I'm still here.
The last year was...eventful. I ended High School, with final exam included. Recently i've started university, and i needed to "turn off" myself for all the summer. A sort of reset.
But i didn't left this work. I don't want to.
Now i can say that the Second Act has begun,with this soft "prologue"chapter to introduce a whole new protagonist and also to settle down a major thing of Richard's character. Let's start easy.
I will never stop thanking you for reading and following this work since I wrote it. I was 16, now I'm 19, probably tastes and maybe style will have changed, but that doesn't take away from the fact that I want to finish it. I want to and I owe it to you.
That said, may I say: welcome back and welcome to this "second season" of "The Second Carthage"
DECEMBER 19, 11:59 P.M.
He was sleepy. He wanted to drop his head on the pillow and turn it off for at least six hours. Especially after everything that had happened in one day, he needed to sleep.
But something was blocking him. There, on the other side of the room, inside the third drawer down, hidden in a double bottom he'd discovered just today. Luckily for him.
Richard had been sitting on his bed, his back against the cold wall, and his eyes were constantly fixed on that third drawer, while his brain was constantly processing what he had immediately put there, locked away to prevent any snoopers from ever finding it.
He dreaded that seeing it made him nervous, and then holding it, let's not talk about it: his hand would shake and he would feel that thing so heavy... and so wicked. It was like something alien that should never have been there. And indeed it was.
It had never happened that objects materialized from Lyoko, without any intended input; least of all one of that kind.
The boy looked at the clock on his cell phone.
One minute past midnight. The next day had just begun.
He felt calmer now. He could tell he had survived until the morning of the next day, and that the horror of December nineteenth was formally part of the past. A very near past, but that was enough for him.
DECEMBER 20, 4:30 PM
The first thing he perceived when he woke up was a constant, muffled noise. Then he realized he had slept sitting up, and not in his bed. Opening his eyes again, he saw where he had actually fallen asleep: on board a train.
Rubbing his eyes, he was about to ask himself what he was doing on a train, but then, as he turned around to stretch his neck, he saw Sylviane sitting next to him and he remembered everything. They had decided to spend Christmas at her parents', just outside a small village in Brittany.
-Oh, you're finally awake. Is everything all right? -
Well, not quite everything, considering he felt something was wrong in his head. But he didn't want to worry his girlfriend anymore, so how else could he answer?
-...Yes. Yes I'm fine...-
And with a good morning kiss on his cheek, Sylviane, as always, watched over him; after all, after yesterday's crisis, she wanted to keep an eye on him to make sure he wasn't showing signs of panic or depression. She wanted to take care of him fully, so she had decided to invite him to spend Christmas away from Paris, in a faraway and quiet place.
And Richard had gladly accepted, since the alternative would have been to stay at boarding school until New Year's Eve.
He needed some peace.
Getting off the train shortly thereafter, all it took was a bus ride and a few minutes of walking. Luckily there hadn't been any heavy snowfall, and the cold wasn't too uncomfortable, so the walk had been somewhat pleasant.
Finally they arrived in front of the house, a large country cottage surrounded by the lush greenery of the area. Brick construction, smoking chimneys, everything gave the feeling of a place detached from the rest of the world.
It was Sylviane who knocked, while Richard remained just a step behind, knowing that he would soon become, socially speaking, a lump of wood. Because he had no idea how he should behave in front of the girlfriend's parents. Who had officially become one yesterday.
Opening the door and throwing herself at her daughter with open arms was her mother, who, as you might expect, was a much older and more mature version of Syl, even though she was about the same height. They spoke in a French dialect, narrow enough that Richard couldn't fully understand, but that was okay; he didn't want to ruin their moment by reminding his presence too much.
Which wasn't even necessary, because right after the daughter, it was the boy who was pulled into the welcoming embrace of Sylviane's mother, to which Richard reciprocated with a moment's hesitation. He was not used to these levels of emotional gestures: with his cousin in Rome, the hugs had never been so affectionate, and Edward's mother was definitely too reserved for this sort of things.
- It's great to finally be able to see you, Richard! Make yourself at home; Sylviane, i think he is a keeper! -
This time it was a continuous blush that struck Richard's face. No, he was definitely not used to this kind of thing.
-Thank you, uh, Mrs. Cellier... -
-Ah, there's no need to be so formal. You can call me Irène, but if you should get away with some "mom", I certainly wouldn't mind!
Well, come in, you don't want to stay out here in the cold...-
Having crossed the threshold, Richard had stayed with Sylviane just beyond the threshold, and was still a little embarrassed by the "introduction".
-Tell me, Syl, is your mother always so...expansive? -
Conversely Syl was giggling in delight.
-Not having had any other boyfriends, I can't say for sure, but...let's just say I saw this coming! -
This dozen days had been a godsend for Richard.
