Hinn Ch. 01-03

Author's note: welcome to a new series. Yes, this is very much like a genie tale, but there's a couple twists which hopefully change things around beyond Joe Brolly's mythology without being too incompatible. There are also ties back to mythology outside Mr. Brolly's wonderful story setting. Hope ya enjoy!

This is not a quick stroke story. There will be sexy-times, but they will only happen as the story's pace dictates, and that won't start quick.

Edited 4 Nov 2019

All characters participating in sexual activities are 18 or older.

Chapter 1

Dr. Ray Helms unlocked his University office first thing in the morning and carried his coffee in. Flicking on the overhead lights, he eyed the pile of mail on the corner of his desk, a dozen envelopes, and a cubic foot cardboard box. Interesting.

Walking around to his chair, he settled in and sipped his coffee. Well self-disciplined, Ray went through settling the administrivia, bills, ads, and other dross in the envelopes before allowing his curiosity free reign to investigate the box. Most of them ended up in the trash, unanswered.

Unusually, the box's shipping label showed it came through the US post rather than a delivery service. Whoever shipped it had insured it for just less than a three hundred thousand dollars, but there was no delivery signature required, something he'd never seen in all his years of receiving ancient objects through the mail. The USPS didn't sell insurance on its packages that high. Nor did the box have a return address on it.

Intrigued all the more, the good doctor carefully slit the tape sealing the top and unfolded the flaps. Shipping peanuts filled the box. Damn, those were annoying, he'd always end up finding them for days or weeks after opening a box full with them.

Grabbing a small office garbage bag, Ray took out small handfuls of peanuts, carefully checking that there was nothing in each load but styrofoam and static. The smallish box soon disclosed an object wrapped in black plastic. Carefully removing the hefty mystery and scraping off peanuts as best he could, he put it on his desk blotter. Further digging turned up a blank, sealed envelope and nothing else but the remaining peanuts.

Carefully, he put the box with the remaining peanuts into the garbage bag and looked around for escapees. He grabbed two but didn't see the one clinging on the side of his short black hair or the one hiding under his tie.

Opening the envelope, he found a handwritten receipt from an al-Bakr Cultural Institute donating a 'brass statue' to him by name, dated almost two weeks ago. He'd never heard of the institution, and the lack of an address or other contact information was extremely unusual.

The plastic-wrapped object was almost a foot high and weighed around 40 or 50 pounds, almost certainly a small statue of some kind. A little careful knife work let Ray strip off the plastic, confirming it.

It was a brass statue of a seated dog that looked like a mastiff with a gorgeous light patina. It -- she -- sat diagonally on a five-by-five inch fine-grained square granite base about two inches tall with more brass filigree along the edges. It appeared to be a gorgeous example of the ancient pre-Islamic Arabic style of metalwork. Looking it over with growing excitement and awe, Ray was unsurprised to find no maker's mark or the like, the craftsmen of those days had never used them.

If this was what it looked like, someone had shipped him an ancient treasure. It was likely at least several centuries old, possibly a millennia or more. Falling to habit, he took out a sheet of paper and started to document what he knew, what he suspected, and what steps he wished to take to further identify this artifact.

Pulling out a loupe, he started investigating the statue closer. Even given the light corrosion, he was impressed with the detailing. The fur was textured realistically, teeth and nails shaped as they naturally would have been.

The close examination revealed a close-fitting collar, apparently depicting plated leather construction. As per the collars of that time, there were no leash rings or the like, but it did show some wear at the rear as if the dog had tugged long and hard against a rope looped through her collar. It had an awe-inspiring level of detail. He couldn't recall a similar piece of equivalent antiquity.

Strangely the patina was worn away along the spine of the statue, much as if someone had been in the habit of stroking it. Acting without thinking, going against all his training for dealing with delicate ancient objects, Ray ran a finger along the wear from collar to tail.

There was a strange sound, almost a quiet detonation. A bright, brassy cloud immediately engulfed him. As he gasped in a breath in shock, he felt it slide into his lungs. It tasted of brass, but also of dark rich honey, fresh cream, and warm bread fresh out of the oven. And then, he passed out.

Chapter 2

She awoke as the sheathe released her rwh. She wrapped her newest Master in jawhar, holding him and ready to defend him as needed.

Sensing the location surrounding her new Master, she saw some things she recognized and many that she could have never dreamed up. Things had changed since her last Master had died, locking her away until the present.

Her newest Master inhaled, bringing a hefty dose of her rwh within. She gently copied his knowledge and memories from the interaction of their rwh, not even needing jawhar. The information was useful immediately, helping her confirm the lack of any immediate threat. As she was able to absorb these memories, they would only become more valuable.

She felt for his rwh. It was strange - she touched upon his will, his strength of body and mind, his powerful insight, all of which was pleasing. But he had no desire for power, very little fear, and a most strangely flavored hunger for conflict. She was left confused and uncertain about her new Master's life.

His rwh was clean and smoothly flowing through the soil of his shell, surprisingly so for a human of his advanced age - nearly threescore years! She could sense no jawhar, but then again, he was currently unconscious. Some minor flaws - his eyesight was damaged, several joints no longer moved as smoothly as they would have in his youth, teeth worn much less than she would have expected from his age, some pollution buried deep in his soil - were repaired almost as instantly as she noticed them. Not able to easily predict his desires, she did not go further yet.

Leaving jawhar within him, she withdrew from the connection of their rwh waited for his awakening. She began to absorb the copy of his memories, concerned with all the changes around her.

She found answers in his memories, and they terrified her.

