Summary: She said the sea reminds us that even though we will live till time stops, we still can transform. We can grow and learn new things. Meet new acquaintances and lose old ones. Even our hearts, which beat perpetually, can convert and learn a thousand times over what it means to love…A Djinni and a cursed prince Slash/mm

A/N: OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOkay. Let’s see how this goes. A lot of things are going into this story, I will not bore you by telling them now, but it means that I am working extra hard on this!

Oh! And this is slash, but the romance is a slower one (at least I think so) And Djinni is a genie, just spelled funky. Why? Cause I saw it somewhere at it was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.

Any questions or comments would be appreciated! Thank you for reading!

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His Eyes

Part 1: Eternity

March, 2nd

It is too cold for March. Every morning I expect to wake up to the garden just bursting with color and life. Instead, I am left with cold decay from autumn over the frozen ground.

Sometimes I think I expect too much from life. Not that I expect that Millie will wake me up one morning with a smile and a warm tray of food, or that Thomas will replace his usual grimace with a sensible “How are you today, Highness?”, or even that Clara and Mary Beth won’t spit in my luncheon soup (and I have seen them do it before). No, I don’t expect anything like that.

But, I’ve been thinking, I would like something to change. Nothing large or fantastic, just different. I think if I woke up in the morning and had no idea what would lie ahead, I think it would be the best day in my life.

Even if Clara and Mary Beth spit in my soup.

-

I was born twice.

Once from a mortal woman and once from an immortal man. Both experiences were fleeting and rather painful. The mortal woman, my mother, loved me as much as she could love the youngest of fifteen, six of which were still alive. She gave me a name, but she kept mixing it up with another sibling, and so I can never remember it. I met the immortal man, Arif, when my mother forgot me in the market place.

I was only eleven when Arif, the complete stranger, took me in. I had been wandering the streets for several weeks then. I was never strong enough or fast enough to steal food, so I was truly starving. The first thing he asked me was if I wanted to die. I was only a child and terrified of death. He then offered me an immortal life.

I accepted.

I remember pain. A never ending pain. And when I woke, Arif told me of the monster he had made me. I remained with him for only a few years before we parted. I never want to see him again, even if he saved my life. But because I met him, I learned the difference between living and existing.

Then the difference died when the mortal man came.

-

He’s lost.

Hopelessly lost. He doesn’t know I’m watching him, but I’ve counted twenty-seven times since he first crossed my path. He only started marking the wall after six. He passes my hiding spot again, twenty eight times. He scratches his curly hair and picks up a stone to mark the wall again. He turns around and sags against his markings. I fully expect him to scream and shout, just as many of the others who have gotten themselves lost in this dank maze.

He surprises me when he suddenly starts laughing. He even keels over, clutching his sides in mirth. He must be crazy, that is all there is to it. I make sure that I am still hidden completely as he wipes his eyes from tears of laughter. He turns around and counts the wall again. He doesn’t get past thirteen before he is laughing at himself again.

Once he calms down and takes a few deep breathes, I relax a bit. He probably isn’t insane, only exhausted from wandering in circles. But it doesn’t hurt to be careful. I’ve run into more than one crazy person in my life and the outcome was never worth the trouble.

I examine him carefully as he runs his hand through his hair again. The grime from his fingers probably catching onto the brown curls. I finally decide to relieve the poor man from his dilemma. I step from the shadows carefully, still holding the protection shields around me.

He immediately hears my small movement and his head shoots up. Startling steel eyes meet mine and I stare into them unabashed. He doesn’t reach for the dagger at his hip or even move from his spot, he only regards me in mild curiosity and brief unease. I approach him slowly, not wanting to frighten him into doing something stupid. Like attacking me.

It’s not very often that I receive guests in this shadowed crypt.

He stands once I am two arms length away. He is taller than me, but he keeps his shoulders hunched with the impression that he is smaller. He probably is. He looks over me carefully, as most do when they first see me. I may have a normal, lithe build, but I have always been told there are sharp edges around my frame that make people wary of confronting me.

He meets my eyes only once and then looks away quickly. He shuffles then, uneasily. I nearly smile in satisfaction, he may be lost, but he isn’t stupid. Any smart man knows that my ruby eyes mark me as a Djinni. And Djinni is something to be very wary of indeed.

“You are lost,” I murmur to him. The man before me looks up again, but stares at my left shoulder instead of my face.

