Warning: Violence and menace at the end of the chapt.

"Il Fulmine"

People used to give very little appreciation to the animals with whom they lived. They were usually stronger, faster, with better senses, and even more sensitive than humans themselves, just like they used to have a better heart to forgive all the misdeeds and mistreatment that people gave them. Giotto confirmed this when he approached the horse, and after looking at him for a few moments, he seemed to bend down so he could climb more easily.

"Let me summarize the situation." G gritted his teeth. "Neither of us knows how to run with horses, so we will likely end up falling or unable to handle them, and even so, you gave up the other mean of transport there was, the carriage, because..."

"...They needed it more?"

"Elena, she is the daughter of a duke. It sounds logical that she knows how to ride a horse, doesn't it?"

"That's why she is in charge of the transport until they get to the doctor," Giotto tried to explain, although the look of few friends that G had made him nervous. "Guido didn't know how to do it."

"I wonder if Guido knows more than his name."

"And Miss Sepira is the one who protects them," Giotto completed, "Flavio was unconscious, and... And you didn't say something to me when I spoke about the plan!"

"Well, because..." G stopped, frowned, looked away, and gave a desperate cry. "Because I overlooked the flaw, damn it! I was too nervous and worried to think, 'Hey, I forget I can't ride a horse,' arrrg!"

Giotto hadn't thought that was a great inconvenience, at least at first; they had done crazier and more dangerous things before. Now, he realized it had been somewhat delusional. Maybe too much.

He felt a knot in his stomach and tried to calm himself. Focus. He still felt the strange tingling and warmth Sepira had left in him by ruffling his hair like a child, something that, to his surprise, managed to relax him.

She had been scared, worried to a point Giotto was surprised considering they hardly knew each other. Even more surprising was that she had trusted him despite the situation. She had smiled at him, had promised to take care of everyone, scolded him for losing control, and in the end, had disheveled him while laughing at Giotto's very nervous clear face at everything that happened.

She had smiled at him and said, 'Don't worry, everything will be fine.'

With confidence. With an assurance Giotto wished had.

'I will see you again after all this.'

Giotto still had many doubts about her. She was someone too mysterious, enigmatic. He needed the 'after all this' to come.

"We have to try, G. We are already in trouble, and walking we will not arrive in time if we consider there is a great possibility that someone has arrived at the house." G screamed again, and Giotto tried to smile. "Come on! We have survived worse, haven't we? And we are together. Together, we can handle anything," Giotto spoke, and although he felt tired, nervous and was not sure what was going to happen, his voice sounded calm, decisive, and fearless. Encouraging and smooth.

A characteristic in the future was going to be recognized and provide him with more than one friend.

G blinked and looked at him calmer, but still undecided.

"But-"

"She said everything was going to be fine," Giotto said. G understood he was referring to Sepira, whom he cataloged as a kind of magical apparition, or perhaps a descendant of some god from the ancient pantheons, who knows. "And why shouldn't we believe someone with powers of such magnitude?"

When they both screamed as if their souls were leaving them as the horses began to run through the undergrowth until they reached the path that led to Piero's house, with the two of them on their backs, G thought that perhaps Giotto had convinced him too easy.

The boy trembled. Tears flooded his eyes, making everything blurry. His arm hurt a lot, where that man was holding him without caring how much force he used.

He was afraid. Very, very scared.

What was happening? Where had those horrible men come from, with those expressions as if they were monsters and harsh voice? They just needed to transform, and they would be the same as those evil creatures from the stories his nanny usually read to him!

He wanted to run away. He wanted to cry.

But he can't.

The only thing that kept him from screaming and kicking was that those people warned him not to do it, or his dad would end badly. He was going to end up as his beloved nanny, who now, no matter how much he called her, she didn't answer. She was still there, lying on the ground, and she was ignoring him.

Wouldn't she be cold?

Could Daddy end up like this too, without speaking to him, asleep forever?

He didn't want that.

"So?" The intimidating man asked.

"I don't know," he heard his father speak. "For years that I no longer have to do with it."

"Sure," the other snorted, "And that's why we were attacked while we were coming here. Save yourself the excuses and answer."

