The Tale of the King's Son and the She-Ghoul

In the name of Allah, the Compassionate, the Merciful, I shall recount to you the terrifying tale of Prince Janshah and the She-Ghoul, a story that demonstrates how courage guided by wisdom can triumph over even the most malevolent supernatural forces, and how divine protection shields those who face evil with pure intentions.

In the days when the desert kingdoms of Arabia were ruled by wise sultans and the trade routes between distant lands were traveled by caravans loaded with precious goods, there lived in the city of San’a a king whose power extended from the mountains of Yemen to the shores of the Red Sea. This king, whose name was Malik al-Zahir, was blessed with many sons, but none more beloved than his youngest, Prince Janshah.

Prince Janshah possessed all the qualities that make a ruler worthy of his people’s devotion—courage that had been proven in battle against the kingdom’s enemies, wisdom that impressed even the oldest counselors at court, generosity that made him popular among both nobles and commoners, and a deep piety that guided all his decisions. Moreover, he was exceptionally handsome, with features so noble that poets compared him to the heroes of ancient legends.

When Prince Janshah reached his twenty-fifth year, his father decided that the time had come for the young man to undertake the pilgrimage to Mecca, both as a religious obligation and as a final test of his readiness to assume greater responsibilities in governing the kingdom. The king provided his son with a magnificent caravan, trusted guides, and enough wealth to ensure that the journey would be conducted with the dignity appropriate to a royal prince.

The pilgrimage proceeded smoothly through the early stages, with the caravan following well-established routes through territories controlled by allied tribes. Prince Janshah performed his religious duties with exemplary devotion, distributed generous gifts to the poor pilgrims he encountered, and conducted himself with such honor that his reputation for virtue spread among the other travelers.

However, on the return journey from Mecca, as the caravan approached the borders of his father’s kingdom, Prince Janshah made a decision that would lead him into the most dangerous adventure of his life. The main caravan route would require an additional week of travel through mountainous terrain, but local guides informed him of a shorter path across a section of desert that could reduce the journey by several days.

Against the advice of his experienced caravan master, who warned that this alternate route passed through regions known to be haunted by supernatural creatures, Prince Janshah chose the shorter path. His decision was motivated partly by eagerness to return home and partly by youthful confidence in his ability to handle whatever dangers might arise.

“My lord,” pleaded the caravan master, “the Bedouins speak of this desert region with fear and trembling. They tell tales of travelers who have entered these wastes and never emerged, and of strange voices heard calling in the night to lure the unwary from their paths. I beg you to reconsider this decision.”

But Prince Janshah, whose courage had never been tested by supernatural enemies, dismissed these warnings as superstitious nonsense. “Allah protects those who trust in Him,” he replied confidently. “No force of evil can harm a believer who maintains his faith and conducts himself with righteousness. We shall take the shorter route and trust in divine providence to preserve us from any dangers we might encounter.”

The first two days of travel through the desert proceeded without incident, and Prince Janshah began to believe that his confidence had been justified. The landscape was certainly desolate—endless expanses of sand broken only by occasional rock formations and scattered thorny bushes—but they encountered no supernatural threats or unusual phenomena.

On the third night, however, as the caravan made camp beside a small oasis surrounded by date palms, the situation changed dramatically. Just as the travelers were settling down to sleep after evening prayers, a series of horrifying sounds echoed across the desert—screams and wails that seemed to come from tormented souls, accompanied by a sound like the beating of enormous wings.

The camels became restless and refused to lie down, the horses whinnied nervously and strained at their tethers, and even the most experienced desert guides looked around with expressions of fear and uncertainty. The sounds continued throughout the night, sometimes distant, sometimes alarmingly close, but always carrying an undertone of malevolence that made sleep impossible.

As dawn approached and the sounds finally faded away, the caravan master approached Prince Janshah with obvious reluctance. “My lord,” he said in a voice trembling with fear, “during the night, three of our guards disappeared without trace. We have searched the entire area around the camp, but we found no signs of struggle, no footprints leading away from our position, and no indication of what might have happened to them.”

Prince Janshah examined the evidence himself and confirmed that the missing men had indeed vanished without leaving any clues about their fate. Their weapons and personal belongings remained in their positions, but the men themselves had disappeared as completely as if they had never existed.

“We must continue our journey,” declared the prince after consulting with his advisors. “To remain here would serve no purpose, and every day we delay increases the anxiety of those who await our return. However, we shall maintain double guards tonight and ensure that no one leaves the camp for any reason after sunset.”

The fourth day of desert travel was marked by increasingly ominous signs. The landscape became more desolate and forbidding, with rock formations that seemed to take on the shapes of monstrous creatures when viewed from certain angles. The few birds they observed were carrion crows and vultures that circled overhead as if expecting to feed on corpses. Most disturbing of all, they occasionally found scattered human bones bleached white by the sun, evidence that previous travelers had met unfortunate ends in this region.

