The true history of the Kha'labal is buried in the past under millenia of sand, where neath lie many secrets, shaped by forgotten whispers as the wind does the dunes. Going back to the beginning the story starts in the high age of Ankrahmun when fluted pillars and trees of palm lined the view for any citizen in the golden city and not a single grain of sand was found in its streets.

It was during one languid afternoon in that time where a young man was found studying in the quiet recesses of the city's library. Still and peaceful, one could see, courtesy of the windows, the flecks of dust in the air floating lit and golden which came accompanied with the far-off murmurs of the metropolis. While at his desk half writing and half reading about the various philosophies and branches of knowledge of this world a Djinn stole through the window and not long afer with curiosity peered over the shoulder of this young man, reading his musings and work. It was an uncanny wisdom and wit this boy possessed thought the Djinn, all while he detected in him a love of knoledge that was at the same time not so adulterated by the zealous flames of certainty so often found in youth. He was a spirit untained by the ambitions of self-advancement, in quest of truth and yet not pedantic; whose complexion belied the awareness of the value and beauty of the daily sacraments of food and wine as much as the endless pursuit of the fine and varied tastes found in dusty and aged scrolls or those in the lecture hall. 

The Djinn having watched thousands of humans grow from the mud and sand had never recognized a spirit so like his own kind. And so he appeared before the boy, with the overture being a charming compliment for his work. The boy at first startled as any would be gathered himself and posed query to the Djinn who hung before him about the topic that mystical being broached. Hours ensued where the two shared conversation across a range of subject and topic until the sun was laying along the horizon and the space of the library grew orange. The Djinn drew the discourse to an apt close and told the boy though their company had to now pause it did not need to end. He spoke of a place far way, where no other in all the world could rival for its store of knowledge and culture, nor of beauty and virtue. He invited him and said they could be there before the middle of the night sky was past. The boy agreed as sensing no deception in his counterpart. Suddenly the Djinn produced a magical carpet hovering in what light was left in the library. The Djinn gestured to the young man and equally the young man acceeded. And so they were off, out from the window with a rush, flying over the city with wind. Then soon high above the desert anext the moon and minutes later sailing in the company of stars with waves of the sea sweeping far below. In not a few hours a great silouette of blue began to be seen on the night's horizon, suspended out alone over the sea, their destination now clear. This was how the first and last human, a boy named Daraman, came to discover 

Alqasr Al'Abyad.

At first the Djinn were wary of this young human and even appalled at their kin's decision to bring him to their home. However before long their doubts were replaced with pleasure and where appallation had been gratitude moved in. They marvalled at this man, who yet young had so much time still for improvement and refinement.  Daraman spent years with them, learning their ways and history, imbibing their culture, and even offering contributions wherefrom their relationship more and more resembled one of colleagues and friends as opposed to master and pupil. Days were spent in discourse and discussion , garden and courtyard, at table and on divan. Many Djinn were so moved by this man's presence they took it upon themselves, at the prospect of this new found faith in the race of humans, to seek to try to find other men and even women who would be as Daraman, a joy and benefit to their company, and a health to this world. However alas it was not to be, as from every pail into the riverbed came not water but sand, all forays ended in nought.

Notwithstanding after the years had passed Daraman earned the faith and approval of not only most Djinn but near all, including one of the oldest, Gabel, the military leader Malor, and the polymath Fah'radin. It was with this trust Daraman was allowed to view what was most sacred, prized, and guarded of the Djinn. And so by the same Djinn who first brought him here years ago, his closest friend, he now lead him to Al'qala, shrine and wellspont of their kind.

A magical and otherwordly place it is...  Nested in the back of Alqasr Al'Abayad it sits a valuted room, domed and open-aired so the breezes from the sea flow through unaccosted. As one approaches mosses and vines begin subtelty and then richly to cover the ground and walls, vegetation abounds with green bushes and plants tinged with teals and crimsons and everywhere puddles of water. There are fireflies of blue and white that trail through the place lazily and content, and nowhere more than at the center.

For at the center of the Al'qala is its namesake. A fountain of rock draped in mosses with water so blue and so heavy to the eye it is impossible not to ensare one's gaze, pulsing upward before trickling its life into the whole place. At the center of the fountain is a stone of blue, where beneath its mantle one can see inside dancing flares of light. It is an ancient energy that goes back to the beginning of the Djinn and the Kha'labal. Between this sacred stone and the Djinn exists a symbiotic relationship. You see Djinn draw their magic, their spirt, their lifeforce from it and it itself is pregnant with the spirit of the Djinn, it is lost even to us which came first... If one is removed then in time the other will diminish as well. Our ancestors moved the stone from the Kha'labal to here to ensure it's safety and protection long ago. 

