12. Zaiah

12

ZAIAH

As the mist thickens around MistHallow University, I hover unseen, smoky and intrigued outside Adelaide Black's North Tower window. She could spot me if she were so inclined to focus and separate the mist from my form, but I doubt she will. This girl is an enigma that tickles my curiosity. I've been watching her since she arrived at MistHallow, intrigued by the waves of change she's already causing in this stagnant pond of supernatural politics.

As a djinn, I'm used to observing from the sidelines. We're not meant to interfere directly, only to grant wishes and let the chaos unfold. But there's something about Adelaide that makes me want to break all the rules. Maybe it's the way she resisted my attempt to trick her into making a wish earlier. Not many can do that, especially someone who I feel isn't as strong as she could be yet. Randall Black has kept her a secret for all this time, but I wonder if her true nature was suppressed somehow. That would mean she isn't all vampire. She is something else mixed in. Human? Witch? Shifter? Something.

I watch as she paced her room, her pet orb agitated by her mood. I glare at the orb as it zings over to the window and hovers, almost as if it sees me. In all fairness, it probably does. Those things are above my pay grade, magickly speaking, and only given to the most ‘I' of the VIP students. Clearly, Adelaide Black is one of those. Not that I would expect anything less from the daughter of one of the founding members of MistHallow University. She is about as ‘I' as they come.

With a thought, I attune my senses to her wavelength, letting it wash over me. It's a heady rush, like diving into a turbulent sea. Her energy is so raw, so intense. It's refreshing after years of dealing with the muted emotions of long-lived supernatural beings.

Adelaide stops pacing and picks up her blood drink, taking a small sip and appearing to savour the taste of it. "Stupid, arrogant supernatural arseholes," she mutters. "Who do they think they are?"

I chuckle silently. If only she knew the half of it. Corvus and Zephyr think they're hot shit, but they have the necessary power and background to back it up.

She sighs and pulls a book out of her backpack. As Adelaide settles in to read, I draw on her essence, pulling it into every cell in my dissipated form. At twenty-one, I'm barely more than an infant in djinn terms. Most of my kind are ancient beings with centuries or even millennia of experience. But me? I'm an anomaly, a djinn born in the modern age. The only one. That makes me shit hot as well.

My parents, both powerful djinn in their own right, were shocked when I came into existence. Djinn reproduction is rare, happening only once every few centuries. To have a child in this era of technology and scepticism was unheard of.

From the moment I was born, I was different. While other djinn clung to ancient traditions and rigid rules about wish-granting, I embraced the chaos of the modern world. Why stick to lamps and rings when you could hide in smartphones or nest in the cloud?

I flex my magical muscles, feeling the familiar rush of power. As a djinn, I can manipulate reality itself, bending the fabric of existence to my will. But it's more than just granting wishes. It's about understanding the intricate web of cause and effect, seeing the ripples that each action creates in the pool of reality.

With a thought, I create a small pocket dimension within Adelaide's room and move myself into it. To her, nothing has changed. But in this hidden space, I can move freely, experimenting with my powers without fear of detection.

I conjure up a swirling vortex of sand, each grain a potential future, a possible outcome. This is how I see the world - not as a fixed reality, but as an ever-shifting landscape of possibilities. It's what makes wish-granting so tricky, and so fun.

I turn my attention back to Adelaide. She's still reading, oblivious to my presence or the miniature dimension I've created in her room. I wonder what she would wish for if given the chance. Power? Knowledge? Love?

It's tempting to reveal myself, to offer her three wishes like in the old stories. But that's not how it works, not really. Wishes are tricky things, born from the deepest desires of the heart. But they need to be spoken aloud and granted by a mystical being. They're constantly being made and fulfilled, shaping the world in subtle ways.

My job is to nudge those wishes along. To find the hidden desires and bring them to light, often with unexpected consequences. It's a game of strategy and chaos, and I love every minute of it. That's the beauty of being a djinn. It's not about cosmic power or world-altering magick. It's about the small changes, the butterfly effect that can turn a tiny wish into a hurricane of consequences.

It makes me somewhat of a pariah in our community, which is fine. It's why I'm here at MistHallow in the first place. The institution which takes on misfits, the clueless and the rebels. Quite a mangled mess of creatures ends up here, but that's what makes it even more interesting. You don't know who you are going to come across.

As I focus intently on our girl, I notice she has fallen asleep, the book sliding from her grasp. I'm tempted to use my magick to tuck her in, to ease the furrow of concentration from her brow. But that would be crossing a line I'm not ready to step over yet. Instead, I simply watch as she sleeps fitfully, her dreams no doubt filled with fangs and magick and the strange new world she's found herself in.

