Chapter Text
“Oh I’ve come to this land, to this magical place, to where caravan camels roam…” The breeze passing over the vast desert dunes joined in like a shushed chorus as the man sung into the night. “Where they cut off your ear if they don’t like your face, it’s barbaric and I love it so.”
The man was dressed in a drab washed-out gray shirt and pants combo with a far-too-small blue jacket for the slightest amount of color. He smiled warmly, drawing attention and confusion, from the scruffy bandits huddled over a small dying fire.
“Frigid winds from the east, burning sun in the west, bag of gems I just stole held tight.” Despite the man’s short and largely overweight nature, he didn’t slow or falter as he marched up the hill towards a single sun-bleached tent. “Come on down, stop on by, steal a camel and ride… to another Arabian Niiiiiiight!”
He stopped to scratch under the chin of a two-humped camel laying down besides the tent. “Let’s do this.”
The short scruffy man threw open the worn-out cloth doors and stomped inside. There were two people inside: a tall African man in an off-white robe with a blue-green shawl and a teenage girl, dressed in fine pink satin, gagged and tied to the tent’s center pole. The African man hid a scowl and put away his sword.
“Sooooo, what have we got here?” The singing man huffed, hands on hips.
The guard rolled his eyes. “This is the Zudanian princess.” He waved to the girl. “Remember? The one you said had to be the ‘Diamond in the Rough’ from the Cave of Wonder legend because she comes from ‘Zudan: The Land of Diamonds’?”
“Right, right, right.” The short man waved the taller man’s words away. “Well, I’ve decided I don’t wanna wait anymore. So untie the princess and let’s get moving.”
“Haroud!” The canvas curtain doors flew open again and an equally short, fat man in identical clothes stomped in. “I’ve decided I don’t wanna wait anymore! So untie the princess and--” The fat man blinked. There was an exact copy of him standing in front of him.
The first fat man snorted before speaking, “Well, one of us is going to have to change.”
The second fat man looked down at his clothes, “But I woke up like this.”
“Yes,” The first man smiled with a condescending and now feminine-sounding voice “and we’re all very sorry for you.”
Haroud drew his sword and grabbed the first man. The man’s appearance shuddered and collapsed in a plume of dust. In the man’s place was a woman, 30s with a deep tan, in a pale-gold flowing robe with a bright green body-length scarf pinned around her neck by a stone medallion.
Haroud gasped. “You! The nomad!”
“Wait a minute…” The short man spoke as slowly as his brain was working. “I know you! You’re that freaky magic lady I ran outta Shiabad!”
The woman rolled her eyes. “No, Abis Mal, I’m the freaky magic lady that branded your left butt cheek with a hot iron… and then ran YOU out of Shiabad.” She huffed hard, spitting a plume of black smoke in Haroud’s face before running to the princess. In a flash, a dagger cut the ropes and the two women ran outside.
“Hey wait!” Abis Mal threw open the tent door to follow and got kicked in the gut by a camel.
“Stop them!” Haroud shouted “She’s stealing the princess!”
“We… stole her… first!” Abis Mal choked out before collapsing.
The older woman heaved the princess onto the camel’s back and grabbed the reins. She got yanked back by her scarf. “You thought it would be that easy, woman?” Haroud sneered.
A cobra lashed out from under the green scarf with a hiss and the man jumped back with a yelp. “Thanks, Mitr.” The woman sighed before jumping on the camel. “YAH!
The princess clutched to the galloping camel’s back, clinging to the odd tied rope and rolled up carpets that made something of a flat surface between the camel’s humps. She wasn’t supposed to be here. The noise of the various kinds of junk this beast was hauling made her gentle heart race even harder. She dared to look behind them. Men in the night were mounting horses. “They’re coming!” she yelled at the older woman.
“They’re not the problem!” The woman answered. The camel veered and started stomping down a steep dune diagonally. “The problem is I don’t have the supplies to get you back to Zudan from here. Anywhere close that would know you?”
