Uncontrollable

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Just as a quick heads up to readers of this: There will be a lot of information in this chapter and you'll need to pay close attention. Enjoy!

Edit 11/9: I got enough requests to post as I go so I'll be double updating the next few days to catch you guys up.

++++

"What?" I couldn't believe the words that had just come out of Vanessa's mouth.

"He's your grandfather!" she exclaimed once more, excitement filling her voice.

"Oh." I wasn't sure what to say. The fact that I had a surprise grandfather rendered me speechless, but the fact that he'd abused power just made me uneasy about the whole thing. The two mixed together made me just flabbergasted.

"You started doing research on him, didn't you?" Vanessa asked, a knowing expression filling her face.

"Well, yes, a very little bit, but what does that have to do with anything that has just happened?" I asked.

"If you'd started researching his past and who he was then it would make sense why you sound almost disappointed," she explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I've read only one paragraph about him," I said.

"So you don't know about the destruction he caused?" she questioned. My eyes widened.

"Destruction?"

"Sit down," she ordered. I pulled out a chair and sat down in it. She sat across from me, and Bruno next to me.

"Before I start with what I've learned, do you know anything about Trent?" Vanessa directed her question toward Bruno, who sat up from his slumping position.

"I believe I remember a little bit about him from when I was a child although I never had a purpose to investigate further. Something about he stole ten Mog's and used them to speak to the dead," Bruno said, a puzzled look overtaking his face as he tried to remember.

Vanessa nodded slowly.

"I think I do remember reading about that once. I believe that tied in with his use with the spirits. I'll get into all that later. Do you have any other information?" Vanessa asked, somewhat impatiently.

"Nope, that's all; he wasn't a very talked about person," Bruno remarked, leaning back in his chair once more.

"You're right; he wasn't talked about much after the things he did."

"Wait go back for a second — what's a Mog?" I asked, still puzzling over what that could possibly be.

"It's a conduit for many things: you can speak to the dead with them although that requires very advanced and dark magic; something we'd never use, you can speak to another no matter where they are if they possess one as well, and you can also use it to cast certain spells in a much stronger form than regular. But they're very rare and the ones that wizards have been able to obtain are well guarded. You need special access to get one and that is granted by someone who I hope you never have to meet."

Just by the tone in Vanessa's voice, I could tell that whoever it was that granted access to obtain a Mog was not someone to mess with.

"Okay. So back to Trent Smith," I said, eager to learn more information. If I was to understand my new grandfather and why he was repeatedly showing up, I needed answers.

"Yeah, so I suppose I should start at his youth," Vanessa began. "His life didn't start out too well. His family lived in poverty in the Capital. There is the rich side of it, and the poor side; evidently, he lived on the poor side. That side was in rags, the wealthy bathing in riches. He lived in a home made out of flimsy wood, just like the rest of the impoverished. Every time it rained or snowed, their houses could not keep the weather from seeping in. Most of the poor were killed off during the winters because of sickness or hypothermia that was so bad they couldn't use magic to cure it. The worst part was that the wealthy and powerful didn't care.