Once in Jamaica, Many moons ago, A boy named Simeon was born to his parents, The Silversmiths, Tallulah and Joe. And when Simeon became a man, He worked hard and pushed his might, And one day made it into college, To learn and to become bright. Simeon took to history, At his university, And soon he majored in a unique field, Archeology. His mind would fill with fantastic tales, Folklore, legend, and myth, And he was determined to learn more about- The things that made man tick. When Simeon graduated, He was sent to see The ruins in the Arizona reservation Known as Fort Apache. When he arrived in Arizona He met the family that- He'd be staying with for quite a while, And they took him into their flat. The family was very kind to him, Though he'd come from so very far, And the patriarch of this Apache family, Was a man named Itza-chu Starr. Itza-Chu had a wife and two children, One was already a man. Itza-Chu prized his family like gold, Like diamonds he valued his clan. His wife was named Salali, And she was Cherokee. Her son was strong and very brave, And his name was Nahari. Then Itza-chu's daughter, Whose age was only 13, Rayen was her given name, And she had skin like a coffee bean. For two months Simeon stayed in their home, And Rayen cared for him well. She listened to all of Simeon's stories And asked for more to tell. But shortly after his second month, The Starrs got dreadful news. Nahari was drafted into the army, To Vietnam stepped his boots. Another two months went by With Simeon winding down, His stint of research on reservation, He soon would leave this town. But then The Starrs received a letter, That caused them all to cry, For in the war with Vietnam, Nahari was shot and died. Simeon stayed for a few days, To help console his friends, Then one day Itza-chu Starr took Simeon Out to the reservation's end. Itza-chu: "My daughter is my lone heir now, And I am increasing in age. She is very fond of you, Simeon, And it would not be a disgrace, If you were simply to marry her, I would give you a place to stay. Please consider this option my son, Please consider and pray." It only took a single night, For Simeon to decide, He married Rayen the next day, Itza-chu was full of pride. Then this story brings us, To ten months after that, When Rayen gave birth to their son, Jengo And this is Jengo's life track… Jengo grew up as a normal boy, As reservation kids go, But he took a special liking to computers In the early days when they were slow. He grew up and went to college, For Computer science and more, He studied in England at Oxford, And his grades earned him encores. Then one day he met a girl, Ariel Meadowlark by name. She was excellent in history and literature, Totally not his game. They tutored each other and soon became, More than simply just friends, They met and married within 4 months, They were a perfect blend. They soon found out with DNA testing, Their blood held near every race. Celtic, Germanic and Asian, with Ariel, And a whole lot more in that space. Jengo held many a darker race, Like African, Indian and more, Like Arab, and Hispanic, and Polynesian, Listing them all was a chore! Then within their first two years, They had a baby boy. Braden Nahuel Silversmith Was to them their pride and joy. When Braden was only three years old, Jengo and Ariel were asked, To go on a missions trip with their Church, And so they took Braden back, To his grandparents in Fort Apache, To watch him while they went, But little did 3 year old Braden know, His time with his parents was spent. Over the Bermuda triangle, His parents' plane disappeared. Braden was left to be raised by his grandparents. But in wisdom he was reared. Simeon taught Braden to love folklore. He told him many tales, Of Knights and Vikings, and Samurai, Of Monsters and Dragons' scales. But once again When Braden was 11, A plane met with disaster, As it crashed into The World Trade Center, And made him grow up faster. But while all the world was crashing down, Around the USA, Braden and his grandmother were in Fort Apache, Watching Simeon decay. Cancer was taking him faster than they knew, And before they reached the twelfth, Simeon died in a hospital bed, With no way left to help. Rayen comforted Braden a while, But then they had to move on, She got a job teaching in LA, So to California they were drawn. She raised Braden alone for 9 years, Maintaining love in their hearts. She raised Braden to be a warrior, And this is where our story truly starts…