"I don't even know what you're talking about! I have no idea how those strange flames work! I do not understand-"

"Answer with what you know, or I shoot you, and then my partner does the same with your son."

Fighting back sobs, Lampo looked toward his bedroom window. The night was clear, and the moon could be seen in all its splendor.

He wished someone would come down from there to help him.

"I will never let you convince me to do this nonsense again."

"Hey!" Giotto staggered. "But it worked!"

"Just because the horses are surely trained, and they felt our intentions of where to go and how to get here, even with our inexperienced signals!"

"Well, the point is-"

Giotto fell silent and gazed wide-eyed ahead, toward the entrance of the house. His face showed concern, fear, and a kind of resignation.

G didn't want to turn around. He had been carried by a horse at full gallop there, afraid of falling and feeling dizzy, hoping that his ideas were wrong, that none of these guys had escaped Federico and his cronies, and that Piero and his son and everyone else in the house was fine.

Giotto's face confirmed it wasn't the case.

G inhaled and started back on the path to act, directing his steps to the door. He wasn't the only one; Giotto also ran towards the entrance, even passing him. How was it that he could still move?

Giotto got on his knees to check the person's pulse. There was no blood around, so he had faith he was still alive. As he did that, G cautiously opened the door, glancing sideways without going all the way inside. The silence that reigned was a bad sign; the mansion was almost always full of life, especially with a small child who was somewhat spoiled and cried whenever he wanted something. Besides, Piero must have arrived by now after all the time that had passed since they left the opera.

"He's still alive," Giotto commented with relief. "It seems they just knocked him out."

"That leaves us several possibilities." G took a few steps back to where his friend was. "One, the men who came weren't armed; or two, they were and preferred not to use their weapons."

"Firearms," Giotto understood. If they carried bladed weapons such as razors or knives, it would not make sense for them to stop killing. On the other hand, with firearms, you had to take care of the ammunition; and considering that whoever arrived had just escaped from a battle with another group, they should not have too many bullets left to waste them on someone who wasn't a real threat. "Are they still there?"

"I heard nothing, but that doesn't mean it's empty."

The best thing was to be cautious, to be careful. G and Giotto looked at each other and went into the house. There was no activity, as well as no lights. On the one hand, the shadows helped them go unnoticed; on the other, that imperturbable environment gave them a bad feeling.

"The others must also be unconscious," G commented. "Then-"

The words were interrupted by the sound of crying; a loud, high-pitched cry, followed by incoherent words to them, accompanied by sobs. They knew that crying, although they had never heard it with that tinge of fear and despair.

"Lampo," they said in unison. Piero's son.

The crying came from the top, so they headed there, trying to be quick but silent at the same time; something that turned out to be more difficult for Giotto than he expected: his body ached with every movement, his legs could barely support him, he was too tired. Pretending was one thing. Running and having to fight was another. Giotto bit his lip, and even with his shaky breathing, he continued.

Never run away again. That had been his promise years ago, and he had every intention of keeping it.

"Oh, poor baby. He's freaking out," the guy had an unpleasant smile, a cloudy one that made goosebumps rise and the pressure on his chest get bigger. Lampo cried and screamed louder, and his attacker frowned. "When he hurts my ears, it's no longer fun."

"Could you stop turning here and keep focusing on the landlord?"

"What? Come on, look at him. He won't do anything; less when you have his son restrained."

Those two were a man in his late thirties and a young man in his twenties. Both managed to sneak out to get there, being led more by self-interest than anything else. The man looked calm, though unsure. The youngest was confident, but he was eager: he craved power, and the flames were an ideal means of obtaining it; that's why it bothered him that no ring gave him that.

And that's why he wasn't going to leave empty-handed.

"If he doesn't know anything-"

"That is why we will take them away." The youngest detailed with peace of mind, "Our dear friend is important to the leader of the others; we can use him for a small exchange: information for the life of the landowner. And he will do what we tell him while we have his son, won't he? We just need-"

The sound of scraping wood silenced him. The young man arched an eyebrow, and without even bothering to keep pointing the gun at Piero (he was sure he would obey his orders as long as he saw his son being held hostage), he walked towards the door of the room. He opened the door, turned left, then right, unable to see anything clear due to the darkness.