As evening approached and the caravan prepared to make camp in a rocky depression that offered some protection from the wind, Prince Janshah noticed a strange figure approaching from the direction of a distant hill. At first, the figure appeared to be an ordinary Bedouin woman walking toward their camp, but as she drew closer, several details began to seem distinctly unnatural.

The woman walked with a gliding motion that seemed to cover ground far more quickly than normal human locomotion should permit. Her clothing appeared to be made of shadows rather than fabric, shifting and flowing in ways that defied the gentle evening breeze. Most disturbing of all, her eyes glowed with a red light that was clearly visible even at a considerable distance.

When the figure reached the edge of their camp, she called out in a voice that was simultaneously melodious and terrifying: “Peace be upon you, noble travelers. I am a poor woman lost in this desert, and I beg your hospitality for the night. Surely men of honor will not refuse shelter to one in distress.”

The caravan guards instinctively reached for their weapons, sensing danger despite the apparent helplessness of their visitor. But Prince Janshah, bound by the traditions of desert hospitality and his own noble nature, could not refuse aid to anyone who claimed to need it.

“Peace be upon you, sister,” he replied courteously, though maintaining a respectful distance. “You are welcome to share our fire and food, but I must ask how you came to be alone in this dangerous wilderness.”

The woman smiled, and her expression was so beautiful that it almost overcame the fear inspired by her glowing eyes. “I was traveling with my family’s caravan,” she explained, “when we were attacked by bandits three days ago. Everyone else was killed or captured, but I managed to escape into the desert. Since then, I have been wandering without direction, praying that Allah would send help before I died of thirst and exposure.”

Her story was plausible enough, and her apparent distress seemed genuine. Prince Janshah ordered his servants to provide her with food and water, while maintaining the careful vigilance that the strange circumstances seemed to require.

As the evening progressed and the woman shared their meal, she proved to be an entertaining companion. She spoke knowledgeably about poetry and music, told amusing anecdotes about life in various desert communities, and displayed a wit that impressed even the most skeptical members of the caravan.

However, as the night deepened and most of the travelers retired to their sleeping areas, Prince Janshah noticed that the woman’s appearance began to change in subtle but disturbing ways. Her fingers seemed longer and more claw-like than they had appeared earlier, her teeth looked sharper when she smiled, and her eyes glowed more brightly in the darkness.

When she thought no one was observing her, the woman would occasionally make strange gestures in the air, as if casting spells or communicating with invisible spirits. Moreover, Prince Janshah noticed that whenever she looked directly at any of the sleeping travelers, they would begin to move restlessly and make small sounds as if experiencing nightmares.

Realizing that their visitor was almost certainly not human, Prince Janshah began to recite verses from the Quran under his breath while pretending to prepare for sleep. The woman immediately turned toward him with an expression of anger that revealed her true nature—her face briefly transformed into something monstrous, with blazing red eyes, fangs like a wild beast, and skin that seemed to be made of shadow and flame.

“You think your prayers can protect you from me, young prince?” she hissed in a voice that no longer sounded remotely human. “I am Umm al-Suʿla, the Mother of Flames, and I have devoured a thousand travelers in this desert. Your holy words are meaningless against the hunger that has driven me for centuries.”

The creature rose to her feet, revealing that her true height was nearly twice that of a normal woman, and her form began to shift between human appearance and something far more terrifying. Prince Janshah drew his sword and called upon his guards, but the she-ghoul laughed at these precautions.

“Your weapons cannot harm one who is already dead,” she declared mockingly. “Your guards sleep under my enchantment and will not awaken until I have finished feeding on your life force. But I am not without mercy—I offer you a choice that I have given to no other victim.”

“What choice do you offer, creature of darkness?” demanded Prince Janshah, maintaining his courage despite the supernatural terror of his situation.

“We shall play a game of riddles,” replied the she-ghoul, her eyes blazing brighter with anticipation. “If you can answer three questions that I pose, I will release you and your caravan unharmed. But if you fail to answer even one correctly, I shall feast upon your flesh and bones, and your companions will join the ranks of spirits that serve my malevolent purposes.”

Prince Janshah realized that he had little choice but to accept this challenge, for his sword would indeed be useless against a supernatural entity, and his guards remained unconscious under the creature’s spell. His only hope lay in trusting to divine providence and whatever wisdom he possessed.

“I accept your challenge,” he declared firmly. “Ask your riddles, and let Allah judge between us.”

The she-ghoul smiled with terrible satisfaction and began to pose her questions:

“First riddle, young prince: What creature walks on four legs in the morning, two legs at noon, and three legs in the evening, yet remains the same being throughout its existence?”

