The first thing to know about Josephus is that he was a foot guy. That’s not overly important to this story, but he certainly wasn’t shy about discussing it, so it feels right to lead with that. The second thing to know about Josephus is that djinni are not something to be messed with. Even the ones too old to be mischievous have other, well, shortcomings that Josephus was all too late in understanding.
In the latter days of the reign of King Muldious the Irreverent, Josephus found himself ousted from his job as the Royal Wizard after inquiring about the Queen’s shoe size more times than was appropriate. For a renowned foot guy, the appropriate number was apparently zero. So a powerful wizard found himself bored and adrift, which is how most apocalypses start, but as power-mad as he was, as all wizards were and are, he wasn’t looking for revenge on those who wronged him, nor was he looking for a way back into the king’s good graces. He had just had enough and wanted to get away.
So he headed south. Far, far south, where the plains gave way to desert and mountains, where the ruins of ancient civilizations dotted the scarred landscape, and where the ladies walked around in sandals all day, every day.
Josephus set up shop in an abandoned tower in the middle of a large playa deep in the desert, and there he found a secret door in the floor that led to a vast and ancient underground temple. And at the bottom of that temple, he found the stuff of legends, Bruce the Djinn. Even for naturally long-lived djinni, Bruce was ancient, and the centuries alone in the temple were starting to show on him.
“Is that you, Jalazor?” Bruce asked in a creaking voice. “It is I, Bruce. Still well, having waited some time for your return.”
“The wizard Jalazor is known to me,” Josephus said, “as he is known to all wizards of considerable power. But he has been dead these past two thousand years.”
“What!?”
“Yes, I am sorry to say he is dead.”
“No! The whole thing? I couldn’t hear a word.”
“Oh— well, I—.”
“And speak up!”
Josephus sighed. “He’s dead.” Josephus almost yelled.
“Dead? Impossible. I granted his wish to live for a thousand years.”
Jalazor and the Djinn
“Indeed! It is said that he died on his thousandth birthday when a giant tower appeared in the sky and fell upon him.”
Bruce raised an ancient eyebrow. “Would explain the ruckus then. Has it really been thousands of years?”
“It has.”
“A ham? No, I don’t want a ham. Why would you ask such a thing?”
“No, I meant IT HAS. IT HAS.”
Bruce harrumphed. “No need to yell, young wizard.”
Josephus decided to drop it. “Shame about Jalazor. Perhaps he should have wished for eternal life?”
Bruce scowled. “All wishes are double-edged swords. Most of us djinni are just those dumb enough to wish for eternal life. Without death, the meaning drains from everything one does.” He looked around as if searching for something that could not be there.
Josephus nodded. “That is wise.”
“Marriage ties? What are you on about?”
“What? Oh, nothing. Nothing.” Josephus remembered to keep his voice raised.
“I’m not marrying you. I’m not marrying anybody at my age.” Bruce looked away. “Course, it is awful lonely down here. Don’t suppose anyone would know.”
“There’s no marriage.” He decided to yell. “No marriage!”
“Well, why’d you bring it up then? Isn’t nice, playing with an old djinn’s feelings.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Josephus said, speaking slowly and deliberately. “Because you’re a djinn without a master, and I’m here now. We’re going to rule the world.”
“Rue what word? Why would I be ruing that?”
“No! Rule! Rule the world!”
Bruce sighed and tilted his head to one side. “You’re not the first fancypants wizard to come about, you know? Many before you have stumbled into the power of the djinni and thought themselves its master just by your presence. But it takes far more than that, I’m afraid.”
“A test then.”
“Were it so easy,” Bruce laughed, then developed a coughing fit that went on for quite some time. “You may have three wishes, and I will grant you everything within my vast power, but first, you must bring me three gifts.”
“Do I get to choose the gifts?”
“No, you don’t get to choose the gifts,” Bruce replied with an attitude. “This is my quest, so I will choose the gifts you must bring me. First, you—.”
“Quick question. Is it one gift per wish? Like, if I only get two of them, can I get two wishes?”
Bruce shrugged excessively. “What is this bargaining nonsense? There’s no bargaining and no half-finished quests.”
“Technically, it would be a third-finished. Or two-thirds! Possibly.”
“No! None of that. You bring me three gifts, and you get three wishes. You bring me not three gifts, and you get no wishes. Is that clear enough?”
“Crystal. Continue.”