"What's going on?"

"I don't see anything," he replied, leaving the room and taking a few steps out into the hall, looking around, trying to see something in all that blackness. Neither of them wanted to risk getting attention, which is why the lights were off. "Maybe it was just the ai-"

The sentence was incomplete because seconds later, what was heard was a cry of annoyance, followed by a sharp blow and then curses. The fool had stumbled upon something, the partner thought.

Piero tensed, and the other thug, scowling and not letting go of Lampo, dragging him along with him, approached the door with annoyance on his face.

"Can you stop the nonsense? We have things to-. What the hell?!"

The man hissed in pain, feeling his legs flex involuntarily, and he staggered, about to fall. He dropped the gun but tightened his grip on the boy, causing him to cry out in pain. In anger, he turned to the front, meeting the face of a blond teen who was looking at him with wide eyes in surprise.

He understood the teenager had hit him on the legs to make him fall and release the boy; too bad it didn't turn out the way he wanted. He was always too big and tough to give in so easily.

In less than a second and using his now free hand without the gun's weight on it, the man clenched his fist and aimed it straight at the teen's face. The blonde barely managed to dodge it, moving to the side, at which point the man took the opportunity to kick him directly in the stomach, making the teen fall to his knees and take his arms around his abdomen in a reflex action.

The man laughed, taking up the gun he had thrown to the ground and pulling even harder at Lampo, who was crying and screaming inconsolably.

"I think your plans went wrong."

"Giotto!" Piero yelled and ran, unconsciously placing himself between him and the man. "Stop, he didn't-"

"What a surprise!" the other delinquent said while throwing G into the room, who fell on the floor next to Giotto, "We have two new guests!

"Giovanni!" Piero exclaimed and crouched down since they were both on the ground. They looked tired, hurt, and discouraged. They looked just like that pair of kids he had met a few years ago, and that hurt more than any weapon could do. "Both of you, enough! You don't have to... you don't have to risk so much... " he didn't want to lose them. Giotto and G were already family; he didn't want to lose them.

"Only two?" asked the criminal.

"Only two," answered the other, his gun pointed at them. "And not just anyone. I think we won the jackpot, haha! These two seem to be important to our enemies too. We can blackmail them much better!"

Giotto coughed and raised his face as high as he could to see his surroundings. It was Lampo's room, where its owner was shaking, screaming, and crying with a gun pointed at his head, where Piero was unable to do anything.

Where he had failed.

"Sorry," G whispered, resting his hands on the ground. "I couldn't take the gun from him. He's stronger than he looks..." He shook his head and bit his lips so hard they bled. "Stupid excuses, it's my fault-"

"I couldn't do anything either," Giotto replied, and like G, he looked frustrated. His usual soft features were distorted by a grimace of fury, a fury directed towards himself, and his fists were shaking. If he weren't so tired, if he hadn't come out of that miraculous state, it would have been easy to knock that guy out.

He was still weak. He needed to be stronger.

"New plan, we take all of them to negotiate for information," the youngest of the criminals smiled, but moments later, the gesture faded, replaced by a grimace of anger, and he turned to see the smallest of all, Lampo, with hate. He kept screaming and crying in such a piercing way that it hurt his ears. "Shut your mouth for a good time, or I swear I'll give you real reasons to cry!"

At the threat, the boy cried even louder. His emotions were too many, and they were overflowing without restraint. Giotto recognized the fear in the boy's eyes. He remembered that dread, the desire to close the eyes, wishing it would all disappear.

It was the same he had felt years ago.

"Lampo," he called him, "Lampo!"

The two thugs looked at him threateningly, but before they opened their mouths, Giotto spoke again.

"This is scary, isn't it?" He tried to smile. "It's so scary that your body stops obeying you, and you can't control what you do. It's too cold, and everything is dark. You wonder if the warmth will return; if there will be light again. You want this nightmare to end, right?"

Lampo was silent and turned to see him. His big, crystalline green eyes stared at him in amazement. With a trembling lip and barely articulating the words, the boy swallowed a sob and nodded.

