By: M Monroe Casey
Part One
Fourteen feet simultaneously landed on the ground, across two different worlds in the Cosmos. Two different instances in time but on the same stream of existence that they all knew and comprehended together.
For now.
With the six goddesses hurrying into the Luisa’s house on the mission to get her ready for the dance in 2022, the Windowsill’s main focus followed them. The recording function on the Pyroclastian Southern Hills noticed a change to a file though and began to re-record once more. The year was 1666. The other pair of armor-clad boots that landed in that instant were on the move now too. For he was the mysterious sixth soul to wish during the Abby-Addison “Giggles” Dawson’s ripple effect. Baleigh, Heldum and KJ wished for a good night, Delanie wished to see Harold once more and he wished something too.
One more chance to never be forgotten again.
As he walked through the golden grasslands, heading south, Marche Tadala looked across it all. The simplistic peacefulness of a time long past. One unaware of the fortunes and misfortunes to come. His midnight-shaded black armor stood out in the stark contrast to the bright landscape and blistering sun above. His relatively short form proceeded on as his chain and clamp was still fashioned to his left wrist. His main weapon of choice in combat, he would use it to hook onto opponents or objects and then let gravity or his own fists deliver the pain.
All of it, their conquest, seemed so distant now. Sure, it all happened years ago before their combined untimely dethroning by his own son, Augustin Tadala and of course, CJ. But it still haunted him every day. The things he did. The things he saw. He became a monster and he couldn’t just move on.
It sure seemed like the others could easily though.
Following the repair to the family at war, Augustin and his love Quirlain got married and began a family. Far away from him. Hagro and Liahuk did the same. Bnonoa went to his own world to live with his skeletal brethren, leading them to an age of prosperity despite their unified genetic disease. It seemed to work out for everyone. Everyone but him. Of course, it was his own fault and he knew it. He self-sabotaged himself into this point and he knew it. But it didn’t have to stay that way. Not anymore.
Left in an old family hut in the Southern Hills of Pyroclastia, he couldn’t even lead the nation now because the governmental change forbade a Tadala from leading, due to their history of infighting. He was left literally and completely without options. Only to sit and wallow in his mistakes and misery. Forever writing in his dream journal about Walter, Evander and the others.
It continued on like this until the War of the Goddesses gave him exactly what he needed and when he stepped fully into the fairly small cave in the Frozen Southern Lands, he set his eyes upon Objective Number One. The first step to make sure he didn’t waste this second chance.
With a smirk under the helmet, the Silent Tadala grabbed the hilt of the super-sword, Freezecry and effortlessly pulled it from the ice that it was stabbed into. Feeling a surge of energy across his own body, he made another wish then. Unlike the other users of the super-swords of the past, he didn’t make his one wish to never die while he used this sword. Instead, he merely wished for Pyroclastia’s rewrite to be contained. Like a theoretical shell. Only to rewrite their own history, not to affect the rest of the Cosmos. It was a wish that came with a plan because this sword was merely the beginning for him. Nothing would be the same again. He was a changed man and it was time to prove it once and for all.
Arriving at the resting place of this ancient and otherworldly relic before its earliest mentions in history, he could win the race to it before it would have eventually been found, moved up north and then ended up in the hands of Albert, Robert, Big Tom and those other explorers from Earth. Now, it was time to take care of one more smaller detail in this current year. One soul he always wanted to slap around. Sure, it wasn’t super important overall and he could leave here with his new travel magic undetected… but… this could be a fun way to test his new toy.
Stepping outside of the cave and surveying the land ahead once more, he could see the Royal Castle in the distance as he tightly gripped his new friend. Its snowfall-white shade provided even more stark contrasts to his dark armor. His brown eyes sized up the massive castle gate ahead. Standing as the only thing between him and Objective Number Two.
