Disclaimer: Eoin Colfer owns Artemis Fowl. I don't.
A/N: If anyone is at all confused by the narrative and if the narrator is an actual person, take a look at the title and work it out for yourself because it's more interesting than having me explain it all. Concrit is much appreciated (and needed).
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Fowl
You never dreamed. You have always preferred to concentrate all your energy into reality. Reality was and is that of money and business, sophistication and art, science and literature, crime and lies. To you, all of these are the significant, concrete things of worth in this world.
Dreams are trivial fantasies of the imagination and you want to keep trivial things from clouding your genius. Your reality is your genius. Your genius is your power and power is needed in all aspects of life.
The fact that all your current power was originally built on a single dream never occurred to you and neither did the irony of that fact. This power—this incredibly real power—is, indeed, the result of the successful dream of wealth from the first, nameless father of the Fowl family line. But no dream can ever hold importance, especially that of a dead man. What does matter is the name of Fowl that now belongs to you. It is a name that holds prestige, honor, infamy, and (of course) power.
Fowl. Oh yes, people also belong to that name. A family was birthed of that powerful reality built on a long-forgotten dream. This is your family. It had worked to nourish and support the name of Fowl for generations before you and was doing exceptionally well until its current patriarch went missing. The mother crumbled into helplessness and all responsibility fell on you. Yours is the responsibility of rebuilding the Fowl fortune and restoring its honour.
You will support its wealth. With a calm face and a forked tongue you will paint the reality of its prosperity in shades of deception and cunning. You do this because you are a natural master in the art of crime and because you need that power. You will always need that power.
You also do this because you have made a promise.
"Take care of your mother, Artemis."
Mother...
She needs that power, as well. Or so you truly believe. After all, what else could she possibly need? There is nothing else. There will never be anything else.
"Sit with me, Arty..."
I begin to breathe easily again. Mother seems to be lucid today, a rare occurrence as of late. The depression has taken its toll on her mind as well as her body. I close the door of my parent's old study behind me and try to make out my mother's face in the darkness. Her skin is pale, I can tell even in these shadows.
How long has it been since she has seen sunlight? How long has it been since I have heard her laugh?
I go to her side and sit at the very edge of her bed. She smiles faintly and grips my hand.
"Mother?" My voice is barely above a whisper and the steadiness of it surprises me. Her hand is so weak over mine. She sits, covered in blankets and looking the frailest that I have ever seen her. Mother, who was once so full of life and an indescribable strength, now sits before me so undeniably fragile. The once-happy, gentle eyes no longer sparkle with unbridled amusement, but have now become dull and forlorn. I want to be able to mistake that moist gleam for a sign of that old life, but I know better.
"My little Arty..." She tries to give my hand a squeeze, but I barely feel it. "I need you to promise me something."
Her voice is even softer than mine, like the whispers of a faint breeze. "Anything, Mother. What is it?"
"Please, Artemis...I need..."
She needs your support. It is what she silently asks as she lies in her shadowy bed. It is what her disturbed mind thinks as she shouts unintelligible nonsense in one of her confused states. She needs you to uphold the family fortune, to honour her husband's name. She needs you to be a man and take up responsibility while your father is gone and while she is incapable.
She needs what you have always known was needed. It is the only thing you thought you needed.
Aurum est potestas.
"Please, Artemis...I need you to be happy."
Gold is power.
Your family name needs that power. The Fowls have lived in extravagance for generations and it is up to you to keep that tradition. It is your duty. Your promise.
"Take care of your mother..."
You will carry out your duty no matter what. Not because of your loyalty to your family. Not because you need any more wealth. It is because you are bound to that power by your entire being. Your blood. Your mind. You are a Fowl through and through.
I look at my mother's hand over mine trying so hard to be strong, to be real. Happy? Of all things, she wants my happiness? But...my happiness will not help her get better. It will not bring father back. It will not take care of our family.
But it was what she wanted, wasn't it? She needed it...didn't she?
Because you are a Fowl and because you have accepted your fate with open arms, you will always seek that power. It is our nourishment. That power feeds your family. It feeds your wealth. It feeds your name. It feeds us.
And whether you ever realize it or not...
You need it.
I meet her gaze and look into her pleading eyes. Then I see it. Her dull eyes are glazed over and unfocused. She looks at me earnestly, but I know better.
Mother doesn't know what she needs. Right now she is in a dream world, her escape from reality. Lucid or not, she is lost in a fantasy and I must bring her back. I must bring him back, as well. It is my responsibility and I have accepted long ago.
I must rebuild the fortune that my father lost.
Yes, our fortune.
Our fortune will pay for Mother's medical expenses. It will fund Father's search expeditions. It is the only thing real that can break this wretched dream.
I cover my mother's pale hand with my own.
Another smile.
She smiles hopefully at me.
Another lie.
"I promise."
Another promise in the name of a Fowl.
Fin