Prologue: A Stage Set
June 1, 1462 of the Common Age
The snow-capped double peaked mountain known to those of the valley floor simply as the Antlers was a majestic sight to behold. Located at World Uppermost, the snow-covered mountain loomed high over the southern landscape below, a vast landscape of endless grasslands and tundras which seemed to spread on for eternity. The Antlers was also the source of all the water in the valley floor below, its winter runoff having long since eroded away at the now petrified stump of the Deep Tree, which had once been the tallest tree in the world, reaching past the clouds themselves. Legends said that the Evertree itself had been so tall that it, too, could be covered in snow near the top but not near the bottom.
The eroded cave led to an interior cavity within the tree and pooled around the massive Pool of Dreams, a glowing body of water which illuminated the cavern in a cool blue glow. Here, a magic lost to time purified the water, which overflowed and had eroded its way towards the south, forming the Everfalls. There, the falls fell towards the First Lake, which, according to some deer myths, was the very first body of water to have formed on this continent.
From that lake, the mighty Azure River flowed through the land, giving life bringing water to the deer who lived in the small villages below, or providing for those stubborn tribes who continued wandering the landscape. The river split over five hundred trotlengths downstream. One flow, the eastern Azure, headed towards the eastern ocean, but the western headed towards the Mors Ruins, a relic of the deer’s old past Golden Age before the Time of Ruin befell them all those hundreds of years past. It was a cursed place, a dangerous ruin full of dark magic and deadly traps and pitfalls still left in place from when it was sacked all those years past. The Ruins themselves were still visible to the south, blackened and charred by the fires that had destroyed the castle so long ago.
However, one relic of the past Golden Age remained in the once proud northern land of the deer. On top of the former Deep Tree stump sat a temple, a temple covered in green foliage. It was known as the Temple of True Accord. Its curved rooftops underneath the vines were carved with ancient enchantment symbols that had been carved over fifteen hundred years ago, protecting the interior and keeping it and the denizens warm inside. It was the main headquarters for the Order of Unitas, an ancient order of deer enchanters and mages whose existence predated even the Era of Strife before the Golden Age.
The interior of the temple had four floors, the first being the living quarters for each of the members of the Order of Unitas, including their Acolytes, Priests and the High Priestess. The second level was a library containing many ancient books, many of which were the only remaining copies that had been saved from the Mors Ruins. The third level had rooms that were repurposed for classroom sessions for the Acolytes to learn all there was to learn about the deer’s special talent for enchantment.
But it was the fourth level that only the most senior rankings of the Ten Priests and the High Priestess could visit: the Meditation Den. Here, it was said that the Unitas hierarchy kept an eye on the world around them using their power over the mystical Third Eye, a large piece of amber said to contain pollen from the Deep Tree before its untimely destruction. Using the Third Eye, they were even able to sense magical disturbances as far west as the Kingdom of Equestria, half a world away.
It was in the Temple of True Accord’s first floor, however, where Acolyte Opheda sat at her desk, staring at one of her many failed attempts at enchanting. Her room was small but functioned perfectly for the purposes of her station. There was a small single person bed, covered by a thick quilt, one of the only few possessions she was allowed to bring with her. Across from that was a desk, and to the right was a small closet where her meager possessions sat on the shelves. Next to it sat a bookshelf filled with all of the knowledge she was currently allowed to possess.
At the foot of her bed was another door which led into a private bathroom, something that all rooms in the Temple had. It included a tub, a toilet, and a sink. All the water for the facility was taken from other runoff streams that flowed down the sides of the Antlers.
Between the bed and desk was a large window looking west. The floor was solid oak, built from the old remains of some of the recovered branches of the Deep Tree. The ceiling too was made of the same wood. The walls themselves were a pale cream color, and bare of any type of decoration despite the signs of previous occupants having said décor in the form of old rusted nails and hooks and outlines where there may have been portraits.
Opheda had no such luxuries. She was new to Unitas, the society of peacekeepers among her kind. She was young, barely a doe of twenty, and one of the few does lucky enough to have grown a set of antlers. Her fur was a deep chocolate brown with a small white stripe on her forehead, and her antlers, while smaller than other does lucky enough to enter the order, were still just barely powerful enough for her to qualify to become an Acolyte.
She concentrated her magic onto the small piece of paper with the enchantment circle on it, trying to make a nearby crystal gain the ability to absorb sunlight and store it until needed. The Temple of True Accord relied heavily on firestone crystals or wall sconces, which worked, but the light Opheda wanted was a cooler one. One which didn’t quite hurt her eyes as badly as torches or firestones did. Her antlers glowed with their signature aquamarine color, and while she could very well use the light spell to illuminate her room at night, she was still only able to hold it for five or so minutes before a headache stopped her.
Hence, her attempt at creating a stone which stored sunlight and turned it into a glowing silver star which could help her read and study at night. Opheda was nothing if not studious, perhaps too much so. She concentrated all her gathered aether towards the enchantment, trying to recreate its intricate lines of engravings and ancient writing into a magic circle between her antlers. The harder she tried, however, the more her head continued to hurt. With a final push, she forced any remaining aether she felt she could spare into her antlers.
And the world exploded into a jumble of colors around her.
She was thrown back against the wall, slamming into it with enough speed to cause a small crack to form right where the majority of her weight hit. She grunted as she slid down said wall. Fortunately, she landed on her bed, more dazed and confused than in pain. The world was ringing around her and any other sounds were muffled.
Somedeer popped into view before her, an older cow with a concerned expression on her face. The dazed Acolyte shook her head in response to whatever the other deer was saying, then pointed to her ear and said, or thought she said, “Can’t hear!”
The older deer, who Opheda recognized as Maerise, one of the more junior Priestesses, frowned, then shook her head. Lifting her horns, they glowed their signature amber, and Opheda could suddenly hear again. Maerise looked down at her young charge. “Can you hear me now?” she asked sternly.
Opheda’s heart dropped at the tone in the Priestess’ voice. “Yes, matron,” she said softly.
Maerise looked back at the desk, which had, by now, cracked down the middle. Pieces of paper and books were scattered everywhere, and there was a shattered piece of quartz sitting in the epicenter of the burn marks of the magical explosion. “What in Accord’s sake were you trying to do, Acolyte?” Maerise asked, looking between the quartz and Opheda with a stern tone.
“Ah…I was…trying out a new enchantment,” Opheda said nervously, rubbing her hooves together.
“In what? Excavation?” Maerise asked with a raised eyebrow.
“No no!” Opheda said quickly. “I just…I wanted something other than a candle or a firestone.”
