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"THE NIGHT IS INDEED SO MAGICAL TODAY," THE PRINCESS of Agrabah uttered in bemusement, her eyes glittering as they fixated themselves on the deep purple sky overhead.

The girl's black hair was braided down her back, the end of it going past her hips, tied off with a shimmering blue ribbon that matched the shimmering two piece blue set that she wore. Her dark skin almost blended in with the night, while still standing a contrast, as the girl rested her hands on the edge of the terrace wall, ignoring the magnificent sight of the entirety of Agrabah below, in favor of the moon and the stars.

Dilruba Badawi however, held her own gaze on Agrabah, tracing the mud and brick houses galore and the dozens and dozens of lit lanterns sparkling in the waging streets and blinking in windows. To her, the city seemed to be the sky. It was alive, bustling with feeling, emotion and ambition, all of these raging sensations built into each and every heart that traipsed the streets below. Whereas the sky was a still, dead thing in comparison.

Truth be told, Dilruba had no qualms against the moon, for it had remained her sole confidant in her darkest of nights. The glowing guard in the sky had kept her company on the streets, and it had kept her company when she had gotten a roof over her head. The moon had always watched over her—despite not interfering—but still, being watched over was something, was it not? It gave ground for her to fully exist. It made her feel real in a way.

"I think so too," Dilruba murmured, agreeing with the fact.

The sky and the city below made this night. These two things leaned on each other to give birth to the word night itself. For without the bustling city below, no one would be in their right mind to praise the sky when the land underneath their feet was barren and devoid of shelter, food, company and fire light.

Dilruba's eyes traced the streets, and from the terrace of the Agraban palace, the people were but the size of mites. She wondered if she would be able to spot her savior—a stupid thought that she quickly squashed.

The truth was, that her heart still felt giddy from the encounter with him at the noble man Hajjar Dagher's abode a handful of hours ago. His words were intense and moving in ways she felt herself quiver when she tried to decipher. She wanted a moment to herself—to lock herself somewhere so that she could be in peace enough to think about him and everything he had said to her. Every moment that she found herself thinking about him, her cousin would yank Dilruba's thoughts to herself, forcing upon her matters to think about instead.

"I wish I could have the entire sky this night, painted on the ceiling of the palace hall where I will say my I do's," Jasmine spoke then, as though she had sensed Dilruba's thoughts attempting to waver.

"Then why don't you?" Dilruba offered, even though the idea to uproot the design of the palace's centuries old ancient hall ceiling with a modern commissioned artwork of the night sky seemed rather.. unorthodox to her.

Behind the girls, Aladdin's laugh could be heard as the man talked to his companions—a small and mischievous monkey named Abu, and a tahararat min alkhatiya who traipsed alongside Aladdin, with the being's burly physique clad in a rather extravagant vest and billowing cuffed trousers.

The girl had never seen a freed genie before, though tales of them ran rampant in Hegra, bought and sold with coins. She had heard of freed genies, and had performed for a client once in the city of Tayma who had hosted a freed genie at his gathering. They were called tahararat min alkhatiya, which meant that they were beings freed from sin. The sin was their magic—the immense power that they had harbored once, which upon their freedom left their body, turning them into mortal beings.

The client she had performed for in Tayma had hosted a tahararat min alkhatiya at his gathering, but he had protected the being's identity out of respect. Dilruba remembered a sofa separate from the others. She remembered someone seated on that sofa alone, but there had been a translucent screen erected in front of the sole guest, hiding him from Dilruba's gaze. She had only been able to make out a shadow through that material and nothing else.

The tahararat min alkhatiya were different from each other, she realized that now. They were as different from each other as humans were. For the freed genie who at present was laughing with the future Prince of Agrabah looked like a bold man as jaunty with his words as he was with his manner, standing apart from the reserved and discreet tahararat min alkhatiya she had danced for in the city of Tayma, with a translucent screen in between, a being who had valued his new mortal identity more than all the wealth in the world.

The trio, consisting of Aladdin and his two companions, were sat on the extravagant wooden bench on the terrace of palace, right underneath the glowing moon, while the girls admired the view at the edge.

The royal wedding was only a day away, this being the second last day that Princess Jasmine spent as an unmarried princess, and Aladdin spent as a mere commoner. Soon, both their fortunes would take root in stone, erected and preserved for generations to come.

"I think father wouldn't let me," Jasmine let out then, laughing as she shook her head. "The wedding is only a day away, I need to stop with these last minute wishes, don't I?"

Dilruba looked at her cousin, suddenly thinking of the last wish she herself had made. The court dancer and poetess couldn't think of any, and with a dismay she realized that she had given up wishing a long time ago. Could some women be this free, to believe in the fulfilment of their wishes so much that they had to stop themselves from making more?

