21 The Chest

The days had been mundane aside from my raging thoughts. With the madness growing in my head I neared desperation for any clues. As if the Master read my mind, a chest showed up outside one morning. I had opened the door to my training yard to find something familiar. It was the chest my father had hidden in our home. I never knew what was inside and let him keep his secret.

It had disappeared the day he was murdered. It was not hard to connect the dots, at least in theory. Something contained in it was a reason for his death. Evidence most likely, for I knew he was a man of honor and would not steal for personal gain. Anything more I was not certain. Perhaps his seclusion had more meaning than a new life for his family. I had given up finding more answers. Apparently the answers had not given up on me.

My captivity is connected with his murder, I concluded. The Master would not have revealed his knowledge of my father otherwise. I had suffered no harm here as well, which furthered my conclusion. How this chest became in his possession was another mystery. At its disappearance those years back, I thought it was the murderers who stole it. Yet here it was. Was the Master there that day? If he was involved, why had it taken five years to come to this?

I knelt down to find the key laying on top. Did the Master know what it contained? My hand trembled slightly as I turned the key. This was the greatest connection to my father and the mystery shrouding his death. The contents would bring a further tangle of both answers and questions.