Spiral of events Family connections

"Where are they, Monett?" Sizzler huffed.

"The Temple of Salvation—they went to rescue Vincent's brother. You were missing that day in the King's Court, mourning the absence of your precious Jade."

"Good then." He smiled, revealing his dragged-yellow teeth. "We can take out all sorts of trash."

Monett reveled in the moment. "On to the blade maker then."

"Why?" Sizzler questioned her, his impatience beginning to show.

"Nards are highly allergic to crystallized salt weapons. They turn to stone on contact," Monett sighed, forgetting about her child. "Creed is half-Nard."

Sizzler lit up with approval. "I never knew that. If it was such a well-known fact then, why didn't they just take a bag of this crystallized salt and sprinkle it on the entire herd?"

"It is too expensive to make. You have to combine the salt with rare pink and sea-green crystals from the Nard caverns. The supply is basically nonexistent. Only the best blade makers were given a set amount of each."

"So what does this crystallized weapon have to do with our plans? This is the first I've heard of this."

Monett held her eyes forward as she began to walk through the dense forestation. "Again, you were too busy missing Jade to do anything else. We are going to use it on Creed. I thought that could have been logically deduced by you," Monett sneered. "Or are you still clouded?"

"But those things are worthless. If you swing too hard and miss, there goes your chance." Sizzler shrugged.

"Not really, not in our case. I will be up close and personal, pushing it into his stomach!"

"Then that would be all it would be good for. The blade would dissolve into nothing. It's nothing more than a pretty decoration. So why did you waste so much money?"

Monett continued walking ahead, pushing newly-formed tree branches out of her way.

Sizzler silently walked behind her, lost in his own thoughts, slowly realizing something was missing in his life—something that had invigorated him, that kept his mind busy. He thought about how good it felt to love something other than himself. How good it felt to feel something other than hate. All of his life he had hated. All of his life he had followed others, never really caring about the situations or where he was sent. All of his life he only knew violence and rage. Love was never part of it. So actually being able to feel something different for a while was a refreshing twist.

Monett focused ahead and began to think back seven years, to her foolish mistakes and the corrections she had made. Stopping for a moment, she grabbed a newly-formed branch that nearly collided with her face. She glared at it, studying it.

Sizzler paused, rolling his eyes at her actions.

Monett gripped the branch tighter, tugging and forcefully pulling it toward her. The tree itself seemed to sink back at her actions. She ripped the branch off, revealing a cleared area with a pathway.

As she walked down the familiar pathway, it mentally gripped her, forcing her to reminisce. The scenes that played in her mind began to make her feel violently ill. The memory was in no way congruent with the area she was in.

The memory took place outside Vincent's domain here on Casalynn. Vincent called to her. His quiet voice sounded unusually loud. She almost walked passed, trying to ignore him, but she saw her sister there. She could still feel the disgust she felt watching Creed leaning on Mininna. He was only a child then, no more than nine.

She remembered how gently Vincent smiled at her, as he beckoned her closer. "Come here, Monett. This is my friend, Terrence."

"Your only friend, you mean," Terrence spoke up, his voice like silken honey.

Monett studied the male to her left. A small thrill of excitement shivered through her body. Her stare lingered on him--his naturally red eyes, darker complexion, and such a strong demeanor.

Mininna looked seriously between Vincent and Terrence. "You are bad for each other's health." She wrapped her arms around Creed, giving him a gentle squeeze.

"If you need any information, just ask him," Vincent spoke, drifting his attention to her sister.

Monett recalled the way that Terrence looked at her, his red eyes almost glowing the danger that lurked inside and made her feel alive.

"Date me." Those were the first words out of her mouth toward him. Such stupid words and only a few months later her darling Yin was forged, and Terrence had to leave for another mission. She shook him and begged him to stay. She said she had something to tell him. Terrence just shook his head, grandly stating that it was his duty to the king.

Duty, ha, she remembered saying to herself. So she decided he could leave. "Go ahead and go, but we are done!"

He smiled at her, merely saying he understood. Then he left her. For a few hours afterward, she remained in shock. How could he just leave her? How could it have ended just like that?

She wandered the streets that night. That's when she met Siphon. He was walking with his guards. She flung her drunken self onto him and not so subtly demanded that he should sleep with her.

Siphon's guards tried to get her away from him, but she was too close. He firmly wrapped his arms around her and took her somewhere more private. Monett told him that she was pregnant by another man. He took her hands in his. Siphon said to her that he would help with her family. Siphon told her that he would make her the new queen. She took him as her husband in private. Together, in secret, they raised Yin. But on the surface, she was a single parent.

Monett's vivid thoughts began to trail off. That is how most of this started, she thought, but it is in the past now and needs to stay there.

"Hey!" Sizzler spoke up, bringing Monett completely back to the present. "Shouldn't we be turning left? If we just keep going straight, we will end up in another forested area."

