"I smell... blood. Steel. Aggression without malice... How long has it been?"
Sheela opened her eyes, yawning and stretching her arms.
"How long has it been since I've seen a human in these halls? A few centuries? A millennium?"
She rubbed her eyes and adjusted her hair; presentation was everything. As the lost soul trapped in her dungeon walked closer, she sprang from her vessel. Spreading both her arms open, towering over the man.
"Welcome to my humble abode, mortal! Consider yourself blessed to stand before me!"
***
"Wha? Where the fuck am I?"
The soldier stood in the middle of what seemed like a desert temple. It looked forgotten by time, ancient. Sand covered the floor, shifting with each step the man took. In some places, his legs would sink up to their ankles in it. Murals and faded writing in some long-dead language lined the walls, telling a tale he simply could not read. Most of the images have eroded, but the soldier could still piece together what the temple was. A tomb of someone important, most likely, similar to the pyramids back on Earth. A woman, if the faded murals were anything to go by.
"Let's hope there's a way out of here." He mumbled, walking through the long hallway towards the main chamber. Sunlight illuminated his path, shining through the openings in the ceiling of the hallway. As impressive as the temple was, an archaeologist's wet dream, the soldier wasn't there to marvel at its history and architecture.
"Fucking elves and their magic bullshit." The soldier swore. He wasn't there of his own volition at all. One moment he was fighting the elves in the rain, and in the next he was coughing sand. Slowly, he entered the main chamber, sand subtly shifting around as if there was a breeze blowing through it.
The man stood for a moment, soaking in the sight. A large, circular room, half-drowned in sand and dust, decorated with murals and statues made from gold. The temple looked more and more like a pharaoh's tomb, judging by the amount of different riches, from crates of jewels and gold, intricately designed vases, ornate weapons, to the statues themselves.
He walked over to one of the statues, the closest one to the hallway from which he had entered, and gave it a closer look.
"Whoever made this must be fucked in the head." He thought while frowning and turning to look at the other statues.
All of them were made of solid gold, portraying various races, many of whom he hadn't encountered yet. Some were human, others elven or dwarven, and some looked like humanoid animals. One detail that remained a constant across all of them, the detail that he found to be very disturbing, was the look of anguish and horror on the faces of the statues. Each looked like it was depicting the final moments of whoever the artist's muse was, and from the looks of it, their final moments did not seem pretty.
Sand shifted more, moving in a circle along the edge of the room faster and faster.
"Welcome to my humble abode, mortal!"
A female voice tore through the century-long silence.
The man spun around, his right hand flew to his hip, but no weapon was there. Immediately, he lifted his other arm, hand clenched into a fist above which was a gun barrel.
Sheela paused; her theatrical introduction interrupted by the soldier's appearance. His left arm, from fist to shoulder, was entirely made of what she assumed was metal. His left eye seemed like a gemstone, giving off a soft, red glow.
The soldier looked up at her; her body seemed ethereal, as if made entirely from light and sand. That very sand swirled around her, covering her chest and hips like a golden cloud. Her legs ended a little below the knee, simply disappearing from view.
She was easily as tall as a two-story house, with long sable hair which flowed like it had a mind of its own, cascading down her back in waves. Her body, curved like the desert dunes that hid the temple and skin kissed by the sun and heat, was decorated in ornamental jewellery.
Eyes the colour of gold that filled the chamber, shone as she looked down at the man.
Her size made the chamber seem even larger.
The human did not seem impressed. His initial shock had worn off pretty quickly, as he looked the massive woman up and down.
"You don't have a shadow." He said matter-of-factly, before picking a small stone from the dusty floor and throwing it at her. The rock went right through her.
"Just as I thought. More magic or illusions, or whatever. Props for the entrance though, real showstopper."
"YOU DAARE?!" Sheela roared, raising her fist threateningly, but the deadpan stare of the mortal made her realise intimidation wouldn't work.
She changed her tune quickly, hiding the lingering irritation that his lack of respect stirred in her.
"Human... You fail to realise how fortunate you are. You stand before the great Sheela, Immortal Queen of the Dunes! I have made cowards into warriors, beggars into kings, mended broken hearts with harems of women! All you need to do is say what you wish for and I shall make it true."
Her size changed as she moved closer to the man, now only slightly taller than him, floating around the room like a cloud of sand.
"How long has it been since you've had a woman melt in your arms?"