Before Ankrahmun's rise Djinns were birthed from the Kha'labal itself. A spirit would waken and out from under the palm leaf or anext an oasis his journey would begin; now, for tens of millenia, this place is where Djinn are born, ensuring our survival. In that time ago our race had for some span sensed our relation with the Al'qala, understanding it's vitality was intertwined with ours. But as humans began to stalk the valleys and mountains around the Kha'labal we saw a wild, crude, uncontrolled destruction in them, and thereby understood a danger. It was this that impelled us to move the stone to a place  secret and protected for not only the ensurance of we Djinn but the Kha'labal itself. 

You see the Kha'labal draws it's own life and fertility, as we do, from the Al'qala. It is what made green this region once, and seeing the dawn of the humans planted fear in us that they when discovering this thing would covet it and eventually destroy it, and as such the Kha'labal and we Djinn ourselves destroyed. This is the reason it now rests here and this is the reason no human may know of it. Notwithstanding until the 'Djinn Wars' the Kha'labal remained as rich and fertile as if the stone laid within it: As I have said the Djinn and the Al'qala are one. It was we by constant sojourn and travel through the Kha'labal and the Kha'zeel that we shared our lifeforce with it: streaming endlessly for millenia over and through these places nourished them. For though we had our just fear we did not wish harm to the land itself nor the beings that inhabited it, even though humans caused worry in us we had our hope and faith that given time they would develop into a wise and beneficent race. Therefore as you may be able to align the pieces together already it was not the battle of the Djinn Wars and the Conflagration that destroyed the Kha'labal; it was that eventually the Djinn no longer had faith in humanity and thereafter no longer frequented the Kha'labal. And the cause of this will be known soon enough.

When Daraman was first brought to the place he at once fell to his knees and began to weep at the beauty and wonder of the holy site. His tears soaked into the moss and grass as he felt the magic and love between the Djinn and it. In infrequent places in the nooks of the Al'qala grew the most pristine and pure lapis lazuli. While Daraman visited the shrine the Djinn broke off a piece and gave it to him as a gift in honor of Daraman's reverence; legend would turn this into Daraman's Tear.

It was after this climax Daraman had decided he would return back to Ankrahmun for better or worse and did nothing but give the greatest thanks for the times and joys his friends hospitality had offered him. It was indeed a most sad end for the Djinn who watched him leave, a day of tears surely. For as already mentioned hundreds if not thousands of other humans were sought by Djinn to see if anyone else seemed worthy of their time and teaching but no one proved such. And so a bitter truth needed to be confronted. A high-council was called where every Djinn would be present and the most bitter of deliberations would occur. To we Djinn it was obvious what the future held... Daraman indeed was an exception, a single jewel in an otherwise vast desert of sand. Thousands of years had passed and humans were not refining themselves towards peace and betterment, on the contrary the more advanced and knowledgable they became the more potently could they wreak devastation and harm with their intrinsic nature not being bridled by their civilization's evolution. Instead their nature remained unchanged since their first steps -- driven and controlled by their own fear, doubt, and greed, their stupidity in being ravenous and no understanding towards restraint, wanting in both moral will and compass, and constantly given to folly and self-destruction. It was thought by us that continuing to nurture them as we were would be foolish and only end miserably. For millenia we had graced and travelled the Kha'labal in the hopes that by sharing our life with it some good would grow out of it, a race called men came forth and much hope we had for it. Daraman was that hope incarnate, a being similar in virtue yet distinct in many ways from us, but alas as well unique to his own kind.  And so a great plan was begun on our part which would carry millenia forward lasting to this day, requiring an inordanance of patience and sacrifice; taking this pre-emptive action would at least limit the devastation as opposed to cleaving to a futile hope only ending in a full measure of loss and destruction. By this humans and their growth would be curtailed, for if left unchecked they would only destroy themselves and the beautiful world of Dura too.