"Can you read minds?" he asked him. Giotto wanted to answer, but one of the criminals spoke before him.

"What do you think this, a party-"

Giotto turned to see him, and although he did not move, the aura he radiated for those moments was enough for the man to tighten the arm that held the weapon. He didn't have any flame; that was why he was desperate to find information about them. And that was why he couldn't help but feel a strange chill run through him when he saw those eyes that seemed to glow in the darkness of the room as if they were a fire that threatened to burn him alive if he acted that way again.

"If you want to carry out your plan, you will be quiet until he is calm."

Why did it sound like an order?

More importantly, why did he nor his partner dare to say anything, even though they were the ones with the weapons and clear advantage?

"If you don't want to attract attention, the child must be quiet, don't you think?" G seconded Giotto, making a more logical argument. "Wow, you are stupid not to think about that."

The two thugs looked at him with hatred but seemed to understand that what he said had some truth.

"Lampo," Giotto called him again. The child looked at him carefully, while his body trembled, and his eyes filled with tears. "This whole situation is terrifying, isn't it?"

"I-I am not afraid," the boy stuttered, shaking his head in a pout of false childish bravery, not being aware that he had said otherwise just seconds before. "I-I am not afraid. Someone like me cannot be."

"Really?" Giotto cocked his head and looked at him with feigned astonishment, "You are someone impressive."

"I-impressive?" No one had ever called him that way.

"You are not afraid, even in this horrible situation. On the contrary, I am afraid."

"Are you afraid?"

"I just want it all to end. I can't handle what's going on, and I feel like at any moment I will collapse," Giotto admitted. "But I don't think being afraid is a bad thing, you know? It means that we can still feel; it means that there is something we fear losing. Emotions like that are what make us human."

"I-I want this to end too. I want-"

The man brought the gun closer to the boy's head, and Lampo hiccupped more. His eyes went from Giotto to G, then to his father, and then to the other person with what for him was a strange metallic object that made 'boom' and brought misfortune. His heart beat faster.

"Lampo, look at me. Just me, okay?" Giotto asked. Lampo returned to focus on him, biting his lip to prevent his whimpers from coming out of his mouth. "I have a great favor to ask of you, could you grant it to me?"

"A-a favor?"

"A huge favor! One that only you can do."

"W-what could I do? I-I'm just-"

"Someone powerful and brave, who can face this situation without fear. It's not like that?" Giotto completed. "You told me yourself, unlike me, who am trembling, you are there, holding everything with a will of steel! Only you can do me this favor, Lampo. I trust you; I know you will manage to do it."

Giotto smiled at him, and Lampo saw great significance in that small gesture. That stranger, that person he had only seen from time to time in his house, was now in front of him, putting all his faith in his person, treating him as someone worthwhile, being kind and gentle, treating him like a human.

He didn't know many people. The few children he had been with looked at him with indifference and insulted him for not being someone from the aristocracy (Lampo didn't understand well what being an aristocrat was). Or they watched him with fear, and they faked friendly smiles because his family had more wealth than theirs.

Why couldn't anyone see him without noticing his status? Was it so difficult to see someone for what they are and not for what they have?

Although it wasn't that he had much to brag about as a person, he wasn't good at what they told him to do. His new tutor despaired of him and called him useless. People in his house rolled their eyes every time they saw him. He had even once heard his nanny complain to his father that he was unbearable, that he couldn't do anything right.

That perhaps he was not worth as an heir.

And what did the word mean? Lampo wasn't entirely sure; he just knew he was disappointing his father. And he didn't want to; he couldn't. His father was the only person who smiled at him with sincerity and affection, who believed he could be more than he was.

At least, until then.

"W-what do you want me to do?"

"Another great feat," said Giotto, "Stay as you are. Brave, steadfast. Be like a hero."

"B-but I..."

How to tell him everything he had said were lies, and he was so afraid that he felt his forces were leaving him and that something heavy and painful was settling on his chest so as not to go away?

"Do you remember what I said? It's okay to be afraid."