The graphics rolled across the screen, And guitars wailed their tunes. The opening fight of CFC120 Was beginning soon. The announcers greeted the watching fans, And ran down that night's card. Then turned their attention to the opening fight- Announcer Jim Calloway: "Tonight's referee is John Bernard." Acoustic guitar filled the arena. And many stood up and cheered, The former light-heavyweight champion Whom many a fighter feared. His entrance song spoke of old west tropes, Being wanted dead or alive. Overall, Timothy Kidd was one Who was either loved or despised. After Kidd proceeded into the cage, A more aggressive song came on, An aggressive headbanging metal tune, With gruff vocals all along. The lyrics spoke of a warrior inside, And the crowd cheered loudly to know, This unknown rookie Braden Silversmith, Was from the greater three-one-oh. Announcer Shem Jordan: "His long hair and goatee are unorthodox, Jim. Normally a fighter gets a shave. Being in there with Tim Kidd wearing hair like that, Is either stupid or brave." The cage was locked and the fight began. The two fighters circled around. The striker Tim Kidd looking to throw punches, And Braden was looking for a take-down. Those were the strategies everyone expected, But shortly something very strange occurred. Tim Kid shot into Braden's legs. Shem: "How incredibly absurd!!! The striker switching his game up, To throw his opponent out of sync! This is why Tim Kidd is a former champion! He works hard to make you think!" As soon as Tim Kidd took Braden down however, Tim relinquished the attack. Braden slowly got up to his feet, From lying down on his back. The two circled again, and Tim threw Those trademark right hooks of his. Braden took two like a champion, And grabbed Tim's leg like a wrestling wiz. Shem: "Takedown by Silversmith! Kidd tries to roll away! But Braden Silversmith Isn't letting go today!" Braden grabbed Tim's far arm, In between his legs, And trapped the near arm, And Tim began to beg. Braden cranked on Tim's head, But he couldn't hold Kidd down, Tim slipped out, And Braden frowned. Tim mounted Braden like a champ. Tim's punches came rapid and hard. Braden blocked with his hands And tried to put Tim in his guard. Shem: "Kidd raining down on the rookie- With everything he's got!" Then Braden turned over to his stomach. Something most teachers tell you you should not. Jim: " Did Braden just give his back?!?" Tim Kidd didn't waste time. He jumped at the chance to grab a rear naked choke, But in an instant he changed his mind. Suddenly the referee called for the bell. Jim: "What on earth just went down?!" The crowd was silent for a minute to hear What winner was to be crowned. Shem: "Let's run the tape back, Jim. I think I might have seen, What happened in that one split-second Let's see if there's something to glean." The replay ran again and they saw, The critical moment therein. When Kidd rolled back, with Braden's neck on his arm, Braden's elbow was on Kidd's shin. Braden had both his hands firmly gripped Around Tim's Kidd's right foot, Braden pulled up with his hands, his elbow went down, And Tim Kidd was kaput. Tim Kidd tapped so lightning fast, Only the referee saw. Braden was declared the winner, And the people cheered in awe. Shem: "The Warrior of California takes his first win! Was a legend born tonight?!?"

After the fight with Tim Kidd, And the party in the locker room. Braden left with his best friend Jonathan. Into the night's air and gloom. The Los Angeles smog shifted and writhed, With mystery in the dark, brooding sky. But thankfully the well-lit parking lot dispelled, The terror, the danger, and lies. As Braden and Jonathan passed through the doors, Of the venue where Braden had fought, A reporter with an old micro-cassette, Headed them off by the parking lot. He mashed record, and proceeded to ask, A few questions for those who still read, The Los Angeles Herald, though many said, Print media was certainly dead. Reporter: "Braden Silversmith? I'm Chris Magnus, To The LA Herald I report. I was sent to cover the fights tonight, For the pages of sport. What were your thoughts on fighting tonight, On TV for the first time?" Braden took the interruption in stride. Braden: "Dude, it blew my mind!" The reporter asked a couple more questions, Then shut his recorder down. Chris: "Are you guys headed back? Do you live far from town?" Braden: "Nah, not very far at all. We're just waiting for my Grandmother." Chris: "Do you remember me from years ago? Your grandma was the other Reason I came out tonight." Just then from out the door, Came Rayen Silversmith, smiling broadly, With a big hug in store. Rayen: "Chris Magnus! How have you been?" She embraced Chris warmly there. Rayen: "You look so much better Since you cut your hair!" Braden: "Don't worry about me Grandma. It's not like I won tonight." Rayen: "I'll get to you, Braden, Do you remember Chris?" Braden: "He was one of your students, right? He came over to the house a lot." Chris: "Well I kinda came to talk in private." Jonathan: "We know when to get lost." Braden and Jonathan snickered at their sarcasm, And Rayen shooed them away. They got in the car together And relaxed for the first time that day.