Maerise looked back down at the floor, then used her magic to pick up a half-burned piece of paper, the remnants of her attempted enchantment. She looked over what remained, examining it carefully, then placed it beside Opheda. “Your runes were sloppy,” she said, “and the ancient Deeric had incorrect grammar. How many times must I tell you not to practice more advanced enchantments until your lessons are complete? You could have been seriously injured, or worse.”
What made Maerise’s words that much more potent to the young Acolyte wasn’t what she said, but how she said them. Disappointed, like a mother with an unruly doe. Opheda frowned, but knew better than to argue with her personal matron. Maerise was the main reason she’d been allowed to become an Acolyte in the first place, seeing as they’d both come from the same village to the southeast of the Temple. “It won’t happen again, matron,” she promised, but inwardly she flinched when she heard how she sounded. Like a doe after being reproached.
“Ophy,” Maerise said tenderly, dropping into her more motherly tone, “you keep saying that but you just keep on trying more advanced enchantments. Now please tell me…is everything alright?”
Opheda nodded. “Everything’s fine, matron,” she said, giving a small smile.
“Don’t lie to me, young lady,” Maerise said. “You’ve only been here six months and already you’ve gotten into at least thirteen enchantment related accidents. I know you love to learn, but there is a reason why we teach at the speed we do. Your antlers are just not ready yet.”
Opheda wanted to contradict her matron. She wanted to scream that Maerise was full of shit, but she kept her mouth closed. She knew she was more than ready, but she felt like the other Priests and her teachers weren’t giving her a chance. But all she could do was nod her head in false agreement. “I understand, matron.”
Maerise looked deep into Opheda’s eyes for a few seconds before she sighed and looked around the room. “You have a lot to clean up, young lady. I suggest you get to it quickly. Sunset is only a few hours away.”
Opheda looked out of her bedroom window at the snowcapped peaks of the Morose Range. The light of the sun was beginning to head towards the mountain range itself. It would only be one more hour before the sun was hidden behind the mountains and she would need to light a candle or bring out one of the firestones. She nodded. “Yeah…I probably should,” she said, her ears flattening.
“Just keep in mind that I can’t keep overlooking this kind of behavior,” Maerise said. “You’re a gifted Acolyte despite your shorter antlers, but you need to stick to the rules if you want to become a Priestess someday.”
“Yes, matron,” Opheda replied automatically as she began to use her magic to pick up her now cracked desk and set it back where it belonged.
“Promise me, Ophy,” Maerise said, more urgently this time and pleadingly.
“I promise,” Opheda said, trying to muster as much sincerity into the lie as she could.
Maerise, thankfully, bought it. “Here, let me at least do this.” She turned to the desk and her antlers glowed. A large magic circle appeared on the desk and the crack through the center began to slowly vanish, leaving a flawless looking desk once again.
“Thank you,” Opheda said.
“You’re welcome. I’ll see you later at dinner, right?” Maerise asked.
“Um, maybe,” Opheda said uncertainly. “I might not be finished cleaning up before then.”
“I’ll have the chef set aside a portion for you just in case,” Maerise said. “And if I don’t see you at dinner, please go to bed at a decent time. I don’t need you falling asleep in class again.”
“Yes, matron,” Opheda said automatically. Sighing and shaking her head, her matron left the room, closing the door behind her and leaving Opheda once more alone with the mess she’d made. Once she was sure Maerise was out of hearing, Opheda’s face scrunched up and, in a mocking tone, said, “‘You need to stick to the rules if you want to become a Priestess someday’. Pah!” She scoffed. “The rules are buckshit.”
She continued muttering angrily to herself as she used her magic to reorganize the desk and the papers that had scattered everywhere. Some had even made their way into her open closet on the topmost shelf. It took her about an hour, but soon there was some semblance of order to the stacks of study notes and former practice enchantment circles she’d made days or even weeks before.
Next, she went to her bathroom, grabbed a bucket, filled it with water from the sink, then grabbed a small sponge, a towel and a bar of soap and began cleaning the walls. Halfway through cleaning, she had to light a few of the firestone sconces around the room to illuminate the room. By the time she was finished, or rather by the time she managed to clean every scorch mark she could see in the ruddy glow of the firestones, the sun had vanished and the mountains outside were illuminated by the glow of the moon.
Famished after all that work, she made her way down the hall and into the common area of the first floor. The common area was separated into three distinct rooms. One was a large sitting area with couches, small tables, and large bookshelves full of all kinds of ancient books that had been enchanted to resist the ravages of time. The second room was the common dining area, where Acolytes, Priests and the High Priestess all ate their meals. The third room was where the kitchen was located.
Opheda entered the dining area to discover it was empty. Looking up at the clock, she saw it was just past nine in the evening, and the tables had long since been cleaned. Opheda made her way to the kitchen where she saw two of the kitchen staff, older Priests of Accord, busily cleaning pots and pans in the massive sink. One of them, an older buck named Athatos, saw her enter. “Late to dinner again,” he sighed, sounding a bit annoyed.
“Lost track of time,” Opheda admitted.
“Stew’s over there,” he said, pointing towards a corner with his left hoof before returning to the task of rinsing one of the larger pots out.
Opheda turned and saw a wooden bowl and a plate underneath just sitting on a corner table. She grabbed it with her magic, then slipped back into the dining area, set the stew down at the nearest table, sat, then began to eat. By now, the stew, which was carrot and potato stew, was cold, but she still ate ravenously. Using magic did tend to increase a deer’s appetite, and she had spent a few hours busily cleaning her room.
When she finished and cleaned up her place, she decided to go for a walk. Outside, the gibbous moon shone down on the land far below, the shape of the mare in the moon clearly visible on the moon’s righthoof side. The roar of the falls could be heard in the distance beyond the walls built around the edge of the stump. The stars shone brilliantly in the cool night air. A slight breeze blew through the grass which had grown from the imported soil, sending shivers down Opheda’s back. She regretted not grabbing a cloak of some kind, but was too stubborn to go on back, so instead she walked towards the center of the grassy area in front of the temple, lay on her back and looked up at the summer constellations.
Staring at the stars was something she would do as a fawn back in Apophne’s Pass, a deer village of only a hundred or so deer. It was located about fifty or sixty trotlengths up the Azure River. The town was small for a deer village, but it was one of the oldest around. It was said that after the sacking of the Mors Ruins, one of the defending generals led a small number of deer from the abandoned city up the river until they reached the sight of the future town. Her mother even claimed that their own family could trace their lineage back to Apophne’s bloodline. Then again, other nearby larger towns had similar claims of the famous deer general. Apophne had distinguished herself by being one of the only doe generals in the Deer King’s army, having been said to have bested all but one of the other generals in hoof-to-hoof combat and in magical prowess.
