Zeidan Bran eyed the heavy metal door with locks before him. He hadn't wanted to involve the Onyx in the war but as bloody as this is getting, it's high time he does. Or maybe keep it in a safe place. A safe place like South Park. But can he trust Styx enough to give him all the Onyx? What if he refuses to return it? He touched the knob and thought of how his father had given him access to the room and treasure. 

Punching in the passcode, he pushed the door and went in, a blast of green light flashing against his face. He looked around the ancient building room, pushing dark brown hair off his face. What kind of strategy could be created to wade off the war without these beautiful stones? Would he have to invite Arthur? 

"Can we talk about the fact that you promised my Dad part of the stones but haven't fulfilled your part of the promise?"

Zeidan smiled before turning his head slightly to see his golden-haired wife, looking at him from the entrance. She was wearing a polka-dotted knee-length blue gown. She looked faint and weary.

"Queen Lyne, how art thou?" He asked, smiling pleasantly.

She smiled back. She was looking so much like she hadn't been sleeping for days now. He should have tried harder in ensuring she wasn't involved in the war. However, the Lyne he knows is unstoppable, and therefore trying to stop her is useless.

"Yes? I was on a stroll when I saw you enter this place." She said.

"Just needed to think about everything. The war, the baby, our future, and keeping our heritage safe." He said, going over to the standing pillar where a straight beam of green light escaped through the roof. "I'm wondering if it will be safe in South Park."

"Well, you can't tell, if you don't try. If the Onyx is with my dad, capturing it will be more difficult for the Werecat." She strode in quickly and closed the door behind her. She was pale and wane, obviously still feeling the after-effects of the war she fought.

"Are you all right?" He asked, frowning.

"Yes, I'm good, thanks." She said, coming closer to his side and staring into the light.

"It's beautiful."

Lyne was right. The stone was a golf ball-sized but split on the head in four places, which means it can be separated. It glowed so brightly that the light filled the room. Where it was, the pillar was rocky and like it had been placed there by nature itself rather than being installed by the people.

"I guess that's why the Werecats want it so bad. Its beauty and power are worth fighting over. I've never really summoned it myself, but I really do hope it doesn't get to that." He confided.

"What happens if you use it?" She asked with keen interest, looking up at him.

"My dear, it is going to be bloody. Father used it one time in my presence." He didn't want to talk about it thinking of what had happened when he was twelve. He looked to his side at the pretty woman beside him. He felt comfortable and he knew he could trust her. Until their marriage a few months back, he had thought trusting people was history. By the way, they had both lived together, it was obvious she thought the same.

Lyne slid her arms around his, resting her head against it. Back in Los Angeles, he had come across different women, none of which he had felt this way with. When he had gone to South Jungle and had collided with her, he could see a different woman. She'd been slender and poised and pretty enough to draw any man's eyes. Including his. 

Now, she looked prettier with a touch of paleness and tiredness. Her blonde hair was brittle and lusterless, and her blue eyes were growing deeper, without their old sparkle. She looked beautiful with the change but what's more beautiful is her becoming a mother. 

"Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?" She asked gently. 

"You look like you could use a listener."

"I'm just a little traumatized, that's all." He replied softly. "I'm only trying to remember those days."

"I guess I was right, then," Lyne muttered. She rubbed his biceps with her thumb, soothing him. "Well, you've got a listener. Go on."

"You see, when I was twelve," he looked back at the stone, images clicking in his head.

His father's face came up on the war field with some men trying to take him away from Vampire City. It had been a fight against the Werecats too and that was the first time he'd seen Shelbrooke.

It was night, the moon visible in the sky, and the field was filled with clanks of metallic objects hitting against one another. Black cloaks and striped furs were flying all over. The green fields were all full of one clan against the other and his father was upfront. Twelve years old Zeidan was wearing a thick black coat and a hat and was made to mount a horse. He was confused as they took him past a tunnel, dark and haunting. 

"Where are you taking me?!" He yelled but he felt a strong hand covering his mouth and carrying him under his arm.

He kept muffling and struggling with them until they were out in the mountains. A man riding a black stallion and carrying firewood walked up to them with a stern face. It was Wikh.

"Make sure you take him out of the City, probably on to the human city. Just make sure he comes nowhere near here."

He ordered and the rest of the men chorused a 'yessir'. Like lightning, they rode off on the city mountain that night but he was able to get a glimpse of what was going on as the mountain was overlooking the field. It was all dark and it felt like nothing was moving for a moment that Zeidan squinted his eyes to try and catch a glimpse. However, there came a loud booming sound, and a bright flash of light went over the city including the mountain where they were riding. The energy was so strong it pushed them all off the ground like a whirlwind. Zeidan couldn't tell what was going on but he knew he hit his neck on a tree and passed out. 

By the time he would wake up that morning, he was met with a stench of dry blood, rotten bodies, and perching flies. He rose and looked around him. The guards who had been going with him had all died, apparently from the green blast. A tear rolled out of his eyes as he went back to the palace, conscious of a blood clot at the back of his neck. The only person that filled his mind was his father.

"Dad!" He yelled as he ran back, barefooted.

Snapping back to reality, he noticed his eyes were getting all glassy as he remembered. His Dad had been alive but they lost a great number of men.