If at present Dilruba could wish for something, what would she wish for?

"I feel like I could kill the people who have made you think that you don't deserve to be understood, and it would be one of the most liberating things that I would ever do."

Her stranger's words erupted in her mind suddenly then like someone had torn open a wall that had been keeping the words at bay.

Dilruba's heart battered in her chest without restraint, and she was certain her cousin would hear it.

"What are you thinking of?" Jasmine asked then.

"Nothing," Dilruba insisted a little too hastily.

"Well," The Princess narrowed her eyes before assuming a playful expression. "I suppose as my cousin and subject, you ought to be thinking about me and my wedding, just as all of Agrabah is doing."

Dilruba blinked, trying to decipher if her cousin had forgone the entire concept of self modesty—or if being humble wasn't yet a feat programmed into royals. She sincerely hoped Jasmine was joking, and would burst out laughing at any moment. Except, no laughter came.

Perhaps it was Dilruba only who was prejudiced. For it was indeed true that the entirety of Agrabah was thinking of the royal wedding. On her way to the palace from Hajjar Daher's abode, Dilruba had heard the general excitement on the streets. Vendors were excited to increase their prices for the day of the wedding, and customers were excited to witness the discounted sales—they were assuming—that lay in store at the wedding day. Even Hegra was all in anticipation for the royal Agraban wedding, and though Dilruba hadn't yet been to another other city since the news of the wedding came to be, she was certain all of Arabia was in an anxious anticipation.

"Have you decided upon the theme of your performance?" Jasmine asked then, eyeing her cousin with an expectation.

Dilruba had mistakenly mentioned the appointment she had taken hours ago. She hadn't spoken of the noble man's name, only given her cousin a brief piece explaining what she had done with her day prior to coming to the palace. Dilruba had found it prudent to be honest, for she didn't want to be perceived as though she was only waiting around for the wedding and had no obligations of her own. Somehow, faced with her cousin's bejewelled and privileged life, Dilruba Badawi couldn't help but maintain the wall of separation that held her apart.

"For my wedding?" The girl probed when Dilruba didn't answer.

After the bride said her I do's, she would be brought in a veiled compartment amongst all the noble guests of the court—both male and female—into the courtyard of the palace where Dilruba's performance had been decided by Jasmine to take place. Since the princess of Agrabah could not be seen by too many people at once, she would be behind a translucent screen, and her husband upon his own choice could either sit with her or watch Dilruba's performance with his male friends in attendance.

In most of the wedding event performances she had done, the groom had—although now married—sat apart from his bride, preferring instead to watch Dilruba with his male companions.

"You want it to be a peacock theme," Dilruba spoke then, thinking of how she would have to arrange for an entirely new ensemble than the one she had previously decided.

The wedding was a day away now, and Dilruba would have to rage the market place to find an ensemble that complimented the colors of a peacock, faux peacock feathers, and an entirely new headdress that she would have to sew by hand, for it was unlikely that she would find a peacock themed one to her liking in the marketplace—especially now that the prices would go awry because of the royal wedding.

"Yes, but I just gave you a preference," Jasmine dragged the word, "Peacock is what I would like, but you're welcome to do anything else. As long as it is reasonable of course." 

Dilruba bit the inside of her cheek to keep her frustration at bay. If her cousin had truly wanted Dilruba to do what she had decided upon on her own, she wouldn't have spoken of her peacock theme preference a mere day before the wedding. It was certain that the girl wanted the theme that she wanted. Dilruba had to remind herself that this was just an appointment, and she had to do what the client asked of her. So silently, she decided to set off for the marketplace early tomorrow morning in order to secure everything that she needed and then have additional time to come back to her flat and sew things that needed to be sewed with Ahya's help. 

"I'm doing the peacock," Dilruba uttered then, trying to keep her tone neutral, "I like the idea."

"It's settled then!" The girl clapped her hands together, as though she had already suspected Dilruba's answer. 

"Aladdin," Jasmine turned on her heels to approach her husband to be, a skip in her step. "Dilruba is doing the peacock theme for her performance! It is going to be so beautiful." 

"If you say so," Aladdin grinned as he stood up from the bench to meet her halfway, his cheeks dimpling as he eyes shone at the sight of the Princess. 

Dilruba blinked from where she stood, taken aback, before Aladdin quickly shook his head, his eyes widening as he glanced at Dilruba in slight horror. 

"No, I mean of course!" The man hastened to correct himself, eager to not cause any offense. "Of course it is going to be perfect. I meant no offense." 

He scratched the back of his neck hesitantly, as Jasmine tilted her head back to look up at him, her voice softer and barely audible. 

"Of course you didn't." 

