o. prologue

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Dahlia's tears flooded her small world like an ocean of sorrow, drowning out her agonized cries. The memories of torture and pain that plagued her mind never washed away, locked up with her for eternity. For centuries, Dahlia Hadid had been confined to the golden walls of a Djinn bottle. It was small enough to fit in the palm of an outsider's hand but big enough for her to be endlessly tormented by the loneliness and heartache that filled it. Trapped within the cold, hard walls, all Dahlia had was the silence and her broken heart to keep her company. Every passing day felt like a lifetime, her heart growing heavier, weighted with guilt and misery as she slowly lost all the remaining hope she had left.

She longed for the freedom she once felt thousands of years ago, for the comfort of her home, for the love of her family. She wanted nothing more than to undo the havoc she caused, her conscience breaking her down every single day for the errors she made.

Being bound to a bottle had always been a Djinn's destiny, only free when summoned by their master and used for their magical touch. For millenniums, it hadn't been this way; the few existing Djinn's had lived in health and happiness, free from the slavery of granting their master's deepest desires. Heart heavy, Dahlia wished now more than ever that she had been grateful for the freedom she was born into– loved and safe in a village of her family and friends and free from heartache and imprisonment.

Now, heartache and imprisonment were all Dahlia knew. She feared more and more every day that her memories of what once was a life full of warmth and joy would be wiped away by the memories of her suffering and grief. She feared she'd be overcome by the shadow of growing darkness and the regret that always tugged at her soul— all the mistakes that clung to her like a vengeful spirit. The mistakes that changed her entire world and the people in it. The mistakes that rendered her heart shattered, leaving her with nothing but a cursed scar burned into her back, eternally binding her to her slave vessel, and reminding her every day of what she had done.

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