Opheda visually traced the summer constellations. She saw the Teapot and Teacup in the southern portion of the sky, with the small wisp of skycloud moving between the spout and the cup. To the east, the Gathering of Ancestors had just begun to rise, the large bright cluster of stars twinkling in the early nighttime air. To the west, she could see part of the Lost Crown, the three different colored stars making up the diadems blazing brightly despite the waxing moon lighting up the heavens with its silvery glow. Then there was the World’s Eye, a skycloud in the shape of an eye directly to the north. All stars in the heavens rotated around it, the bright blue star at the center acting as the iris. Its appearance over 1400 years ago marked the beginning of the common era, which almost all the world followed. It was an extreme coincidence that the skycloud had appeared on the very first of the year for the entire world. And ever since that day, the Eye had expanded, its gaze lingering on the world below.
The breeze picked up in intensity for a moment. Opheda hugged herself as best she could as another shiver ran down her back. She continued to lie there, staring at the stars as she let her mind wander. It was in moments like these where she had many of her own epiphanies about her enchantments. Then again, it was also moments like these where she could lose track of time and fall asleep.
This was one of the latter times.
Opheda was standing in a massive ruin. Of that she was absolutely certain. Looking around quickly, she saw it must have been a majestic throne room in its day, although why a throne room needed two thrones instead of one was a mystery to her. The moon above shone down through a hole in the ceiling. For a brief moment, she was afraid she was in the Mors Ruins, but quickly dismissed that as untrue since the Deer King only had one throne.
That, and the room was currently occupied by four beings who were clearly not deer.
Three of them were ponies. There were two who looked like guards standing at the entrence to the throne room, clearly frozen. The last one, however, was moving around and waving her hooves in front of the frozen guards. She was an alabaster pony with wings and a horn and was a head taller than the frozen pony guards. Like most of her kind, she had a mark on her flank. Hers was that of a sun. She had on silvery horseshoes and a golden crown on her head.
She was so engrossed in investigating the frozen guards that only Opheda saw the fourth figure materialize in a dark green mist on the dais behind her. This figure was bipedal in nature, with a long mane of hair which seemed to mirror the alabaster pony’s own mane in that it flowed in a breeze that Opheda couldn’t feel. It wore strange looking clothes, such as a pair of blue pants, a light red shirt and a black shirt with a hood over it. The latter was opened like a cloak to display strange lettering on the light red shirt. His skin was a pale pink, and his dark blue eyes were covered by a pair of thin glasses.
The bipedal being spoke. “They’re not dead, so there’s no need to worry about that. Although I was wondering when you’d be gracing my prison, Princess Celestia, Ruler of Equestria.”
Opheda looked back at the pony mare. She knew the name of Celestia from her studies. She was the Tamer of the Sun, able to raise the sun and moon with her incredible powers. She had more power in one hoof than even the most powerful deer enchanters. Opheda could practically feel the power flowing from the pony now that she knew.
Opheda watched as Celestia turned quickly to face this bipedal creature. Opheda saw the ancient princess spread her wings, then asked, “Who are you? What are you? What have you done to my guards?”
What followed was a conversation that confused Opheda. She had only heard of a Djinn in one lesson about foreign magic from Saddle Arabia. They were said to be beings of nigh omnipotence who had been enslaved to do the bidding of anydeer who made a wish of them. However, the wish would always backfire on the one who made the wish, sometimes in horrifying ways. They were malevolent and spiteful spirits. But the conversation between this Djinn and the pony princess seemed to indicate that this specific Djinn was less malevolent and more cursed to live out his days granting wishes without any say in the matter. She’d never even heard of a human, or whatever he claimed to be. She’d never even thought that a Djinn would plead for anydeer not to make a wish.
When the pony princess said, “I have no wish,” she froze in place, but the Djinn did not.
He placed the bottle he’d conjured down on one of the thrones, walked right up to the frozen form, and reached out towards her cheek. Opheda watched with curiosity as he stopped, then pulled away. There was an immense sorrow there, but one that seemed to indicate he’d cried too much and had no tears left. “Oh Celestia…you look better in person, I must say. I just hope nobody else comes by ever again. Please keep them away.”
As he began walking up the stairs towards the throne room, the world around her swirled and she was swallowed by an all-encompassing darkness…
Opheda bolted upright, gasping for breath. The air around her was colder than it had been when she fell asleep, and the sky was now an inky black instead of the deep blue it had been before, but she was drenched in sweat and panting, taking in deep gulps of air to try and calm her racing heartbeat. She could practically hear the loud thumping in her ears as she shakily stood and shook the grass and sweat off of her body.
“It happened again…” she said in fear. The dream she had was too real to be just a fiction her mind cooked up. She’d only ever had dreams, or visions, like this twice in her life, and each time she’d discovered that the events she’d witnessed had actually happened. The first time was when she’d seen a festival in one of the largest deer towns. A week later, a traveler from said town came and told of the festival with such shockingly similar details that Opheda had a hard time writing it off as a coincidence.
The second time had been when she’d actually been instrumental in saving a younger fawn’s life who had wandered off towards the woods near her village. When nodeer had believed her, she decided to go off on her own towards the small ravine where the poor fawn had fallen. It was also where she’d first manifested her talent for magic when she’d lifted the fawn out with her magic and brought him back to the town.
And now, there was this dream. If what she said was true, then somedeer had to know. She turned back to the temple and galloped towards the entrance. She rushed toward her matron’s room and began hammering at the door, panting. “Matron Maerise! Matron Maerise!” she called over and over again.
The older doe finally opened the door, looking tired and irritated at having been woken up. When she saw Opheda, her irritation turned into anger. “Opheda, what in Accord’s name are you doing here? It’s almost midnight. Did you blow something up again? Wait, what are you doing?!”
Opheda pushed Maerise into her room and shut the door behind her, wide eyed with fear. Whirling on her matron, she exclaimed, “Something terrible has happened! And no, I didn’t make anything explode!”
Maerise’s anger turned to confusion. “Okay, slow down. Just sit down for a bit.” She pointed to the bed. “You look like you need some water. I’ll be right back.”
