Disclaimer: I don't own Aladdin or any variations.

Read on, oh faithful ones...

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Chapter Three

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The lamp was gone from Jai's hands, hidden in the depths of the tiger. Not even a lifetime of searching would reveal the lamp for the one who had already held it. The tiger kept his promise to guard the lamp, and so Jai never saw it again.

Jai wandered through every part of the tiger for what could have been years. Jewels at every look, more gold coins than he could count, scrolls with foreign and unknown scribblings. Corridors and stairs weaved between each other, gold and silver coating every possible surface. After some time, he had the sensation that he was being followed.

The flying carpet saved him from a falling pile of gold after Jai tried to remove a shield and sword from the middle of the mountain. He was too grateful for his life to be afraid of a carpet that was in mid-air.

Somehow, the tiger kept Jai alive for much longer than his natural-born life would have; food appearing when he was hungry, water appearing when he was thirsty. A bed was made from gold beams and a blanket of the softest silks from a time that was long lost. He was free from disease, and stayed healthy and fit with his endless roaming.

It was a lonely life though, and towards the end of it, Jai found himself talking aloud more and more often, wishing for companionship. The carpet, while seeming to understand him, did not have the ability to answer him, to look at him as a friend or lover could.

Jai wanted to see his family again, see if they had missed him, if they had looked for him, if his new baby sister or brother had grown up knowing his tale. He wondered if they sang songs about him, or if the mention of his name was enough to bring tears.

Age came upon him slowly, and Jai would find himself wondering why he had come down this particular set of stairs or into this particular room. The carpet stayed with him more and more often, guiding him when he couldn't see very well, ensuring he didn't fall down the stairs, and bringing fruit and water to him when he forgot to eat.

Jai stopped talking out loud eventually, the words no longer making sense to his ears. He lost all sense of his mind, of time, of everything he had remembered or known when he was younger.

Late one night, when lying in his golden bed with silken sheets and surrounded by all of the world's wealth, he took his final breath.

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Above the sand, the wind and waters flowed, the world continued to spin, the seasons followed in an endless cycle, and the world changed.

Beneath the sand, hidden within the depths of the luxurious cave, the genie sat within his lamp. He listened to every whisper of wind, every drop of water, could feel every turn the world took. And it was driving him insane - batty, cuckoo, loco, around the bend, mad as a hatter, bananas, bonkers, loony, psycho - which was definitely worse for a genie than a human.

Nine thousand years of madness and insanity took their toll, until one morning (or possibly night, it was difficult to tell when all he could see from inside his lamp were stars), the winds of change began blowing.

The world had changed, the gypsies spread out across the lands, new and old, in order to seek their fortune. And the tale of the nameless genie had gone with each and every one. Some created fantastical tales around the genie to charm townspeople for some extra coin, while others went about their lives without mentioning the genie at all, but they all remembered.

For those that did talk of the genie, they were regarded as tale-spinners, people who created a sense of fear just to get money. For the most part, no one but children listened to them, but when one gypsy provided half of a scarab to support his claim, people began to reevaluate their first impressions of what they had thought was nothing more than a story.

The scarab pieces were passed down to members of the gypsy family, unless one was so unfortunate as to get killed over it. Which, after five hundred and fifty years of the tale being taken seriously, was what happened.

The gypsy leader's death was mourned by his family, and when it was discovered that the scarab piece was not with him, a search was made for it. It was not found that night, nor for many years after.

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Cassim was young when he first heard the story of the genie. Gazeem had tried to scare him with the tale, but had only succeeded in making him curious. Cassim's father had presented their half of the scarab to the boy for his birthday, having remade it into an amulet, and made him promise to never lose it.

Neither father nor son noticed the greedy look on Gazeem's face as the scarab passed between them.

For years, Cassim kept his promise to his father, and the scarab piece stayed with him at all times. Even when he fell in love, he kept the amulet on his person. Even when the gypsy clan continued on without him and his new wife, he kept the amulet. His wife became pregnant, and gave birth to their son, and Cassim broke his promise. He didn't want to be looked down on, didn't want to live his life in squalor, not now that he had a wife and son to provide for.

Cassim gave the amulet to his wife, made her promise to tell the tale to Aladdin when he was old enough to understand, made her promise to give him the amulet on his tenth birthday, and finally, he promised to return. He would bring back enough riches for a house as beautiful as his wife, he'd promised. She'd laughed, but watched with a heavy heart as he left her alone with their son. They both broke their promises.

Cassim's wife died when Aladdin was young, too young to understand the story, too young to receive the amulet. She was buried with the amulet, and her son was left to raise himself on the streets of Agrabah.

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Gazeem made money by selling and twisting the story of the nameless genie. Well, it wasn't so much money as it was distracting his audience from the fact that his young friend was picking their pockets. But it was a living, and he was fed at the end of the day, so he didn't see a reason to change it.

That all changed when he met Jafar. The Grand Vizier had been so enthralled by the tale that Gazeem's young friend had almost taken six gold pieces from him. Almost, at least. Kind man that he was, Jafar let Gazeem live, so long as he told him the real story about the genie.

The riches of the world had been promised so long as Gazeem helped Jafar find the second piece of the scarab beetle. (Gazeem didn't ask how Jafar had found the first piece, and after seeing the blood on it, preferred not to know anyway.)

He agreed quickly and set about finding what had happened to Cassim, his young wife, and their son.

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End of third chapter.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!