This story is a mix between romance and sci-fi, based on old fashioned magic. There is no sex, at least in this part. Constructive comments are very welcome. EVERYONE in the story is at least eighteen years old, some thousands of years old.
Thanks to Headitor for editing support - any remaining errors we missed - we don't need to be told.
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A quiet figure moved through the dark, a large lonely figure, with a slight limp and a stoop. Stacy Brands was a security guard, at fifty-four, not exactly the life he'd hoped for. Tonight he was guarding the last belongings of a once rich and powerful man. The man's life reduced to a burnt-out house, leaving just a few boxes in the separate garage. Stacy's company had been tasked with guarding the property since arson had been suspected. The kids of the man who passed had already divided up his belongings after the will reading. His house had been left to charity, but had burned a week ago, the day after the reading. All the man had left had been reduced to a few boxes. He'd died alone and lonely, something Stacy knew all too well.
A quick scan with a flashlight proved everything was still there. He donned his bright yellow raincoat and headed out into the cold and wet, to make his foot patrol around the property. The arson investigators seemed to be in no hurry to check the remains. That seemed odd, but then again, the man had not really been liked by anyone. He'd campaigned against the raises for police, fire and ems every time the city brought the idea up.
The cold rain was falling at a steady pace, the damp penetrating his bones. Rubbing his wet hands trying to ease the ache in them, he continued. The area checked, he headed back into the garage. Soaked even through the raincoat, his hands hurt so bad from the chill. His flashlight scanned the boxes again, startling a cat who had found refuge, and sending one of the boxes to the floor with a clatter. He sighed and headed to pick it up, hoping nothing had broken. Any broken items would be deducted from his already minuscule paycheck.
He picked up the box and its contents; nothing appeared damaged. One item seemed to be a lamp like the ones from the old Aladdin movies. He chuckled, at the thought of the genie in the magic lamp. He gave it the few customary rubs seen in cartoons and movies, and placed it back in the box, setting the whole thing back on its shelf.
Stacy managed to coax the cat out of hiding with a few pieces of his sandwich; it curled up on his lap. He welcomed the warmth of the fur on his aching hands as he fed it bites of his only meal of the day...
Bellinia sat on her comfy overstuffed bed of pillows sipping a glass of wine. How long had she been here? According to her recollection almost twelve thousand years, through a thousand worlds maybe. On her home world, a mere two hundred years. Having been tricked and trapped by collectors who sought out those of her kind, she was now a servant, having once been a princess. Trapped in this small vessel she'd been a pawn ever since her capture, sold to the highest bidder, then randomly handed around once her master died. Many of those who had summoned her had promised to use their last wish to free her from this prison; after the first couple of thousand years she'd given up hope.
Some masters were not so bad; they had only wanted a few simple things. Others were sadistic. She'd witnessed overthrown governments, watched genocide, seen the rise and fall of many nations, countries, planets even an entire solar system.
She cursed her existence for the thousandth time. She'd never be free. She had not felt remorse in at least three thousand years. If she refused any wish that was in her power, she would be banished to a tortured eternity in limbo. Luckily each master was given only three wishes, and after they were granted, she could not be summoned again. Many became angry when their first wish was denied: her captor had built in a failsafe against infinite wishes. Angry or not, they could not do her any harm, she was far from those who could. Bellinia didn't not even know if they still existed after so long.
What she wanted more than anything, was to be free and to return home. There she could live out her life in happiness. She would have aged two hundred years by now on her home world but would still have just over a thousand years of real life left.
Being trapped in the vessel stopped her aging process; she only aged for the time she was out. She could at least be comfortable in here; she had infinite space and had created quite the living space, full of all the comforts of home. She could conjure up anything she desired.
Her last master had been a rude and selfish man, he'd not wanted anyone harmed, just to manipulate stocks and of course be a rich owner of his own company. This world's masters seemed to be more interested in personal wealth than conquest of nations; at least there was that.
Bellinia felt a small amount of warmth on the outside of the vessel, it seemed a new master had arrived. Leisurely she stretched; she'd not hurry answering the summons but answer she must.
With a heavy sigh she stood and spun in front of her mirror, her long black hair now pulled up, her lips ruby red and wearing a short but flowing dress. Studying the reflection, she thought herself attractive. Every male master she'd had, had lusted after her and many female masters as well. Luckily the same magic that held her, kept her from being a sex slave. Another heavy sigh, then she snapped her fingers and appeared.
She was about to speak but no one was holding the vessel, it lay in a box. Bellinia studied a lone figure huddled in a chair, holding a black and white cat. The figure appeared to be feeding it something. Bellinia could hear the telltale purr of the animal and had learned from the knowledge she had amassed from this and other worlds that this meant happiness to the animal.
She was not bound to announce herself, so she studied the man. This was the first time she had been presented with this opportunity, everyone else had stood greedily after her summons. The man picked the cat up and nuzzled it then laid it back in his lap and rubbed his hands. He appeared to be in pain. She guessed his age to be maybe about sixty earth years.
"What's your name princess," he asked the cat, getting a mew in response. "You could at least tell me your name," he laughed, but his laugh seemed one of pain, "after all I gave you today's meal." The cat, seeming to sense his mood, stood and rubbed against his chest. "No worries little one, you need it more than I do."
This man was different from any others she'd come across. She closed her eyes and let her mind drift to him: she could read the surface thoughts of most. He had indeed given his only food to the cat, she felt the pain in his hands, how they ached from the cold. The pain in his knees, how they ached from walking to the job and around in the cold. She felt the loneliness in his heart.
Bound or not, she felt the need, no she felt the desire to let him know she was there. Bellinia cleared her throat, startling both the man and the cat. The cat went running off into the dark, and the man jerked to his feet. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," she said.
"You can't be here," the man said, regaining his composure.
"But you summoned me," Bellinia said.
"I what? No matter, you can't be here, if you are found here, I could lose my job. I really can't afford to lose it. Are you a relative of Mr. Waters?" he asked.
Bellinia had never come across someone who did not know they had summoned a Genie before. She stepped forward into more of the light. "You summoned me; you rubbed my lamp."
The man laughed, 'oh my I lost my mind. Well at least my mind summoned a lovely lady when it caved in on itself', he thought, sitting back down.
Bellinia cocked her head, he really did not believe her. "I am real," she said.
"Of course you are. I'm just dreaming."
She walked over and pinched his cheek; it was apparently customary here to pinch someone who thought they were dreaming.
"Ouch," he said.
"You are awake, and I am as real as they come," she said.
He now seemed to, at least partly, believe she was real. "Please... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you," he said. "Please just go away. Don't hurt me. I don't want any trouble. Please just go," he pleaded. She could see his eyes start to water.
Her hand gently touched his; he recoiled at her touch. "Why would I hurt you," she asked. "Why wouldn't you as everyone else does?"
"Please, just go away," he pleaded.
Studying him, she opened her mind to him again. He was in turmoil, believing, but also not accepting, that she was real. He was pretty sure he was losing his mind but was also almost afraid he wasn't.
"I promise I am bound by the magic in my vessel and cannot harm you." Bellinia snapped her fingers and the lamp appeared and hovered in the air in front of them. She spun and disappeared inside it, then reappeared and was standing in front of him again.
The man gasped, and reached an achy, shaking hand towards her. She held hers out and took his in hers; she felt the cold in his hand and he, the warmth in hers.
"Oh my God you are real," he said.