The princess's hands shook from the bumpy ride. “I’m sorry! I don’t know where I am!” The girl shrieked as the camel shifted to flatter land. She barely managed to not fall by finding a foothold on some rod tied to the side. "All the sand looks the same!"
The nomad groaned. “Then just start naming places you know you’ll be safe!”
A shrill neigh made both women look up. Several men on horseback crested the high desert dune and started charging straight down. The nomad huffed. She put a hand over the stony medallion on her shoulder and held the other hand out. The hidden rune on the stone surface glowed. A lane of sand on the dune brightened up and in an instant started running straight down as if it was water.
The horses cried out as their footing slipped, sending their riders tumbling down. The woman clutched the medallion and a whirling of sand wrapped around a pure black horse and righted it back to its feet. The horse was brought to a stop at the bottom by the dune, rearing as the sorceress took its reins. “You. Get on!” She nodded towards the horse. The princess nervously let go and managed to climb onto the horse properly with some decorum.
“Allied nations! Go!” The woman barked, snapping her camel’s reins.
The princess gently kicked her horse to follow. “Um… Corkistan… Odiferous… Shiabab, Agra--”
“Shiabab’s closest.”
The women turned sharply and went west. Under the dim lighting of the moon, rocky walls slowly came into view. “We’re going to get trapped against that mountain!”
“It’s not a mountain.” The older woman stated.
Coming even closer, a cave with two carved camel statues on either side quickly arrived and was passed by the women. The flooring was smooth and slowly ramped downward. The walls were clearly carved out but centuries of standing against desert winds left almost every intricate detail lost to time.
The moonlight welcomed the two ladies from the tunnel. The younger woman looked around. Towering faintly red stone as far as the eye could see “A canyon?” The princess asked. “But why?”
“Crossroad Canyon, bubbie. You can get anywhere in the Seven Deserts from here.” The older woman turned her camel to the left.
Clattering from the tunnel. A lot of somethings with hooves were rapidly approaching. “They’re coming!”
“We’re going.”
Up the canyon, til they passed a star-shaped shadow; the shadow of a sculpture erected high at the very beginning of the massive chasm. The horse and camel tore through another cave opening, this time, charging up a ramp that was actually lit up with wall torches.
“This way!” A man bellowed.
“They’re gaining!” The princess cried.
“I know, they’re not being quiet!”
The two women broke out of the tunnel in full dash, returning to cold air and shifting sands. The nomad halted her camel and got off. The princess stopped her horse. “What are you doing?”
The older woman untied a pouch and a satchel and tossed them to the princess. “These are all the supplies I got. They’ll get you to Shiabab.”
“... but…”
The sorceress slid a long rod out of her pack and ran her hand over the top. The carving of a sleeping cobra coiled around the top of the staff shined in the moonlight. She walked back towards where they came. “I’ll hold them off. Just go straight from here and you’ll be in Shiabab soon enough.”
The princess turned her horse around. “Please, madam. Whoever you are, I must know your name so I may tell my people of my savior.”
The older woman stopped. “I hold no family name as my own. Nor any nation as my home. I am only a nomad of the sand.”
The princess held back her forming tears. “Brave Nomad. You will never be forgotten for your deeds today. That I promise. My people will--”
“I’m just fighting off bandits, bubbie” The nomad looked back, arms motioning widely. “This is not a special occasion for me. It’s important to me that you know that.”
The princess sputtered. “Well… I’m not used to this!”
“Just go already, Kid!”
The princess took a deep breath before kicking her horse again, disappearing over an endless sea of dunes into the night.
“Remember: just go STRAIGHT!” The nomad yelled. She watched as the trail of sand kicked up by the princess settled. “Balavaan, give me room.” The camel groaned before trotting off to the side. She put both hands up. The horses were getting closer. Left hand on the stone medallion. Right hand holding the staff. The medallion lit up. The nomad closed her eyes. The galloping was getting louder.
She brought the staff close to the medallion and the snake’s eyes opened, glowing a bright yellow, its mouth opening slightly. The glow of the medallion drifted away from the stone and into the staff. She pulled the staff away and took it in both hands. As the bandits reached the top of the dune, she thrust it into the sands.