Dilruba turned away from the image of the two of them, turning her eyes back onto the sight of Agrabah below. A cool wind blew, caressing her face as she relaxed slightly. Though her day was going to be arduous tomorrow in order to get all the preparations done for her performance, she had the plan for it in mind, and she was only at liberty to control things that could be controlled, all the rest of it she would leave to chance. The mere consolation of that was enough to relax her as the cool wind threaded through her long loosely curled hair cascading down her back. She was still in the same attire she had performed at Hajjar Dagher's abode in, though she had taken off some pieces of her excessive performative jewelry and gotten rid of her veil. The exposed skin at her belly and her arms prickled satisfyingly under the influence of the wind. 

"Need some company, madam?" A voice interrupted her solace and she turned her eyes to look at the form of Aladdin's companion beside her. A tahararat min alkhatiya. The man was taller than Aladdin was, and burlier where the street boy was lanky and swift. 

His skin was the color of the darkest sand, and his eyes were almond shaped and small. He wore a decorative wig ponytail attached firmly to his bald scalp, and on his muscled wrists were gold jewelry that sparkled like the gold hoops in his ears. Dilruba wondered if all tahararat min alkhatiya were this decorative with themselves. For they were considered sinful men once they were mortalized, the sole fact that they had once held immense power made them unworthy of paradise, and it was said that they would forever be stuck in the place between the dead and the living, if their souls were to depart. There would be no heaven or hell for them. Some of them, like the one she had performed for in the city of Tayma, understood these facts about themselves and resorted to pious lives in order to repent. But perhaps, others—like Aladdin's companion here—had no want to repent. 

"No, thank you," She managed, to which the being laughed heartily, throwing his head back as he did so.

Dilruba maintained her gaze on the horizon, not affording the being a glance. 

"You seem to avoid me like the plague, madam," The genie continued then, his name having stuck to genie since both Aladdin and Jasmine referred to the being with it. Which was yet another alarming thing, for as far as Dilruba was aware, referring to a tahararat min alkhatiya's past was a cursed thing to do. 

"I do not wish to associate with you," The girl spoke then, "I feel as though it is wrong." 

The being didn't say anything, looking ahead at the same darkened horizon she was looking at. 

"Perhaps if you let go of the ideas that you hold about my kind, you will better be able to accept me." 

Dilruba glanced at him just as he turned to meet her eyes, a cordial grin on the man's dark face displaying his gleaming white teeth. 

"There are no ideas," She uttered then, "You wish to hold yourself separate from the rest of the tahararat min alkhatiya. Some of them are respectable beings—humbled and pious beings on a path of repentance, and I feel like you make a mockery of them all."

Dilruba turned her eyes away from him, putting a piece of her hair behind her ear as it blew in front of her eyes. 

"Aren't humans allowed to be however and whatever they choose to be?" The being asked then, "Why must I fall into the same mold as the rest of my kind?" 

The girl's brows furrowed as she met his eyes again. "Do you have no fear for the afterlife?" 

"I have respect for it, not fear," The man smiled. 

Dilruba turned away in annoyance, fixating her eyes back on Agrabah and wishing the being beside her would just leave her be. 

"You admire the piousness of the tahararat min alkhatiya?" He asked then, a certain intrigue in his tone. 

"I do," The girl from Hegra answered.  

"Like the pious one you danced for in the city of Tayma?" 

Dilruba's eyes found the man's in shock and alarm. "How do you know that?" 

He grinned, shaking his head slightly. "I was still a genie then. I used to know him centuries ago before I lost contact with him. I could find out the fate of my friends if I wanted to, inside my lamp. I didn't suspect that he had been freed, so seeing him was a surprise. I saw him watching you through a golden translucent screen." 

Centuries. Dilruba shuddered at the word. The tahararat min alkhatiya gained the lifespan of mortal human men once they were freed. There would be no more centuries for this being in front of her, and for the one she had danced for in Tayma. 

"The point remains," The being continued, "That yes, my friend became pious upon his freedom. But I shall become pious when I feel like it. My afterlife, Dilruba Badawi, is mine to deal with. I'd rather not have you or anyone else worry about such a thing."

Dilruba didn't respond, feeling oddly satisfied with his answer. He was correct, his afterlife was his own to deal with. Why should she harbor dislike for him if he didn't care for it as much as she believed people ought to care?

"Anyway," The being shrugged, waving a careless gesture in the air, "Why dampen the mood? We are in store for a royal wedding! Why are people not understanding that? I am sick of the talk about thugs and doom when the wedding nears us each hour. Why can't we just fill our glasses and get drunk?" 

The girl eyed the being beside her, watching him as a laugh rumbled out from somewhere deep in his chest. 

"Thugs?" She asked with an intrigue. She understood doom, for she had been the one to broach that subject, but who was saying anything about thugs?  