As Maerise went to her own bathroom to grab some water from the tap, Opheda quickly sat on the bed and looked around the room. Maerise’s own room was larger than Opheda’s, with three bookcases against the wall. Other than that, it could easily have been the mirror image of her own, save for a couple of portraits on the wall. One was of a handsome buck wearing gold armor from the Golden Age. The second was of the Deep Tree itself, a vast tree of golden leaves. The latter probably was depicting the Deep Tree during autumn, where its leaves only changed colors but never fell.
Maerise came back, levitating a large glass of water over to Opheda. “Drink this, then tell me, calmly, what’s wrong,” she said in an authoritative tone.
Opheda took the glass with her own magic and, in one gulp, swallowed the entire thing. She put the glass down on an endtable next to Maerise’s bed, then took a few deep breaths. “Matron…I just had a vision.”
To her credit, Maerise didn’t just outright dismiss her, but instead walked over and sat next to her young charge. “Go on.”
In as much detail as she could remember, Opheda told her everything she’d seen after falling asleep outside. She even described the old ruin she’d seen in said vision. Maerise listened patiently to the frantic young doe. When she finished, Maerise put a tender hoof on Opheda’s back. “Opheda, my dear, are you sure you didn’t just dream this entire thing? Remember, the lesson where I mentioned the Djinn was also the same one where I mentioned Princess Celestia.”
Opheda shook her head. “This isn’t the first time this has happened,” she said frantically. “I’ve had visions like this twice before!” Without waiting to be told, she recounted the past two visions. “But this last vision feels different! It was like the Weave of Accord was being torn in two! Two beings of power like that and meeting?? We have to do something!”
Maerise put her hoof around the young Acolyte’s shoulder. “Opheda, dear, this just sounds like some kind of fever dream. You are warm, after all. Nodeer has had the ability of raw farsight without the use of the Third Eye since General Apophne herself. That art was lost hundreds of years ago.”
Opheda deflated a bit. She knew she was right, but Maerise was just casually dismissing it as a dream. “I didn’t say I have farsight! I know the difference between a dream and the visions I’ve had! This was a vision, I’m telling you!”
“Dear, you don’t have the necessary amount of magic to have visions, farsight, or anything like that,” Maerise said, then quickly added, “not yet, anyway. And besides, Apophne had to train her tail off just to be able to see five hundred trotlengths away.” She rubbed Opheda’s head gently. “I’m pretty sure it was just a very vivid dream.”
Opheda frowned. “It wasn’t! I know it wasn’t! Why won’t you believe me?!” Tears threatened to flow from her eyes.
“Sweetie-” Maerise tried to reassure the young doe, but Opheda pushed her away.
“No! Don’t you ‘Sweetie’ me! We’re in danger! I just know it! And you’re telling me it’s just a dream! IT’S NOT!” Before her matron could say anything, Opheda rushed out of her room, slamming the door behind her. She galloped down the hall, slammed and locked her own door, and jumped into her own bed.
And only then, did she allow the tears to fall.
Maerise sat on the bed, listening to the retreating hoof-falls of the Acolyte. She flinched as she heard the distant slam of the younger doe’s door. That could have gone better, she thought as she stood and grabbed the white robes that befitted her station as a Priestess of True Accord. She put them on, then left her room, heading for the stairs.
She walked up the northern flight of stairs, towards the Meditation Den. Soon, she was in front of a large set of double doors, which she opened with her magic. She was in a large domed room decorated with paintings which depicted the ancient past of their corner of Equus. In the center of the room was the Third Eye, the amber stone glowing with current use. Maerise lowered her eyes in respect as she entered. The doors closed behind her of their own accord. There was silence for a few moments before an old voice said, “Approach, Priestess Maerise.” The voice belonged to the High Priestess of Accord herself, Santhea. She was over two hundred years old, or so she claimed. Nodeer knew exactly just how old the blind white furred doe was.
Maerise approached as ordered, head lowered as it was considered bad form to look upon the eyes of the blind High Priestess without expressly being given permission. She walked around the raised platform which held the stone and the cushions where other Priests would sit whenever they meditated on the Weave of Accord. When she was in front of the raised cushions where the High Priestess sat, Santhea spoke again. “Look up at me.”
She was surprised to hear this, but obeyed. And was shocked to see Santhea’s eyes matching the color of the Third Eye. She was so shocked that she was temporarily unable to speak. That was, until Santhea’s laughter echoed through the Den. “I’ve been told it’s a disturbing sight, but that it the price you pay when you have stared into the Weave as often as I have. But I can sense that there is something that troubles you. Tell me your worries, for they grow with each passing moment.”
Maerise sighed, then took a deep breath. “My young charge came to me just a few minutes ago and told me about a dream she had.”
Santhea raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And why is this of such concern to you that you would come to me?”
Maerise frowned. “She…she believes it was more than a dream. She thinks it was a vision she had.”
“I see. And what was this dream about?” As Maerise repeated the events of the dream, Santhea’s expression seemed to darken slightly. When Maerise was finished, Santhea was full on frowning. “I see…and what did you tell her afterwards?”
“That it was just a dream,” Maerise said. “High Priestess, she can barely keep up in her enchantment classes. There’s no way she can possess the skills of raw farsight. She’s only barely made it to adulthood.”
“And why bring this to my attention?” Santhea asked coolly.
Maerise’s lip twitched. “I…I suppose I was plagued with some doubt, my matron,” she said. “There was a portion of me that thought, ‘What if she is indeed telling the truth?’”
Santhea smiled warmly down at Maerise. “You were correct to tell her the truth,” she said. “Indeed, the Weave of Accord would not have it any other way. Honesty is one of the highest of priorities. I know about your young Opheda and her desires to be more than she is. She pushes herself to be better, but she is impulsive. Impatient. She needs a guiding hoof to tame that temper of hers, too.”
Maerise cocked a small half smile. “Forgive me, matron. I was impulsive, too.”
“Think nothing of it,” Santhea said. “You were concerned for your young charge and wanted to make her feel better with some good news. Unfortunately, you are correct. It was a dream. But perhaps you could let her take a few days off from her studies? Give her a week to go home and visit her family. Let her cool off and reflect on what you’ve said.”
Maerise’s smile became a full one. “Yeah…I think she’d like that. Thank you, matron. I’m sorry for disturbing you at this late hour.”
“Oh do not fret, my dear. I was already awake,” Santhea said with a wave of her hoof and a small smile of her own. “Now, go back to bed. You have a class in the morning, do you not?”
Maerise chuckled and nodded. “Yeah, I do. Thank you once again for listening to me.”
Maerise bowed and backed out of the room, the doors opening as she approached. She felt relieved. She hated to see Opheda looking so distraught. She decided to talk to her young charge in the morning. She returned to her room, removed her robes, and climbed back into bed. She fell asleep mere minutes later.