It had taken him a while to get used to sleeping in long hours, since he used to wake up early, and go to sleep very late, to maximize his research progress for the fight against XANA; as well as maintaining a decent GPA, of course.
And it had also been strange that he no longer had to drink gallons of coffee and energy drinks to keep himself up, often ending up eating very little.
But soon the improvements given by this long phase of relaxation paid off: his face had lost its tired and almost emaciated expression, and was no longer constantly tense as a violin string. He had even let his hair grow a little, just to put it in a short tail; there was no reason why, he liked the idea.
He could finally say he was fine.
Of course, this was mostly thanks to Sylviane and her family, whom to describe as welcoming would be reductive.
Although they were people who were quiet in their manners, it was clear that they had taken Richard to heart as if he were already their future son-in-law, without any formality due to the fact that he was a guest they had only just met.
Irène had been decidedly expansive, enough to make a few embarrassed 'thank you ma's' escape from Richard's mouth.
Her husband Mathieu, a doctor with a passion for botany and modeling, was the perfect definition of a slightly eccentric but quiet man. He had never assumed the jealous behavior that a father usually feels towards his daughter as soon as the new boyfriend shows up at her parents' dinner. On the contrary, there was a sort of affinity with Richard in their being both devoted to a peaceful life whenever possible.
Not to mention Sylviane's sister, Corinne, a magician who made Richard realize that Syl's nickname of "gothic" didn't fit, as it was perfectly suited to describe Corinne's style. As well as entertaining parents and relatives with her magic tricks, every now and then she would take surprise photos of the couple of the moment.
Speaking of the latter, maybe it was because of the events that had marked them, or maybe they were just comfortable with each other, but the fact is that their life as a couple was on track immediately. They spent most of their time together, whether it was wandering around the small town, walking along the river, or sitting comfortably on the sofa, with Sylviane perched on Richard as he read. Occasionally they would switch positions.
And then there had been the night of the twenty-fifth, Christmas Day... well, let's just say that Syl had proven to be very..."bold and enterprising"...even the next morning.
Yep, Richard would definitely not mention this to anyone, not even Edward or Maya.
He had, however, contacted them, both to send good wishes and to find out how they were doing after all that had happened. And they seemed to have recovered even better than he had, with Edward getting the usual frosty barbs from his older sister Margaret (which he had missed a bit, he said), and Maya making an effort to prove herself strong and in high spirits. Maybe she was just trying to reassure the others that she was okay; after all, she was the little sister of the whole crew.
In a way, Laney had also made herself heard, though not directly: she had sent Richard a brand-new jacket as a Christmas present that was cut a bit more to his shape; the old aviator jacket had actually become worn and small. Laney had neither phoned him nor sent him any messages of greetings, but Richard understood why: they would see each other again on New Year's Eve, where there would surely be a long talk...
And for now, a gift was more than enough. Richard had certainly appreciated it, and not just a little.
JANUARY 1
Saying goodbye to the Cellier family, Richard had left to go to his parents, and Sylviane had insisted on accompanying him. Just to finish the round of introductions, as well as simply to stay with him.
The Allen's house was not far outside of Paris, and was located in a small residential area of the village, where each house had a nice spacious courtyard; all covered by a layer of snow, making the environment almost brilliant.
Having found the right house, Richard started to walk to the threshold, while Sylviane decided to sit on a bench placed on the sidewalk: having discussed it during the trip, Syl had intended to introduce herself a little later, so as to give Richard time to settle the family matters, before introducing her.
The latter rang the doorbell and heard animal footsteps behind the door. After a few seconds, and with some effort judging by the scraping of paws on the handle, the doorway opened, and before Richard stood a large Scottish greyhound.
"Since when have we had a dog?"
Soon a female voice, with a decidedly annoyed tone, began to scold the dog.
-Murdoch! How many times do we have to tell you not to play with the door? -
Standing out along with the dog on the threshold was what was definitely not Laney. In fact, according to Richard, she wasn't part of the family at all. She was far too different to be.
The most awe-inspiring thing was her height: it didn't take much to realize that this girl was at least six feet tall. Her build, though not large, but slender, left no doubt. This one was quietly capable of breaking your bones.
The only things that made her identifiable as a teenager were her vocal timbre and face, the latter not very hardened, but which had a feral quality. I mean, these were certainly not delicate features like Sylviane's, or sweet and childlike like Maya's.
The aforementioned face was framed by an irregular, white-dyed bob.
In some ways she looked like a negative copy of Yumi.
-So? Who are you and what do you want? - The tone was too abrupt for his ears, even for Richard's usual cockiness, who was wondering what he had done to get this reaction.