Prince Janshah had studied the classical texts and recognized this ancient riddle. “The answer is man,” he replied confidently. “In the morning of life, he crawls on hands and knees as a baby. At noon, he walks upright on two legs as an adult. In the evening of life, he uses a walking stick as a third leg to support his aged body.”

The she-ghoul’s expression showed both disappointment and grudging respect. “Correct, prince. Your education has served you well. But my second riddle is more difficult: What is the treasure that increases when shared, becomes worthless when hoarded, and can make the poorest man richer than kings?”

This question required deeper thought, and Prince Janshah paused to consider all possibilities. After several moments of reflection, understanding dawned: “The answer is knowledge. When knowledge is shared with others, it grows and multiplies. When hoarded by those who refuse to teach, it becomes meaningless. And a poor man with wisdom is indeed richer than an ignorant king.”

The she-ghoul’s frustration was now evident, but she was bound by supernatural law to honor their agreement. “Again you have answered correctly. But my final riddle will surely defeat you, for it requires understanding of truths that few mortals comprehend: What is the force that can conquer the mightiest army, humble the proudest king, and overcome death itself, yet remains invisible to human eyes?”

This was indeed the most challenging question, requiring not just intellectual knowledge but spiritual insight. Prince Janshah closed his eyes and prayed for divine guidance, searching his heart for the answer that would save his life and the lives of his companions.

Suddenly, understanding flooded his mind: “The answer is faith. Faith in Allah can conquer any earthly army through divine intervention, can humble the proudest ruler by reminding him of his mortality and dependence upon the Almighty, and can overcome death by promising eternal life to the righteous. Though invisible to human eyes, faith is the strongest force in existence.”

The she-ghoul let out a shriek of rage and frustration that echoed across the desert like thunder. “You have defeated me, prince, though it galls my evil heart to admit it. Your answers were correct, and I am bound by ancient laws to honor our agreement.”

As she spoke, her monstrous form began to dissolve like smoke in the wind. “But know this, young man—you have not destroyed me, merely sent me back to the depths from which I came. Other travelers will face my hunger in times to come, and not all will possess your combination of learning and faith.”

With these final words, the she-ghoul vanished completely, leaving only a faint smell of sulfur and brimstone to mark her presence. Immediately, the enchanted sleep that had held Prince Janshah’s companions was broken, and they awoke to find their leader standing guard with his sword drawn.

When he explained what had transpired during the night, the caravan members were amazed by his courage and wisdom. The guards who had disappeared on the previous night were found wandering in the desert nearby, confused but unharmed—apparently, the she-ghoul’s defeat had broken all her enchantments and freed her previous victims.

The remainder of their journey home proceeded without supernatural incidents, and when Prince Janshah reached his father’s kingdom, his adventure became legendary throughout the land. The story was told and retold, growing in detail and significance with each telling, until it became one of the classic tales used to teach young people about the importance of combining courage with wisdom and faith.

King Malik al-Zahir was so impressed by his son’s handling of this supernatural challenge that he immediately began preparing to transfer greater authority to the prince. “You have proven,” the king declared, “that you possess not only the courage to face physical enemies but also the wisdom to overcome spiritual dangers. These are the qualities that will make you worthy to rule after me.”

Prince Janshah’s victory over the she-ghoul also earned him a reputation as a protector against supernatural threats. Travelers who had to cross dangerous desert regions would often seek his blessing before beginning their journeys, and many reported that invoking his name provided protection against evil spirits and other malevolent entities.

In later years, when Prince Janshah became king himself, he established a tradition of providing armed escorts for pilgrims and merchants traveling through regions known to be haunted by supernatural creatures. His own experience had taught him that while faith and wisdom were the ultimate defenses against evil, practical precautions were also important for protecting ordinary travelers who might not possess the spiritual strength to resist supernatural temptations.

The tale of Prince Janshah and the she-ghoul became part of the great collection of Arabian stories that preserved moral lessons for future generations. Parents would tell this story to their children to illustrate the importance of maintaining faith in difficult circumstances, and scholars would use it to demonstrate how education and spiritual wisdom could work together to overcome seemingly impossible challenges.

Moreover, the story served as a reminder that evil forces do exist in the world and that good people must be prepared to face them with both practical and spiritual weapons. The prince’s victory was achieved not through physical strength alone but through the combination of learning, faith, and divine protection that represents the ideal response to supernatural malevolence.

Thus ends the tale of Prince Janshah and the She-Ghoul, a story that teaches us that knowledge without faith is powerless against true evil, that courage without wisdom is merely recklessness, and that those who trust in divine providence while using all their human capabilities will find that Allah provides the strength needed to overcome any enemy, whether natural or supernatural.