"Ah, it's the Sultan," The genie waved a thick hand again as though he was swatting a fly in the night air. "Agraban politics, I'm afraid. Nothing for you Hegrans to concern yourself with." 

Dilruba furrowed her brows. "But has something occurred? Jasmine's wedding is in a day. What exactly concerns my uncle?" 

"Well," The genie turned to look at her straight in her eyes then, a grin on his face as his almond shaped eyes pinned her in place. 

"There is talk that Arab's most deadly swordsman and notorious gangster has returned to Agrabah with his thugs, infiltrating the noble politics of our city on behalf of Agrabah's enemies." 

Dilruba blinked, a strange unease shifting through her. She had been wanting to leave the city as soon as the wedding was done with. She intended to ink down a letter to the governor of Hegra tonight just as she got back to her flat. And the tahararat min alkhatiya's words now made her more anxious to leave. There was something dangerous about being in a city where she had little to no protection. In Hegra, she could walk with her head held high, for she was under the protection of the governor himself. But elsewhere, the governor could offer her no immediate protection. 

Besides, she was alone, with only Ahya as her maid and companion. Her uncle and her cousin could not be relied on, and Dilruba refused to make the mistake of relying on them for anything let alone her life. 

"Returned?" She asked, feeling a shiver cascade down her back. 

Arabia in its entirety was riddled with gangsters and swordsman, but Dilruba had no knowledge of who amongst them was the more notorious or deadly. She didn't have any names, though she had heard stories about unnamed men often enough. In Hegra however, the governor had his full control, and if any gangster entered the city, he entered because the governor had commanded him to. The people of Hegra had only their governor to fear and nobody else. 

"Indeed," The genie turned away, looking back at the horizon. "The man hailed from Agrabah. His life first saw the sun and the moon in Agrabah. Pity that he's set to destroy the very earth he took his first steps on." 

"That's intimate," Dilruba asked, "Do you know him?" 

The man looked at her, and she saw grave thoughts visibly cross his gaze before he leaned in close to Dilruba's ear. 

"I granted him three wishes, before Aladdin found my lamp." 

Dilruba gasped, placing a hand onto her lips. It was a cursed thing indeed to refer to one of the tahararat min alkhatiya's past life when they were still in possession of their power, but how cursed was it when they spoke of their own? 

She eyed him with shock, and watched him as he fixed his gaze back on the view from the terrace, letting her observe the side of his face. His facial expression was resolved, and.. thoughtful. 

"Have you spoken of this before?" She tried softly, "To anyone else?" 

"No," The being shook his head, as though the mere thought of sharing such an information was absurd to him. 

"Will it curse me then, to know this?" Dilruba pressed, "To have definite knowledge of something in your past?"

The man broke out of his thoughtful stupor then, managing a laugh before his expression sombered as he looked at her. 

"If only Aladdin was as careful as you," The man spoke, "I think I got saddled with the most careless man in all of Arabia." 

"But no," He looked into her eyes. "Do not be afraid to be cursed by me. Nothing shall happen to you. I haven't told anyone of my encounter with the notorious thug because it isn't my place. To those whom I have granted wishes, it is only their right to speak about their encounter, not mine. This is why you hear stories from the mouths of men, Dilruba Badawi, not of genies." 

Dilruba nodded once. Relaxing slightly as she pushed another piece of stray hair behind her ear. 

"Does it wound you then, that this thug has returned?" 

The tahararat min alkhatiya lifted a hand to palm the back of his neck, before bringing the hand back down on the railing at the edge of the terrace. 

"In a way," He answered. "For I know what wishes I fulfilled for him. I remember." 

Dilruba swallowed thickly, not wanting to ask anymore questions. She wanted to know more, but it was pointless. She was curious as to what a notorious gangster would wish for from a genie. What kind of wishes did people even make? What wishes had Aladdin asked for? Had Jasmine been one of those three wishes that the street boy had decided upon? No, she thought then, remembering from an old story that genies could not make people fall in love. But still, if it wasn't love, or bringing people back from the dead, or asking for more wishes—since genies could not do that—then what was it? What did people ask from genies, what did they wish for? 

What had this notorious thug wished for? 

"Anyway," The man beside her spoke then, shrugging. "Do not dwell too much on it, Dilruba. I have let you know a secret upon which if I myself start to dwell on, I will get lost. Disregard it, it was another time, another place." 

Dilruba nodded once, her eyes meeting the man's in an understanding, before he grinned and carefully touched her bare shoulder in a gesture that was unlike the kind she could've ever imagined receiving from a man. But then again, the tahararat min alkhatiya were not ordinary men. Then he spun on his feet and started walking back over towards his friends. 

"I'm in the mood for some music, where in the world is the Sultan's orchestra? Let's celebrate, we're about to have a royal wedding my friends!"