The genie whispered, circling him, her floating turned to slow, deliberate walking as she gained a more solid shape. Like a trained seductress, Sheela rubbed against his left arm, feeling the warm metal under her fingers.
"Or perhaps you would like your arm and eye back? Or more pieces of gold than there are grains of sand in the desert? Just say what's in your heart."
"Wish huh?" The man ignored the floating apparition, instead looking around the chamber, looking for where she had come from.
He knew that genies tend to twist the wishes they grant, either to teach people a lesson or just for their own sick fun. The man could've wished to be sent back where he came from, but no doubt the genie would manage to distort the wish in some way. He chose to trust his own two feet more than the supposedly all-powerful Sheela.
"Why are you even here?" He asked, unable to contain his curiosity. Keeping her talking to make sure she didn't do anything while he scanned the chamber for an exit or the source of the apparition.
"Oh, my tale is a tragic one. The scholar I have helped become a powerful Archmage imprisoned me here." Sheela floated over to an old-looking vase, theatrically falling to her knees and wrapping her arms around it.
"Now I wait here, for centuries, for someone so selfless to grant me my freedom at last." She batted her eyelashes and gave him a sad look.
"So, you're a genie? Huh, I've always expected you guys to have beards and be blue."
The soldier said, chuckling to himself.
"You grant wishes, but twist them in a way, so someone would learn a lesson or something, right?"
"Wh-? No, no, no human. Where'd you get that idea?"
Sheela was caught off guard by the question, floating back over to the man. His guess was dead on, and the fact that he saw through her in only a few seconds made her boil with anger, which she quickly suppressed.
"Don't tell me you have no desires. I've heard that a thousand times. I know it's a lie every SINGLE time!" She hissed, dancing the line between allure and venom, trying harder to make him give up on trying to figure her out.
"So be a good boy, save us both time and drop the act. What do you wish for? Riches? Power? Influence? Women? Your limbs back?"
The genie looked into the man's eyes, frowning at eyes looking back at her. He was intrigued, but she could tell it was more due to the situation than the prospect of having a wish granted.
"You fucking warhound."
She spat on the ground beside him, making a face of disgust and disappointment.
"First human in several centuries and it's a homicidal cripple with no will to live."
She had never seen a uniform like his before, but it was evident that he was a soldier of some kind. But even soldiers had wishes they asked for. Certainly, most of them were selfish, like becoming a lord or a king or an immortal warrior. Some were plain sadistic, such as wishes to bathe in the blood of enemies for all time or enslave entire kingdoms. But they all wished without hesitation, and she granted each and every wish.
The man standing before her threw her off in ways she had never experienced. Here she stood, in all her glory, and yet he looked disinterested and bored, like he was merely perusing a store and was disappointed with the inventory it offered. His eyes scanned the room for an exit, and the fact that they weren't staring at her in awe instead made Sheela want to obliterate the man where he stood. She would've done it too, were genies not bound by rules and laws they had to abide by.
"Bark all you want, genie." Mocked the human, finally turning his attention to her.
"Throwing insults at me won't get me to wish faster. I know how y'all work. I will wish for gold or something, and you will turn me into a golden statue." The man pointed to several statues of different creatures that decorated the corners of the main chamber.
"They don't look very happy. I mean, who makes a statue with its arms raised in horror?"
"Ever heard of artistic expression?" The genie hissed bitterly as she walked back to her vase and sat beside it. He wasn't as stupid as she assumed he'd be. The statues were indeed prior victims of Sheela's wish-granting over the centuries.
The soldier rubbed the back of his sunburnt neck with his mechanical left hand.
"Man, I wish..." He mumbled.
Sheela's head snapped back up to look at him, a devious smirk of triumph plastered on her face, only to be met with the human's shit-eating grin and the index finger of his good hand pointed at her.
"Ah, got ya." He laughed.
"Ugh... If there is truly nothing you want, get out of here. I want to go back to my slumber. Leave this place, live your whole miserable life knowing you could have become more than you ever imagined." She waved her hand, motioning for him to get out of her sight.
"So... which way is the nearest settlement?" Asked the soldier, turning around and looking around the chamber again, still having no clue which way the exit was, if it even existed.
The genie shrugged, a small smile flashed across her face for a moment from the knowledge that he was stuck, lost or both.
"No idea. I've been here for so long. You know, when you're a genie, people sort of come to you. Now, if you WISH to know, then I might be able to help."