Surprisingly he gives a small laugh, but it dies in his throat, “Ah, yes…It seems I have been wandering for some time,” His eyes flicker to mine again, before looking away, “Were you watching me? I felt like something was, but this tomb gives me the creeps anyway.”

“There are many with eyes here,” I reply simply. In the distance I here muffled voices. The man looks in the direction of the noise, but makes no move toward it, “Are those not your men who are also lost here?”

He gives a small shrug, “Probably,” His eyes are avoiding my entire presence now. This strikes me.

“Won’t you go to them? They don’t sound far.”

In a strange moment, he looks up to my eyes again. His gaze locks with mine and I feel he is trying to read something from my irises. I don’t know what he finds, but he suddenly relaxes and runs a hand through his hair again.

He gives me an easy smile and looks directly at my face, “They probably don’t want me with them. It is best that I get lost on my own,” He gives off a small laugh, “Anyway, sorry for being rude. My name is Airick. Prince Airick of the Dyot kingdom, more specifically,” He doesn’t bother holding out a hand, but gives a short bow. I nod my head in response, but don’t say anything. He isn’t like any prince I have encountered, especially if he thinks his own men wouldn’t want his company. Shaking my head, I move to the wall with his etchings. I add six more to the tick lines.

Airick gasps, “Ah! I guess I was worse than I thought. Twenty eight times?” He looks around the dark tunnel, “It’s a wonder I haven’t been killed by something yet,” He gives me a sharp look but only grins, “Perhaps a Djinni watching me kept the monsters at bay.”

I shake my head, “No, it is merely because you haven’t surpassed the outer ring,” I point to his markings and they fade from the wall. The stone suddenly shifts and becomes liquid-like. It melts away, revealing the hidden doorway.

Airick leans forward, brushing my shoulder, “What! This has been here the entire time? How on earth was I supposed to open it?”

I give him a sidelong glance, “You weren’t,” I don’t give him anymore reason but turn to him directly, “What are you trying to seek in the inner circle of the Emperor’s Tomb?” I had been curious about this for sometime, which is one of the reasons why I came from hiding in the first place.

The man gives a sigh, “It’s for my brother. He said that there was a family heirloom of ours down here,” He looks at me, “He said that the monster who guards it stole it from our family hundreds of years ago.”

I know of every monster that lives in this dark place. Airick would never stand a chance against any of them, especially if they are guarding something. The man doesn’t know or doesn’t care, but moves past me into the tomb, “Why retrieve it now, if it was stolen so long ago?” I ask.

Airick looks back at me, “Frankly, I have no idea. And I wouldn’t be surprised if my brother is just trying to get me killed,” He says it so candidly that I nearly pause. But he moves on without hesitation.

My mind immediately settles on the conclusion that the brother is older and trying to get his younger brother killed so that he will inherit the family wealth. It has happened more than once. But never have I seen a brother so willing to take his quest and, probably in the end, his death.

Airick, for better or worse, is intriguing. I follow him closely in the darkened passage. There are no torches in this area. My eyes need no light to see. He turns to me, “Djinni? May I ask for a torch to see? In truth,” He stumbles over his words, “I’ve never encountered a Djinni before and I don’t know how to request anything of you.”

I look back at him steadily. I take the moment to examine his steel grey eyes while he can’t see me doing it. He is telling me the truth, “Not all Djinnii are the same. So having prior experience wouldn’t necessarily help you,” I pause, “But I am one of the many who are required to fulfill wishes. You may ask anything of me, but remember,” I lower my voice to a dangerous level, “that I will then be entitled to receive anything I wish of you. Whether or not you can procure it.”

I keep my voice low so that my point gets across. I do not want him making the mistake of wishing for something that he can’t pay back. Anything a person owes me will be given. If they cannot give it, then I will take something of equal value. Most often this results in me taking their life.

Airick takes his time thinking. Even such a simple thing as asking for a light should be taken with care. He looks at my general direction, “Well, Djinni, I won’t ask you for a torch, but if you give me one, I would greatly appreciate it.”

I smirk to myself. This man is smart. I hold up my hand and slowly breathe out, “Igniculus.” The word leaves my lips and blowing gracefully into my hand. The letters writhe as they burn and create a small flame in my palm.

Airick is looking at me, his eyes wide, “I’ve never seen magic before. Amazing,” He smiles, his eyes locked to my hand.

I shrug and move forward, not really caring what he thinks. I’ve known magic for such a long time. Every word, every gesture. It is like breathing, speaking, moving. There is no surprise or fascination. Only the coldness that it truly is.