Right after the doors to the Meditation Den closed, Santhea’s smile instantly faded. She looked back down directly at the Third Eye. The Deep Tree pollen trapped within it began to glow, and the interior turned into a hidden mist. It darkened, then a scene began to form within it. Santhea might have been blind to the normal world, but she was still able to see the world within the Third Eye. The scene cleared, showing a ruined castle from above half a world away. The scene shifted as she commanded her sight to move closer.
Passing through solid rock, she soon found herself in an ancient and ruined throne room. The moon above shone down into the old ruins. She looked around the room carefully, looking through every nook and cranny of the room.
That’s when she saw the recent hoofprints.
Unlike normal hoofprints, these radiated power on par with that of a deity. Not even her own power could come close to it. Recalling the details of the young Acolyte’s dream, she turned the view towards the throne…
Only to scream in pain as the view turned to a swirling dark green mist of pure power. Had she not quickly pulled her sight out of the throne room, it was likely that she could have died.
Santhea took a few moments to recover herself, panting heavily and rubbing her head with her hooves. “That power…” she gasped out after a while, the pain in her temples receding. She sat back up and pulled her sight back. “…it can’t be one of those cursed, wicked creatures.”
For the first time in a long while, Santhrea felt true fear. The Djinn were evil beings who caused nothing but pain and destruction. If this power was truly that of a Djinn, then she needed to keep a closer eye on the ruin.
The ruin located in Equestria.
June 3, 1462 of the Common Age
“Pretty mare, buy a pot! No finer pot in brass or silver!”
“Sugar dates! Sugar dates and figs! Sugar dates and pistachios!”
“Would the mare like a necklace? A pretty necklace for a pretty mare.”
Marecca. The center of Saddle Arabian commerce and the location of the Sultanate. Located east of the Dragon Lands at the edge of the Sands of Time, the desert nation capital was bustling underneath the scorching near summer sun. It was a circular city, with the Royal Palace sitting directly at the center of everything and tall stone towers and wall surrounding the city, protecting it from the sandstorms that blew in frequently. Its towers loomed even over the nearby living district for the rich and nobles.
It was only around eight in the morning, but Marecca’s bazar was already bustling with business. Carts full of products had already been set up on either side of the Commerce District’s many small side streets, and customers were already busy haggling with vendors over the prices of products.
“Fresh flowers! We pluck ‘em, you buy em! Only seventeen reinyal a bundle!”
“Thirty reinyal for a lamp?! That’s ridiculous!”
Among the crowd of Saddle Arabian unicorns, pegasi and earth ponies, an unassuming hooded and cloaked Saddle Arabian unicorn mare walked down one of the busier side streets. The hood hid her features and the brown saddlebag she wore hid her cutie mark, but she wouldn’t have stood out in a crowd anyway. She had a beige coat, a white mane tied down in box braids, and a tail hanging loosely behind her. Her dark green eyes looked through the crowds and vendors. She was searching for a specific pony.
After a few minutes of searching, and looking over the, to put it bluntly, offensive excuse for goods that were for sale, she found the cart she’d been told to look for. Only her informant had been mistaken about it being a cart.
It was a full-blown store.
She stared at the sign above the entrance with a frown. In big, bold Saddle Arabic, the words Abdul’s Curios were emblazoned in well painted Arabic cursive. As she entered, the allowed the cool air to wash over her and she removed her hood, letting her mane loose. After she finished, she looked around the store and was witness to, yet again, more evidence of the decadence of the city. Barrels full of fruits and oats of different kinds filled the interior as did a number of gems, which were marketed as freshly dug up from the outer reaches of the desert. This Abdul even had a wall full of clothes, sandals, scimitars, smaller blades and armor which was marketed as being ‘Fit for the Sultan himself’.
The proprietor himself, a portly earth pony Saddle Arabian with dark blue fur, a brown mustache and goatee, a brown tail and a mane hidden underneath a white turban, was busy with two other customers, two pegasi who were looking at his selection of jewelry at the front counter. Judging from the bits the unicorn mare overheard, the young couple were apparently looking for some engagement earrings. The stallion behind the counter, presumably Abdul, was trying to get the two to buy more than they wanted. Typical, the unicorn thought as she browsed the store’s wares.
After about ten or so minutes, two very satisfied pegasi customers walked out not only with earrings, but with a pair of matching necklaces as well. It wasn’t long before Abdul was in front of her, giving her the same shit eating grin that was typical of his ilk. “Hello there! Welcome to Abdul’s Curios! Is there anything I can help you find today?”
The unicorn looked at Abdul more closely. At first glance, the larger pony didn’t look like he brokered information, but she’d learned the hard way many years ago that looks could be deceiving. “I was told by a very reliable source that you’re the pony to go to for information on certain topics. He told me to tell you ‘The Sands of Time must part and bare the teeth of the sand dragon’.”
Abdul’s eyes widened a bit, then he grinned. “I see Samir’s brought me a new customer. I’ll have to get him some mint tea later. Now then, I take it he informed you of my prices?”
The unicorn lifted a large money purse full of reinyal and floated them over to the counter. She released it and it landed with a heavy thud and the jingling of coins. She used her magic to open it, revealing a treasure trove of gold coins. Abdul’s eyes practically shone as he saw the amount of gold pieces within. The unicorn saw the stallion smirk as she closed the purse and brought it back over to her. “You don’t get the money until I get the information, is that understood?”
“Ah, see that’s where you’re mistaken, my pretty little mare,” Abdul said. “I operate with a strict upfront payment policy. You pay before I say anything.”
She growled in frustration, but sighed and put the purse back down. “All this is yours if you give me the honest truth to what I’m about to ask, got it?”
He looked over the money once more, then turned back to her. “I believe we can do business, miss…?”
“My name is immaterial,” she said with a glare. “All I need is information from you.”
“Ah, an anonymous client,” he said. “I can appreciate that. Now, how can I help you? What can I get you?”
“I need information on a certain artifact.”
“Information I have, but it all depends on what kind of artifact you seek.” Abdul grinned, and the unicorn could tell that this wasn’t going to be as easy as she’d hoped. “I know the tales and supposed locations of many different relics from all over the world. The rarer the artifact, the more the price I ask.”
“I was told you had information in regards to the location of a very important relic. One those weak and soulless griffons have.”
Abdul’s greedy grin grew wider. “Ah yes, I know the one you’re talking about. Well, that one is definitely one of the rarer artifacts. I know a few tales about it, but do you have ten thousand, five hundred reinyal?”
