Careful What You Wish For

Allen Denson couldn't believe his fortune, for a number of reasons. As a 23-year-old, this was pretty hard to believe. His Great Grandmother on his mother's side, whom he barely had any real contact with, left him her estate and the rest of her family token keepsakes; this did not go over well with the rest of the family, so much so that he actually had to file a Restraining Order on the family as a whole and Order of Protection for himself and the estate just in case any of them tried to break the Restraining Order or get a third party that was technically not included in the Restraining Order to cause him trouble on some level. To take his mind off that crap show, Allen decided to explore the estate, starting with the attic.

After a few hours of rummaging around in the attic, it really was that spacious; Allen opened an ornate-looking Arabian chest, he knew his Great Grandmother and her husband had come over from the Arabian peninsula before the World War era, but he hadn't thought they were this well off the moment they arrived. The chest was covered in decades upon decades of dust; he only realized how ornate it was after wiping away a patch of dirt. Looking inside, Allen saw a bunch of things that had dust from years of storage settled on everything...everything but a small, and very ornate box that looked like it was the container for a ring or a brooch or some other piece of jewelry of that kind. Allen carefully took the box and made his way to the nearest bathroom, his hands were dirty, and the estate had half a dozen restrooms on his last count from the official map that was presented to him when he was awarded the estate's deed.

After washing his hands off, Allen opened the box to find a rather plain-looking silver ring with light filigree carved into it to give the faint impression of smoke or mist. Allen slipped on the ring, and a moment later, red wisps of smoke poured out of the ring before twirling and forming into the very sensual form of a woman before suddenly transforming into said woman, in what looked like a translucent red attire that could only be described as some sort of dancing harem girl outfit. Her skin tone was vibrantly Arabian, almost aggressively so but in a fun way that also meant business.

"Greetings, Master," she said in a prim tone and Arabian accent that was neither heavy nor light but somehow got across the exact words she meant to say while still being clearly Arabian but not distinct enough to hint as to what part of Arabia, "I am a Jinn of the ring, you who wear it and have rightful ownership of it are my master. Your wish is my command; just know that I have the limits of a powerful sorcerer, for that is who created me and my vessel."

Allen stared at the bombshell that was before him and only asked one question, "How many wishes do I have to make before I can't anymore?"