"Yes," she huffed, suddenly smiling. They turned down a deserted street. "Do you know this is the street where Creed's mother was killed?"

Sizzler shrugged indifferently replying, "I know this is the street where Alabaster lost control. He killed twenty-three Casalyians for killing his wife."

"And that was just the first step in destroying the Angelus's world." A chilly laugh left Monett's lips. Darkly amused, she continued, "His wife was so dumb to defend Creed. She should have left him out to dry."

Sizzler snorted, after which he laughed full-force. "Like you left Yin!"

"I did not!" Monett's eyes blazed. "I left her with Lance. That bloody fool! I might actually get rid of him this time," she hissed.

"I heard Creed's mother, Cassiette, had covered him with her body, while they pelted her with metal alloy rocks. Some even say she ran down the street as soon as they started, eager to cover him, to protect him.

They say she kept apologizing to Creed because he was hurt. Why would she do that I wonder?" Monett momentarily stopped, contemplating the thought.

Sizzler listened to Monett intently, as she resumed her story. "I had an even bigger laugh when I heard his father, Alabaster, came. He tried to get the stoners to stop. But by the time he finally managed that, he could see his wife was already dead, and he turned on the mob.

"Vincent futilely tried to stop his father. He managed to pull Creed out from under Cassiette's bloody and lifeless body. Creed reached out to Alabaster, crying 'Daddy, stop!'

"There are anomalies though," she continued. "It seems different people remember the events differently. I even read the official report. The thing I found interesting, the report stated Creed screamed at Vincent to stop Alabaster. It stated Creed was blindfolded as soon as his father started attacking the stoners. Some of the knights said Creed's arm was outstretched as Vincent clung to him, holding him back. The blindfold slipped when the knights pinned Alabaster to the ground."

Monett and Sizzler turned right and started walking again.

"Can you believe he allowed Creed to call him father, Sizzler?" Monett suddenly stopped at the door with a faded sign above it. The faded sign had a circle with an emblem of a sword. Around the edges of the circle was faded lettering you could barely read. If you were to look close enough, it would say Angelus Weaponry. The door barely hung, almost off the hinges. Monett gently opened it, gripping the side to keep it from falling. When she stepped slightly forward, Monett quickly realized the place was a death trap. Metal dangled down from the ceiling. The floor beneath their feet creaked and groaned.

Sizzler stayed close behind her, as metal debris started to fall down without warning, crashing to the floor. Monett and Sizzler both jumped back. "We are not laughing now are we?" Sizzler mumbled as they eased their way around the sharp metal shards, then tiptoed toward the back of the seemingly abandoned house.

Before they made it to the back completely, another door blocked their path. Monett pushed it slightly open, revealing a large room lit only by the glow of a blacksmith's fire. She glanced to the floor, quickly assessing the objects that littered it. Precious metals, crystals of salt and gems were scattered haphazardly. She raised her eyes, scanning the rest of the area. On the shelves were rocks and coals considered too valuable to be used. A massive forge occupied the center of the room with the blade master himself, forging away. Sounds of clanging, banging, and the hissing of water kept repeating.

Monett opened the door wider, accidentally knocking over a helmet and sending it crashing to the floor. Upon hearing that final conspicuous sound, the blade maker stopped his work. He listened momentarily, then turned to face whoever dared to disturb his work. The blade maker looked accusingly at Monett standing in his doorway.

More than annoyed, he slammed his hammer down, entirely missing the current project. Red-faced from his growing anger, he stomped over to Monett. He let out an angry growl and then yelled, "Are you diseased in the head or something! I told you not to come here! Do you want to ruin my business?"

"Hello, Tank Angelus. Long time, no see. From the looks of it, what business?" Monett clenched her teeth firmly together and stood her ground.

"What!" Tank wielded on Sizzler, noticing the sneaky man eyeing him from behind Monett.

Sizzler gawked at Tank, wondering where he fit in with the Angelus family. He was a hulk of a man with bulging arms and a huge gut. Dirt and grime weighed down his unkempt mustache. Salt prickles dangled off the ends of his naturally orange beard and intermingled to form white stripes throughout it.

"I want my blade!" Monett demanded swiftly.

"Aha," Tank snorted. "You mean the blade you contacted me to make?" Tank folded his arms and stood belligerently before her. "It is not your blade. It is mine until it leaves my possession."

"You know what I mean!" Monett snarled, beginning to circle around him.

Tank huffed. "I also asked you and your diseased brain not to step a foot in here."

"What business besides me do you have?" Monett shrieked, looking around the decimated building.

"I am the only blade maker in Casalynn."

"You are not the only one!" Monett rebutted.

Sizzler glanced between the two of them before shrugging.

"The only good one!" Tank corrected himself.

"The blade!" she demanded again. Her right foot tapped rapidly as she held out her hand.

