Smoke

PrologueSaalik’s earliest memories were of smoke and darkness, and of fighting unconsciousness to no avail. He knew on some instinctual level that it hadn’t always been so. He was sure that he had once walked free like those he served, his dreams being of blue water and warm breezes whenever he closed his eyes. He felt certain he had walked free in the sunlight, even as there had been a darkness in him. There was always darkness in them, the ones that became the Jinn, but eventually that darkness faded, just as the memories did, and there was just the serving. His next memory of any clarity was of when the walls that held him had gone from dark clay, warm to the touch, to that of colored glass. He couldn’t exactly see through it, but he got a sense of movement, saw the blur as people passed, made out the murmur of voices. Even though he had not been released in more years than he could count, he stopped feeling alone. Saalik existed there in his colorful prison, no longer concerned about falling into another sleep and never waking up. Instead, he watched, memorizing the rainbow spill of light, and waited for the next asshole to set him free. Well, there may still have been a little darkness in him.