-Okay, nothing, I got the wrong address. While you're at it, could you tell me where a Henry Allen's house is? -
-This is it, can't you read a sign? And you still haven't answered my question! -
Now Richard was even more confused: if this was the correct address, who was this angry giantess? She wasn't a close relative, of that he was sure, and in general she didn't have any of the physical family traits. Besides, all the uncles and cousins probably knew about Richard's return home, so...
"Oh. I may have figured out what's going on...holy shite, what were they thinking..."
And as if the situation wasn't strange enough, a third voice, which was recognized, joined the small chorus.
-Victoria, who are you talking to at the door? -
Finally learning this person's name, Richard saw his father Henry join the small group gathered at the threshold, with him having taken on an embarrassed and nervous expression seeing this situation, while seeming to struggle to find the right words to get himself out of the way.
-Um...hello son. Listen, I can explain...-
Now Victoria was seriously confused, and demanded answers.
-Son? Dad, do you know this one? And listen, you want to tell me who the fuck you are? -
Now it was time for Richard to set the record straight. He didn't feel like spending all afternoon at the threshold.
-Shut up, everyone. If the half-giant here will let me pass, I'll go inside now and then you, dad, will explain things to me clearly and concisely...-
-Richard... -
-And before you can ask me.
I'm fine. -
At last the trio gathered in the large living room with its dark sofas, while Murdoch had decided to remain lying on the carpet.
Richard was standing by the fireplace, waiting for the current situation to be explained to him. Henry seemed to be slowly processing a cohesive speech inside his head. And Victoria continued to stare hostilely at the newcomer. Not even five minutes in and she was already got on his nerves.
Finally the head of the household decided to speak, in the tone of someone who was ashamed of what he was about to say.
-You see, Richard, I'm not going to explain the details, because they're not mine to tell, they're...Victoria's personal facts. But in short, because she was orphaned, we decided to adopt her, it seemed the right thing to do at that moment. That's why we moved, we needed space for both you and her. -
-Okay. And just tell me one thing, why didn't you tell me right away? -
-...My bad, I procrastinated explaining again, as usual.
Richard, I'm really sorry I didn't tell you sooner, I was afraid you'd go ballistic, that you'd feel you'd been replaced... -
-Alt, calm down dad. - Richard replied.
-For your information, I would never have been furious to hear your decision, because it's none of my business. I haven't lived with you for ten years, so I don't think I have any say in these matters. As far as I'm concerned you can adopt whoever you want or do whatever you want.
I simply wanted to spare us all this drama. -
Victoria was fed up with being in the dark about this family business now that she was a part of it, so she blurted out for the umpteenth time. It seemed to be a habit of hers.
-Okay, I don't understand a goddamn thing anymore, except that I'm getting a headache! Now, Dad, explain to me where this effeminate shortie came from! -
Henry seemed to have gotten smaller, a little intimidated by his adopted daughter's character. Richard, on the other hand, had facepalmed at the discomfort he was feeling at the moment.
"We're off to a good start...Besides, since when am I effeminate? Tell me she's not talking about my hair..."
-Hey, take it easy Victoria, I was getting there. No need to get so heated...
So: when Richard was born, Laney and I were only fifteen years old. Our families were fighting about it all the time and we could barely support all three of us. Moreover, from some tests, we feared that there was something wrong with him, that maybe he was born too early...I don't know how we reasoned, but we preferred to send him to two of my cousins, who were much better off and were willing to take care of him.
It was a big mistake, i know...-
When the explanation was over, Victoria's face went from a furious expression to a confused one, her eyes wide with disbelief and the absurdity of the story she had just told.
What kind of family was this?
-...Sorry to say it like this dad...but what the fuck were you thinking!? -
At that moment it was time for Richard, slightly annoyed, to respond, though not angry, in kind. It was time to unleash some of his rambunctiousness.
-If this story seems out of whack to you, then I'm really curious as to what your, of all people, parents did to get you here... -
-Richard, calm down, please! There's no need...-
This was all too much for Victoria, and the head of the family could no longer mediate. The girl got up from the sofa and reached Richard so as to be face to face with him, with a look that seemed to belong more to a rabid beast, while her right arm seemed to hold back from choking her half-brother. Conversely, he didn't blink, despite actually being intimidated by her, and had unconsciously brought a hand to his waist.
-Don't you dare talk about my family like that! You'd better hold your tongue before I tear it out! -
Total silence. For ten seconds none of the three opened their mouths. At that point Victoria decided to take the curtains off by going upstairs.
"It seemse that i've striked a nerve, huh?"
At that moment the opening sound of the front door aroused father and son, as they heard a more familiar voice addressed to them.
-Henry, Victoria, I'm back! You have no idea what a queue there was at the supermarket, it was like standing in front of a concert ticket office! -
Laney Allen appeared in the living room, hands and face red from the cold, and was stunned, to say the least, to see, after ten years, her son under the same roof.
