𝗔𝗹𝗮𝗱𝗱𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗠𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝗟𝗮𝗺𝗽 🫖...

Part 4: The Sorcerer's Brother

Far beyond the sands and seas, in a land of jagged cliffs and swirling storms, a dark-robed figure stood before a black mirror. His eyes glowed red with fury as he watched the images flicker—Aladdin triumphant, the lamp reclaimed, his brother cast into the void.

“So,” the man hissed, “the boy has bested a sorcerer. But he has not faced me.”

This was Hasan, the elder brother of the fallen sorcerer. A master of shadow magic and ancient curses, feared even among the darkest circles of the earth. He vowed not only to recover the lamp—but to destroy Aladdin, his name, and everything he loved.

Meanwhile, in the royal city, Aladdin and Princess Badroulbadour lived in peace. The people celebrated them as heroes. The Sultan, now deeply fond of Aladdin, began preparing him to take the throne one day.

But not all was well.

One night, the stars flickered strangely. The winds turned cold. Birds stopped singing. And far away, in a hidden room of the palace, a whispering voice echoed through the darkness.

“Aladdin… Aladdin…”

The Genie of the Lamp appeared before Aladdin without being summoned.

“My master,” he said, bowing low, “a great danger approaches. One stronger than my last master. His name is Hasan.”

Aladdin narrowed his eyes. “The sorcerer’s brother?”

“Yes. He seeks revenge. He will come not with fire, but with deceit. He can change his form. Hide his scent. Enter minds. Even I cannot stop him unless you command me quickly.”

That same night, a strange old holy man appeared at the palace gates. He claimed to be a wandering healer and seer, offering visions and blessings from the stars.

The Sultan, curious, allowed him into the palace.

He was none other than Hasan, cloaked in illusion.

“Your Majesty,” he said, bowing. “I have traveled across realms to share a vision: a great illness will soon strike the princess. Only I can protect her.”

The Sultan was alarmed. He summoned Aladdin and asked him to allow this seer to bless the palace.

Aladdin, suspicious, politely declined. “My princess is well, and we have all we need.”

But Hasan smiled coldly. “You will regret this.”

That night, Princess Badroulbadour fell gravely ill—her breath shallow, her skin pale, her eyes closed in a cursed sleep. No physician could explain it.

The Sultan turned to Aladdin in desperation. “Let the seer help her, I beg you!”

Aladdin now knew the truth: this was no illness—it was dark magic.

He retreated to his chamber and called both the Genie of the Lamp and the Genie of the Ring.

“My wife’s life is in danger,” he said. “How do I break this curse?”

The Genie of the Lamp replied, “Only one thing can defeat such darkness: a tear from the heart of the one who truly loves her—shed willingly in sacrifice.”

Aladdin clenched his fists. “Then take me to her.”

He sat beside Badroulbadour, held her hand, and whispered all the memories they had made—how they met, how she smiled at him that first day, how they had danced in secret halls and watched the stars from palace rooftops.

And then, quietly, a single tear fell from his cheek and touched hers.

Her eyes fluttered open.

“Aladdin?” she whispered, breath returning.

At that same moment, far across the city, the illusion around Hasan shattered. His rage exploded.

“I will not lose to love,” he growled. “I will take the lamp myself.”

But Aladdin was ready.

The moon hung high as the winds stirred over the golden rooftops of the city. In the shadows of the palace walls, Hasan, no longer cloaked in disguise, moved like a black flame. His eyes burned with vengeance, and in his hand, he held a dagger forged from cursed obsidian.

Tonight, he would steal the lamp—or burn the palace to the ground trying.

But inside, Aladdin was already preparing. After saving Princess Badroulbadour with the tear of love, he knew Hasan would strike again—and soon. He summoned both Genies.

“Tonight, he comes,” Aladdin said. “Hide the lamp. Guard the princess. But let me face him myself.”

The Genie of the Lamp bowed low. “You are brave, Master. But he is no ordinary sorcerer.”

“Neither am I an ordinary man,” Aladdin replied.

That night, while the city slept, Hasan crept silently into the palace. The halls were dark. No guards in sight. No traps. No resistance.

He reached the royal chamber—and found the lamp sitting on a table beside the bed.

Smirking, he reached for it.

But before his fingers touched it, the lamp vanished in a puff of smoke.

The room lit up in a golden glow.

Aladdin stepped from the shadows, sword drawn.

“I was expecting you.”

Hasan bared his teeth. “You have no idea what power I wield!”

With a wave of his hand, flames burst from the air, shattering furniture and walls. He hurled dark bolts of lightning, forcing Aladdin to dodge and duck.

But Aladdin had been trained. And more importantly, he had heart.

As they fought, the palace shook. The Sultan’s guards raced in, but the Genie of the Ring held them back—it was Aladdin’s battle alone.

Hasan summoned a massive shadow-beast, claws of black glass and eyes like coals. It lunged at Aladdin with a roar.

Aladdin rolled, stabbed, and fought with all his strength.

Then, he made his final move.

He called out: “Genie of the Lamp—now!”

The Genie erupted from thin air, hands glowing with divine fire. He caught Hasan mid-spell and held him frozen in the air.

“Master,” the Genie said, “shall I destroy him?”

Aladdin looked at Hasan—furious, defeated, still spitting curses.

“No,” Aladdin said firmly. “Banish him. Forever. And make sure he never harms another soul.”

With a thunderous boom, Hasan was cast into a prison of smoke and shadow, locked deep beneath the earth, never to return.

Silence fell.

The flames died. The winds calmed. The palace was saved.

Princess Badroulbadour ran to Aladdin, tears in her eyes. “You came back for me again,” she whispered.

“Always,” he said, holding her.

The Sultan declared a celebration throughout the kingdom. Lanterns lit the skies. Bells rang from the minarets. And Aladdin, once a poor street boy, now stood as a prince, a protector, and a legend.

But as the Genie of the Lamp floated above the clouds, he looked down and smiled.

“This is no longer a story of magic,” he said. “It is a story of love, courage, and the rise of a true hero.”

To be continued...