The unicorn glared at Abdul. “You would charge such an exuberant amount for information on an idol from a foreign land?”
Abdul put his hoof over his chest. “You wound me, my dear. That idol is extremely dangerous if placed in the wrong hooves, claws or any appendages belonging to anypony nefarious. It is my duty to protect the world, after all.”
The unicorn scoffed. She hardly believed he was that altruistic, and instead was in it for the coin. “The money is all in there,” she smoothly lied.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Abdul said, swiftly lifting the bag of reinyal off the counter before the unicorn could say or do anything. He held it aloft, moving it up and down as if testing its weight before he tossed it back down. “You’re not a very good liar, miss. There’s only about seven thousand in the bag. Now I could tell you about the location of the Memory Stone from Equestria for that price and a number of other more common relics that other ponies have asked about, but you’re going to have to come back with the right amount of money for information on that relic.”
For the first time since she arrived in this decadent city and age, she smiled. And kept on smiling as her horn began glowing. The magic seeping from it began to invade Abdul’s brain through his eyes, nose, ears and mouth. Before he knew it, the dark red mist filled his entire being. His eyes glazed over and he stood there, completely still. She took the purse back with her magic, sliding it back into her saddlebag. “I was hoping for your willing cooperation, which is more than what you deserve in the presence of a superior being like myself. But you just had to make things difficult, didn’t you? Ah well, your complete and utter obedience to me will suffice for the time being.”
“Yes…mistress…” he said in a blank tone.
“Very good,” she grinned. “Now…that pathetic stallion…Samir, was it? Well, whatever his name was, he told me you had information on the Idol of Boreas. You will give me the information willingly, is that understood?”
“Yes mistress,” he said.
“Very good, little colt. Now, I need to know where it is.”
He nodded, then in the same monotone voice he’d been using ever since she’d cast the mind breaking spell, he relayed the tale of the idol and how Arimaspi stole it during the reign of King Guto, the last king of Griffonstone. Ever since, the kingdom had fallen into disrepair. When he reached that part, she raised a hoof. “I don’t care about that kingdom’s fate. What happened to this Arimaspi?”
“He fell into the Abyssmal Abyss with the treasure,” Abdul said. “Nopony knows where the idol is. He could have survived and limped back to his territory in southern Equestria, or he could have perished, impaled on the sharp rocks below.”
The unicorn mare frowned. This was not the news she wanted to hear today, but it was a place to start. She grabbed a nearby map from its display case and put it in her saddlebag. Putting her hood back up, she grinned. “You will remember nothing about my visit, but you will respond to my summons whenever I so desire. Is that understood?” And with that, she cast another spell, one she’d learned many years ago from the changelings. A spell which established a telepathic link of control between her and those which she cast the spell on.
The stallion’s eyes flashed green, then went back to their normal brown. “Yes, mistress.”
She backed out, then released her hold on his mind. At least for the moment. She turned and made herself lost in the crowd. “Griffonstone next, then,” she muttered to herself darkly, grinning as she did so.
June 20, 1462 of the Common Age/Year 999 After Nightmare Moon
The sun shone through the massive wall sized window overlooking the great city of Canterlot below the palace of Princess Celestia. The room it shone into was a two storied suite, the top level filled with an entire shelf of books, a massive hourglass which kept the time by magically rotating each hour on the hour, and a desk where its occupant, a small purple unicorn, would do the majority of her studying. The lower level consisted of her bed, the bed of her baby dragon assistant, and a set of blue double doors which led to a balcony overlooking the city below.
Currently, said unicorn was sitting at her desk, looking over one of the older books she’d been allowed access to from Canterlot Library’s forbidden section, one of the few she had found about Saddle Arabia. Ever since her mentor had given her the assignment to learn all about the Djinn as possible, she’d thrown herself deep into her research. She’d gone to the library itself and researched everything she could find on the eastern pony nation, but most of it hadn’t been too relevant to her assignment.
That didn’t mean anything to Twilight Sparkle, personal protegee to the ruler of all Equestria. Any knowledge learned was knowledge well earned, as far as she was concerned. However, she still didn’t lose sight of the assignment she’d been given.
She’d learned all she could from the normal library over the course of three days. When she found nothing, she had Spike, her dragon assistant, send the princess a letter saying that she had not yet found an answer in any book about Saddle Arabia, mythical beasts, or anything she felt could give any relevant information. She was surprised with the quick response from her mentor, as it arrived only a minute later. In it, Celestia told her and Spike to meet her at the Canterlot Library. There, she’d shown Twilight the motherload of all treasure troves for her: the Restricted Section of the library, full of books…all unread. There was an old-styled cataloguing apparatus that had fallen into disrepair over the course of years of lack of use. Celestia had to calm the purple unicorn down after the latter began panting heavily at the thought of being able to sift through the unseen knowledge.
The one rule that Celestia had given her was that she was only allowed to take ten books at a time, and only when she was there. Twilight had agreed, then grabbed the first ten books she could find about Saddle Arabia and mythical beasts.
Twilight had spent the next few days looking over everything in the books from cover to cover, not leaving one word unread. Spike had tried to help, but a lot of the wording of the older books was too antiquated for his poor mind to properly grasp, so Twilight let him go spend time with Moondancer and others that she’d known in Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns. With him out of her mane, her studies could go on in peace and quiet.
Days turned into a week, and she found nothing. She requested some more books from the restricted section and Celestia had been more than willing to accommodate her.
It was among thee next ten books where she found a possible answer to her assignment. In an extremely old book, one that couldn’t even be trusted in her own magic, she found a story regarding the myth of the freeing of a Djinn. In it, two Saddle Arabian merchants found an ancient monastery belonging to a cult of sand dragon worshippers. The two sought shelter from a massive sandstorm that was fast approaching, but as time passed the sandstorm only grew worse and worse. Their food rations began to diminish as days passed, and finally their desire to escape grew into a powerful wish. One which summoned the Djinn chained to the cult.
Once the Djinn was summoned, they both appeared in the Djinn’s World, the colloquial name of the timeless dimension where all Djinn were chained. The first traveler, Amir, wished to be back home, but the second, his brother Alastair, did the unexpected and asked the Djinn what he would wish for. Appearing surprised by the question, the Djinn said that he would wish for his freedom. Before Amir could say anything, Alastair spoke that very wish aloud.
And with that, the trap was set. As it turned out, in order to permanently free a Djinn, one only had to wish for it. However, this Djinn had been summoned thanks to the magic of the newer spell, the one which allowed for the Djinn to twist the wish. And the wish was definitely twisted. Both were.