With a pat on the latter's back, Henry decided to disappear and leave them alone. Richard, without a word, took a seat on one of the sofas, and after a few moments of hesitation, Laney did the same on the opposite side. Now they were facing each other, face to face, waiting for the other to make the first move.
-Hello Richard. -
-Hi...Mom. -
Embarrassment. The tones of both of them exuded it with each and every letter, as if they were complete strangers who didn't know how to connect.
And indeed, they were.
-I see you liked it. The jacket, I mean. And you grew your hair out, too. It, um, looks good on you! - said Laney in a cautious and, at times, hopeful tone, as if she wanted to be sure she'd found the right words.
-Oh... Yes, well... thank you... for the gift I mean... -.
Richard's typical confidence and directness were gone. He didn't know what to say either.
-You've met Victoria, haven't you? -
-Yeah...let's just say it didn't go very well...-.
It was Richard's polite way of saying that they had already jumped each other's necks.
-Yeah, well...she seems a little "grumpy", but that's just because she still needs time to adjust... she lost her family suddenly, so, if you could just try to understand her... i think she'll chill out soon, don't worry.-
-Oh...I'm...I'm sorry...-.
It was half a lie; Richard was genuinely annoyed by the hostile attitude of the "newcomer". Lost family or not.
With the greyhound's panting removed, silence had returned to dominate the minutes that passed in that living room. They both knew that sooner or later the discussion would become animated in touching on certain topics, and sooner or later one of them would light the fuse.
And as the mother, Laney chose to do so first, in a slightly more choked, almost broken voice.
-Richard I...you're not mad? I mean, we haven't seen each other in ten years, I thought that...I mean, you were going to blurt it out to me, but instead...-
By now it was clear that Laney was holding back from crying, and conversely he was beginning to feel his stomach twist, not knowing how to avoid a likely scene. He could only say what he had always said to his father. The same old thing.
-I've already explained it, I'm not angry; what happened happened, period. I certainly wouldn't have made it better by yelling at you... -
-Then answer me just one question, and please don't go around like your father!
How did you feel when we left you?-
Checkmate. Laney had him cornered, there was no way to escape the question.
Perhaps it would have been an opportunity to allow a part of Richard to... vent, though he didn't raise his voice even a notch.
-...If you must know, I was feeling...sick. I felt bad, for the first few days I couldn't believe it and I couldn't tell if I had done something wrong. Then, when I accepted it, I spent ten years in the home of "relatives" that I felt I had nothing to do with. I felt like an outsider, spending time outside the house, even wandering around if I wasn't with friends.
I didn't like that at all. But it was your choice, you had your reasons, and after a certain age I certainly didn't have the right to be a kid angry at the world and spend time wondering what happened to you. -
-BUT YOU HAD TO! -
For Laney, too, the breaking point had arrived. She had jumped to her feet, and you could clearly see that she was crying and shaking; it was a wonder her voice wasn't cracking.
And Murdoch had decided to paw away, at a brisk pace.
-Do you realize what we're talking about!?
I left you looking like a cowardly little twat!
I left you with people who barely knew who you were!
I cut ties for ten years because I didn't know if I was going to be a pain in the ass nagging you, even if it was just to ask you how you were! And I had your dad do everything just because I thought he was better at this stuff...
And you're telling me that you had no right to be mad at me!?
YOU ARE MY SON, RICHARD ALLEN! -
That sentence...now all of Richard's insides were in an uproar as he grew more and more nervous and...ashamed, still silent, letting his mother fully vent what she had held inside for an entire decade.
-You had every right to come after me, to yell at me, to ask me why I did this to you!
But instead nothing. You told me nothing, never scolded me, and kept it all inside... but now, please...
Tell me something!
Get angry, let it out, slap me, I don't know, but please, stop standing there, helpless, pretending everything is fine like you have done for ten years! And stop ignoring me because you feel like a burden to us...
PLEASE, RICHARD
DO SOMETHING! -
In a flash, Laney found himself under his son's firm embrace, hearing his partially stifled sobs.
On Richard's side, this was no longer the awkward, hesitant hugs he'd given until now, only when necessary.
This one was intentional, purposeful, and seemed to be unwilling to budge.
-...Now stop crying, all right?
We got it all worked out, right? We're good, right?
Then don't make me sicker by crying like that, Mom. -
Now the boy had yet another reason not to die and keep the war against XANA a secret. He had made his mother sick enough. If he even died... no, he didn't have to contemplate that option.
He would survive. For her, for the group. For all of them.
Laney, finally feeling at peace with herself, had stopped crying, and returned the hug, even going so far as to stroke his hair, as if he were seven years younger.
In a way, she had some lost time to make up for.
-.. Welcome back to home, son. -