The Goodness within

The Djinn learned to move on without his beloved family to guide the way, leaving his coven forever. Soon the memories of his former life began to fade, for being in a different form for such a long time lost a fundamental connection. Ahimsa’s soul continued to cry for the lost, and so remained in an anchored state. The darkness was spreading too quickly-for them both.

The ‘Djinn’ were a species consumed by evil, but it was only sustained in their true form, morphing into a human disrupted this supernatural state and so the effects of darkness were felt to an immensely greater extent. And so, in order to maintain a safe level of sanity, The Djinn spent every minute of his endless life fighting for the miniscule amount of good left within. Meanwhile, Ahimsa’s goodness was slipping and she too was left in a tiresome battle between light and dark.

As the days’ light withered away, so did The Djinn’s hope. All this time, he had spent persuading himself that Ahimsa was fighting a battle she could win, however, it was a struggle she was facing alone, one she shouldn’t have been. Throughout his time in the mortal world he witnessed one phenomenon: a parents’ love for their children. And so, his first and, perhaps, last act to save her purity was to create a child, but by magic, for Ahimsa was still a Sleeping Beauty and thus was in no physical state to procreate. However, magic always has a price; this was a risk The Djinn was willing to make. The child, being of two different species-one supernatural and immortal, and the other mortal-meant that they would always struggle in the life they lived, but this was not the price that was to be paid. The ever-evolving state of goodness and evil within the child’s biological parents would be reflected in the child themselves. The more corrupt Ahimsa and The Djinn became, the more evil the child would get.

Throughout all of this he worried greatly for Ahimsa’s outcome, and so he concealed the creation of their child from her. He suspected that despite being comatose she was still able to hear and he was right. Ahimsa awoke, shortly after their child was formed, and revealed that she was acutely aware of The Djinn’s true form, and in her fear wished to prevent her inevitable ageing, one thing in life she was truly frightened of. The distraught being profusely pleaded with her.

For weeks she begged. The Djinn, many times, pondered over revealing their creation to Ahimsa. However, she was no longer the soul the creature grew to love. Her light had given in to the darkness and it was only a matter of time before she would be consumed by it. He was too late to save her. His pleading lost in vain.

With the love he still had for his beloved also came a rush of lust, another evil eye. The Djinn could sense the effect the evil was having on their baby, who was growing more powerful and restless by the day. So, to save them both, The Djinn did the unthinkable. He confined Ahimsa’s soul to the astral plane, a place for wondering souls, a place where no earthquake could shake her alive nor could a volcano pour out his heart. He hoped she would be free of suffering and his child saved from the clutches of evil. And, upon Ahimsa’s reunion with her physical body, The Djinn would return to the depths of darkness, until another cry is heard.

Meanwhile, he continued to care for their child and his struggle between good and evil slowly became easier, however he knew that he was not capable of taking care of an infant, especially one so special. So, the youngster was put into care and quickly adopted by a loving family. The Djinn continued to watch out for his child, occasionally sending gifts. He vowed to reveal all when the time was right.

The infant grew up knowing they were different and, being part supernatural, could sense the presence of a father, but never of a mother, and as fate recalls, the youngster’s mother never knew of her own child either.

In his yearning for love, he lost all, child and mother alike.

‘And so it was told-

The myth of the ‘Grieving Soul’

A story which screamed love

Cried for the lost and felt for the damaged.

One which had not been spoken

But be gentle kind heart for we are still broken.’