Amir was indeed transported back to his small hometown, but he immediately lost his sight. As for Alastair, the Djinn had, before granting the wishes, revealed that in order to free a Djinn, another had to take his place and assume all his powers. Amir spent the rest of his life and wealth sending expedition after expedition back into that same desert to try and find the lost monastery, but as time went on, his ranting and raving began to be largely ignored as the words of a crazy old blind man lost in the grief of losing his brother. He died miserable and without answers.
Not one to be deterred, she continued researching, and it was on June 20th when she found another answer.
“What are the Melody Gems?” she wondered as she read over an old pony’s tale by the same name. As she kept reading, she learned that they were six gems which espoused the Saddle Arabian ideas of the Melody of the World, which seemed to be viewed in much the same way as Harmony was in Equestria. The location of the gems had been lost to time, but according to the old tale, the Melody Gems could theoretically be used to free a Djinn, but that solution would only ever be a temporary fix, since it would only allow up to five years of freedom for said Djinn. After the time elapsed, the Djinn would be forced back into his timeless prison, and the Gems would no longer work to be able to free the mythical creature.
Despite Twilight not believing it was worth mentioning, she decided at the last minute to include it as an afterthought to her finished report to the Princess. Little did she know this late inclusion would change the fate of a single individual…
July 8, 1462 of the Common Age
The hallways of the old Castle of the Two Sisters, or at least the copy in which the former human turned immortal Djinn was imprisoned, was silent. No sound could be heard anywhere, not the breath of wind, the calling of a night bird, or even the settling of the castle on its ancient foundations.
The only noises that could be heard throughout Damian Price’s prison were those made by Damian himself as he floated through the dark and dismal hallways for the millionth time. He hummed an old tune from his old life, the one he now could remember with perfect clarity. Due to the past thousand years living in perpetual darkness, his eyes had slowly begun to adjust to see better in the dark. If anyone were to see his eyes, they would reflect light much like those of an Abyssian.
With each note he hit, soundwaves reverberated through the castle and disturbed the perpetually floating dust particle before it faded away, the dust moving back to its proper place.
In a way, it reminded Damian of the last Peter Capaldi episode of Doctor Who, where the snow froze in place and would move back to its proper place in time after being displaced.
The Djinn floated down one of the hallways that led to the only room he was physically unable to enter: one which he saw a large stone pedestal with five spherical stones, each bearing a different geometric shape. He knew precisely what they were, of course. He didn’t need the knowledge of the ages which had been slowly filtering into his mind ever since he’d arrived in Equestria all those hundreds of years ago to know what they were.
He’d seen them before, after all.
He reached the double doors which housed the Elements of Harmony in their current state, and already he could feel himself being pushed back, as if by some kind of invisible hand was against him. Over the years, he’d built up enough stamina to be able to make three steps into the room without getting a massive headache, but that was the apparent limit of his abilities. Pushing the doors open, he took one, then two, then three steps in before stopping and staring at the brand new view of the elements.
“At least it wasn’t raining this time around,” he muttered to himself, shuddering at one time between wishes where he’d been stuck in a frozen rainstorm, constantly getting wet and drying off immediately afterwards as he walked or floated through the raindrops frozen in time. He stood and walked around the room, taking in the entirety of the stone tree in front of him. Above, the gibbous moon hung frozen in the night sky. He took a mental note that the planetary nebula in the northern sky had grown once again in comparison to the last time he’d seen it.
He noted as well that there were a few new cracks in the foundation below him, and he saw a family of frozen mice running up the stone tree which housed the Elements. He chuckled at the sight. Even if they were simply echoes of reality, it was still nice to see a new face.
He held up his hand, and a bottle of Coca Cola, the Mexican variety, appeared in his hand in a cloud of his signature Djinn magic. He twisted the cap off, hearing the hiss of escaping carbonation. Tossing the cap aside, which vanished in his dark green misty magic, he drank the entire bottle in one go before tossing it aside. It shattered on the ground nearby, and the shards vanished into dark green and black mist as well.
There weren’t many positives about his imprisonment as Equestria’s boogeyman, but the fact that he could summon any food he had memory of was definitely one of them. As he left the room which housed the elements, he summoned a piece of his tenth birthday cake, the one he thoroughly had enjoyed as it had been a Neapolitan ice cream cake. He dug in ravenously, just as he had on that day 1028 years ago back on Earth. Once he finished, he was back in his room, and tossed aside the paper place and white plastic fork, both of which vanished into that same dark green and black mist.
His room, of course, was one of the Royal Sister’s old bedrooms, since it was hermetically sealed up with some kind of magic. There was hardly any dust in the room, and the books here only looked like they’d aged a few years. He lay on the bed, grabbing one of his all-time favorite stories in this personal library: The Misadventures of Vertigo the Pegasus. A ball of mist appeared over his finger and materialized into a floating lightbulb, which he used to read the first chapter for the 62,923rd time. He could practically recite the entire book by now, but he took the time to read the words aloud.
It staved off the boredom and alleviated the fact that he was physically unable to sleep in this timeless dungeon of his.
Time passed. He wasn’t quite sure how much time, since any sense he had of time seemed to be lost whenever he read a book aloud. He thoroughly enjoyed the experience of being lost in a book, even if he’d read everything in the castle, including the diary of the two sisters, another one of his personal favorites.
Damian finally made it the halfway mark in the book when he decided to stop. He put the book down on the bed beside him and got up just as the book floated back to its spot on the bookshelf. He got up, floated out through the sealed door, and continued moving up and up towards the top of his prison, which happened to be an invisible dome only a few meters away from the tallest tower, or the tallest former tower since it had collapsed 542 years ago or somewhere thereabouts. He looked up at the vast canopy of stars above him, looking for familiar constellations above. He saw the Tea Set above him, and that was enough to tell him it was sometime in the summer now. He wondered if the Summer Sun Celebration had happened already or if it had yet to come.
Was it the time of Nightmare Moon’s return yet? Or was that a few more years down the line. The only timepiece he had was a pocket watch modeled after the Doctor’s fob from the third season, and that had immediately stopped working the moment he came to Equestria.
He waved his hand, and immediately the air around him was filled with the sound of nature. A sound he’d heard on one of those ambiance videos on YouTube all those years ago. It was one he’d listened to every night for the past couple of years to help him sleep. Now he simply used it to bring some semblance of life abck into the world around him. A way to cope.