“Why thank you, your majesty.” Bruce waited a long time to see if Josephus would interject again, but he did not. “For your first gift, you must bring me… the laughter of a small child.”
There was silence for a long moment. “What?” Josephus finally said.
“Which one of us is hard of hearing again?”
“But that doesn’t make any sense.”
“Makes perfect sense to me.”
“Well, can you be more specific? Like, should I try and capture the air a laughing child breaths out? Or make a device that sounds like a laughing child? Or just bring a child to you and make it laugh?”
“I can’t do the quest for you, you know?”
Josephus was getting tired and angry. Never a good mix for a powerful wizard faced with an even more powerful being. “I’m not asking for that. I’m asking you to be specific about the gift.”
“Laughter. Of a. Small child. How much more specific can I get?” Bruce said, continuing quickly before Josephus could jump in. “For your second gift, you must bring me… one hundred vlarda.”
“A hundred what?!”
Bruce sighed. “Oh, you’re going to be one of those wizards.”
“There’s no such thing as a vlarda!”
“Of course there is! Gold coins minted by the kingdom of Vlarsol. Legal tender for the repayment of debt or for goods and services. Any of this ringing a bell?”
“There’s no kingdom called Vlarsol! You’re just making this up—. Wait, do you mean Vlarkos? As in the ancient kingdom of Vlarkos?”
“Sounds about right, I guess. Sometimes names change over the years. Sometimes you hear things wrong. Is all I’m saying.”
“Vlarkos is a mythical kingdom. Rumored to have existed over a thousand years ago, before the dragon army led by the great black dragon Ploof razed it to the ground.”
“Oh! Did Ploof finally do that? Good for him. He’d been going on about doing it for centuries.”
“But that means there is no kingdom of Vlarkos anymore.”
“Sounds true. Ploof was known to be thorough.”
“And that means there can’t be any vlarda.”
Bruce just shrugged. “I’m sure there’s some floating around. There was an awful lot of it.”
“I didn’t even know it existed! Nobody’s seen any in years. How am I supposed to get a currency that’s not around.”
Bruce shrugged. “Magic?”
Josephus growled. “And you live in a deserted temple underneath a decaying tower in the desert. What could you possibly need with coins?”
“My reasons are my own! Would you like to know the third item?”
Josephus sighed. “I guess.”
“You don’t have to, you know. You can just turn around and leave all this power to be found by someone else. Someone more… helpful.”
“Ugh, fine. What is it?”
Bruce brought a finger to his lips as he stared ahead, deep in thought. He smiled as he brought down his hand. “The small toe from your greatest admirer.”
Josephus opened his mouth.
“Don’t say what!” Bruce interjected.
“Ugh. I mean, what could you possibly need with that? Don’t answer that! And anyway, the toe from which foot? And my greatest admirer? Isn’t that subjective? Who knows if who I consider my greatest admirer is the same as you? And how do you even know any of my admirers?”
Bruce flicked his wrist to bat away the questions. “I’m sure a wizard of your prowess can figure it out.”
“This is unreasonable.”
“What?! We’re indoors. There’s no weather at all in here.”
“No…, not un…, you know what, never mind.”
“So you’ll get me my items?”
Josephus’ eyes hardened. “And you’ll give me my wishes.”
Bruce spread out his hands. “The power of the cosmos will be yours to command.”
“Excellent.”
“Egg salad? No, I don’t need food. And gross, by the way.”
And so Josephus grumbled and left the djinn in the temple. He went out in the world not only to collect the items but also to figure out what in the hell the items were. But if there were anyone in history more prepared to dissect the mind of a djinn, it was Josephus.
Three glorious adventures were had, one for each item, and each one taking a piece of Josephus’ soul. But those tales are not for this time.
Exactly a year later, Josephus returned to the desert and the djinn.
“Have you my items?” Bruce asked in a hoarse whisper.
“Have you my wishes? I’ve half a mind to use one to wish to know what these items mean to you.”
“All knowledge is cloaked in regret. People love a good mystery.”
“Enough! I’ve been to hell and back for these. So take your items and open the cosmos to me.”
“Most of the cosmos,” Bruce said in a mumble.
“What?!”
“Most of the cosmos. There are rules, you know. You can’t, for example, wish for more wishes.”
“Why not?”
“That’s not how it works. Wishing for wishes disrespects the process. People who wish for wishes get no wishes. That’s a new rule. Or an old rule. Anyway, it’s a rule.”
