350th Anniversary Story!

Long ago, in a land now lost to the sands of time and memory, there lived a poor cobbler named Aziib. Though he did not have much money, he was rich inside, because he was married to the most beautiful lady in the kingdom, a woman named Jiraba. They lived together in a modest house, managing to barely make a living, but they were happy.

One day, while walking through the market, when guards from the palace arrived. They were headed straight for Aziib and Jiraba. Two burly guards grabbed Jiraba's arms, and a smaller, more official man pulled out a scroll and read, "By order of the Sultan, this woman is hereby arrested for theft from the royal vault. She will be executed at sun-up tomorrow."

The cobbler had heard stories of people being executed for crimes they had not committed. The sultan had for years been attempting to appear tough on criminals, but refused to allow unsolved crimes. The guards were told that if they were unable to find a perpetrator, the punishment would be handed to one of their ranks. But Aziib never expected to find himself or his wife on the wrong end of the guards wrath.

Aziib was flabbergast. "This is preposterous," he shouted at the official. "My wife has been with me, and we have never been inside the palace walls, much less in the-" He was cut off shout by the prick of a guards sword against his neck.

"If you'd like," offered the official, once he had Aziib's attention, "you could join your lady on the chopping block." Aziib looked to Jiraba, and saw her briefly her shake her head. He fell silent, resigned to letting his wife be taken away for a crime she didn't commit. He stood silent in the market for a long time after the guards left. What else should he have done? What else could he have done, for that matter?

Eventually, the sun set. Aziib was still standing in the now empty market place. As tears filled his eyes, he looked up and saw the bright full moon. All the frustration built up inside of him, not just from the days events but from being a near penniless cobbler all his life, and countless other tiny frustrations. He looked at the moon, took a deep breath, and let out a long, mournful howl that echoed out across the desert for miles.

As he howled, a Wind Djinn came riding the eastern winds over the mountain and heard the howl. The Djinn could feel the emotion of Aziib's cry, and followed the echo back to Aziib. When he saw the man standing there and crying, he knew he had to help. The Djinn appeared befor Aziib as a beggar, so as not to frighten him. "Tell me, friend, what is troubling that you would let out such a powerful howl?"

Aziib looked at the beggar, and tried to smile. He wiped his tears away and said, "The sultan's guards have taken my wife away. She is to be executed at sun-up for a crime she did't commit, and there is nothing I can do."

"Do not worry so, good sir. Your cry has moved me deeply, and I shall save your wife, and bless your household with fortune for generations to come."

"Oh really," asked Aziib, a little incredulous at what this old man can do for Jiraba. "How can a simple beggar hope to rescue someone from the sultan?"

"Friend, I am no simple beggar," the Djinn winked. "I am the Wind Djinn, and will take care of everything. Return to your home and sleep, and when you wake in the morning, you will find your wife in your arms. I will ask my price of you then."

Aziib didn't believe that the beggar in front of him was really a djinn, but he knew that the advice was still good. There was nothing he could do. Aziib thanked the beggar for his time and left for his home.

That morning, just before sunrise, Jiraba was brought out to the execution platform by the guards. As the first morning's lights appeared over the horizon, a heavy fog was blown by the wind that surrounded the execution party. The Djinn quickly went to work freeing Jiraba, whispering into her ears "Fear not, I will deliver you to your husband." When she heard the Djinn's heavenly voice, she fainted, and the Djinn carried her away. When the fog finally listed, the guards were shocked to find the sultan's daughter strapped to the chopping block instead of Jiraba.

Aziib, asleep in his bed, was stirred by a cool breeze coming through his window. When he opened his eyes, he saw his beautiful wife smiling back at him. "Jiraba! My darling wife!" He held her close in an embrace he wished would never end. Suddenly, a knock came at the door. Aziib an Jiraba went to open the door and found the Djinn, dressed as a beggar again.

"I have come to accept my payment for rescuing your wife," he said.

Aziib was about to turn the beggar away, but Jiraba spoke up first. "Aziib! This beggar is the Djinn who rescued me! You must give him whatever he asks of you."

The cobbler was shocked. "Of... of course, Djinn." Both he and his wife dropped to their knees before the Djinn. "What can I do to repay your favor?"

The Djinn said simply, "Your howl." Before the cobbler knew what was happening, a light breeze swept through his lungs and stole a breath from him, transwering his fierce howl into the Djinn. "Your howl will live on through me forever, and for your gift, I shall bless you and your family for just as long."

Aziib and Jiraba both happily thanked the Djinn, and with a whisp of cloud, the wind djinn blew off, howling as he passed between the buildings. From that day on, the cobbler recieved great fortune through his business, and his children and children's children recieved the same blessing.

And to this day, the wind howls with joy wherever it goes.