As he lay in the air and listened to the fake sounds of nature, a slow sigh escaped his lips and he closed his eyes. He knew sleep wouldn’t catch him but he still did rest whenever he could and let his thoughts wander for the millionth time. He thought back to the time when he’d spent a few days or weeks memorizing an entire Equestrian play and performed it for himself in the throne room. He remembered the time when he’d used his powers to create the largest Big Mac burger he could within the confines of his prison, and then eating as much of it as he could before he dismissed it with a wave. He remembered when he used his magic to create a representation of his home’s solar system, complete with a bright yellow sun and floating planets.
Then his thoughts turned to his interaction with Celestia. For the short time she’d been in his world, he had someone to talk to, not someone who just wanted a wish granted. He knew what her wish would have been, of course. She wanted her sister back. However, he also knew that if he granted that wish, she would regress to foalhood and forget everything, leaving Luna to fend for herself.
For the briefest of instants, however, she saw concern for his wellbeing in her eyes. A concern he hadn’t seen in any of those who found him ever. And he wondered for another brief instant, just a briefest of briefest of moments, if there was another way to be freed from the eternal hell he’d been suffering through instead of being wished free only to have the one who wished it take their place.
“Yeah…right.” He scoffed, opened his eyes, dismissed the sound around him altogether, then headed back down to his room. Those books wouldn’t read themselves, after all.
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Pretty impressive the guy hasn't gone fruitloops batshit crazy after a thousand years in near-total isolation.
Though I suppose whatever magic he now possesses averts ennui-induced madness? Humans really aren't made to endure a millennium of imprisonment and loneliness.
I see what you did there...and I approve of it greatly.
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As serious as I wanna make this story I had to include it.
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I’ll touch more on that later probably.
Love how fast the sequel came out! Hope to see more soon
It's only the beginning, and already there are many moving parts. Celestia meeting Damien was a Pivotal Moment.
And thus it begins.
eeeEEEEEEEHHHHHHH!!! This Is Great! I hope you release more soon! … possible in the next few hours…. Sorry and have a good day!
great chapter
a prequel is a sequel that takes place before the original series chronologically
I'm looking forward to this. Whilst it shouldn't be common I hope that you don't completely avoid using the Djinns power.
It would be really interesting if after several chapters of avoiding it, only to have someone desperate enough to make a posh and handle the curse forever (and Damians inability to avoid granting it, thus having to deal with the guilt of inflicting it.) I don't know... They are about to be eaten by a Chimera and Fluttershy wishes it away harmlessly, and is seemingly unhurt only to then discover she has lost her ability to hear animals. Less of a cautionary tale about how magic comes with a price and more of a willing sacrifice.
It also raises 'the question, what happens if someone makes a wish on someone's behalf? Who bears the curse or pays the Price if Rainbow wishes Scooterloo Could fly? Is the curse shared it there are multiple benefactors? Can someone say "I wish we were all safe back home!" Would they be the only one transported the only one to pay the price?
Could the magic of Friendship help hear the weight of a curse, I wonder?
It is a all very interesting. I look forward to the outcome.
I would also highly recommend you avoid Discord if possible. The two having abilities to warp reality and pluck whatever they want out of thin air might be a bit stale after a while. Unless t turns out to run on a particularly malicious brand of Chaos Magic. Sort of undermines the whole phenomenal cosmic powers at high cost, if there is being close by that avoids such things?
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the curse could be vindictive/petty, even if Scoots wish it herself. She'll either lose her parents for real or watch her sister figure loses her ability. The consequences of wishes can vary.. like say "I wish to be rich" your mom died and you got paid the insurance.
Ahh, the nostalgia. Thank you for that.
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Fresh fish! We catch em, you buy em!
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I'm curious. What would happen if someone wished for someone else to be rich? Or if Rainbow or one of the CMC were to wish for Scoots to have wings without Scoots knowledge or consent? Would Scoots be the one to receive the curse as well? Or would Rainbow experience the effects of the curse? Or both?
Does intent play a role? Could Celestia for example, wish for something altruistically such as "I wish Luna was happy", and knowingly accept the penalty it comes with, seeing it as a worthwhile price for the wish? Or would something horrific befall Luna as well, even though they weren't the one to make the wish? Could someone only Wish a Djinn free if they are unaware or would be hurt by taking a Djinn's place?
Say for example, Celestia Wishes Damien free of the Curse, (suspecting she will similarly be bound to take his place, as per the apparent rules of the Djinn and reasoning that she's okay with such a price, for whatever reason. Perhaps she's ready to retire, and leave Twilight to rule.) However, because she's okay with taking the Djinn's place, she instead accidentally and unknowingly binds Twilight to take the place of a Djinn because that is what would hurt her most in that moment? As it costs her her student?
If the wish can affect/curse someone only tangentially related to the Wish, could someone weaponise the wish?
Take for example, Queen Chrysalis. For the sake of argument, assume she knew enough about Djinn Lore to know it would be a terrible idea to risk making a wish themselves, or instead wished "I wish that Celestia has a long and fulfilling life." Knowing (Or at least suspecting) the wish would do something like turn Celestia to stone so she lives forever in confinement, and dodge the curse entirely because the recipient of the "Blessing" is Celestia? Or (If its only the wishmaker who is affected by the curse) could she order one of her minions to make a wish on her behalf?
Could someone make a wish on behalf of a group (For example, one of the Mane Six wishes that all of the Mane Six are safe from harm from a particular villain) Knowing that she would be cursed and/or punished for her wish, but reasoning that she's happy to have it twisted on her, so long as her friends get the full benefit of the wish? Or would they all experience some variation of the Wishes Curse, even though they didn't make the wish themselves? Alternatively, could she order a Drone to make a wish on her behalf ("I wish my Queen was Ruler of Equestria!") sacrificing the Drone, but benefiting from the WIsh anyway? Or would whether you can affect someone else by a curse be determined by your intent? Ie, if you are trying to land someone else in the Curse's splash zone, it will always affect only you - and if you are trying to take the curse for someone, they'll always be affected, regardless of what you intend. You'll always experience the most negative outcome?
Sorry if that';s convoluted. I'm probably the last person who should be trusted with a Djinn, because I'm the kind of person who'd try to circumvent the Curse somehow, and end up royally rogered by the attempt.
That's a pretty name.
Disney immediately prepares the lawsuit....
"I wish that Djinn were incapable of actually existing,"
And so, Alondro breaks the curse with his immense and indomitable intellect.
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They technically exist in a parallel existence, so they didn't really exist already.
"Someone already made that wish years ago. It's why I can't travel freely in the real world."