The soldier knew nothing about genies beyond what he read in books and saw on shows, and movies. However, he was not wrong in his assumption that genies are not benevolent and they, due to a superiority complex that stems from their almost omnipotent powers, often grant the wishes in a twisted fashion. What he didn't know is that Sheela gained power for each twisted wish she granted by essentially taking it from her victims and would eventually grow powerful enough to free herself.
"We seem to be at an impasse, genie. I need to get out of here and find my way back to my troops and you need to fulfil your sick pleasure of screwing over another moron. Since I don't intend to just die in the desert, I will take a gamble and have you grant my wish." The man said, pulling up one of the dusty chests and sitting on it.
Sheela almost leapt with joy, grinning ear to ear, once more assuming her towering and imposing form, her voice booming through the chamber.
"Splendid choice, human! Now, speak! Tell mighty Sheela your wish."
He went silent, as if deep in thought. The man recalled what she told him, how an archmage trapped her there. He remembered a movie he watched as a young boy, where a powerful sorcerer became a genie and was thus trapped in a lamp.
The soldier looked up at Sheela. Her eyes and smile widened as she awaited to hear his wish, trying her best to seem as honest and good-natured as possible.
He rubbed his chin with his metal hand.
"If she were trapped by an archmage, then she might have been something else before becoming a genie." He looked down at the ornamental vase that seemed to be her version of a lamp.
With a reluctant sigh, he made up his mind.
"My wish for you, oh all-powerful Sheela, is that you become such that the vase can no longer hold or bind you!"
Sheela roared with laughter, the sand from the desert pouring into the temple, wrapping around her like a sandstorm. The vase shook and trembled, cracks appearing all over it, as the genie swirled and laughed, relishing in the thought of her soon-to-come freedom. She was so eager to grant his wish, to teach the rude mortal a lesson he would never forget, that she did not even consider the implication of his wish or what form it would take.
"You fool! Do you think this will grant you some favour with me? That I'll 'owe you one'?" She roared, her golden eyes shining through the vortex of sand and dust.
"Nonsense! You will be the first one I turn into a corpse for your insolence towards me. This temple will serve as your tomb!"
The restraints on her wrists fell to the ground with a clang, before turning into sand and being sucked back onto the rattling vase. The vortex began flowing into the vase, and Sheela quickly followed.
The imprisoning vase shattered violently a second later, ceramics and sand flying in every direction, causing the soldier to cover his face with his metal left arm. As the dust settled, he waved his other arm a bit, clearing the view in front of him, followed by some coughing.
"I'm... free." The genie said, sitting where the vase once was. She could feel everything: the cool, stale air of the chamber, the warm sand she sat in, the jewellery she was adorned with against her skin. His wish came rushing back, her eyes widening as she realised what had happened.
She looked over at the man, suddenly covering her chest with both her arms. The woman looked the same as before, and the amount of clothes, or lack thereof, had not changed either.
"Don't just stand there, oaf! Toss me a curtain or something to cover myself!" Sheela hissed an order at the soldier.
He grabbed a piece of cloth from the pile of various riches that littered the chamber and tossed it over to her.
Sheela could not fully process what she was feeling. Liberation. Shock. Anger. Embarrassment.
She never felt so exposed before, despite wearing nothing but her ornamental jewellery for millennia.
"Your wish... I was to be free. The vase is gone, broken. My prison is broken. Yet my power, I..."
The genie could feel power surging inside her, but it was different. It felt like it was leaving her, dissipating into the air and sand around her. Thousands of years' worth of stolen power that she had accumulated from her victims was rapidly vanishing.
She quickly wrapped herself in the cloth as soon as she caught it and rushed over to one of the ornamental mirrors in the pile of treasure.
"What am I? What did the wish turn me into?!"
A sigh of relief escaped her lips, her heart skipping a beat and clenching in her chest as she swallowed a lump upon seeing herself in the dusty mirror. She was her old self. The wish reverted her to who she was prior to becoming a genie. She was finally free, something she had longed for since the day she became trapped in the temple. The joy of the moment, however, was muddled by the feeling of mana and millennia of power leaving her faster and faster. She stole that power as a genie, and could no longer keep it now that she wasn't one anymore.
Never before did she feel so exhausted and limp, like she could not even cast a single, smallest spell. At the speed at which she was losing power, she would soon be at the mercy of the soldier, something she would not allow to happen.