Tank gruffly walked away, heading out of his main forge room to a smaller side room. Monett followed him closely. She was immediately surprised at what she saw. It wasn't like the forge out front. This one was cleaner. The room also wasn't in disrepair. The floor sparkled a light diamond blue, and the ceiling mimicked the shine. The only dirty place was the forging table, covered in salt. Her eyes quickly slid over to the small forge. The flames burned between orange, red and blue, jumping out and then quickly receding. The pit itself seemed to spit out chunks of crystal.

Tank suddenly yanked a table from the middle of the pit, displaying a blade. It was Himalayan pink with sprinkles of sea-green in it. The sparkling blade glowed up to the silver hilt. The hilt had an etching depicting a stabbing with the victim turned to stone.

Monett gazed in stunned silence. The masterful blade held her attention. She drew in a long, deep breath.

Tank nodded in approval, gazing upon his masterpiece.

Sizzler walked into the room, giving an annoyed look at the craftsman. Then he caught sight of the blade. "It will only be good for one stab. Why spend so much money?"

"No," Monett replied. "This one is special. It is good for four stabs, and on the fourth stab, it dissipates into the bloodstream.

Tank carefully picked up the blade by the hilt. The hot metal burned his flesh as he submerged it in water. Tank winced, bringing it back up. He carefully handed the blade to Monett.

Monett jumped back quickly and took the blade. She almost knocked into Sizzler, who managed an ungraceful stumble to avoid her.

Monett held out her hand, calling out, "Electrodeath!" She seemed to purr in satisfaction as purple static charges collected at the end of her fingertips. The electric charges then shot from her fingers like lightning bolts.

Tank's eyes widened as the electric charges flashed around his domain. He reacted quickly for a man his size, pushing his forging table on its side. The salted surface of the table faced Monett.

She laughed almost maniacally, ending the electrodeath ability. While still holding up the same hand, she called out "Flame Embrace!" Her hand began to glisten like flames. Her fingertips twisted and intertwined like a lit fire. She unleashed it, shoving her entire hand forward. Monett and Sizzler then took off. The metal quickly began to heat up and burn the domain. The fallen debris from earlier started to quiver.

Tank knew he had to act quickly. He yanked weapons from the wall. One was a blade that shined from the tip to the hilt. Tank took one last look at his domain. It could not hold up to the flames. Then he grabbed a bag beside the wall and yanked a shiny chain with three spiked balls at the end. He closed his eyes and envisioned the alley behind his domain. In a rough, tired voice, he called out "Relocation!"

At once, he appeared in the back alley of his domain. He pushed most of his ancient energy into one word "Griffen!" After he spoke, a small black hole started to form, and then it propagated, spreading against the heated metal. Blue sparks spilled out from the hole as an image began to manifest. The first aspect of the creature was its face, resembling a female's face with an oddly-obscured beak. Next came its bird-shaped body, as talons hit the smooth surface of the alley.

Falling to his knees, Tank dropped the weapons bag before his creature. He turned his head down as he heard the domain collapse from the inside out. "This place is all I have ever known. It was all I had left." Tears fell one by one, trailing into his massive beard. Tank's hands touched the metal surface of Casalynn where his old life used to be. He shakily spoke, talking to no one, "After they took my son away, I cast out my only connection to his side of the family. I treated that little lad wrong, and Vincent never forgave me. I need this one last chance, even if it means the only one who forgives me is me."

Griffen cocked her head, trying to decipher the order. "What would you like me to do, Master?"

Tank stood up with renewed determination. He picked up the weapons bag and held it out to her. "Bite me," he ordered her.

"But why, Master?" Griffen questioned, hesitating to obey.

"So you can find my bloodline and give them these."

"But what about you?"

"I do not matter, but my grandchildren do. What I did is unthinkable. I made a weapon to harm my own grandchildren."

"But he is not from your child."

"I thought that way, too, and look where it got me—nowhere and alone. I have no one to share my history, my future, or even my present. I have no family anymore."

"What do you intend to do?" Griffen questioned Tank, still wavering on accepting his orders.

"Fight!" Tank stated. "I am going after them."

"But you will die!" Griffen roared in rage. "They are in their prime."

"It is the least I can do for them." Tank mumbled. "This old man is not worth much."

Griffen sighed, reluctantly biting her master. Once she had a taste of him, she could pinpoint the location of his descendants. Griffen opened her wings, creating a portal the size of her four feet. The portal stretched, swallowing half her body.

"You know I would say come along, Master, but I see you have made up your mind." She finally took the bag from his hand, allowing the portal to swallow her and disappear.

Tank stared after her, and then he grabbed a trash can lid from the alley and headed to the front of his once beloved, now mistreated home.

Other Casalyians had gathered at the front of his domain, wordlessly trying to put the flames out. Every Casalyian knew the situation. They all thought long and hard against their traditions that have lasted a thousand or more years.

Tank quietly said, "Thank you. I need to go."