Meanwhile Daraman had returned to Ankrahmun. He spoke of his time with us and of what he had learnt and seen. Before long his teachings gathered a religious energy even with his remonstrations against such dogmatic organization. In time as all mortals do Daraman died and passed into the next life. It was only too soon after he left this world that his disciples were dissatisfied with the origin of their fledgeling religion. They did not like that Daraman learned and took so much from this remote and unfamiliar race, the Djinn, they thought it trivialized their founder and belittled their race. And so they bastardized the record  and documentation concerning their founder and their founder's history. And so it was not Daraman when he visited them that learned and was thankful for so much from the Djinn, it was instead he who was master and they pupil. They particularly designed on the fictious relation of Daraman and Gabel, and though absurd it was, (as Daraman and Gabel had only small relations compared to other Djinn) how Daraman took Gabel under his wing teaching him the divine mysteries of this life. Unfortunately for humans this only further solidified our notion in them: a vain, weak, and foolish people. And our efforts towards our purpose were redoubled.

And a better time we could not have chosen, for it is this lie and fantasy we seized upon and by fanning its flames began the subterfuge that has last till this day. 

We immediately installed a small amount of ourselves into two small fortresses in Kha'zeel, Mal'ouquah and Ashta'daramai. We then let leak word of their locations as well of the rift between Djinn following the prescription the disciples of Daraman had set. That Gabel came under the wing of Daraman and Malor's disdain at this, from it a divide was created, Efreet and Marid, one set against the other. The Djinn now suddenly and apparently were at war with each other. From this much was achieved: First of course we would seem weaker than if we were united, notwithstanding in a state of charged violence and conflict. Perceived this way humans as they are as children and are coerced and paranoid by possibility, would be less concerned with us as a threat and therefore less interested towards a pre-emptive move against us as they would not fear our aggression as we ourselves would be preoccupied in an internecine war. While at the same time we Djinn being not in peace but in violence humans would be less inclined to seek us out and covet what we might have, whether knowledge, technology and magic, or even the proverbial treasure.

Simaltaneously being in this position politically gave us creditibility to start seeking allyship with others not ourselves. The 'Efreet' moved to the necromancers of Drefia, a burgeoning polity yet nascent but dangerous with an evolving prowess in the magical arts. While 'Marid' made sweet with the Ankrahmunian people. Thus we Djinn had an eye, ear, and silver toungue in each camp, being able to anticipate as well as sway each of our enemies under the crest of alliance; under the veil of our weakness we could weave intrigue and influential relationships on each side. It was over hundreds of years through well planted words and intigue, cleverness and guile, calculated timing and pressure we fomented and nurtured antipathies and fear by the one for the other, each accoutremented with personal vendetta's that spanned generations. It was from this stoking that war became inevitable and that each of these rising civilizations, which posed truly dangerous if allowed to thrive, were to be hamstrung and crumbled.

When the 'Djinn Wars' came therefore the truth of them deviates little from the known history, and thus the contents bear no repeating of what transpired but of course one pivotal exception. It is of course well documented that in the climactic battle many Djinn died, this is a farce; well placed as well, for it would only further convince humans of the Djinn's political weakness and therefore lack of threat, by doing so ensuring we would be left alone. The reality of course is that no Djinn died. It is true that many Djinn fell that day and their bodies laid still and unmoving, but by magic not death. Rather each Djinn put themselves, by a rather strong and arcane form of magic, into a breathless sleep, perfectly mimicing what death would look like to any eye. They would then stir from this later after ten thousand suns, by that time well buried in sand; such magic as this which is so powerful by it's very nature demands a large sacrifice of time. It is humorous to this day that humans, whether necromantic or Ankrahmunian, could think their magic or blades could harm let alone kill the spirit of a Djinn. 

From here we have had to do little. For though humans stir in the northern lands and other regions of Dura they are still so far behind their ancestors and therefore we must endeavor little to contradict their evolution. There is however another planned measure that indeed did arise as expected in the aftermath of all of this. With the fall of Ankrahmun and Drefia so too was the absence of much knowledge that otherwise would have crossed from generation to generation, because of this along with our meretricious alliances unique advantages were afforded to us: trade. Humans are at best neophytic when it comes to smithing, forging, and crafting. They do not know the values of different metals and crafts as much as they cannot tell the differences between them. We therefore are constantly open to accepting the wares they come across for a fraction of what they are really worth as to them they believe they are getting a fair price, further benefitting our wealth and resources and more importantly keeping them poor and in need. This comes with the equal artifice of robbing them of proper weaponry and armory consistently weakening their military power so they cannot effectively equip armies and thus limiting their means to do harm to themselves and the greater world of Dura.