Once upon a time, in the ancient city of Tlemcen, there lived two sisters. The elder was called Aazza — a name that suited her perfectly — gentle as the morning breeze, kind-hearted, always helping neighbours and feeding the poor. The younger, Maazzouza, was beautiful to look upon, but jealousy gnawed at her heart whenever she saw how people loved her sister.

One day their mother fell gravely ill. The wise healer told them: only water from the Blessed Well at the top of the mountain could cure her. The mother whispered: "Whoever brings me the water before sunset shall carry my blessing to the end of time."

Aazza set off at dawn, a song on her lips and hope in her heart. Halfway up the mountain she met an exhausted old woman weeping under the weight of a heavy bundle of firewood. Without a moment's hesitation, Aazza took the bundle from her, gave her bread and olives, and walked her home.

The old woman's eyes shone as she spoke: "You are as generous as gold, my child. Listen carefully — at the well you will find three keys. Take the old rusted one. Do not touch the shining golden one."

At the well, Aazza found the three keys. She turned the rusted key, and water poured out like liquid light. She returned before sunset. Her mother was healed the instant she touched the water, and where Aazza's hand brushed her mother's cheek, a golden rose bloomed in her hair — a rose that would never wither.

Maazzouza, who came later and shoved the old woman aside, took the golden key — and found the well dry. She returned empty-handed, her heart heavier than when she had left.