The ground shifted and the sands started swirling before the woman. As the men got close the sands were churning like a whirlpool, circling and swirling into a deepening void beneath the surface. The horde stopped before the sight, but the sands crept closer. Horses reared in fright but before they could turn, the sands slipped from under them and they, and their riders, fell into the sandy tide.
The Nomad’s camel whined and backed away. Soon the tide pulled the sand from under the staff and the Nomad fell. The woman turned onto her stomach and her feet got pulled under. “Balavaan!” The beast bellowed and stuck its neck out towards his master. The sand sucked down the nomad’s legs. The edge of the whirling sands expanded and the land started falling away from the camel’s feet. The camel gave a panicked gargle and backed up. “BALAVAAN!”
The sand was up to her waist. She saw her camel hop onto a rock pile and bellow out to her again. The pressure by her feet changed. It was… lighter. Did that mean…? The nomad took a deep breath before pulling her scarf over her mouth and nose and pushing herself down.
Beneath the sands, she could barely make out muffled yelling, panicking motions pushing through the waves. The pressure got lighter, lighter, lighter before giving way. The yelling of the men rang clear as everyone fell through the ceiling in a cloud of sand. The nomad watched as the men beneath her crashed into the edge of a high cliff before tumbling silently into the blackness below. She hit the ridge squarely in the center.
----
The princess pulled back on the reins and looked out into the night. Nothing. No noise, no movement. She sighed and took a sip from the pouch the woman gave her. Just go straight. Just go straight. Just--
“Hiya!”
The princess let out a scream and covered her head.
“Whoa whoa whoa, relax. I’m friendly.” The young man continued.
The princess looked around. No one.
“Up here.”
The princess looked up. The young man was on a flying purple carpet. A small skinny monkey popped its head over the edge of the carpet and tipped its tiny fez with a squawk.
“Are you Princess Dia’mah?”
The princess shrunk nervously. “Tell me who you are first.”
“I’m Aladdin.” The young man’s carpet lowered to the princess’s level. “This is Carpet… the carpet.” The flying rug’s tassel made a small polite wave. “And this is Abu.” The monkey let out a little squeak that sounded very close to ‘hello’. “Now your turn.”
“I am Princess Dia’mah.” The girl answered shyly. “I’m supposed to go to Shiabab.”
“Shiabab?” Aladdin asked. “Aren't you from Zudan?”
“The… lady that saved me said it was too far to go straight to Zudan. But the Sultan of Shiabab will know me. He’ll see me home safely.”
“Lady?”
The princess looked behind her. She couldn’t see anything in the dark of the night. “A… nomadic woman saved me. She even gave me all her supplies to make sure I made it. Now, I worry she’ll meet her end out here because of me.”
Aladdin gave a smile and reached out to the princess. “Listen, I know Nomads seem weird to city people like us, but they know their stuff. They wouldn’t give up their supplies unless they were sure they could reach the next oasis on their own. The woman will be fine. Now, come on, I'll help get you to Shiabab.” The carpet started flying forward. ”If we’re fast, we might be able to get there before the sun gets too high.”
The princess took one last look behind her. Nothing. She sighed and flicked the reins.
---
Silence. The waves of water far below fell still a while ago, the bodies they claimed decidedly sunk to the bottom. The only sound was a scaly body running over fabric and dirt.
The cobra stood up, tongue flicking. This wasn’t working. Mitr ran his long black-and-gold body under the woman’s nose. Nothing. He grabbed the woman’s messy barely-even-still-tied ponytail in his mouth and shook as hard as he could. Nothing. He gave a loud long hiss in her ear. Nothing. Ok, time for The Big No-No. The cobra stood tall and opened his mouth wide. He pulled his long fangs in so they stayed pointed towards his throat and lunged at the lady. He bit her nose bluntly and put as much pressure as he could on it.
The woman groaned softly. The snake quickly pulled off the woman and lowered to her level. Slowly the nomad pulled her hands closer and pushed herself upright. Her eyes opened slowly. “Hey buddy,” she said weakly. She held out her hand and the serpent gladly ran itself up her arm. “Did I scare you? I’m sorry.”
