.

"I mafiusi de la Vicaria"

Part III

Guido screamed and closed his eyes as he covered an unconscious Flavio with his body. The man was nearby, and he had a gun, and-

A sharp blow.

Then nothing.

Seconds passed, and amid the chaos, Guido opened his eyes again only to find an Elena who had her shoe in her hands, gripping it as if it were a pistol (or hammer, or bat, or... well, a weapon), and next to her, an unconscious man.

"Are you using that as-"

"I saved you!" She accused him. "At least, thank me!" She snorted, making a lock of her hair rise for a few moments. "I always knew these evil things called heels were weapons," she frowned, "I wonder why. Who was the one-"

Being impolite, Guido turned to the door, ignoring the girl. There, the woman (Sepira, he reminded himself. Her name was Sepira) kept stopping all those who came towards them (although sometimes one or another managed to sneak in, as had happened just a few seconds ago). No weapons, no traps, alone.

Despite the situation, Sepira looked serene, almost calm. And he said almost because the more time passed, a look of concern settled more on her face. Guido didn't understand why. What could someone of that caliber care about, someone with such power and presence?

When he opened his mouth to call her, he heard: A peculiar sound; a thunderous sound, and then screams. People were running.

What was that? An explosion? However, it didn't sound like one, and it was lasting too long to-

Then Sepira made an exclamation. One of surprise. One of... Anguish?

Guido and Elena ran to the door, and when they could see what was happening outside, they both gasped.

The air was thick, and it was intense. The trees seemed to bend. The atmosphere was too hot. The landscape colors all turned to a kind of piercing gray, dry, as if it were stone. Several frightened men ran, throwing their weapons, leaving their mission behind and fleeing.

Most shocking of all: the night sky was being illuminated, almost as if it were sunrise, by a wave of flames spreading around. A huge bonfire, with flames of a vivid orange that seemed to be eating part of the area. Flames not intense, instead appeared as part of the environment, seemed almost soft.

A kind of a beautiful ending.

"He has too much inside him," Sepira sounded alarmed, "How did he manage to do something like that?"

The man backed away as he saw the flash of fire come out, but he wasn't fast enough. He felt his flames disappear from one second to another as if a greater power had nullified them; moments later, all his clothes were beginning to get heavier, stiffer, more-

That was enough signal to flee from there.

Holding his burned hand with his good other, he ran. The only good thing was that the orange flames had also eaten up the red flames Giovanni had shot at him, and now only the wound and the pain remained.

The orange flames that spread through the area didn't seem to burn; they were too weak. No, that wasn't the correct word. If they were weak, they wouldn't be causing the strange effect of everything turning like rock and dust. They were thin, light. At first glance, you could consider them harmless, thus immediately falling into the trap without knowing it.

It had only been a couple of seconds, but it was long enough for almost everyone else to realize that something was wrong and run terrified.

The man clicked his tongue and frowned.

In his eyes, he had been embarrassed by a couple of children. He promised himself that later, he would make sure to return the favor.

The world was red; then it was white. As if the wave of fury had destroyed everything, disappearing the first blue that had made him so angry, disappearing several other things around him, leaving only remnants of nothing; remnants of unconsciousness, remnants of confusion.

How long did he spend like this?

Seconds? Minutes?

Giotto fell, and felt like all his energy had been drained. He couldn't hear anything, just strange buzzing, incoherent whispers. His vision was made up of amorphous figures (it was a lot like that time, the first time he felt dying). All his nerves were screaming in unison, a kind of melody of pain that ran through him from head to toe.

"Giotto!"

Ah, there was G. His dear G. Always standing by his side, even if it meant putting himself in danger.

He needed to apologize, he needed...

"Giotto, damn it! You know I don't like that thing of yours of staying like this whenever we have problems!"

Giotto tried to move, with shaking hands he tried to lean on the ground, he tried to stand up, but the pain was too much. He ended up giving in, but before he fell forward, G caught him. There, Giotto felt that his friend was trembling.

"Go to hell! Why do you always have to play with my mental stability?!"

Giotto couldn't help but laugh, and his abdomen ached. He had a sad half-smile on his face. His ears kept ringing, and his eyes couldn't focus anything clearly.