Chapter 3

Ray blinked, waking to find himself afloat in a brass colored cloud. Nothing was explicitly visible in the cloud, but the smooth color still gave the impression of motion, as if it were swirling smoothly in layered patterns. Glancing around, he could see himself, but there was no reflection in the brass.

"What the..." he muttered, still tasting the brass/honey/cream/bread mix. It was a surprisingly attractive combination of tastes, one he could never have imagined.

"Welcome, Master. Will you help me?" The woman's voice was high, clear, bright, and she sounded both hopeful and curious. It reminded him of a cavalry trumpet call with the harsh edge turned soft and smooth, something like a jazz horn but distinctly different.

"Master? Wait, where are you?"

"You are within me, Master. You are seeing as much of me as you can currently comprehend. I need your help, though - I need to know how I should appear in the flesh. Picture me, please, Master. "

Picture her? Who was she? What was this wall of brass? Where was the floor? His desk?

He felt hands gently kneading his back, a perfect massage leeching some of the tension from him. A glance behind himself showed him no one there.

Taking a deep breath, he relaxed into the moment as he would before kata or sparring. "I do not recognize you, lady. I can see, but I can only see myself and this brass cloud.'

"As you already expect, Master, I am that cloud. I cannot stay this way for long, however. If you can picture how you wish me to appear in the flesh, I will be able to take that form for you. "

Deep breath. Calm, breathe calmness. "You wish me to imagine a body for you? And what is your name?"

"Please show me a form that pleases you, Master, I only wish to serve you. My name is Tauriz. Unlike others of your day, I only have the one. "

"Thank you for telling me, Tauriz. Mine is Raymond Helms, but please call me Ray."

"Thank you, Master. "

"Why do you call me that?"

"Master? Because that is our relationship - you are my Master, and I am your, your genie? I am not certain, but I think that term is almost right. "

"Genies are myths."

"So was Architeuthis until more was learned about them, Master. "

"Interesting analogy. I just used a very similar argument in my last class. Are you reading my mind?"

"Yes, Master, or else I would have to relearn everything about this new world from language to culture. We lack a common background, making the task extremely difficult. "

"Hrmm. I see. I dislike it, but I understand. I take it you have some urgent reason to wish to avoid spending the time to learn these things the long way?"

"Yes, Master. Master, please picture me as you would. I am very sorry, but I grow fatigued, I cannot stay in this form much longer. Once you shape me I will be able to answer questions at the pace you ask them, but like you, I shall have to sleep and eat."

"What would you like to look like, Tauriz?"

"Whatever pleases you, Master, but I am not a soft creature of pleasure and sloth, but rather a defender, a weapon with few peers. Please shape me so I can perform my task and be your helpmeet in good times and bad."

Ray thought, and couldn't help but to imagine her. She immediately said, "Thank you, Master!" and he was gently dropped back into his desk chair. The brass cloud whirled and pulled together, revealing the rest of his office until she created her own body by consuming the last of it, kneeling over the statue on his desk.

Even though she was the output of his imagination, he was shocked. Her hair was as blonde as brightly polished brass, held in a strange, long, square braid that draped over her left shoulder and coiled neatly on the desk next to her. Her eyes were amber-brown, large and expressive in her oval face. Her other features were small, clean and precise with soft tawny skin precisely laid over well-formed bone. Her long neck collared in leather and brass, her bare shoulders and arms hinted at more than shouted their muscularity. Her hands were a hair less than too large for her wrists, as were her bare feet for her calves. Kneeling as she was, her height wasn't evident, yet he felt confident he'd stand eye to eye with her. She wore no ornaments other than the collar, nor any makeup he could detect.

The rest of her body hid inside a loose black silken tube. It was hemmed at the top with a thick black silken rope shot through with brassy threads and dangled from an extension of that rope which stretched up and looped around the center of the leather-and-brass collar she wore. The rope knotted with what appeared to be an ornate slipknot of some kind, holding it at her collar. The garment left her tawny arms, shoulders, neck, calves, and feet bare. It was very thin, as it fluttered gently around her torso and legs whenever she moved.

"Thank you, Master, this body is most pleasant. I thank you for considering my desires when creating it."

"I'm sorry I wasn't able to let you create it completely, as it is your body."

"But Master, I belong to you. It is right that you decide what I appear as."

"Who made that rule, Tauriz?"

"Those that enslaved me long ago, Master. Whoever opens the sheathe while I am without a Master becomes my new Master for the rest of their life. When they pass beyond, I am forced back into the sheathe until freed again, repeating the cycle."

"I am sorry to hear that. Who was it that enslaved you?"

"The Lords of the Jinn, Master."

"Could they release you from this slavery?"

"I do not know, Master, but if anyone could, it is most likely them. There were rumors that they had occasionally released a few genie from their slavery in the past. Others likely could end me permanently, but it is likely only those who crafted this sheathe," she softly stroked the statue's head, "could potentially alter or remove the magic."

"Do you know where they are?"

"Master, one of the limitations I have is that I cannot act upon or even share the locations of any Jinn, save only those I can see with my own eyes. Happily, their tricks work poorly against me, but even so, I do not see any of them here. I am sorry to disappoint you, Master, and accept whatever punishment you see fit to apply."

"What? No! No punishment! If you cannot, you cannot. Punishing you for something that they did to you against your will is not going to happen!"

"Master is kind, but also mistaken. Master, I chose this fate. I was weak enough to become enslaved. Almost all the rest of my people perished, brave and clean to the end."

"Then the same still applies. You had no choice in the matter. Any punishment would be wrong unless it caught to those that did this to you."

"Thank you, Master."