I set my course. I was afraid—yes—but deep inside, I felt a hidden joy. Finally, I had defended myself. Finally, I had said no to oppression. This was perhaps the first time I had ever left the village. I ran for a long time without looking back until I was sure that no one was following me. I was exhausted from running. The time had reached the afternoon, and I needed to find food and water before sunset. Amid the distant hills, I found a shady place full of trees. I said to myself, "Here, I'll stay here to protect myself from the scorching sun. It will be hard for anyone to find me in this place." I decided to rest there, so I lay down under a tree, and exhaustion overtook me. I fell asleep and did not wake up until darkness had fallen. I had missed the time for breaking my fast! I was starving and thirsty. What was I to do now? The place was completely deserted, and there was no one to offer me even a sip of water. I couldn't stay here—I had to search for something to sustain myself. I walked for a long time between hills and heights until I reached a valley, nestled between two mountains. The valley was completely dry, as drought had struck everywhere during that time. I turned left and right, hoping to spot the lights of a nearby village, but there was nothing—only darkness and the hooting of owls to keep me company. Suddenly, I heard a moaning sound—someone was in pain! It was frightening. Who would be suffering in this desolate place? And why? Was it a human or an animal? I wanted to leave, walking like a lost soul, when suddenly a man appeared before me. He leaned on a long staff and walked with a limp. He was wearing a brown robe and a white turban. I froze in place, staring at him. He said, "You hear someone groaning in pain and just leave without trying to help? What is this? Do you not have any sense of compassion?" I stammered, trying to reply. "I beg your pardon, sir. I didn’t realize. I didn’t know you were here." He stepped closer, still leaning on his staff, and said, "I forgive you, my boy." I asked, puzzled, "You forgive me? Why?" He responded, "You look exhausted. Are you an outcast?" I told him, "No, I am a fugitive." The old man turned toward me and examined me with a look I couldn't decipher. Then he said, "I wanted you to help me, but it seems you are the one who needs help." I was still bewildered when I hastily replied, "Just tell me how I can help you. I’ll do my best!" The old man looked up at the mountain and remained silent for a moment before saying, "What I need you for is difficult, but what you need me for is even harder." Then he lifted his staff and pointed, saying, "But first, look there, behind that pile of stones. You’ll find dates and a waterskin. You probably haven't eaten anything since yesterday." As soon as I heard his words, I rushed to where he had pointed. Indeed, I found water and dates. I ate until I was full and drank until my thirst was quenched. I turned around, wanting to thank the man, but he was gone! I had no idea where he had vanished. "Thank God," I thought. "He didn’t tell me how I was supposed to help him. So now, I can go my own way." But... where was I to go? Darkness consumed the landscape, and the surrounding hills and mountains boxed me in. I climbed a nearby hill and decided to call out to the old man in case he could guide me on which way to go. I started shouting, "Old man! Old man! Where are you?" No answer—only the echo of my voice and the cawing of a black crow flying nearby. I called out again, a third time, and at that moment, I heard a voice behind me say, "Are you looking for me, my boy?" Terror gripped me. I asked myself, "Where did this old man come from?" He looked at me for a long moment, then said, "I wanted to leave you alone so you could eat in peace." I said gratefully, "May God bless you, sir. You fed and gave me water. Now, I am at your service. Tell me how I can help you. If you live nearby, I am willing to work for you in exchange for a piece of bread and a sip of water." The old man smiled faintly and asked, "Do you have no place to go?" With sadness in my voice, I replied, "No, I don’t." He responded with certainty, "Yes, you do. You can return to the village—to your family and your tribe." I answered sorrowfully, "What family? What tribe?" I did not want to reveal my story to him, fearing that he might betray me and inform those who were searching for me. Then he asked, "What is your name?" I told him, "Abdul Aziz. And you, sir?" He replied, "Call me Haj if you wish. Listen carefully, Abdul Aziz. You can work with me—one job only—but it will make you rich for the rest of your life." I stared at him in astonishment, thinking to myself, "He must be mocking me!" Then, leaning on his staff, he added, "But before that, what is your story?" Trying to evade the question, I said, "Some problems forced me to leave the village." The old man chuckled and then said, "I already know everything that happened, but I wanted to hear it from you. Rest assured, no harm will come to you from me. On the contrary, I will help you, and you will help me as well." I sensed his sincerity and decided to tell him my full story. I told him that I was lost, wandering aimlessly, not knowing where my feet would take me. The old man took a few steps and said, "Everyone in the village is looking for you

My name is Abdul Aziz. In my youth, I lived in my parents' house in one of the villages. We were ten siblings, and I was the youngest. Because of that, they assigned me the most menial tasks and never stopped exploiting me for their needs. This did not seem to bother my parents. At times, I felt as if I were not their child at all—just a stranger among them, meant only to serve. I could sense the coldness and harshness from both my parents and my siblings, but I never understood why.