"Forgive me," he said. "The red flames. Because of me, again..."

"Oh, God." G's voice sounded strange. He seemed to want to cry and laugh at the same time. "Tell me that's not why you suddenly..." A pause, G's hands squeezed him slightly tighter, but Giotto didn't dare to tell him that even that hurt. "You're an Idiot! So, what if I don't like to use those red flames?! You don't have to do stupid things like-"

"G," he interrupted. "It's okay to be scared. What is not, is that because of me you have to be scared."

Although his body ached like never, Giotto managed to move enough to see G's face. He was worried, as he expected.

"Hey, are you crying?"

"Shut up!" G shook his head and put one of his hands to his eyes. "You're the one who is crying."

"Is that so?" Ah, so that's why suddenly he began to feel something warm on his face. "Look at us; after all, we are not so different from when we were children."

His eyes got used to the environment again. His ears stopped ringing so insistently. And so, his senses, though worn out, told him that something was wrong.

It was at that moment he caught on.

No.

He looked at his hands in fear. They were covered in scratches and even had a bit of burn. Most importantly, there were no flames.

He had returned to normal.

And they still had to-

"Calm down," G told him. "The enemies withdrew. It looks like you scared them too much." He laughed dejectedly. Giotto cocked his head, what he did to be able to scare people like that? "Now there are only those unknown who were attacking. The ones who kidnapped us fled. I don't understand why-"

"Are you telling me this child caused the explosion? Pff-haha! I understand why the boss wants him alive too!"

Giotto tensed. The voice sounded malicious but interested at the same time—a bad combination.

He turned, drawing strength from a place within himself, contemplating the possibility of having to continue fighting, even if it meant ending up worse than he already was.

Around him, but a few meters away were several men. Many others approached confused, doubtful. Some had weapons, others were wounded, and among the latter were those injured by firearms or fighting and those with somewhat deteriorated clothing and some burns on their exposed skin.

And the atmosphere had changed. The air smelled strange, something like dust and like something... frozen?

What had happened?

"What a surprise," a voice resounded from that unexpected stillness, the same one that had spoken before, and several of the men moved to give way to this person.

At first glance, he looked younger than the others, although evidently, he held some rank higher than all. Before Giotto or G could try to do anything, this new stranger raised his hands in peace and spoke to them.

"I'm not coming to attack or harm you, as you could see," he commented calmly. "My boss wants you alive, and you will be alive, that's why we have made this circus. At least one thank you would be the best. Oh, and while what happened was helpful enough to end it all, I'd rather it doesn't happen again. I don't want me or my people to end up in the middle of a blaze considering that we came here to help."

"Who are you?" G asked with suspicion and anger palpable in his words. Giotto tried to concentrate, resulting in his head hurting. What was that guy talking about? Blaze?

Was that what he had done?

"How do you know us?"

"We are the ones who control the territory where you live. You can call me Federico," he answered, "And you, dear children, are easy to recognize. You have quite striking physical characteristics."

"We are not-"

"If you're really on our side, you should get out of here," Giotto interrupted. His head was spinning. His muscles cried at the slightest movement. He had a blank space in his memory, and he didn't understand what was happening and why everyone saw him with uncertainty as if he were a bomb that was going to explode at any moment. But understanding all that would have to wait. "They, the others, are planning to attack-"

"We know," Federico answered. "We intercepted part of their forces. But we cannot assure you that a few have not escaped."

"What are you doing here then?!" Giotto yelled at them and reflexively moved forward. G had to hold him to keep him from falling. Something bad and good at the same time (depending on where you looked at it) was that Giotto used to ignore pain when the situation was too urgent to pay attention to it. "You should-"

"You are more important to our boss; don't blame us, little one," he excused himself. "And please, calm down. We don't want you to create another hole in the ground, do we?"

Hole in the ground?

Giotto turned down, and his stomach churned. It was true, he was standing right in a kind of hole, in an area of eroded land where the grass had disappeared, where the trees that, he remembered, should be close, were no longer, and others further away had a strange grayish color; where there were too many stones, and where...

What was that shining? Looked like...

Ice?