The passage is long and narrow, but Airick walks behind me, “What are you seeking specifically?” I ask, for silence is dull.

He pauses, “A ring. With my family crest and a blessing upon it. It used to belong to my great-great-grandfather, King Weston IV. And though there is a great monster protecting it,” I turn to look at him and he straightens himself majestically, “I have no fear of it.”

“Ah,” I turn back again, “And why do you not fear the great monster?”

Airick’s voice suddenly turns sheepish, “Well, I kind of have a hard time believing there is a monster anyway and…well,” he hesitates, “I guess it is not so much I don’t have fear of the monster, but I just don’t fear death.”

I stop then and look at his glimmering eyes. He is surprised at my sudden stop, “I see,” I murmur. He still stares as I turn down a nearly invisible corridor, “Well, fearless prince, since I am feeling amiable, I will take you to the ring of King Weston IV.”

I can feel his smile, even though I am not turned towards him, “Truly? I thank you graciously, Djinni,” I pause as he gives a short bow. I don’t nod my head in reply.

The ring isn’t far or particularly concealed. King Weston IV knew it was protected and that was all that mattered to him. I lift my hand to a dusty torch as we enter the Inner Round Room of the Emperors Tomb. The room fills with a soft glow as I light the rest of the torches. In the center is a small platform with a statue of the deity of healing, called Sanatio by most.

Her wise eyes are inlaid with cut diamonds and her body is made from rose marble. There are pearls in her hair and gold etchings in the fabric of her clothes. I remember when she was made. It was intentional, so that if any thief were to come to steal, he would take her precious figure and leave the dull ring that resides at Sanatio’s feet.

I point to the spot, “There is the ring with your family crest and a blessing,” Airick nods courteously and approaches carefully. A blessing is the most complex magic known to the universe. It is unbreakable and extremely powerful, and the properties laid on it are numerous.

I turn as a scratching noise arises from the open doorway. Airick turns quickly, his entire body tensing. I stare languidly as the monstrous form of Akima, the serpent witch, stands in the doorway.

I have known Akima for many years, as I have dwelled in this rank Tomb. She is a bitter creature that used to be human, but when she gained immortality her body began to decay away, as most witches do. She created herself a new one from snake skin so that her immortal soul would not become a useless ghost without a body.

Witches tend to have similar lifestyles. Unlike most immortals, which are either born into immortality or made into one, witches force immortality themselves. The result is the half-immortality in which their bodies die, but their souls remain forever. They either cart around their decayed bodies like old sacks, or take up new skins and wear them about like fine furs.

Akima’s appearance is ghastly at best. The snake skin isn’t meant for a body and it peels constantly, showing the withered and decrepit form inside. She reeks of the foul odor of dead animals and old blood. She has a burning rage within her from her putrid fate. If I wasn’t a Djinni, she would have killed me already.

“Ahhhhhhhhh,” She breathes, a wheezing noise, “A prince graces us with his presence! What a treat!” Her voice sounds like knifes against stone. She approaches closer and Airick backs up slightly. I stand my ground. Akima looks to me then, “Djinni! Already made a contract again? How lonely you must be!” She laughs and I stare at her.

“Akima leave. Your existence insults me,” She is annoying, and I would rather not deal with her.

She laughs again, and I close my eyes in annoyance against the piercing sound, “Come now, Djinni! We hardly get to talk. We could be such good friends!” She throws her head back and cackles madly. A piece of snake skin falls away from her face and a deeper odor arises.

“Are-are you the monster that guards this treasure?” I turn, surprised to see that Airick spoke. Most men faint from shock at Akima’s presence.

The serpent witch ceases to laugh, but her eyes are filled with mirth, “Ahhhhh,” She breathes again, “If I was, that precious ring would have been taken by me many years ago. No, stupid mortal, that monster that gaurds this place is standing beside you.”

Airick looks to me, shock on his face. I turn back to Akima, “Be quite, you corpse. My duties ended many years ago,” She looks at me, her eyes wide with hate. I glare at her, “The only time I protect it is when you try to steal it.”

She glowers at me, “Djinni,” But her threat is empty, she cannot hurt me, “Then why do you let him waltz in a pluck it away so easily,” One gnarled finger is pointed at Airick and he flinches slightly.

I sigh, “Because any mortal is better than you, Akima,” She snarls then, spewing spit onto the stone floor, “But if you so crave it, you can take it from him. For it is his now, and not mine.”