She leaned towards her staff, flinching as a wave of pain ran through her upper body. “Lovely…” She pushed through and used the staff to stand up. She gave Mitr a gentle nuzzle before letting the snake vanish under the folds of her scarf. “Now… where’d I almost die this time.”
There wasn’t much to look at. Big cave. Very dark. Cold but it was the desert in the middle of the night which, frankly, was the most normal thing going on at this point. The ceiling was made of sand, any trace of the sorceress’s disruption on the surface now long gone.
The stone pillars trailed downward towards the water’s edge where the nomad could see a faint light in the distance. The intricately carved entrance-way led to a vast room, bright and glittering with mounds upon mounds of gold in every imaginable form. Pots, plates, coins, bars, statues, even gateways several stories high that stood without walls on any side.
The snake of the woman’s staff gave a metallic hiss and its eyes opened with a deep dangerous red glow. The woman looked. She passed the snake so it stared at a smaller mound of gold. The red glow intensified. She pulled it away and pointed it to the bare ground. The red faded somewhat. “Oh this gold is Cursed cursed.” She chuckled. Her eyes went wide with a gasp. “Which means there must be something REALLY good in the back!”
The cobra poked its head out with a quick hiss.
“You hush. I’m the one with legs and I say we go that way!” She waved her staff towards the thin trail weaving around the gold and quickened her pace.
The mounds of cursed treasure were soon replaced by twisted pillars of stone that formed a maze in the near total darkness. The staff’s eye’s changed from red to yellow. The woman followed where the glow was most focused and slipped through a rough looking crack in the wall.
This new room was nothing less than massive, so much so that most sultan's palaces would easily fit inside. Before her was a small trail of stones poking out of perfectly still waters, leading to a grand incline where the tiniest red light flickered. “Yeesh, did the egyptians make this?” The woman grumbled “What’s with all the steps? I already got past the cursed part.”
She looked away in annoyance and glanced upon a large golden grinning gorilla statue, clutching a ruby the size of a watermelon. “Nice rock.” She smiled. She looked back to the hike before her. “If only I liked jewelry.” Across the water and up the rocky stairs, the air getting colder and colder as she ascended. The final few steps and the woman let a grin grow on her face in anticipation.
Finally, the prize stood before her. On the smooth stone pedestal, a pure black oil lamp burning with a tiny yellow flame. Its spout was what like what the nomad would call a ‘regally upturned nose’ and its handle reminded her of a spoiled Roman noble’s pursed lips. A rather snooty looking lamp all around.
“Great Shiva…” She gasped. The staff snake’s eyes turned white and the mouth opened wide. The woman hesitated before inching the staff closer. The staff started pulling tiny embers into its mouth, not just from the lamp’s flame but its body as well. That didn’t seem like a good thing. She snapped the staff’s mouth closed and hooked the head so it hung from her satchel safely.
Mitr hissed, brushing his body against his owner’s chin.
She rubbed her hands together and tenderly picked up the lamp. She looked carefully at the engravings on the lamp’s foot. Intricate curves and strokes that felt like every letter of a different language rolled into a single form. In a blink, the swirls changed shape and order. “Djinn-speak. It’s real!” She carefully put her hand under the spout as if supporting a newborn’s head. Her heart surged, finger’s dancing on the cold brass surface. “Let’s do this.”
Mitr gave another loud objection, slinking down the woman’s arms and blocking the lamp with his hood.
“Look, if you were stuck in a lamp, wouldn’t you want someone to at least let you out so you can stretch and get some air?”
The cobra huffed and slowly lowered his head.
“Yes, yes you would. Now, hush.”
The nomad smiled and snuffed out the small flame with a stiff blow. Her eager grin returned as she slowly rubbed the lamp under the spout. The warm gray smoke where the flame had been shifted into a bright red that surged with heat and embers. The woman clutched the shuddering lamp and the smoke trail grew into a towering plume many times the woman’s size.
Her broad smile only faltered as a deep and devious maniacal laughter started filling the room.