"And I see you are not alone," the leader spoke again, pointing with his eyes towards the warehouse, which in the distance could be mistaken for a small and normal house. "Do you know the problems caused by having several witnesses?"

"Don't even think about threatening the woman. She'll turn you into pretty garden ornaments for some aristocratic palace," G mocked.

"Sounds like order, and-"

"And it's an order," Giotto completed. He looked at all those men without doubt, without fear. He didn't like people were afraid of him, but it seemed to be working in those moments (even if it were for something he didn't understand how it happened, and of course, much less he could or wanted to repeat it). Likewise, if G and he were important enough to have them come, then they could afford certain luxuries. "What you are going to do is take them to a doctor, they have someone injured. The lady will be in charge, and like G said, you shouldn't mess with her if you don't want to end badly."

"What?" Federico asked in amazement. "And by chance, his majesty wants something more? Horses to go home, perhaps?"

"Thank you, I'll take the offer," Giotto answered calmly. G had to bite his lip to keep from laughing, and Federico had a tic in his eye. "Since you're so stupid not to check if they haven't attacked Mr Piero or not, we'll do it."

He wished it was as easy to do it as it was being to say it. Giotto was not sure he could endure the entire trip, and a possible battle, in his condition. Just making deals with these guys made him nauseous, but if there was no other choice, so be it.

"Hey," one of the men spoke. "It's good you can do strange things, but who do you think you are, you brat-"

"Shhh," Federico silenced him and smirked at them. The action made Giotto frown. "Okay, let's listen to the blonde. It helps our plans; the boss will also get angry if something happens to the landlord."

"But-"

"We finished cleaning this place and caught those who escaped. Meanwhile, they are in charge of checking that everything is going well with Piero."

"Signor Piero for you," Giotto snorted. Federico raised an eyebrow.

"The kid has character, eh?" he commented sarcastically. "And that look you're giving us. It seems that you dislike even talking to us, how can you have any trust?"

"Trust?" G sounded puzzled, "As if we could trust you."

"We're on your side, right?"

"That doesn't make sense! We don't even know if you are going to follow through on what you say about helping the others instead of trying to kill them."

"Oh, it does. I can explain it to you if you need it so much." The young leader crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. He looked annoyed. "And concerning the others, you can accompany us to see that we leave your dear acquaintances with transport, safe and sound to go wherever they have to go, again, if you need to do it so much."

G grunted, and Giotto was sure if it weren't for the fact that he was holding him, his friend would have pounced on this guy without thinking.

What G said made sense, Giotto knew it. And he knew what Federico had said was also true: neither he nor G would be calm until they saw the others were okay, or without understanding what all this was due to. Without an explanation, without insurance, nothing made sense.

He sighed and decided.

"Sounds good to me," Giotto said, and with a glance at G, he indicated that it was okay to leave him. G hesitated at first, but ended up nodding, and released him. Giotto staggered but managed to stay on his feet. "You can stay here while you explain to G your reason for helping; if you can use that word," several men complained, but Giotto ignored them. "Meanwhile, I'll go with your men to make sure they keep their word to not attack the others; if I see they do something, I will use my power again," he threatened. And although it was something false, the men tensed just hearing it. They didn't know that his words weren't real. "Fair, isn't it?"

G was stunned.

"Giotto, but-"

"G," he whispered, "Find out what they want. You are the important one, I am just 'the other child that the boss also wants alive'," he used the words that Federico himself had said. "They will tell you the truth. I don't think the same will happen to me, no matter how false threats I make."

"Does your intuition say that?" G bit his lip, and Giotto nodded.

G sighed. "So be it," he replied. Then, he turned his gaze to Federico and the others in his group. "You heard him! Move!"

Federico ordered the other men to prepare what Giotto requested.

To Giotto's satisfaction, those people also had a carriage (stolen, of course, although he preferred not to think about it) which would allow Flavio to travel without so much risk, and the others more comfortable, if that was possible considering the circumstances.

Pretending he was good and managing to control his expressions of pain as best he could, Giotto glanced at G before walking, with several men behind him, to where the others were. G returned the gesture.

They didn't need words to communicate.

When Giotto and the others walked away, G turned and looked as nonchalantly as he could at Federico.

