Quest For The Key

Chapter 28: Why

“ I just don’t understand” Centra was saying “ Why would you come? Why would you risque being caught?”

 “ Why not “ replied Jealousy

“ Without the key too. You are no longer immortal you realize. Why would you risque dying?” he said again and waited for her answer but it didn’t come.

She stood behind the thick rusted bars of her cell and thought about I. Why did she not care if she died or not? Why did she welcome death to take her? Did she want it or was she meant to have it? Centra tried asking more questions but there she stood staring off into space silent. When he left she sat in the corner of her cell and thought again and again about Why. Why this and that. Why everything. She finally drifted off to sleep and remembered her past for the first time and it all seemed so very real. Like it was all happening , again.

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It started before the men came.

“ Take this my little one” the Dark Lord whispered.

Jealousy only 5 and the Dark Lord stood in an open meadow.

“ What is it” a young Jealousy whispered back. “ It’s an Iran flower. Go plant it and do not come back here.” the Dark Lord sniffed.He hugged his creation, crying for a moment before handing the magnificent purple and white Iran flower to her.

 “ Father why mustn’t I come back. Surely you aren’t made at me.” exclaimed an innocent Jealousy.

“No my precious I love you very much. I am not mad. No go.” he cried and held out the flower.

Jealousy grinned and held the flower gently in her hands then she said “ thank you father” and kissed him on the cheek.

 Jealousy skipped away back to the cottage and planted the flower in the middle. After, she smiled satisfied at her work. She was about to go inside like her master said when she heard the clashing of metal. Jealousy ran half flew, for her wings were still very small and couldn’t support her full body weight, back the way she had come, but was sadly too late. A large group of men on horse back were riding off as she approached. In the dirt lay her creator bloody and broken

“ Father?” Jealousy whispered. “ Father, master why don’t you answer me” she asked again “ do you not love me?” she bent down over his mangled body and listened but there was no beat, no pulse.

She lay there till morning on his chest and cried. In daylight she buried him in the garden beside the flower. Although all the other flowers died and became black stumps the Iran flower kept living.  What died in that field was not just her father, her master but her. Her joy and spirit, her soul, and love, her belief. She turned to darkness, turned to greed and, selfishness, to cruelty fr anyone because in her enfant eyes every one was responsible. Her sad, lonely childhood lasted a long and painful time and the nightmares never left.  Ever since that day, she didn’t consider herself as living, she tried hard but could never ever find a reason for her being.