Jonathan: "Dude, that fight was Absolutely insane! He hit harder than I've ever seen And he even threw you off your game! But you stuck to it and you stuck it to him!" Braden: "I know man, I loved it. But don't think I haven't taken hits," Jonathan: "But man, you rose above it!" Braden: "Dude, I'm telling you, in a few years, You'll be fighting there too. Just stick to your training! You’ve got the heart! Don't stop it. Pursue!" Jonathan: "I don’t know, man. I don't do things like you. The Little Dragons are hard enough for me. Maybe I should get a clue." Braden: "Dude don't talk like that at all! You've got so much to offer!" Jonathan: "I wonder what they're talking about…" Braden: "Who?" Jonathan: "Chris and your grandmother!" --- Rayen: "And you're sure the man was serious? This all sounds very far fetched." Chris: "I have a recording of it on tape. This was not a jest. I sent you a letter with more information. I’m afraid of emailing right now. They have ways of intercepting those, Though I’m not sure exactly how." Rayen: "Chris, I'm praying for you. Be careful, but work hard. This sounds very dangerous. Please be safe and on guard." Chris: "I will be Rayen. Pray for me. I have a lot more to do I'll mail you more when I get it." Rayen: "Well, you better go. Shoo!" Chris laughed and walked into the night. Contemplating his plans. And Rayen walked back to the car, To drive home with her winning man.

The following morning, Rayen rose early And set out to buy food for her home. The Farmer's Market just downtown, Had the best food no matter where she roamed. She knew that Braden would be tired and sore, After that MMA bout. And she planned to fix his favorite breakfast, When he was up and about. She could have driven her car downtown, But with LA traffic it'd be- Much easier to go on foot- And besides, she'd feel more free. And free she felt as she paced the aisles, With attention and with care As she called to all the people she knew Who shopped and worked down there. But as she walked by a freezer case, Her freedom-feelings plucked a note That soured in her imagination And made a lump in her throat. She saw her reflection in the freezer case, And wondered who it could be, This grandmother of a 20 year old, Could she really be free? Her jet black hair was beginning to thin, Though she was only 55. She looked closer and saw some were going gray, And bitter feelings welled up inside. She thought of her lost husband and son, And how Braden was all she had left. And she fingered a black pen in her pocket, The one that was close to her breast. She finished her shopping as her mind weighed And contemplated her mortality. Then shuffled off with her bags in her hands, Questioning what the future would be. As Rayen began her journey home, She realized that she had Let down her guard from looking around, And for this she felt very bad. "You must keep an eye out downtown." Rayen thought to herself. "No telling what people might hassle you." Just then a tingling she felt. She looked around and saw a man, She'd seen in her periphery. She realized that he'd been watching her, Ever since she began feeling free. He had followed her all around, Staying just out of sight. She began to walk faster, and ducked down an alley, She did not want to have to fight. The man was dark with a mustache, And he was otherwise nondescript. He looked like something of Indian descent, But Rayen could only look quick. She hustled away to throw him off, But then she bumped into another man, Who stood almost 6 and a half feet. And he whistled at her then. Man: "Hey Momma! Where you going? Why don't you come with me?" Rayen wasted no time at all, And pulled her black pen free. She stabbed him with the pointed end, And then shouted three simple words. "Stun gun! Mutatio!" And him, into pain, she did send. The pen turned into a stun gun in a moment, And then the man hit the ground. Rayen picked up her bags quickly, And ran til' she was safe and sound. Once back in her neighborhood, She stared at the weapon in her hand. "Pen, Mutatio." She said once again, "It's time to take a stand." The stun gun turned back into a pen, And Rayen went back to her dwelling. Compiling a story in her mind, That anyone would find compelling.