Part Two
CJ and Monica Dancer sat on Mt. Couch blissfully unaware, much like everyone else, of Marche Tadala’s progressive breaking of the time-space continuum. Four eyes of theirs watched on as their favorite Canadian teenager was preparing for one of the biggest nights of her life so far with the help of five of her newest friends.
Standing in front of the mirror in a dark blue dress with a slightly lighter dark blue pair of flats and her brunette hair fully down, Baleigh looked back at herself in bewilderment. Eyes not matching the smile.
What felt like only a few months prior, she was in this same room. Alone. Wishing for more friends. Wishing she could finally take off the mask of the “happy girl.” Now, she had four best friends, a group of five that she shared an ancient kinship with and a small army of supporters that literally fought by her side. While Heldum and KJ played with the others downstairs, it was only the six of them together.
Getting the honorary invite to the dance too, they all simultaneously got ready for the festivities ahead. Each of them wearing the most stereotypical colored dress that they could possibly wear in that situation. Conveniently borrowed by the very generous Luisa family.
Black for Delanie, brown for Lenna-Anna, rainbow for Nathaly, green for Jessica and red for Vittoria. Each with matching flats and as Lenna-Anna Nicole put on hers, she felt a shudder across the pulsating aura of her power. With the powers sensing and molding the aura of herself and others, she could feel a massive change in one powerful soul’s aura. Muttering to her childlike self, the comment across the Windowsill caused the Timeless Couple to look at each other for one brief second of concern.
“Weird… I felt a change in someone’s aura in Pyroclastia… but in the past? Huh… probably nothing though. Must just be something catching up to me…”
Slipping on her right foot flat, the group finished applying their makeup then descended the stairs one by one. With the Star of the show coming last.
Stepping into the room while the whole of them surrounded her with comments and hugs, the entire group began to walk with them down the street. Deciding to invite everyone with her “you saved the world so you can invite whomever you wish this time,” rule, they all went together.
An eclectic and well-dressed group led by herself, Nathaly and the others, Baleigh looked around at them all. Including her parents, Heldum, KJ, Aunt Stephanie, Tiff, Kyle, Naj, Jack, James Sionwonie, Smooth Stone, Roget Merlot, Rashid, Amaia, Dmitria, Habibi, Quinn, Tom Bradley, June Seventh, The Living Pine Tree of Kuala Lumpur, Count Oliver, G.P.S., The Witch of the Mountain, The Living Marble Fountain of Florence, Bobby Saya What? and Anna-Alice “Lantern” Johnson. They moved as a unit.
Since they all basically just followed her around now, her parents decided to draw the line at only this weekend. Then, her massive group of twenty-seven or so friends and teammates needed to go. Saving existence itself is one thing but she really needed to study for her literature exam too. With her crew agreeing to just stay then before they returned to their various lives, they quickly moved the short distance to the school in the brisk December air.
Interrupting the triumphant scene of the Windowsill with a comment, Monica asked the burning question on her mind as she paused it.
“Wait… do you remember the last names for like some of these people? Or like anything major about them?”
“Nah. I mean, no offense to them but does it really matter?”
“Same here. And nah. Just curious.”
“Cool. Continue?”
“Yeah.”
Finishing their short march in weather that the brown-smock-wearing Witch of the Mountain described with her “I’m cold” cackle, Baleigh’s sky-blue nails reached for and grabbed the front door. Holding the door for them all, she waited as they entered. One by one. With each passing second while she did this nice act, the Cosmos was becoming even more balanced. With a soul in Calgary finally getting to see all her hard work of believing in people and love come to fruition, another one stepped through the shattered remnants of the white stone gate with two fists aching to break even more stuff.
Part Three
Marche’s powerful form crushed its way through another stone wall as he progressed virtually unchallenged. Only slowing down to make sure he didn’t kill them when a different soul stood in his way. Only knock back, to the side or around in any which way but these men didn’t deserve to die. No one did in his wrecking path. Only reminded just what massive mistake they made by ever forgetting him.
