Masquerade of Madness: Their Fear

Vincent closed his eyes and leaned back. He pinched the bridge of his nose and began to rub. It had been a very long, tiring week, trying to get Creed withdrawn from St. Kingston's High School for the Advanced in Mystical Arts. Somehow getting him enrolled in a Human high school was far less taxing.

Vincent ceased rubbing his nose and folded his arms against his chest. His lips curled at the thought of Creed's professors, but relaxed at the thought of Creed leaving. He felt his brother was ready for his new venture. But it would still be a worry, and not without significant danger.

According to their legends, Casalyians were descended from a group of explorers that survived a fall from the sky. A type of Human found the explorers and for awhile helped them get established in their world, some even developing affection, mating and families.

Eventually, the Humans became jealous of the Casalyians superior intellect and extraordinary abilities. The Casalyians resented the Humans emotional turmoil.

The Co-existence slowly disintegrated. So, the Casalyians decided to put their superior intellect to work. They secretly began building Casalynn from memories of their home base. Materials were limited and hindered their launch. They could not escape the gravity and heavy atmosphere of the Humans but with effort they could remain aloft and hidden.

Of course, this was just one legend, the one that Vincent preferred. There were others, but they all ended with enmity between the races, which exists to this day. Creed hopes to resolve it. He also planned to seek out any reference materials that may supply information on Casalynn's existence.

A sudden bang interrupted Vincent's thoughts. He threw a dirty look toward the metal ceiling.

Again, Vincent considered his brother's burdens. Casalynn was never a good home for Creed. Everyone knew what he was. So that meant no matter where Creed went in Casalynn, he had to put up with other Casalyians staring at him, throwing objects, and saying vile things. He was also continuously being undermined. It was a lot for his brother to bear.

Another loud bang echoed.

Tired of waiting, Vincent heaved a deep sigh and got out of his chair to see if Creed had finished packing. He crept to the central air funnel of the tri-level domain he shared with his brother. Spreading his wings only slightly, he silently drifted up to the second-level landing. The stone wall immediately morphed, allowing Creed's doorway to manifest.

Vincent hoped Creed would not notice his plan to intrude. He slowly poked his head into the light blue room, only to see an utterly amusing sight. His brother was fighting with a red-colored suitcase and losing. Creed slammed his fist down, trying to shut the overly-stuffed suitcase, only to have it erupt in front of his face. He glared at it, then slowly began to dream of setting it on fire.

"You know the best way to punish something is to put it to good use," Vincent said and chuckled.

Creed blushed in embarrassment. "How do you know what I am thinking?"

Vincent laughed out loud. This is the individual that they fear? This child who can't even pack a suitcase.

Creed stared at him, then narrowed his eyes.

Vincent spoke in his fatherly tone, "I raised you. How could I not know the inner workings of your mind? You also remind me of our mother. She would glare at things hoping they would be of some use, or think of ways to destroy them. Now finish getting ready. We leave in one hour."

Creed groaned, then quickly looked down at his suitcase. His mouth tilted to the side.

Vincent noticed this, held his breath and thought, here it comes.

"Why don't things just pack themselves?" Creed blurted out.

Vincent sighed and his shoulders slacked. He was certain Creed was going to ask what was the best way to destroy it. They eventually would have to talk about destructive tendencies, puberty, and molting. All conversations Vincent would love to avoid.

Vincent gave Creed's bedroom one last glance.

Their ten-year age difference could not be more apparent than in here. He quickly studied the area, noting Creed's messy desk, his half-made bed with the suit he wore to the council meeting intermingled on top, along with many open books. He shook his head and proceeded to withdraw himself from the room.

Returning to the air funnel, Vincent spread his wings and drifted down to the lower level, the shared living quarters of their domain. He stopped abruptly at the eating area, surveying his surroundings. When he heard a quick knock, his eyes swept over the dark stone floor, to the light-gray iron walls.

It is best to avoid the knockers, Vincent thought, while walking into the eating area. After going a bit farther, he surveyed the room. This time he paused to listen again. Sure enough, multiple Casalyians were talking in a hushed fashion outside.

Again, Vincent decided to avoid them and remembered that when Casalyians whispered, there was usually some violence intended. He ignored the knocks and whispers, walked to his table in the middle of the room and sat down. Suddenly, two very loud bangs, directed at the door, came from the outside.

Vincent huffed. "It is going to be one long hour."

Finally, the whispers spoke up louder. "Bring us the lad. He does not know his place. We must have our eyes on him at all times. He must be dealt with! He is one of them. He is a monster!"

Vincent snapped at that last word. "Monster," he muttered. "Do they even truly know what a monster is," he chuckled darkly. "Certainly not that child. I am more of a villain than he is."

"Jade!" Vincent suddenly spoke with authority, summoning his servant, who seemingly appeared out of thin air. The newly-appeared monster looked at her master. Vincent seemed to be calm, but she knew that underneath his smooth exterior was a boiling interior. She watched as his bluish-black hair appeared to collect charges of particle energy that roamed around freely.

"Are you charging your energy?" Jade asked, studying her master.

Vincent glanced to Jade, his loyal, faceless, and shapeless floating blob of saltwater. "They are working my last nerve, and yes, I am charging."

"What would you like me to do, Master?"

Vincent turned his gaze upward. "Nothing yet, but when the time comes, protect Creed at all cost."

She floated toward Vincent, her concern now apparent. "But what about you?" Jade's voice went an octave higher.

"I can protect myself. But if Creed were to try to fight back, they would demand his life, saying they were unjustly attacked."

"I see, you are a good big brother, but do you think the king would allow it?"

"No, he would not, but the council would not think twice about ending Creed's life."