"I-"

"I know, you aren't," Giotto completed. "You already passed the great test, that's amazing! You already understand that fear can turn into courage. Your shaking hands can end up steady. Your tears can dry. Keep it up, Lampo."

Fear can turn into courage.

Could he also be someone brave?

"Keep it up; that's my request. Hold on a little longer, " Giotto asked. "I promise you that everything will be fine. Can you trust me in that regard the way I trust you?"

Lampo felt the weight on his chest become lighter. It was still there, teasing like a thorn embedded in his heart, but for some strange reason, it didn't seem to hurt that much anymore. His expression relaxed a bit. Noticing the change, Giotto smiled at him.

"You really are someone impressive."

"I-I..."

"This is stupid!" The youngest of the pair of assailants yelled—the one who pointed at Piero.

Giotto and G tensed. Piero's hands shook. And Lampo looked at his father, scared; those guys were threatening him, they were going to do something to him, they were going to-.

He wanted to cry again. He wanted to scream again.

'Fear can turn into courage.'

His heart beat faster.

If someone had paid attention to him at that time, they would have noticed the strange green glow that was beginning to appear in the child's eyes. But nobody did.

No one stopped what was to come.

"Hey, calm down-"

"Why do I have to be listening to how two brats talk to try to instill courage? All I want is to get information from the flames, to have their power!" The young man growled. "I thought it better. We don't need everyone alive. Furthermore, if we kill the landlord, we can give the impression that we are serious and don't hesitate. The child will be used for blackmail."

Without waiting for an answer from his partner, the young man smiled, and it was clear he was about to shoot.

G and Giotto moved, but they were both too slow to do anything. Piero closed his eyes and waited for the shot to echo and his world to go black, but before that happened, an angry scream, followed by what sounded like thunder, echoed through the small room.

In the night sky, lightning flashed.

"Leave Daddy alone!"

Lampo screamed, and at that moment, lightning bolts shot out from his body. And flames. A green flame that sounded as if several bolts of lightning struck the small room. Everything lit up with a light of the same hue, and following the child's impulse, lightning ran with speed towards the targets.

The first to fall was the one who had the child restrained, who could not even scream before feeling the force of that electric shock go through him, and he fell unconscious. His partner was able to scream, and he did it while he dropped the gun, and his arrogance disappeared, turned into a pain that ran through him from head to toe and turned his world into a black one; he fell unconscious to the ground—all in just a couple of seconds.

Moments later, Lampo passed out, the blast of energy too much for his small body, leaving everything in an eerie silence.

By mere reflex action, especially after seeing the strange green light and hearing the sound, Giotto and G had knelt and covered their heads with their hands. They both stared in astonishment at what happened, while Piero backed away and fell onto the floor.

"The brat used flames?" G whispered, incredulous, "He used flames without-"

"Without a ring," Giotto completed, and without being able to avoid it, a sincere laugh escaped from his lips. "He is amazing!"

"But what-"

"Lampo!" Piero reacted, and between stumbles, he ran towards his son, taking him in his arms while tears of relief trickled down his face. "Lampo. You're okay; you're okay. How...?"

"It was a reaction, to save you," Giotto explained and approached his steps towards father and son while G turned to look in amazement towards the two now unconscious men. They smelled like something burning, and it was to be expected considering that some kind of magic bolt had hit them. Wow, smoke was even coming out of his hair! "His will was to save you."

Piero's eyes widened in surprise, and he looked at Giotto in confusion.

"Will?"

"The flames work with will, or at least that was what a friend told us," Giotto smiled. "They are like dying will-"

"Did his hair turn green?"

"Eh?"

At G's words, Giotto looked more closely at the boy. Through the darkness of the room, it wasn't possible to see clearly, but...

But G was right.

Lampo's hair had turned a greenish hue.

"Oh my god, his hair turned green," G repeated. "Like his flame."

"It's not green," Piero said. "Just a... strange blonde shade."

"It's green," G pointed out. "Now, I won't be the only one with showy hair. Thank you."

Remember if you want to ride a horse and are new to it, always do it under the supervision of someone who knows. They are friendly creatures, but in ignorance one can always make mistakes.

Lampo makes a small appearance. I hope you liked it!