No one on any timeline knew exactly why he was doing this. Why he happily proceeded to keep shattering the reality of space and time that they all know and love. Sure, he was doing this for slightly selfish reasons but he could make some real lasting change for the others. Not just him and her. Not only for his true love. With a smirk, the inner monologue was wrapping up and he was beginning to summarize what happened less in his own psyche. He didn’t have to sell himself to this path anymore, he was going to do this. Then without hesitation, he launched his large clamp on the thick metal chain at the closest large boulder and proceeded to toss it at the next gate as he himself quickly followed. Midnight-Black boots kicked it down too without much effort as King Shata’s foot soldiers fell before the time-traveling vigilante. All the while, his skeletal brother in the future could sense something truly angering.
Feeling a shaking tremor rip across the whole of his bone world, Bnonoa Tadala knew something very wrong was happening, far away and long ago. Living within a pocket dimension of his own homeworld, Pyroclastia, it seems that Marche’s rewrite was beginning to affect even more than just what he wished for as Bnonoa walked over to the ledge and looked off into the smokey distance. Angrily muttering to himself, one name and one extra word exited his would-be vocal chords.
“Marche… why…”
But like all timeline breakers, he continued on despite the enemies he was making. Raising an armor-clad knee into the air, the foot on that leg proceeded to connect with the chest of one opponent, tossing him far away into the distance. Conveniently smashing a hole in the next door, he followed and was found stepping into a hallway of over two hundred guards.
Within the continuation of a few minutes as the emergency bells rang, he cleaned out the small and narrow space with plenty of bodies smashing holes through the walls in the process, recounting why he was doing this little fun side quest. Throughout the history of their family, one name was usually identified as the “fall from grace,” and what put them on their “infighting cursed” path. Shata Tadala. Or a being later known as Dark King Shata of the Hellfire Inferno.
As a long gone ancestor of Hagro and others and a member of their ”pure Pyroclastian” roots, Shata was also the one who decided that their legacy wasn’t “unforgettable enough” and wanted to extend it. Forever. Trapped in what the past used to be for them all. Unable to live in their new present. A present that Marche only wanted to change now.
With an obsession over the Planet-Killing legend of Tadala, the same black-scaled space monster that later befriended a being known as CJ, he changed their familial name to honor it and began to research methods of how they could destroy their own planet as a sacrifice using a magic gifted from the Dark Collossi gods. By doing this, it would allow the members of his family to be reborn as zombie lesser gods. Only with the cost of everyone else.
Discovering this plot and betrayal from their friend, Sixzy the Lightning and Shynie the Granite stopped him but at a great cost of their own lives. As all three fell, Shata’s pregnant wife gave birth to twins, one boy and one girl. One girl who would later marry a one Quiet Timmy from Earth. Continuing their “cursed” legacy and with this new addition to the complex puzzle, the Tadala’s infighting continued all the way to the times that Marche remembered all too well.
Events which Monica once breezed through in her mocha-induced summary session, unknown to Marche and all within Pyroclastia.
The Fall of King Udo.
A rebellion in which he himself played a pivotal role.
For he was the one who fell his own brother.
On top that, it got worse.
Accidentally hurting the woman he loved too, he was lost in his own past, anger and confusion. Unable to see just what he had. Losing himself and it all on that fateful day in 1982. Destroying it all then, for now, but it wasn’t too late to change it with Freezecry on his side and one more chance. Show them all just who Marche Tadala really is.
Relaunching his clamp into the dark wooden door itself, he one-arm heaved it right off its hinges and with his new racket, he smashed it into the last door of the Royal Castle’s Grand Entrance. Stepping into the King’s Chambers and not wasting a precious second, he clamped onto the nearest ten-meter pillar and aggressively threw it into the turned back of his ancestor.
Part Four
Baleigh finished hugging Rashid after he finished his sound wisdom. Offering her a point that she could maybe continue this goddess path throughout the Cosmos, she could protect those who need it from injustice and harm. Hugging his whole family as they were the first to leave the slowly waning down party, she thanked them for their advice. Gazing across the room, she saw each group split up. A phenomenon that used to bother her so much.
