Fury of the Forgotten

Ashes of the Past

The rhythmic hum of the helicopter's sharp and quick blades filled the air as Kadmiel leaned back in his seat. His eyes were closed, but his mind racing. He had been humming a silent melody to himself while he was lost in thought. 

   The mission had been successful. Kelita was safe, and the auction house was nothing but rubble. 

   He should feel a sense of relief and joy, but instead the news from his sister about Leah weighed heavily on him.

  "Two children..." he signed and whispered to himself, letting the reality sink in, the air seemed cold.

   He was a father. He had not seen Leah in years, since the incident took place, and now she carried not just one child, but two of his children.

   Beside him, Kelita shifted in her seat. "It shocked me too," she said softly as if she had been reading his thoughts all these while, breaking the silence. 

   She glanced over at her brother, staring at his calm but obviously overthinking behavior, her face pale but calm, the trauma of her own ordeal at the auction house beginning to fade. 

   "Leah... she has been through a lot since you left you know, Kadmiel. She refused to betray you after everything, even when her family kept pressuring her to seek compensation from ours after...well…you know…everything. 

   They threw her out right after that." Kadmiel's eyes shot open, focusing on his sister’s pale face during her explanation. 

    "Expelled? Sorry… disowned?" he asked, anger and guilt flooding him all at once. Kelita nodded.

    "Her family wanted to make an example of her. She has been living in terrible conditions ever since, trying to make ends meet. Feeding hand to mouth since then, it really has not been easy for her. 

    She did not have anyone else to turn to. She is hurt, big bro. She’s been hurting ever since you left for the military. She thought... you had abandoned her.”

   The words struck him like a blow on his chest. Kadmiel clenched his fists, his heart heavy with pain and regret. A new round of hatred for the four great families seemed to restart in his mind. 

    He had joined the military to protect those he loved, to destroy the enemies that threatened his family and future, to make sure those that set him up were brought to face the full wrath of the law. 

   But in doing so, he had left Leah behind, alone and vulnerable.

    Phoenix, sitting across from him, noticed the change in Kadmiel’s expression. She shot a concerned glance at Kelita, but she shook her head subtly, signaling her not to interfere.

   “She rejected me when I tried to see her, Kadmiel," Kelita continued, her voice steady. "I wanted to meet the children, but she would not let me near them or even into her house. 

   She is scared, and I do not blame her. What happened with her family... with you... it broke her.”

   Kadmiel was silent for a long moment, his mind replaying the years of conflict, duty, and loss.

   He had fought to save his family, but in the process, he had destroyed a woman’s life, a woman he cared about. A woman who helped him escape the shackles of condemnation. 

   And now there were two innocent lives caught in the middle of this mess."I would go to her later," he said finally, his voice firm.

   "She deserves to hear the truth. And I will make things right, for her and for the children.

   “Kelita smiled weakly, her relief tangible. "Iam quite sure she will listen... eventually."

   The helicopter began to descend, signaling their return to base. But for Kadmiel, his thoughts left him restless, he had not realised it was time to alight from the helicopter till Phoenix shook him and he recovered from his little trance. 

***Meanwhile, at Kadmiel's exquisite family estate***

  

   The grand halls of the estate echoed with an undisturbed silence. 

   Dust floated in the sunbeams as they were streaming through the windows, the once thriving heart of the family now a hollow shell of its former glory.

   Lincoln Craig stood in the doorway, his eyes scanning the vast expanse of the mansion with a mixture of greed, pain and disgust.

   "So this is what is left of the once great Watson family," he muttered and sighed, stepping inside. Behind him, a group of men, most who were former allies turned traitors, followed him with anticipation, their eyes gleaming at the thought of the wealth hidden within these walls.

   Lincoln sneered as his boots echoed against the marble floor. "I served this family for years," he spat. 

   "And what did I get in return? Nothing. Their power is gone now and not just their power, they are equally gone, and it’s time for me to take what I am owed.”

   From the shadows, the family butler, an elderly man named Bartholomew, emerged. 

   His weathered face was filled with a mixture of sorrow and determination as he stepped forward to confront Lincoln and the intruders. 

   "Mr. Craig," he said, his voice trembling but resolute, "you served Kadmiel’s father loyally for so many years, both of you go way back. You loved Kadmiel so much. 

    How could you betray them like this?"Lincoln chuckled darkly. "Loyalty is a thing of the past, old man. The Watson family’s power died along with their parents.

  Now it is every man for himself, you can join me Bartholomew." Bartholomew’s heart ached at the sight of Lincoln’s betrayal. 

  He had watched Lincoln rise through the social and financial ladder under the command of Kadmiel’s father, a trusted and wealthy businessman, a man of honor.

  Now, he stood here, ready to strip the family of everything they had left.

  "I owe Mr Paul Watson my life and everything I have," Bartholomew said quietly, his hands trembling as he gripped the hem of his jacket. 

   "I will not stand here and watch you do this."Lincoln sneered, gesturing to his men. "Search the place. Take anything of value." 

   The group dispersed through the house, their footsteps echoing as they began to ransack the rooms, pulling large paintings off walls, smashing open cabinets, and emptying drawers.

    Priceless artifacts, family heirlooms, all were thrown into their large sacks recklessly.

    Bartholomew followed Lincoln into the drawing room whilst still seriously begging, where the traitor was admiring a painting of Kadmiel’s parents, proud, elegant, and regal, a reminder of the legacy they had built.

    A picture of Kelita, hung beside the family picture, her smooth and elegant skin stood out, very demure, very cutesy.

    "Think of what you are doing, Mr. Craig," Bartholomew pleaded, his voice more desperate than it was before. 

    "These are sacred items of the Watson family. You cannot and should not take them.”

   Lincoln turned and faced the direction of Bartholomew, his eyes narrowing. 

   "I am done thinking, Bartholomew. I have spent years being the obedient servant, following orders, like I was a slave or something. 

   Now it is my turn to reap the benefits of my labour. The family is dead, and soon, their legacy will be forgotten.”

  Bartholomew shook his head in disbelief. "You will regret this. You will never find peace after what you have decided to do today."

   Lincoln laughed, a cold, bitter sound. "Peace? I am not interested in peace. I am interested in power, riches and wealth."

    Suddenly, one of the men burst into the room, panting and holding a small chest in his hands. "Sir, we found this in the master’s study," he said, handing it over to Lincoln.

   Lincoln’s eyes lit up as he opened the chest, revealing a collection of ancient jewelry, expensive gold coins, and scrolls, treasures that had been passed down through the Watson family for generations.

   “This will do nicely," he muttered, greed shining brightly in his eyes. 

   Then, as if struck by a quick and sudden thought, he turned to Bartholomew, his expression darkening.

    "Burn it, burn it all down.” Bartholomew’s eyes widened in horror.

    "No! You can’t, "Lincoln’s gaze hardened, his face meaner now. "I can. And I will and you can watch me do it."

   The men began to spread gasoline around the room, soaking the furniture, the curtains, the floors. They went down the stairs and kept pouring the liquid onto the marbled floor of the apartment. 

   Bartholomew ran forward, desperate to make it stop, he had tears in his eyes, he quickly grabbed Lincoln by the arm.   

    "Please! Do not destroy this house! Your hatred is with the family, not their legacy. Spare this place! What if Kadmiel comes back? What if Kelita does too? Where will they live? Do not do this Lincoln." 

    But Lincoln only shrugged him off. "It is all the same to me, and I do not care if their offsprings decide to show their miserable faces in this town."

   As the first flame caught, licking up the edge of the drapes, Bartholomew fell to his knees, watching helplessly as the home he had sworn to protect start going up in flames.