my father was married to two women. The first—may God have mercy on her—passed away, leaving my mother, who raised my siblings and the children of her co-wife. Though she was my mother, I never felt her affection as I saw her showing it to others. It was truly puzzling. In our village, there was a man they called the judge. He was the one who resolved disputes and settled conflicts among the people, but he was not just. He was likely biased toward the village elders at the expense of the weak, so oppression was widespread, and the tyranny of the powerful prevailed. As the years passed, all my brothers got married, leaving me alone with my parents. With the oppression and suppression I endured, I became introverted, unable to defend myself or express my emotions. People began labeling me as possessed or bewitched. Even my parents believed this talk. Though we had all grown up, my brothers continued treating me with the same contempt. The only person who spoke to me and treated me like a human being with worth was an elderly man named Al-Subeiti. He must have been around sixty, but he appeared in good health, with a thick beard and piercing eyes that intimidated everyone. He was not from the village and was an outcast, unloved by anyone—just like me. He always tried to defend me whenever he saw someone mistreating me. His house was on the outskirts of the village, and I often visited him, which made him happy. Even when he heard me stammer while speaking, he never laughed or mocked me like others did. Everyone in the village was angry whenever they found out that I visited Al-Subeiti. They hurled insults at both of us, even though he was a peaceful man who spoke to no one and kept to himself. He lived in a small house built atop an old wheat storage. The villagers avoided and feared him. Rumors about him spread. Some whispered that he was a fugitive criminal hiding from justice. But he was merely a mysterious man who lived alone and took care of himself. Strange Happenings in the Village In our village, we often heard loud screams at night. Yet, whenever we went out, we found no source for them. There were strange sounds and terrifying occurrences. If anyone dared to venture out at night, they might see figures of bizarre appearance walking nearby or small creatures darting here and there. Some villagers even claimed to have heard the sounds of children playing and laughing near their homes, but upon stepping outside, they found no one! Many villagers were convinced that the village was haunted by ghouls. Some whispered that Al-Subeiti had a hand in these strange events. Al-Subeiti’s Advice I spent a lot of time with Al-Subeiti and learned many things about him. He lived by hunting and could spend days in the forest. However, once a year, during the month of Ramadan, he would travel. He never told me his destination. What was strange, though, was that despite his house being locked and empty during his absence, some villagers claimed they heard noises coming from inside, making them believe it was haunted by jinn. Two days before Ramadan, I passed by Al-Subeiti’s house and greeted him from afar. He gestured for me to come over. I sat with him near his house. Despite being the closest person to him, he had never invited me inside. We always sat outside. That day, he told me: — "I was never blessed with children, but I cherish you as if you were my son. It pains me to see you humiliated by everyone, even those closest to you." I asked him: — "What can I do? I have no power to change anything!" He responded firmly: — "You have more power than you think! Try saying ‘No’ to anyone who wrongs you. Don’t let injustice go unchallenged. The people in this village only oppress the weak—so stop being one of them. You must rely on yourself. How long do you expect me to defend you? Time is running out, and what lies ahead will require the heart of a lion!" I asked anxiously: — "What do you mean? What awaits me?" He stood up and said: — "I will tell you later. For now, go and do as I told you. I must prepare to leave—I have a long journey ahead of me tonight." The First Confrontation Ramadan arrived, and my father woke me by kicking me with his foot: — "Get up, you fool! Will you spend your whole day sleeping? Get out and find work!" Then, he showered me with insults for no reason. I was used to such cruelty from him and my mother, who had never shown me kindness. I remembered Al-Subeiti’s words, but I hadn’t acted on them yet. I was still that insignificant outcast in the village. But… for how much longer? I went to the market, lost in thought. Someone suddenly bumped into me. I turned to see the judge’s son, who sneered at me: — "Watch where you’re going, you mule!" I gestured apologetically, even though he was the one who shoved me, causing me to fall. He looked at me with disdain and said: — "You lowly wretch, don’t you make way for your superiors?" Then, he laughed and walked away. Everyone watched, but