Maybe running away had not been the best possible idea after all...Even though the life of a slave had never been easy, right now it felt like even that would beat dying to the exposure in the endless plains.

Xerxes fell to his knees in the dust, his blistered feet refusing the carry him any further. 12 years of doing as he was told, of being beaten up for the slightest mistakes or for as much as looking in a wrong way at the bandits who had claimed their home village as their property. And it would all end here. Without accomplishing anything.

He grunted in pain as he pushed himself back to his feet. No, he could not let that happen. There had to be some way to make a difference. To change this rotten world.

But willpower alone could not overcome the sheer exhaustion overcoming his body. He tripped, not sure on what, and fell face-first back to the dirt.

His hand fisted on the dry grass, and tears of frustration flowed down his cheeks. "Please...Whoever is listening..."

A stray drop of water fell on his hair. Then another.

It was raining. Gods must have heard him and granted him a miracle to slake his thirst.

But still he could not find the strength to move.

~*~*~

When he regained consciousness, he wasn't sure if he had died and gone to paradise. He was surrounded by white softness like he was lying on clouds themselves.

"Are you awake?" a man's voice asked.

He turned his head to look at the speaker, only now realizing that what he was in was an impossibly soft bed. "I think so," he croaked out, his throat dry and sore.

The man had a graying topknot on his otherwise bald head and long goatee, but otherwise he didn't look old at all. He wore baggy pants of palest sky blue and a sleeveless tunic green like fresh grass that just seemed to showcase his muscular arms further.

"I am Rakshi," he introduced himself. "I must admit I was surprised when Medela brought in a living human. What brings you here?"

Xerxes looked around. He didn't honestly have any idea where "here" even was. The walls were completely white, curving into a dome above them, and despite the lack of any apparent sources or windows, everything was illuminated in soft light like the rising sun. "I...ran." He coughed, his throat feeling like the dust had lodged in there to stay.

Rakshi walked silently to a small fountain gushing forth fresh water at the wall and filled a goblet that seemed to appear out of thin air. Then he brought it back to the boy.

"Thank you," Xerxes said and bowed his head as he took the offered water and drank deeply.

Someone parted the curtain at the doorway to the room and peeked inside. It was a young woman with her long, brown hair tied in a high ponytail. "Is he awake? Is he awake?" she asked, so enthusiastic that she might have as well floated in the air.

Rakshi nodded. "He woke just a moment ago."

She stepped into the room, and Xerxes almost choked on his water. She was so beautiful, and what little clothes she wore could barely conceal the fact.

"Medela, you should remember that humans are by nature modest-"

She clearly didn't listen at all. Instead she literally flew to Xerxes and hugged him tightly. "Oh, you were right! He's really cute now that he's cleaned and patched up!"

Rakshi just cleared his throat.

Xerxes was a little shocked by her demeanor, but even more so by the fact that she was still hovering a few inches above the bed. "Am I dreaming? Are you really flying?" he directed his words at Rakshi, more than a little unsure how to react to the woman's antics.

The man calmly rose a handspan or so to the air. "We are djinns," he explained. "The gods gave us the gift of flight when they created us."

"Oh..." The boy's mind was too busy processing the entire situation for a moment to think of anything to say. Then his heart started beating faster. Was this the answer to his prayers? "Did they...did they send you to help me?!"

Rakshi looked at him curiously. "Help you on what exactly?"

"I...want to free my people. They're being enslaved by bad men."

A chair, much more luxurious than Xerxes had ever seen, just appeared out of nowhere as Rakshi took a seat. "Medela, please stop snuggling him and let him tell his story."

She stuck out her tongue at him, but left the boy alone and flew to sit on the other djinn's lap.

"Wars of men are not our concern," he continued. "What is good or bad for mortals is like a line drawn in water."

"We'd like to help you," she put in, "But we should not. Our powers can change the course of destiny, so we should not pledge them to any side lightly."

"I understand." Xerxes's hand fisted on the bed covers. "But this can't be right. How strong men bully the weak and make them their slaves. I want to change it all. I want to make a world where all people are free and equal."

"If that is your destiny, we will not interfere with it either," Rakshi stated calmly. "You are free to stay in this place until you are healed, if you so wish."

Xerxes slowly nodded his head. "Thank you."

Maybe it was too much to ask for the gods to fix the world of mortal men. As his grandfather had always said before he passed away, men had to make their own destinies.