11 Chapter 11: The Incarceration
VAZAR
“You committed murder?” Hannah whispered.
“I had to. They were evil. They were about to harm her and may have even killed her.” The firm resolve in my voice reassured Hannah that I didn’t have a choice.
I now understood why the portals were sealed shut. Our power was too much to contain in situations of high-tension. Not every Jinn had powers, sure, all of us had the power to go unseen and materialize whenever we willed it but that was the most basic of rights given to us by our creator. Those of us who were slightly more evolved, were gifted with either one or multiple skills. I had to power to will people into a particular way of thinking. We called this compulsion. My other power was to emanate fire from my eyes that could burn to a scorching heat that would vaporize anything it touched.
“You have superpowers?” Hannah’s voice went up a notch.
“I do indeed,” I failed at hiding the smugness from my voice.
“Show me,” she challenged.
“Umm, I would, except I haven’t used any of my powers for 100 years. I can’t even bring myself to materialize before you.” I said sadly.
“Okay, finish your story and then we can practice.”
I smiled. Her support was invaluable. I would practice until I was blue in the face. Anything for her. I wanted to make her happy.
I returned to the story. It must have been a day or two I sat on the decaying monument. I couldn’t bring myself to return home to face my family. Just as the sun in the sky was setting, two warriors from Jumana materialize beside me.
They promptly whisked me home to face the counsel that had assembled in wait for my return. The trial was swift. I had been followed by Watchers who had reported everything back to the elders. They knew what had happened and sentenced me to spend the next thousand years bound to an ancient vase that would host me.
The court was governed by a judge, who consulted with two elders. I still remember their expressions as I stood on trial.
“Vazar, son of Malak, you have been found guilty of murder in the first degree…” The judge’s low voice was calm yet firm. He delivered the verdict with experience that went back thousands of years. In our world, in our courts, no-one had the right to speak unless spoken to by this authoritative figure. “You have been sentenced to one-thousand years, bound to a craft of our choosing. You will no longer be allowed to interact with any other entity…” the rules were dictated swiftly but I wasn’t listening anymore.
My mother was crying behind me, her sobs filled the room with heartache. My father stood beside his wife, supporting her to stand upright. Behind them, my two brothers stood somberly, their faces etched in pain. I had brought great shame to my father. How he could go back to work, knowing he had a murderer of a son, was going to be a challenge for him. But I wouldn’t be around to find out.
The vase was brought in. It had been my mother’s wedding gift from her father, and she had clung on to that vase like a lifeline when she first got married. They bound me to it in a short ritual and I had two minutes to bid my family a farewell. The vase closed around me and I found myself entombed into a small space that would house me for the next 1000 years.
HANNAH
As Vazar completed his story, I brushed away the hot tears that trickled down my cheeks. His story was tragic, but I was grateful for it as it had opened my eyes to a whole new dimension that had been long forgotten. I had learned more from his words in our last two meetings than I had ever learnt in all my years of traditional schooling. His world was a reality, which meant the Jinn kind was a reality too. The stories I had heard growing up from my family had some element of truth to it. How could I have been skeptical?
It baffled me how a simple thing like time could erase certain events that the world doesn’t want us to know or remember. The world of Jinns had been forgotten over the years and humans were oblivious to the fact that they were not the dominant species in our universe. Although Vazar’s people were far superior to ours, he didn’t have an ounce of arrogance instead his story revealed his character to be kind-hearted and protective. It warmed me to know he was the kind of person who would go out of his way to keep others safe. I wondered if he would keep me safe too. For a moment, I let myself be carried into the future and imagined a life with him by my side. Where would we live? Where would we travel? Would we be happy together?
Pulling myself out of the daydream, I turned to ask him a few more questions to understand where I my feelings were leading me.
“So, how many years have you done?”
“Just over 100. I still have 900 more to go.” He sounded forlorn. “I don’t know how these years will pass. They are dragging.”
“What’s it like? Inside there?” I jutted my chin towards his prison.
He thought a moment before answering. “Dark. Silent. Lonely.”
“What happens when you move more than 100 meters away?”
“My body freezes. It’s like I hit a glass window and can’t move further.”
We sat in silence as I digested this information. If he had 900 years more to go, then how would it be possible to even form a relationship? How would we meet up and share experiences together? He couldn’t even leave the room and there wasn’t any possibility of me coming up to Central London every few days. My parents would never allow it.
Another thought occurred to me and brought with it a whole range of negative emotions that almost took my breath away. The barriers between us made it impossible to change our scenery, which meant we would not enjoy the normal things other couples enjoy. No dinner dates, movie nights or long walks through the park. Our conversations would soon die as we wouldn’t have anything new to discuss. That was the perfect formula for a dead relationship.
“Hey, what are you thinking about?” The sweetness in Vazar’s voice turned the knife in my chest.
Oh! This was torture! I fast realized that I had to make a decision, either carry on as we are or end it now. There wasn’t any point in me walking on the fence that would soon break under the weight I carried.