In their separate cliques, they could judge her. Each saying their separate comments against her. That’s how she used to see it. But now, she saw it just for what it was. Friends in their communities and as she mingled amongst them all, it was more and more clear. They were just people who prefer to understand the world in many different ways and like to discuss that with people of the same understanding. Most of it is not better or worse, just different. Stepping over to the group of the Roommates of the Count, she got their advice on her future then.
With all the changes of the last year or so, she had reached a point where their advice were becoming less desired and even more important as she barely even recognized herself anymore. Feeling like she changed so much. Should she return to what she knew but better or forge a new path? A question she asked them all.
Receiving the advice with open-minded ears from the Roommates as a whole collective, they then went off too. Preparing for their next Americas tour of Cucumber the Pickle. Little KJ and Heldum quickly followed them, accompanied by their babysitters, Naj, Tiff, Kyle and Jack.
Hugging Aunt Stephanie as she went next, she brought the score back to near even towards the decision of “go forge a new path,” making the overall choice that much harder. Her parents suggested the opposite, not to her surprise. Not wanting to see their little girl go off to some far away planet in search of justice and adventure, it was basically even now. As they all left together, to enjoy the relaxing evening of Aunt Stephanie’s visit with some wine at home, it was only her, the other five goddesses, James Sionwonie, Smooth Stone and Roget Merlot remaining.
With bass-pounding on the speakers, the last three of the group of friends departed then too. Keeping the score near even.
Leaving only the six of them to dance it up and discuss their futures.
Standing by the punch bowl, Baleigh and Delanie struck up a conversation about the topic first.
“I get why you went crazy over Harold… I just don’t want to lose what I found, you know?”
“Yeah but you won’t really lose it, Baleigh. You can’t.”
“What do you mean?”
Looking around, she could see Nathaly Queen and the others talking to her left in the emptying room as the party was officially ending.
“Think about it, your experiences shape you. You can never really lose them. As long as you hold onto your actual core, you’ll always have them with you. Never forget who you really are and never forget what you can do. Basically, just remember who you are.”
“And who am I?”
“You are one special kiddo, I can tell you that. You need to decide the rest yourself. But call me if you ever need me. You know how to find me. Just look in your history book.”
Hugging goodbye at that moment, Delanie Evelyn went home to the 1950’s but instead of walking in the cold outside like all the others, she merely held the charmed bracelet that Harold gave her on their first official date. Gifted travel abilities by their favorite High Goddess, she was able to go back to her love whenever she wished now. On the street outside the school, she was then she wasn’t. Swirled away in a whirl of snow and power.
Letting the other three finish catching up, Nathaly came over next.
“Pretty crazy, huh?” Said the Merida native Goddess of Beauty.
“What do you mean?”
“When we met, I tried to literally glass you over and then like a day later, I broke your leg and almost your neck. Now, here we are. Friends.”
“I know… Delanie and I were just talking about that. Wild.”
“But I’m so happy we did fight. You made me see. It took some hits but I got the lesson still. I’ll always cherish my time with Roberto and the memories from his friendship but I feel like it was all just an anchor to my past. I got married at a young age and he was there for me throughout. Before and then after it all fell apart. Then, my rage and obsession with it got him killed. It wasn’t until you stood up for me to CJ that I was able to see that. Thanks…”
Smiling back at her first Goddess connection, she answered, “Don’t mention it. I just did what I thought was right.”
“And you better keep on doing that, Baleigh. You can do anything so you just need to listen to your heart and follow your gut.”
“Sounds good buddy and thanks, so… what are you doing next?”
“I talked to CJ and she suggested I make a new colony for my people on a small corner of Scania. Since Rashid and you left it, the planet is just vacant and it would be perfect for that. It will take some time but I think with the peaceful nature and animals, it will be like a paradise.”