I float closer, studying her face. There's power hidden beneath the surface. Power that could rival even the oldest supernatural beings if properly harnessed. It's intoxicating to be near, like standing at the edge of a storm.

Suddenly, the urge to bind us together is poking at me. It's risky, breaking the rules of non-interference that have been drilled into me since birth, but I ignore on a near-daily basis. I want her to be mine as I am hers. I have a longing for her, which makes me ache. It's sudden, dangerous and irrational, but what a djinn wants, a djinn gets.

With a wave of my hand, I send a tendril of magick towards Adelaide's sleeping form. It's subtle, so subtle that even the most powerful beings at MistHallow won't notice until it's too late for her to do anything about it. She is bound to me now, and nothing will change that unless I break it. But I know it's there, a tiny ripple that could grow into a tidal wave.

As I withdraw my magick, I feel a thrill of excitement. This is why I love being a djinn in the modern age. The old ones are content to wait centuries for their meddling to unfold. But I want to see results now , to be in the thick of the action as it happens. Instant gratification.

I glance at the clock on Adelaide's bedside table. It's getting late, and my night schedule is all over the place. I should head back to my room and adjust as necessary. But before I go, I decide to leave one more little surprise.

With a snap of my fingers, I create a small, ornate bottle on Adelaide's desk. It's not a traditional djinn lamp but a modern twist on the concept. Inside, swirling mists of possibility await, ready to grant a wish, but only if she figures out how to use it.

It's a risk, leaving such an obvious trace of my presence, especially with that pesky orb floating about, sniffing me out. But something tells me Adelaide is going to need all the help she can get in the coming days. If she's smart enough to resist my first attempt at trickery, maybe she'll be clever enough to use this gift wisely.

As I prepare to leave, I take one last look at the sleeping beauty. Adelaide Black, the girl who could change everything. I may be young for a djinn, but I know enough to recognise a pivotal moment when I see one. Whatever happens next, it's going to be one hell of a ride.

With a grin, I fade from view, my form dissipating into smoke as I close the pocket dimension and travel on the mist back to my room, my mind is already racing with possibilities. How will Adelaide react to my gift? What will she do with the spark of power I've given her? And how can I position myself to be right in the middle of the havoc when it all unfolds?

Back in my room, I materialise fully, stretching out my corporeal form. My room is a mishmash of modern tech and ancient artefacts, a reflection of my unique place in the world of djinn. A state-of-the-art gaming setup sits next to a millennia-old Persian rug… a flying carpet, if you will, protected by magick and unseen forces. My phone—a portal to countless wishes waiting to be manipulated—sits on my desk next to a traditional oil lamp.

I flop onto my bed, my mind still buzzing with the events of the night. Watching Adelaide, binding her to me, leaving the bottle... it's a more direct intervention than I've ever attempted before. My parents would be furious if they knew. But then again, they've never really understood me.

To them, being a djinn is all about maintaining balance and playing the long game. They don't understand why I bother with social media, video games, or any of the trappings of modern life. We are timeless beings. Why concern yourself with the fleeting fancies of mortals?

But that's exactly why I love it. The fast pace, the constant change, the endless stream of wishes and desires flitting through the digital ether. It's a playground for me, full of opportunities to cause mischief and mayhem.

I pick up my phone, scrolling through my various social media feeds. Each post, each comment, each like is a tiny wish waiting to be granted or twisted. The girl hoping her crush will notice her latest selfie. The guy wishing his clever tweet will go viral. The influencer desperately wanting to hit that next follower milestone.

With a few taps and a sprinkle of djinn magick, I set a few wheels in motion. The crush will notice the selfie, but only because an embarrassing detail in the background goes viral. The clever tweet will blow up, but spark a controversy the poster wasn't prepared for. The influencer will get a massive influx of followers, but they'll all be bots that destroy their engagement rates.

Small things, but chaos, nonetheless. It's what I live for.

I find my thoughts drifting back to Adelaide. She's different from the usual mortals I deal with. Her wishes and desires are deeper and more complex. She doesn't want fame or fortune or fleeting validation. She wants understanding, control, and a place to belong.

It's refreshing, really. And challenging. How do you grant a wish like that? How do you twist something so pure and focused completely on oneself? It's self-involvement at its finest, but not in a bad way. She is alone, truly alone, so the people and things around her mean nothing.

Yet.

Once my bond has grown in strength, she will have me.

She just doesn't know it.

I lie down with a smile while I continue to flick through my phone.

"Watch out, MistHallow," I murmur. "You have absolutely no idea what's coming."