no one intervened. At that moment, something inside me snapped. I suddenly stood up and shouted: — "No!" He turned to me in surprise, then mocked me: — "What did you say, you lunatic?" I replied angrily: — "You pushed me and knocked me down! You’re the one at fault, not me!" He laughed again and moved to strike me. But in that instant, I raised my hand and slapped him—so hard that the sound echoed through the market! Chaos erupted. People screamed: — "The possessed one hit the judge’s son! The possessed one hit the judge’s son!" Everyone rushed to defend the judge’s son, throwing stones at me! Yet, when he attacked me, they had done nothing. I took advantage of the commotion and ran toward Al-Subeiti’s house, banging on the door desperately—but no one answered. He was gone! The villagers were getting closer, searching for me. I had no choice but to flee the village… The Journey Begins I ran without looking back until I was sure no one was chasing me. I was exhausted, hungry, and thirsty. Between the hills, I found a shady spot and collapsed, drifting into sleep. When I woke up, night had fallen, and hunger gnawed at me. I got up and walked for hours until I reached a dry valley between two mountains. Then, I heard groaning—someone was in pain! Who could it be in this desolate place? I approached cautiously, but suddenly, a man leaning on a long staff emerged before me. — "What’s your story?" he asked. I hesitated, trying to avoid answering: — "Some troubles forced me to leave my village…" The old man laughed and said: — "I already know everything that happened, but I wanted to hear it from you. Rest assured, I mean you no harm. In fact, I will help you—and you will help me." I sensed his sincerity and decided to tell him my full story. I told him I was lost, wandering aimlessly, with no idea where my feet would take me. He walked a few steps and then said: — "The entire village is searching for you. They want to put you on trial. Even your parents and brothers are leading the search, eager to hand you over to the judge." I shuddered and said: — "After what happened, I can never go back to the village. I want to work with you—not just for one job. I want to stay with you, serving in exchange for food and shelter." The man studied me and then said: — "It will only be one job—and after that, you will return to the village with honor and dignity." I thought to myself: This man wants to send me to my doom! I looked at him and asked: — "But what is this job? What do you want from me?" He replied: — "I will tell you tomorrow. But know this—you will reclaim your rights from all who wronged you. You will have more wealth than the village elders, even those in neighboring villages. You will regain your confidence. We won’t change anything—but we will help you change yourself." Then, he looked at me and said calmly: — "We are a tribe of jinn.

For your sake, tonight I will go to Al-Subaiti’s house and knock persistently. If he does not open the door and I do not find him there, then there is no pact between us. The old jinn asked, “And if you find him?” I replied, “I am sure I will not find him, but if he is at home, I will do what you ask of me.” At that moment, the old jinn said, “Agreed. But we advise you to be cautious and take something to defend yourself.” He then pointed his staff and said, “Go this way. You will find an old, filled-up well. Search inside it; you will find a dagger that someone once threw there. Take it—it is rightfully yours. But be careful, some villagers are still on the lookout for you.” I was able to get up and walk along the path the jinn had indicated. After some distance, I found an old, filled-up well I had never seen before. It wasn’t deep—about my height. I descended lightly, feeling the bottom with my feet as it was dark. I spotted the dagger, picked it up, and tucked it under my belt. Then I climbed out of the well and made my way down the slope toward Al-Subaiti’s house. The first house to greet me at the village entrance was his. From afar, I could make out the house—I had to reach it without anyone noticing. As I got closer, Al-Subaiti’s house came into view. I had no idea what time it was, but most of the villagers still seemed awake—the lights and lanterns were still burning. I remained motionless, waiting for movement to die down and for the villagers to retreat to sleep. After some time, the lights began to fade, and the movement lessened. I crept cautiously, glancing around in every direction, fearful of being discovered. I stood before Al-Subaiti’s door and knocked on the window several times, then called out, “Uncle, it’s me, Abdul Aziz, open up.” But no one answered. I moved to another window, knocking harder, then stood before the door, almost certain no one was inside. I continued knocking in vain, then turned to leave, thinking, “It seems the old jinn was wrong. Was he even a jinn at all?” At that moment, I heard the door creak open and Al-Subaiti’s voice