“That’s amazing! See! Didn’t I tell you? I CAN help you find a new home!”
Hugging her friend, Nathaly laughed and extended the invite to visit or request for help. Then, she went for the door next. Transporting away in a swell of wind and rainbow glitter.
Looking over at Jessica Maddy, Lenna-Anna Nicole and Vittoria Ivonee, she made eye contact with Jessica who came over next. Allowing Lenna-Anna and Vittoria to reminisce even more about their pre-cursed college years.
Entering the conversation train next, Jessica offered a story before the Star could even open her mouth.
“I can look at your face and tell. You need a story. Okay… so this is the Legend of Alma.”
“Geez… you are good at reading people… Wait… how couldn’t you tell that Delanie was just using you?”
“She had chains on her face. I need to see the face…”
“Weird. I have more questions about that but let’s have a coffee later…”
“Deal. Anyways… the story… so, Alma is a person in the Cosmos. Originally from our beautiful planet, he is the only person in the known shared history to visit all the planets. Why? He wanted to show his friend of the soul, Sol, the worlds. He promised her at the start of their friendship that he would do everything in his power to make her happy. He once made a terrible terrible mistake. He lied to her about who he was. The niceness was real but some of the information wasn’t. He was so sweet but he was scared of the past so he tried to protect his heart and this made it difficult. He apologized and all. But he then told her that he can’t promise they’ll always spend amazing time like that but he can promise that he will do everything in his power to help her be the person she wants to be. So, Alma made a few mistakes here or there, she made him hurt or Sol got hurt while she pursued her dreams too. All of those things happened. But no matter what, he was there for her and she was there for him. Fulfilling the promise. A trip to Sololi or Atala City on the Catalina Sea. A party or a long conversation. Each and every time. They stayed together throughout the years and made many progressions together. Improving their own lives and others along the way. Truly friends of the soul.”
“That’s a nice story but what does that have to do with me?”
“Isn’t it obvious? You are Alma, Baleigh. The Cosmos is Sol. No matter how much you change it or it changes you, you are there for it. You will always be that person. Protecting those who can’t protect themselves. You freed Sionwonie, Smooth Stone, Roget, etc. I say et cetera there because you literally freed every plus one you brought to this party from those roles we thought we needed. You never gave up on us.”
“Thanks… so, you think I should keep on being this Star Goddess superhero?”
“I think you already know the answer yourself. You just need to take that leap. But yeah, I think that. Be the Alma that you know you are and you know you always wanted to be.”
“You’re right… thanks!”
Hugging her blonde-haired friend as the other two approached, the four of them began walking for the door when the ten-year-old Lenna-Anna paused in her tracks. Her aura sensing power has gone fully wild now as her eyes fully glossed over in a tree-bark brown color.
Looking over at her young friend, Vittoria offered the concerned question first, “Ummm… are you okay?”
“Something… wrong… Pyroclastia… 1666…”
“1666?”
“History… rewritten… Doom… Tree… coming…”
“Ummm… what’s that now?”
Part Five
Marche’s pillar slammed into the back of Shata, laying him out across his own throne room. Taking another step forward, he gazed around once more. With it looking just like how he remembered the white stone great hall from before the revolution, he smirked and hooked onto a second pillar that he swiftly brought down upon his stunned opponent again.
Angrily getting up and yelling back to his new and random attacker, Shata screamed, “HOW DARE YOU!!!! DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?”
With brown eyes that matched his own, the blue and orange armor wearing mad burning king screamed to him as Marche merely nodded in return.
“AND YOU STILL CHOSE THIS FATE? I… AM… A… GOD… YOU… WORTHLESS… PEASANT…”
Shaking his head and moving to the left with ease as a wave of bluish orange flames erupted from Shata’s sword blade, Marche smirked under the black and intimidating helmet he wore.
“WHY ARE YOU SHAKING YOUR HEAD? AM I NOT A GOD TO YOU, YOU POWERLESS SIMPLETON?!”
