Key to the Lighthouse

Once Scorcha was alone beside the magnificent shining stained glass windows of the empty church did she slip her hand into her pocket and pull out what had been hiding there all along.
As she stared at its shining surface, she felt a pinch of longing for her old sense of life blossom somewhere from deep within. Her eyes became round and sad as she stared at the key-as if hypnotized. She could see memories flash before her eyes.
She turned it in her palm, and overlooked the thin black string she had attached it to in case she were to lose it. The key dangled there inches from her face. It was a strange key indeed, not like any other key Scorcha had ever seen.
It was shaped exactly like a lighthouse, black as midnight charcoal except for the white sapphire decorating its centre, where in real life would have been kept the shining lantern. That’s obviously what this diamond represented. Blue sapphire swirls spiralled up the base of the black lighthouse and at the bottom was the same sapphire sea reaching up to crash into the lighthouse with white crested waves. And the two outstretching arms near the top of the lighthouse didn’t look like pictures but rather symbols of some sort and a bunch of random swirls with no pattern whatsoever branching out. The arms looked like this:
C
L
In other words, a fancy lettered C, and a fancy lettered L. But what did the initials of C.L stand for? Many mysteries shrouded this complicated little key. And yet it was the prettiest key Scorcha had ever seen in all her life.
Scorcha vaguely remembered her own footsteps echoing on the spiral staircase of the old wooden church. Her aunt had taken home in this ancient wood and stoned church, her room kept at the top of the bell tower.
She remembered tip toeing up the stairs, careful not to make a sound. Until she came to the old wooden door creased with streams of flowing browns and knots. For once in a lifetime she remembered the pounding of her heart as she realized the door was unlocked. Her aunt rarely left the door unlocked, it was as if she had something to hide. Well whatever she had to hide would soon be revealed.
She had slid her pale hand up the cool door and it opened a tiny bit with a creak. She realized then and with bitter adrenaline that the room had been left unguarded.
A faint aroma of old wooden oak and of the sea was drifting in through the open window. The white curtains were flowing in the soft salty breeze and the walls had become an odd sort of ancient stone that reflected the light around the room. Old wooden dressers and cabinets were shadowed in the corners and the room in itself was an odd shape like that of a fish bowl. Scorcha had only come for a peek, and was soon about to leave when something glinted sapphire in the corner of her eye. She had turned to look.
That’s where it hung against the dull gray of the wall, blackish silver and flashing and dancing with breathless beauty. Gems of many colours and stone that should have never been. And Scorcha knew all at once what it was even though she had never seen it before.
A key.
The key.
The key to the lighthouse.
Without a moment to spare, she had already taken the key into her own hands, somehow knowing that she was accepting the role of Keeper as it lay between her fingers. She had taken a precious moment to run her finger along its smooth surface before she heard steps ascending up the staircase. Scorcha quickly slipped it into her pocket and fled as silent and graceful as a swan-out the open window.
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A story I've been writing called "Once Upon a Lighthouse" It still needs a lot of work :/ I"m not quite satisfied with it yet. It seems I need some inspiration because I'm getting clumsy with my words -_-' But yeah, it WAS just a sketch but then I got carried away and started colouring it and stuff..