Airick looks at me, a strange emotion covering it. But he quickly focuses on Amika, who looks more than exastatic, “Splendid! A mortal prince guarding such a ring, I shall take my treasure and leave,” She approaches and Airick backs up against the statue of Sanatio. Instinctually he reaches down and takes the ring from her feet. He grips it in white knuckles.

He gives me one look, his face suddenly passive, “I guess I could buy your help?” He says his voice light.

I incline my head, “Only if you wish to pay the price.”

Amika is ignoring us both, focused on the ring in Airick’s hand. She moves forward jerkily, but deadly. The prince nods, “I think I’ll take a chance on my own abilities.”

A wise choice, dealing with a Djinni is not something to go into lightly. Amika may be powerful, but she is old and withered. The magic leaves her lips slowly and sloppily. If a man has strength and cunning he just may defeat her.

Airick reaches to his back pocket and procures a gilded dagger. I roll my eyes at this, a worn, but strong dagger would be better than the piece of jewelry that he holds. Amika laughs at it, “Pitiful, mortal! I won’t take my time,” And in the next moment she does something I had never thought she was capable of, “Veneficium!”

The word slithers out hurriedly and jaggedly. But it expands suddenly and becomes a massive cloud of deadly fumes. It reaches ever corner of the room, causing the torches to dim in the toxins. Amika laughs over it and I put my hand over my nose. It smells terrible, even if it can’t harm me. She has impressed me, she doesn’t have aim or coordination, but by filling every crevice of the room, she didn’t miss her target.

Airick falls to the floor, gasping and coughing. In seconds, his shirt front is covered with blood as he vomits and gags. Amika continues to laugh madly as the fumes slowly leave through the open doorway. It doesn’t matter, the damage is done. She approaches Airick’s shuddering form as he lays crumpled on the floor.

“I will take my prize!” She makes a motion to reach down, but I grip her hand. It peels under my fingers and I hold in my repulsion.

“It is not yours to take, yet. He still lives,” Her eyes are wide as she looks down at the prince. I let go of her hand. If she hadn’t needed to spread out her fumes, they would have been deadly enough to kill Airick instantly. Instead, they were diluted enough to only cause him a slow painful death.

“Then I will wait. I have been waiting many years, I can wait another hour,” She folds her arms across her shrunken chest.

“Well, do your waiting elsewhere. I have run out of patience for dealing with your sight. Leave.” It is an order and she shivers from my voice.

She hisses characteristically at me, but there is nothing for her to do, “Pompous Djinni. One day you will die and I will dance over your dead body.” But she leaves, glaring at me as she goes from sight.

I look at Airick again, his complexion is a waxy grey and he heaves up blood every few minutes, “You are going to die,” I say.

He tries to look at me, but he can’t see me anymore. His curled hair is plastered against his forehead. He nods, but it only ends up in him coughing more blood, “I-I know,” He barley whispers.

I bend down, making sure to keep my feet out of his blood, “I could save you, you know. If you are willing,” He doesn’t look up, but shudders mutely for several moments.

It seems to take a great deal of effort before his voice comes to him, “W-what ar-are your t-t-terms?” He gasps out.

I look at him, interested. I was wondering if he would take a deal from me, especially after he said he didn’t fear death. He was telling the truth at the time, but he must have been lying to himself then, “I will bring you back to your prior health and take you to the surface unharmed. In exchange,” I think about it for a moment, the possibilities coming to me, “In exchange you must take me back to your kingdom with you. You will let me accompany you everyday and you will…converse with me until you can speak no more as I feel free to do so,” I smile, the deal sound in my head.

I must have shocked Airick because he stops shaking for a second. Immediately afterwards he vomits again. It takes him even longer for an answer. Eventually he looks up at me, his eyes clouded, “I…accept.”

I nod once, “And so you live.”

-

I look for things that are timeless.

It is really an unconscious habit of those who are immortal, even the Witches. To find something we can relate to, in order to feel like we are still a part of this world. Some look to the stars and the moon or sun, like they are celestial gods. I knew one immortal that gazed into the sea, finding it eternal in her midst.

She said, unlike the stars, the ocean would still change. Gain new boundaries and limitations, but keep its enduring qualities. The moon would never get closer, the stars never brighter, and the sun never warmer.

She said the sea reminds us that even though we will live till time stops, we still can transform. We can grow and learn new things. Meet new acquaintances and lose old ones. Even our hearts, which beat perpetually, can convert and learn a thousand times over what it means to love.

For even if we look for the eternal; it’s the things that change that mean the most.