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“That’s what we were made from. We were never born, not like the people of this place… we were made with only a single purpose, to grant wishes.” Sarosh explained. He carefully ate some of the cheetos while he tried to gather his thoughts and think of how he could describe what he inherently knew. It was like trying to explain why one existed. One just did… one knew they were alive and that they breathed and were happy…
“When we don’t grant wishes, part of our essence sits in the lamp.. or in my case, a flask. Any container will do, I suppose, but Lamps are traditional. The part of us that isn’t sand or fire sleeps in another world. Or, this world, but not this world.” Saras said, struggling a bit for how to describe the world of intangible quintessence that he and the others existed in. He didn’t think the proper words existed in this world. If they had been in his world, he wouldn’t need words. They would be touched, some part of them. What one knew, all knew. Which is what had gotten Saras in trouble. It had been enough to wake the genies….Plus having gotten him stuck in his flask, instead of his lamp--which was who knew where right now!
“We aren’t really asleep, but we are, too… mostly. Sometimes things will happen to wake us, and we exist again, but that isn’t right either… we’re always aware, like a half-dream, but when we wake, we wake fully. But mostly we exist as if--my last good Master said it sounded like, what he called dreaming, when I helped show him,” he continued, smiling a bit dreamily while he thought back. It had been such a strange experience for the Genie. One he hadn’t expected, but had been brought on by Thorne’s gentle nature. It had happened accidentally but it had helped explain the sort of way he existed. For a moment, he and Thorne had shared one consciousness and had known everything about the other. How was he to have known it would also wake his kind. The alien mind in their midst, disturbing the sleepy state they’d been in.
Sarosh forced himself to continue, breaking away from the past. Thorne was dead, a long long time now, and the incident had been the one to get him in so much trouble. To have his magic taken away, and now returned to cause him pain, it seemed. He tried to distract himself by continuing to talk about his world.
“It’s warm there. Fire comes from there too., I think. Which I suppose makes sense, since we are partly made from fire. There are other things like us, I think, but they aren’t fire and sand… they’re probably something else. Only we D’Jinn are found here, in the desert. But, others have their place, too, I would suppose.”
Sarosh fell quiet, his hands clutching the empty bag of cheetos, which he had been eating as he talked to Jeremy, the sweet smell of smoke rather pleasing to him, although he wondered if it was responsable for making him think more fondly of home then he usually felt about it. A feeling of nostalgia and homesickness came over him, although he knew he really did prefer to be awake and alive instead of the shapeless existence of half-sleep. In a way, he knew he was going to miss the friends he had made here when he returned to sleep to wait for someone else to come wake him up. He wondered how much worse it would be, if he could actually like someone more then just through friendship. He wondered what that would be like…
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