He nodded.
Another yell and then a massive flare of fire shot at him, but this time, he stood still and took it head on.
With billowing smoke overtaking the air of the otherwise clean room, Shata chuckled before abruptly stopping in horror. All he could hear now was the loud thudding of boots on the marble.
Thud.
“… No…”
Thud.
“… that was my strongest attack…”
Thud.
“But… I’m Shata…”
Thud.
“The strongest being alive…”
Thud.
“I’m the Dark King of the Hellfire Inferno…”
Thud.
“just … who… even… are… you…?”
As an answer, an unforgiving fist extended from the smoke, connecting with the center of Shata’s unsuspecting face. Slamming him into his own throne. Cracking but not destroying the seat.
Holding up his hands to sign back, Marche finally communicated beyond just hitting.
(I am Marche Tadala).
“Tadala? Are you from the future?”
He nodded back twice again.
“THEN… WHY ARE YOU ATTACKING ME?”
(Warm up).
“A WARM UP?! FOR WHAT?!”
Shata fired another massive blast at the highest level possible as Marche stood nearly unphased. The gaps in their power being nearly laughable.
(All of them. All of me. All of time).
“Them? You? Time?”
He nodded three more times, as their eyes made contact. A look at that gave Shata a feeling in his gut. One of pure and unparalleled fear. For they were relentless and unstoppable eyes.
“So… what do you want? To rule everything?”
Marche shook his head as he took six steps forward. Thuds heard through the smoke as he now was standing over the cowering “god.” Rolled into a protective ball at the base of his damaged chair. Tears streamed from his face as his burning red hair could barely be seen through the protection of his forearms.
“Then… What… will… you… do? Please… I’ll… stop… everything… I’ll change… I’m… so… sorry… just spare… me… Please!!”
(I am not here for you).
“Then what?”
Marche’s snowfall-white shaded tattoo of a sword began to glow on his left shoulder.
“No way… I know that blade… what will you do with it?”
(Rewrite the Ending. But there is one thing you can do for me).
“Yeah? And… what’s… that…?” Sniveled the terrified king.
(Go. Tell the other Tadala’s and let them know).
“What…?”
(They are next).
Shata nodded.
Then, as the once mighty “showboater” screamed and ran out of the throne room, crying all the way straight into his history books and journals, Marche hooked his clamp onto one last object in the room. Onto the white stone throne itself, he heaved it through the fifteen meter stained glass mural on the far northeastern wall.
Calling upon the “tattoo” imprint, he drew upon the power of Freezecry once more.
Opening up a silvery gray portal in front of him, a smirk rested on the Silent Tadala. Two literal checkmarks marked off on his literal checklist.
As much fun as this was, it was time for the next stop on the pain train.
Leaping through the windowsill that once hosted the mural known as, The Great and Unchallenged Tadala Legacy, the portal that stood in its place then swallowed him up.
Forward once more.
All the way to 1981.
Part Six
“The Doom Tree?” offered the confused Star.
Standing in the gym, they attempted to get answers from the stunned Goddess of Design.
“Brinay… it waited… but… it… waits… no… more… it falls soon…”
“Why is it not waiting anymore?”
“Marche… Tadala… took the bait…”
“Who’s Marche?”
“He went back to change Pyroclastia… to… change… himself… but without the great super sword together… the tree can’t be stopped… for… its… hunger… is… insatiable…”
“A tree hungers? For what?”
“…it must eat… all… all… all… it wants to grow… it… must… consume… it… all…”
“Lenna-Anna, how does it grow?”
“… hope…”
Shaking herself free of the trance and looking around in confusion, the other three consoled their childlike friend in the high school. Unaware that as she uttered that last word, the shifting floating city of Crowopolis reached its precise chosen location in the expansive nothingness of space and then promptly began to ever-so-slightly fall.
The End
Castle Johnson Publishings 