Sheela rose to her feet, channelling all the mana she still had and extended her right arms towards him. The sudden motion caught the man off guard.
"Wither to dust and begone from my sight," She shouted, as a torrent of sand and dust hit the man and launched him backwards across the chamber.
***
"So, have we calmed down?" Solon asked, sitting down next to Sheela, but still keeping some distance.
"Don't patronise me, human." She sighed, turning her head to look at the man, as he was shaking sand out of his metal arm.
"My power is gone so much that I could not even end a pitiful human." She frowned, looking down at her hands.
The sun was sending its rays through the holes in the temple ceiling, bathing both of them in light. The former Genie watched, for the first time, as her own shadow stretched across the floor.
"How did you trick me?" She whispered, closing her eyes and basking in the warmth of the sunlight.
"Pretty simple." Answered the soldier, grinning at his ingenuity and the fact that such an insane idea actually worked.
"You said an archmage tricked you, trapping you in the vase and making you a genie. So, I assumed that by asking for the opposite, you'd turn into whatever you were before."
He pointed at her with his good hand, as if waiting for her to clue him in to what race she was. Being that she had pointed ears similar to an elf and eyes that had a soft, golden glow, Solon knew her original form wasn't human.
"Desert folk. They used to be common in these lands. Hell, they even built this temple." Sheela replied, looking at him and not once believing his answer. Anger came back in a second wave, the more she thought about what he said.
"Also, you must be… I don't know. Who in their right mind comes up with a wish like that? When you literally could've wished for anything else!"
"I'm just different, I guess." Solon grinned and started looking around the chamber again.
"Now, how do we get out of here?"
"Hell if I know. I've been here for thousands of years. Last I've seen a human, you didn't have gemstones for eyes or metal arms." She sighed and stood up, joining him in looking for a way out while still maintaining some distance.
"Oh. I'm not from this world. We came through the portal gates." The man said matter-of-factly.
"We? There's more of you?" She gave him a shocked look, quickly replacing it with one of indifference.
"Of course, there are more of them, Sheela. Ever heard of soldiers travelling alone?"
Solon's claim that he came from another world made sense, considering her spell caused him nothing more than mild discomfort from filling his clothes with sand. Even with her power quickly escaping when she cast it, it should've at least broken a few of his bones.
"So that's why my spell did nothing."
"Yeah. We are immune to magic." The man replied, pushing against a massive stone slab with all his might, huffing and grunting.
"How'd you end up here? Where are the rest of your brothers in arms?" Sheela asked, now feeling increasingly suspicious of the man.
"Fought some elves," Solon grunted, pushing against the slab again.
"One opened a portal, and another kicked me through it. Mind lending me a hand?"
"No." She answered without hesitation, rummaging through the treasure pile for something wearable that wasn't a piece of old cloth. Most of the clothes that the statues wore either turned to gold along with them or ripped as soon as she touched them, since they stood there for God-knows how long.
With one more push, the slab moved and slowly fell with a loud thud that echoed across the temple halls and raising a large cloud of dust. Solon smiled as he could see the exit at the end of the long hall that the slab had previously blocked.
"So... what do we do now?" She asked, back turned to him, as she finally found something more becoming to wear.
"Well, priority number one is getting outside of this desert. Finding a settlement or something." The man replied, patting the dust off his pants.
"I think there used to be a settlement west of here." She walked up to him, having put on a dusty, old, toga-like dress that she took from one of the chests.
"Should not be too far. Maybe a day or so away. Here." Sheela handed him a large cloth, a piece of an ornamental curtain whose colour had been drained by the passage of time.
"It will keep up somewhat safe from the sun and heat."
"Oh, you are tagging along, almighty Queen of the Dunes?" Solon grinned.
"Fuck off. Thanks to you, my only alternative is starving to death in this temple, so yes. I am coming with. Better take good care of me, Solon."
She huffed, walking past him. Even in her normal form, Sheela was still an entire head taller than the human.
"Solon?" The soldier followed her as they walked through the hallway and stepped into the sun.
She pointed to his mechanical left arm.
"Yes, that is what I have decided to name you."
"But I already have a name." The man protested.
"Not in this world, you don't. Now stop being difficult and walk." Sheela huffed her superiority complex back in full effect.
The soldier sighed, choosing not to argue.
"The former genie seemed to have gotten over her new change pretty quickly." He thought to himself as the pair left the temple behind them.