"Well?" he cocked his head. "Why are you doing this?" he inquired.

"I had already said it," Federico said. "But I will repeat it for you. Our boss wants you alive, and I refuse to make him angry by letting you die. Also, those bastards had already done their stuff years ago with the fire, we can't ignore them." He said. "They have also infiltrated in our lands and threatening the people. If they want war, they will have war."

Fire. So it was someone on their behalf who had hurt Giotto and him years ago.

But then, the person who tried to kill Flavio was part of Federico's group? No, rather, had he gotten permission from them to kill him? His stomach turned from just thinking about it.

"Your lands?" G managed to ask without his voice giving away how bad he felt.

"Ah," Federico smiled. "You still don't know how things are currently being handled, do you? Although the model is based on the form you already know, some important aspects have changed. Let me explain how everything is working now."

G frowned. Federico was speaking to him with such calm it seemed he was talking about some business, and not about the realization of crime and death.

"When your father was here, things were more complicated. Gaining power was somewhat more difficult because you necessarily needed to have ties to the greats, you know, nobility, aristocracy, or at least someone with lands; and even with that, your chances of climbing were limited because you didn't belong to them. We were just another group battling for power, although we were already earning a certain reputation, and-"

"Save the words. I know the story: you needed some opportunity to climb, and from what I see, the opportunity was given."

"The Unification," Federico continued with the thread, "That was our opportunity. Did you know this? Several of us were hired to help with it, which caused us to be owed favors. Many others, who already had some power, contributed part of their wealth or used contacts for the same purpose."

G remembered his father's words, words that had come true.

Unification had helped them.

"They won, unification happened, favors had to be paid, and they were. We went up to have official positions; we ended up having our lands. Best of all: with the system changed to one where the money is the important thing, blood is being put aside, and we can use methods more... subtle."

The threats. Blackmail. And it was all covered since several of them now had important positions. G understood, and somehow doing so made him nauseous: How could something so good trigger something so bad?

"More stable groups began to form, and those that were already there grew. You can say that after the triumph we shared everything in some way, the lands, the jobs."

"Like a loot."

"It was one," Federico agreed. "Those who deigned to kidnap you and who planned the attack on the landowner are a new group, formed a little before Unification and who are only lucky enough to protect and care for the treasures of someone like that charlatan duke. Fame goes to the head of those poor wretches. They even ran away like rats after seeing the power of your friend's flames."

G narrowed his eyes and looked at him doubtfully. Federico noticed the gesture and hastened to explain.

"Oh, don't get me wrong. What he did was impressive, I don't deny it," Federico admitted. "However, you cannot deny that those who were here ran away maybe... something too fast. Not to mention, there weren't many that were much of a threat, don't you think?"

G opened his eyes. He understood what the other meant, even if he wished he hadn't.

"In other words, are you saying those who were here worth nothing?"

"We already faced those dangerous before we got here. For this reason, some are even dead; maybe you will see their corpses on the way," he answered calmly. "The only one who could fight in this place was the guy with the blue flames, the one who locked your friend in that demon bubble, and caused him to lose control," Federico extended his arms in a gesture that pointed to the whole place as if exposing the consequences of it. "He also fled, which is something dishonorable for someone of his caliber. Still, being so close to the strange explosion, I cannot blame him."

"The others, with whom we fight-"

"Most are new, bandits who survived in small groups to avoid danger and attack the defenseless easier. Few of them have good battle experience. I think it is quite easily noticeable when you face them, isn't it?" G clicked his tongue. It wasn't something he needed to be told in his face.

"You talk like you guys are better. Or like-"

G fell silent and instinctively took a few steps back.

Federico smiled at him.

"Forgives? Were you going to say something?"

Federico took out a purple flame from the ring he wore; one that seemed to expand the more its owner smiled.

Were there flames of all the colors of the rainbow, or what the hell?

"For now, only certain big groups know about this," Federico explained, pointing to his flame with a nod. "They, due to the number of members and power, are beginning to be called families. Famiglias. We are one of them. And those who are with that duke, too," he sighed, almost with resignation. "If you ask me, only we should know about them, but information leaking is inevitable. At least they don't know as many details as we do. They are not as long-lived as we are. Therefore, they don't have as many rights as we do in this new underworld that is being formed."