call out in a hushed tone, “Abdul Aziz, come in quickly!” I turned in surprise and said, “You’re here, Uncle?” It was the first time he had ever let me into his house. It resembled a small shack, with old, worn-out rugs scattered around. I asked, “Why are you here? Weren’t you supposed to be away on a trip? And why do you look so exhausted?” He replied, “I have been ill these past few days. And you—where have you been hiding?” I asked, “Haven’t you heard what happened to me?” “Yes,” he said. “And I am proud of what you did. I have threatened them all—if anyone harms you, I will strike them down.” Then I asked him, “What should I do now?” Al-Subaiti coughed heavily and said, “Forget about returning to your old life. You have become more outcast than I am. But perhaps, I have a solution to your problem.” I said, “What is it? Tell me!” He sighed and said, “As you can see, I have grown old, and illness and fatigue have taken their toll on me. The truth is, Abdul Aziz, that those who rule the village do so under my control. I was once like you—hated by my people, despised. But now, I hold a status higher than anyone else. I will take you under my wing, ensuring your safety and earning you the villagers’ respect. But you must forget your family, your connections with people—even your faith.” I was taken aback and asked, “What are you saying, Uncle?” He coldly replied, “Nothing will benefit you. You will live the rest of your life despised and humiliated. I was the only one protecting you and standing up for you. Listen to me, and you will find fortune and a life envied by the people.” At that moment, I recalled the old jinn’s words. He was right—Al-Subaiti was a sorcerer, and he had cast a spell on me to make me his puppet. If that was the case, then this house held the imprisoned leader of the jinn tribe. Al-Subaiti, noticing my prolonged silence, asked, “Do you need more time to think?” I replied, “I only need a drink of water—I am parched.” He said, “Alright, wait here.” As he entered another room, I drew my dagger and thought to myself, “Can I really kill him? I don’t think I can. I cannot forget that he has always supported me. Perhaps he is merely misunderstood.” As I was lost in thought, Al-Subaiti suddenly appeared beside me and said in a grave tone, “What a pity. I wanted you to take my place, but it seems fate has no mercy on you, Abdul Aziz.” Just as I was about to speak, he lunged at me, striking me viciously with his large hands. I begged him, “Let me speak!” But he poured all his fury upon me, yelling, “Is this how you repay my kindness, you deceitful traitor?” He grabbed me by the throat and lifted me, while I struggled, feeling my life slipping away. I looked into his eyes, filled with pure malice. In a last desperate act, I gathered all my remaining strength, drew the dagger, and stabbed him repeatedly in the chest. He quickly collapsed, drenched in blood. I stared at him, then at the blood-drenched dagger, and cried out, “What have I done? Why did you force me into this, Subaiti?” As I stood on the brink of madness, I heard a voice call my name. “Abdul Aziz! Abdul Aziz!” Who was calling me? Was it someone from the village? Had I been exposed? The voice reassured me, “Do not be afraid. You have nothing to fear.” It was a calm voice, which soothed me. I asked, “Who is calling me?” “Come down,” the voice said. I turned and saw a trapdoor in the middle of the shack, leading to an underground chamber. Inside, I found ancient papers, books, and strange chalk-drawn symbols. In one corner were several bags. Then, I saw an old man—older than the one I met in the valley. His long white beard reached his waist. He sat in the center of a drawn circle, unmoving, frail, as if he had not eaten for months. I asked, “Are you the leader of the jinn tribe?” He responded, “Greet me properly first.” “Peace be upon you,” I said. “And upon you peace,” he replied. “Come closer, do not be afraid.” I approached, and he said, “What happened to Al-Subaiti was his fate. You saw how determined he was to kill you. It was either your life or his.” I asked him, “What should I do now?” “Do you see the circle around me?” he asked. “Yes.” He said, “Say ‘In the name of Allah’ and erase it. Then, set fire to this chamber and leave. The bags there—place them near the old well.” I hesitated, “How can I set fire to this place while you are still here?” He reassured me, “Do not worry about me. Do as I say, and we will meet at the well.” I erased the circle, gathered the books and papers, and set them ablaze. Then, I climbed out of the shack and escaped as the flames engulfed Al-Subaiti’s house. From a distance, I watched the villagers gather, trying to extinguish the fire. I ran toward the well, but suddenly, I collided with someone. Terrified, I looked up—and saw the jinn leader standing before me. “Do not be afraid,” he said. “Your troubles are over. The future holds nothing but good for you.” And so, my life changed forever