“Well, I don’t like being limited, but at least that makes sense.”
“And no wishing for armageddon.”
“Why not?!”
“The world’s gonna end when it’s good and ready. There’s no rushing that. And anyway, I live in the world. I’m certainly not going to grant any wishes that would do me harm.”
Josephus rolled his eyes. “These seem like caveats best mentioned a year ago.”
“Hey! Just stick with the bigguns. Money, power, women… or men. Whatever. Go with them, and you’ll be fine.”
“Oh, I shall.” Josephus reached into his bag and pulled out a large bottle with a glass stopper.
The djinn flinched.
“As requested, one laugh of a small child.” He handed the bottle to Bruce, who took it reluctantly.
“So, you went with capturing the air? Will that be enough?” He took the stopper out. A puff of smoke released from the bottle, and the sound of a child laughing filled the chamber. It was high and lilting, seeming to bring lightness to even the darkest corners of the temple.
“I expect that will be sufficient?”
“Oh, quite so, Bruce said with a cracked smile. “I do wonder, though, about the child. A boy, I think? Did you kill him after?”
Josephus was about to attempt an explanation, unsure if that was a wise idea, but Bruce waved him off.
“No! Don’t tell me. Djinni like mysteries too.” He laughed a high, crackling laugh before stopping with a small coughing fit. “Now, the second item.”
Josephus pulled a smaller bag out of his large one and handed it to Bruce. Bruce opened the bag and turned it upside down. A hundred gold pieces stamped with the symbol of Vlarkos fell out and clattered across the floor. “A hundred vlarda.”
Bruce picked one up and looked it over. “Oh, very nice. Very nice. Are they new coins stamped like the old? Or did you uncover some hidden trove? No! Don’t answer again. This gift is acceptable. Now, the last one.”
Josephus breathed in. There was no way to undo his deeds now, but somehow it didn’t all seem like it would be final until he turned the toe over to the djinn. His conscience itched inside his mind, but he quieted it. There would be time enough for ruminations when he ruled the world. This was all a means to an end, after all.
Josephus reached into his bag and pulled out a small glass jar filled with an orange, translucent gel. Suspended in the middle of the gel was a severed small toe. He turned over the jar to the djinn. “My part of the bargain is complete.”
Bruce held the jar up to inspect the toe in the dim light of the temple. “So tell me, how did you determine your greatest admirer?”
“The task is done. I’ll not speak of it.”
“Oooh. Do I sense regret? Surely not. After all, the power you seek is worth more than anything.”
Josephus did not react.
“What?”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Are you sure?”
Josephus groaned. “I’m not going to talk about it. Does the gift suffice?”
“Glistening ice? There’s no ice within a hundred miles of here.”
Josephus sighed and said no more.
Bruce opened the jar’s top and pulled out the toe.
“It’ll spoil outside the jar.”
“Most things do. That’s what makes them worth it. This gift will suffice. You have brought me three gifts, and you will now get your wishes. Josephus the wizard, what is your first wish?”
Josephus knew what he was to say, knew to keep it short and sweet without room for ambiguity. Josephus had practiced this moment a hundred times or more in the past few days but found his concentration jarred by the djinn’s words. He had never told the ancient being his name, so how did someone stuck in a temple know that? Was there something more going on here? A joke? Or a scheme? He couldn’t ask questions lest the idiot djinn mistake them for a wish. The only path was forward, so Josephus thrust all other thoughts from his mind.
He knew his three wishes. He knew their order. And he knew what the final effect would be. The entire world would be his to play with.
“For my first wish, I wish,” he said, “to be the world’s most powerful and undying wizard.”
There was a long silence.
“Really?” Bruce said.
“What, really?” Josephus answered. “Seems fairly standard.”
“I wouldn’t say that. Does explain some of the ice fetish, though.”
“That what fetish?! Wait, what did you hear?”
“How can you steer? This is a temple, not a cart! Bah, whatever. Wish granted.”
“WAIT—.”
And with that, Josephus found himself high above the temple, high above the desert, looking down upon it all through a thin veil of white. He was made, through the power of the cosmos, into the world’s most powerful and undying blizzard.
Amidst the wind and snow that now encompassed his being, he could hear a child’s laughter. And just beyond, the laughter of a woman as well. A woman he knew well.
His final two wishes remain.