"You speak as if you and all your companions had been around for a long time. It's disgusting," G complained.

"Oh, Giovanni," Federico looked at him with amusement. "But we do. You really don't remember me?"

G looked at him, confused, not understanding what he meant. Federico raised an eyebrow and pretended to be hurt.

"I guess I can't blame you. You were very young at that time." Seconds later, he smirked. "Although that fact didn't prevent you from shooting to stop the man who wanted to attack your father."

G froze, and his face instantly changed. His hands trembled, and he felt a horrifying nausea building with extraordinary rapidity in his stomach.

There was only one time where he shot with his father present. There was only one time where he was when someone wanted to attack him, just-

No.

"You," his teeth gritted, and G held himself back as much as he could so as not to start shouting expletives of all kinds. "You were with my father. You were one of his group!"

"I owe him my life. He was the one who saved me some time ago," Federico answered honestly. "Unfortunately, I wasn't there when the accident four years ago happened. At that time, Ambizio never let me actively participate because he felt I was too inexperienced, and he sent me back home, away from Palermo. It was after the attack that I came back here, to this big and troubled city."

"Oh, it must have hurt a lot," G commented sarcastically, "So much so now you serve another person without any problem, using the knowledge my father had acquired to continue doing crimes. Tell me, was your boss also part of his entourage? Is it why you are protecting Piero and me? Like a kind of belated gratitude for what-"

"We don't do favors," Federico interrupted and spoke dryly. "Unless they are special exceptions, feelings shouldn't be had in situations like these."

"That wasn't how things worked."

"We have learned from our mistakes. Now, feelings are not mixed with work. Professional, don't you think?"

"Don't dwell on it," G growled. "If what you're saying is true, why are you here?"

"I said there were exceptions."

"So that's how I say, you and your leader are simply honoring my dead father, saving his son and one of his friends, but what good people you are," he commented acidly.

Federico raised an eyebrow in curiosity but said nothing. That action made G feel anger ran through his body as his blood boiled, and his head was filled with curses. How nice his flames didn't work with fury, because if not, he was sure he would have activated them.

"And your leader doesn't plan to come to pay his respects?" He asked mockingly. "And my father who liked the ceremony so much."

"He is not here at the moment," Federico answered calmly, which made G get even angrier. "He has international affairs that demand... attention."

G stopped wanting to pounce on Federico when he heard the words. As angry as he was, the mention of something international in size worried him too much to ignore it.

Federico noticed the change, and a small mocking smile spread across his face.

"Would you like me to ask him something for you? Champagne, maybe? Any cheese?"

"You're a-"

"Signore!"

A man interrupted and approached Federico to tell him that everything was ready: The blond boy had already finished placing the child in the carriage, and the two horses they had asked for were prepared to start the race. Federico nodded, and with a wave of his hand indicated him to move away.

"Maybe later we will continue with the conversation," he turned to G. "Now there are more important things. Do your part of the plan, and we will do ours."

G felt everything inside him boiling. He felt anger, indignation—a mixture of everything that made him want to throw up and hit something.

In frustration, he clenched his fists, closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply.

There were more important things. He had to check that Piero was okay, and then...

Angrily, G turned his back on Federico and started to run to where Giotto was waiting. But before taking a step, Federico stopped him with an unexpected question.

"Who told you that your father is dead?"

G turned to see him, expecting to find some mockery or perhaps a solemn expression, but Federico's face contained neither disdain nor sadness, only seriousness and curiosity.

"Nobody," G answered, and frowned. "After the accident, he disappeared, and..." and after meeting those strange people, this Monsieur and the other boy, Alaude, the answer of what had happened to his father was obvious; although it had taken him some work and time to assimilate. "... And I assumed that."

Federico smiled. And for the first time in a long time, G felt an intense chill run through him.

"I see," the man commented with amusement, "You're right. What else could have happened?"

A somewhat short chapter and mostly dialogues. But, in my defense, it's because it was originally going to be part of the previous one, but I decided to put it aside so it wouldn't feel so heavy. Still with that, I hope you liked it.