Call of the King
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"Go get a gallon of milk, Aalim. You know your father can't sleep without a cup of tea, and you went and drank it all!" Aalim's mother, Shabnam, lived up to her fiery name. Her normally calm demeanor had morphed into raging flames.
Aalim, still half asleep, mumbled, "But Mom, it was just a cup of milk."
"A cup?" Shabnam boomed. "That 'measuring cup' holds half a liter, you little rascal!"
Aalim opened his mouth to argue but shut it fast at the sight of his father's grumpy face. With a sigh, he dragged himself out of bed and changed. Another gallon of milk, another late-night errand.
Aalim wasn't your typical sixteen-year-old. He was exhausted. Exhausted of everything. At an age when boys went to school, hung out with friends, and enjoyed life, Aalim was stuck in a relentless cycle that would make a grown man wince. Wake up, get ready, work from 8 a.m. to 7 p.m., hit the gym at 7:30 p.m., be home by 9 p.m., sleep by 10 p.m., and repeat. His parents, oblivious to his struggle, piled on the chores at every turn, his social life a forgotten dream. "Some people have it rough," he muttered, grabbing some money and heading out.
"The 'dad and milk' meme is getting a serious update," he thought with a sigh. The corner store was just a block away, but at this hour, even that felt like a marathon. He trudged out into the quiet night, grumbling under his breath, "Why does it have to be me all the time? Why am I so miserable? They make me do all this and don't even buy me a phone. Even little kids have one now."
As Aalim approached the corner store, the air around him suddenly grew cold. He shivered and glanced around. "Something feels so wrong about this place at this time," he thought, the streetlights flickering ominously. Without warning, a thick black mist swirled around him, pulling him in. He tried to scream, but no sound escaped his lips. Within seconds, Aalim was engulfed completely, evaporating into the mist.
When he opened his eyes, Aalim found himself in a different dimension, one made entirely of darkness and purple. The only sources of light were eerie-looking plants that moved of their own accord, casting long, shifting shadows. The sky above was an endless expanse of purple, dotted with massive floating landmasses, each the size of continents.
Fear gripped Aalim as he looked around this strange world. "What happened? Where the hell am I? Is this a dream? It has to be one," he whispered to himself. Pinching his arm didn't work, so he decided to walk, hoping to find a way back to his reality. "Whatever, my life is already so miserable. And I don't really have another way, do I?" He stammered fearfully.
After walking an unknown distance, Aalim noticed a small structure in the distance. "A structure? Do people live here? Don't tell me this is one of those demon houses that attracts desperate people and devours them," he said, fear clawing at his throat. The sight of it filled him with a strange mix of hope and dread. As he approached, the structure revealed itself to be a grand palace made of dark, shimmering stones. The entrance was guarded by towering statues of jinn with glowing eyes. "House? It's a whole ass freaking castle." He gasped aloud.
Taking a deep breath, Aalim stepped inside. He found himself in a vast hall, its walls lined with intricate golden carvings that seemed to tell ancient stories. At the far end of the hall, seated on a throne of gold and black onyx, was a figure that exuded power and majesty—the Jinn King, the Golden One. "Someone is here," Aalim said, his voice a trembling whisper, but still chose to approach.
The Jinn King observed Aalim with piercing golden eyes. "Welcome, Aalim," he said, his voice resonating through the hall. "I am the Jinn King, the Golden One. I brought you here."
Aalim, trembling, managed to ask, "Why am I here?"
The Jinn King rose from his throne, his presence both terrifying and awe-inspiring. "Long ago, God created the jinn from smokeless fire, granting us free will, just as He did with humans. We were created before Adam, and like humans, we have the choice to follow the path of good or evil."
The Jinn King began to walk around Aalim, his voice echoing in the vast hall. "Some jinn have chosen the path of darkness, venturing to Earth to terrorize humans, despite God's strict prohibition against contacting your kind. We call those jinn Ifrit. These rogue jinn pose a threat to both our worlds."
Stopping in front of Aalim, the Jinn King continued, "I have brought you here to train you, to prepare you to fight these evil jinn. You possess a unique strength, Aalim, one that can protect humanity from the shadows."
Aalim's mind raced, struggling to process everything. He wanted to not believe anything, but it was all in front of him. "But why me?" he asked. "I'm just a boy who went out to buy milk for my father."
The Jinn King smiled, a hint of sadness in his eyes. "Often, it is the most unassuming individuals who are chosen for the greatest tasks. Your hardships have forged a resilience in you, Aalim. You are capable of much more than you realize."
As the Jinn King's words sank in, Aalim felt a spark of determination igniting within him. He had been brought to this strange world for a reason, and despite his fear, he knew he had to rise to the challenge.
"Where do we start?" Aalim asked, his voice steady.
The Jinn King nodded approvingly. "We begin with understanding your own inner strength. The journey will be long and arduous, but I have faith in you. Follow me, and I will teach you the ways of the jinn."
With that, Aalim followed the Jinn King deeper into the palace, ready to embrace his destiny and protect his world from the lurking darkness.
---
as They walked King stopped before a wall for brief moment, and wall started to desolve into mist, beyond it was a whole country,
The streets of the other dimension were like nothing Aalim had ever seen. They were paved with a shimmering substance that seemed to shift colors as he walked. Buildings of various shapes and sizes loomed over him, their architecture defying the laws of physics. Some floated in mid-air, connected by bridges made of pure light. Strange creatures moved about, their forms shifting and changing as they went about their business.
As they walked, the Jinn King began to speak. "This world is both ancient and ever-changing, a reflection of the jinn who inhabit it. You must learn to adapt to its strangeness, for it is here that you will train and grow."
They arrived at a large open area filled with various weapons displayed on stands. Swords, spears, bows, and more, each gleaming with an otherworldly light. The Jinn King gestured to the array. "Choose your weapon, Aalim. Each of these is powerful, but only one will resonate with you."
Aalim walked among the weapons, feeling an inexplicable pull towards a particular one. His hand hovered over a beautifully crafted scythe. As soon as he touched it, he felt a surge of energy course through him. "This one," he said, lifting the scythe.
The Jinn King nodded. "A fine choice. The scythe is a symbol of both life and death, a fitting weapon for one who must stand between worlds."
He continued, "There is a weapon stronger than all others, one that cannot be wielded by anyone other than its chosen bearer. It is called Zulfiqar, the sword of Ali, the Lion of God. Its mere presence can cause even the strongest demon, Iblis, to tremble. Zulfiqar can cut through anything, but it was given to Ali by God, and it cannot be used by any other person."
The Jinn King then led Aalim to another part of the training grounds, where he began to explain about a unique energy. "This energy flows through all jinn and can be harnessed by those who are trained. It is called 'Aqil,' the essence of life and power. To master it, you must learn to control your own emotions and thoughts."
Aalim listened intently as the Jinn King demonstrated how to channel Aqil into his weapon. The process was intricate, requiring both mental focus and physical precision. But with each attempt, Aalim felt himself growing stronger, more attuned to the energy around him.
Days turned into weeks as Aalim trained under the Jinn King's watchful eye. He learned not only how to wield his scythe but also how to sense the presence of Ifrit and other dark entities. The training was grueling, but Aalim's determination never wavered.
One evening, as they sat by a fire, the Jinn King looked at Aalim with a rare softness in his eyes. "You have come far, Aalim. You are no longer just a boy sent to buy milk. You are a warrior, a protector of both our worlds."
Aalim nodded, feeling a sense of pride and purpose he had never known before. "Thank you," he said. "I won't let you down."
The Jinn King smiled. "I know you won't. But remember, this is just the beginning. The real battles lie ahead, and you must always be ready