The following morning, breakfast smells wafted All through the Silversmith house. Braden's bruised and broken body stirred, And he twitched his nose like a mouse. Ham and egg, potatoes and cheese. Yes. He was ready for this. He pulled his long hair out of his face. He stood up and nearly missed. His legs wobbled under him as he went downstairs, His body craving carbs and protein. He sat down at the table and thought to himself, "I'm so hungry, I might just scream." Luckily for Braden, He didn't have to. Rayen brought a dish right in. It had wonderful thick pieces of bacon in it, And cheese and eggs within. Braden: "Breakfast casserole." Braden beamed with contentment "I am so ready for food!" Rayen: "Wait. Not yet." Rayen set the dish down. "Don't be so hasty and rude." Braden frowned for just a moment, But then Rayen produced a black blade. He didn't see where she got it from, But his stomach rumblings were grave. Braden: "Is that a tomahawk?" He asked with a smile. "You know it's not my birthday yet." Rayen: "I know, Braden. I'm giving it to you now because- If I don't, it'll get lost in a minute! Every year it's the same story. You go out with all of your friends." Braden: "Well thanks for the tomahawk, Grandma." Then he asked for breakfast again. Rayen: "Would you wait just a few seconds! This isn't an ordinary hatchet! It's been passed down through our family, And has a story attached to it." Braden relented and sat back to listen, But his mind within him said: "By the time she finishes this family story, Jonathan will be awake and I'll be dead." Rayen: "A long time ago in Georgia, Before it was called a state, Our Cherokee Ancestor ruled Standing Peachtree, And he was a Chief that was great. Degataga was his name. He led his people well. And he especially kept his countrymen safe, From black magic, powers, and spells. Once there was a sinful witch, Harbingella by name, Who happened across Degataga's Braves- Who arrested her for her shame. They brought her before the Chief, And she begged for her life. And even though she bribed the Chief, Her heart still clung to spite." Harbingella: "Chief Degataga," She quaintly cooed, "Please forgive me of my magics, rude. I am but a poor wretched soul, But I have a gift that is worthy of your role. If you will accept this, Promise, will I- To leave this forest forever, And never again on you spy." The Chief thought through for a minute or two, All the witch had to say. It's true her power had waned a lot, And mercy was his heart's way. He agreed to the gift and she thanked him well, With a new tomahawk, and a magic spell. But nearly a week later, Harbingella was found again, And nothing could stop Degataga's Braves, Or the many men- Who came from all over the world to end, The Witch Queen Harbingella, And all their fury spend. Harbingella was sealed away, But the tomahawk remains. It has been passed from first-born to first-born. And here it passes again. It was passed from my mother Salali To your Uncle Nahari. He died in Vietnam, And so it passed to me. I passed it to your father, But Jengo's lost or gone. Now it passes to you Braden, My eldest and only Grandson." Rayen saw the quizzical look, Forming in Braden's eyes. She took the blade from off the table, And smiled in a way that was wry. She grabbed a fork from off the table, And crossed the tomahawk's shaft, With the handle of the fork, And she spoke two words of craft. Rayen: "Fork. Mutatio." Was all she need say, And the tomahawk turned into a fork right away. It was black like before, With a little blue stripe, Not just like the silver fork But black as darkest night. Rayen pulled the forks apart, And said one word again. Rayen: "Mutatio." She said in a clear voice. And the fork-form met its end. The black tomahawk with pale blue stripe, Braden saw suddenly in another light. Rayen held it out, And Braden took it in hand. Braden: "This is unbelievable." Rayen: "Treasure it." Braden: "Yes Ma'am. I'd never dream of pawning this for cash." Rayen: "The name of the tomahawk is Shadowlash. And whenever you would want to have a fork again, Hold it in your hand, and speak these words Braden, Fork, then Mutatio. It needn't be crossed. The tomahawk stores that information, For whenever you're lost. You can copy any inanimate object, That you can hold in your hands. And call it back at any time." Braden: "Thank you so much, Ma'am. So I cross it with whatever I want to copy, And name it, and tell it to change. That's what mutatio means, right?" Rayen: "You've got it." Braden: "Wow. This is strange." He put the tomahawk on the table, And the two of them embraced. Then Rayen began to serve Braden. With a smile and with grace. Meanwhile a sleepy-headed Jonathan, Zombie-walked down the stairs, His head a tangle of interwoven locks, Braden: "Dude, Nice hair."

The day went on as usual Until that very same night. Braden and Jonathan wore out The DVD copy of his fight. But later on in the evening, Rayen watched the news, While Jonathan and Braden sat upstairs, Watching some film and reviews. Rayen absent-mindedly played with her phone, As she halfway listened there, Then came the moment she never expected What the news anchor had to share. The anchor stared into the camera, And sadness hit his face. He borrowed the tone he'd used many times before, When describing this sort of case. Anchor: "Tonight, a journalist was murdered, In downtown Sacramento. The police have very scarce leads, No murder weapon or memento. Chris Magnus was found in his apartment-” Rayen tilted her head. Her jaw dropped and she couldn’t believe, Her former student was dead. She quickly got up from her seat, And ran over to rummage through All the mail she received that day, She remembered the letter was blue… She found it in an instant And tore it open to read, A handwritten message from Chris Magnus Her shock and worry it did feed…

Rayen wasted no time, And used her phone to capture the letter. She took a picture of it with the camera, It would last there much better. But once she did, the signal bar On her phone suddenly went dead. Then she heard a sound at the door, That filled her heart with dread. The distinct sound of a gun silencer Followed by a metallic thunk, Told her without having to look, It wasn’t just some LA Drunk. Three men burst into the room, And told her to get down on the floor. Rayen sunk down to her knees, But they had a lot more in store. One of them came into her view, His dark face covered with a mask. Man: “Where is the tape, woman?” Rayen: “I thought you’d never ask.” She sat there smiling for a moment, As the man waited, confused. The man then backhanded her across the face. Rayen: “You don’t have to be rude.” The man then stuck a knife below her chin, And stared into her eyes. Man: “Tell us where the tape is now. Tell us, or you die.”

In an instant quicker than most, A number of things occurred. The man who held the knife to Rayen? His vision instantly blurred. Pain shot into his shoulder, And he stumbled back amazed, An arrow stuck out of his upper right arm, And that arrow didn’t just graze. Along with this violent second, A Second thing began to develop. The lights flickered and off and on, Things just beginning to start up. Rayen used this precious sliver Of time to turn the tide. She grabbed a lamp off a nearby table, And she didn’t run and hide. She threw the lamp at her attackers, Literally shocking two- A few words in another language, Echoed as violence grew. The attackers retreated into the night, As Rayen screamed and gave chase. Rayen: “You better run, you scum!” They ran, and left no trace. Rayen looked as the lights normalized, And she saw on the balcony upstairs, Jonathan and Braden, Her saviors standing there. Braden: “I told Jonathan to grab the lights.” He said as adrenaline waned. His bow stood at ease by his side, “I know that it was harebrained.” Jonathan: “Who the heck were those guys?!” Rayen looked down in dread. Rayen: “They were looking for something Chris gave me. Braden… Chris is dead.”

Braden: “What?” Braden asked in amazement, “Did those guys do it to him?” Rayen: “I don’t know yet, Braden, but they will pay for their sin.” Rayen took a few moments, Looking for the mail, That Chris had sent to her, She was determined to not fail. When she couldn’t find it, She remembered her cellphone’s pic, The one she took in case of emergency, She navigated to it. And when she had the picture pulled up, She zoomed in on the text, She cleared her throat and began to read. That reading is what comes next. Rayen: “Dearest Rayen, My favorite teacher, I hope this finds you well. Well, better than my circumstances. Lately it feels like Hell. I was just attacked in a bar, But I got away with a tape. I’m going to put it in a safe place, I know you’ve got a lot on your plate- But I need you to retrieve it, Should anything happen to me. It is connected to what we talked about. You know what it could be. PO Box 292, at Killingsworth Road Post Office. I place the tape in your trust. Your faithful friend in Christ, Chris Alexander Magnus.”