La Secunda Storia: L'accordo
A single candle flickered on the table before him. A large alchemical text lay open on its thick binding. He paid it no mind. Jolly's thoughts took him elsewhere, to a certain occupied cell a mere two hallways over.
He spent most of her life watching from afar as she developed into the vicious young woman she was today. Previously, any interference in the young pirate's life proved unnecessary. Just as he expected, she adapted well to her surroundings. It was obvious, now, as it always had been to Jolly, that she was too volatile for a life in Regalo. However much Mondo would be overjoyed at her return to the Famiglia, Jolly had withheld any information of her whereabouts. After years, the fruitless searching finally ceased.
A frown marred his angular features, and he smoothed his jagged black hair in contemplation. Years of his careful plans laid in ruins with her foolhardy attack.
"Santiago. It seems you failed to uphold your end of the bargain," he muttered to himself. "If Mondo sees her, it is all for nothing."
"Just as I expected, you know something," a familiar voice growled from a darkened corner in his library.
"Ah, Debito. What a surprise! So unusual to visit the labs," Jolly intoned with feigned joviality. Beneath it, his irritation simmered. He silently cursed the Hermit for choosing the boy, such a troublesome ability. The last thing he wanted to deal with was Debito's spiteful attempt to undermine him. "I always thought you had such a distaste for the dark. No matter. With such a rare pleasure, we should celebrate with a cup of tea."
"What are you planning, Jolly? I know you're up to something," Debito growled.
"A shame it seems like you're not here for polite conversation. If I don't answer, what will you do? Are you going try to kill me? How many times has it been now? I've lost count," Jolly said, mockingly. The metallic click of Debito's pistol broke the momentary pause. Jolly snickered darkly. He turned his piercing lavender gaze towards the trembling firearm.
"You never had the courage to defy me, Debito. Don't waste my time with your petty vendetta. Hate me as much as you want. I have only ever act in the best interests of Regalo."
"Are those the same interests that nearly cost Felicita her memory?" Debito flared, jamming the barrel of his pistol into Jolly's cheek.
"The very same. Stay out of my way, Debito. The situation is beyond your understanding," Jolly warned, unaffected by the young man's empty threat. "Now, get out before I am forced to remove you myself." He paused to offer Debito the opportunity to leave of his own free will. With a snarl, Debito retreated out of the laboratory.
"This isn't over, Jolly. I will be watching you," Debito growled, and stalked off into the basement hall.
"Mia bella figlia, you must promise me," her father murmured. His voice was faint and gravelly. His weak, erratic breathing was his death knell. The malaria poisoned his blood, weakened his body, and finally staked its claim on his life.
"Anything, Papa! Anything!" she cried.
Tears stained her sun kissed cheeks. Her tan was a gift from the sun, a memory of their hours spent together as father and daughter on the open seas. Hours that would never again be shared.
"Please, my darling Amica. Don't seek out the Arcana Famiglia any longer. Leave them... Leave them alone," the frail pirate king begged. Tears flooded his dark brown eyes, kind eyes filled with a familial love so strong it overwhelmed the nonexistence of their blood ties.
"But Papa, I don't understand. We've never avoided them in the past. Why now? And if not them, who else is left for us?" Amica asked.
With their grasp on the seas as weak as they were, Amica could not understand her father's request. The fleet was harried at every turn by the independent kingdoms of Italia Romana. Even divided as they were, they unified in their opposition of piracy. It left her little other choice than to focus on the smaller, less powerful island kingdoms of the Mediterranean. Regalo was a prime target.
"Please, Amica. Just promise me," her father begged. He grasped her hand with as much strength as he could muster.
"Of course, Papa. I will find another way," she whispered as she squeezed his hand tightly.
"I've always loved you, Amica, as if you were my flesh and blood. I'm sorry. I haven't always been honest with you. I have lied for many reasons, but it is strange to think that I, Santiago, the most feared pirate in the sea, cared for nothing more than to protect his little girl," he laughed weakly. The soft laughter triggered a flare up with his illness. His shoulders shook with a deep, phlegmy cough. Amica winced. It was painful to hear.
"I don't care, Papa. You know I love you, too. Nothing matters to me except that you stay here with me. Please don't speak anymore. Save your strength," she whispered as she dragged her thumb across his thin hand, a hand that was once so strong. Just when she believed she was incapable of producing more, new tears painted tracks down her cheeks.
"No, Amica. My time has passed. You will lead the men... With my blessing. Be happy... Always..." he said. His breathing became shallow. Amica's shoulders wracked with painful sobs. She could no longer contain her grief, deny her pain.
"No, Papa. No stay with me. I need you. The men need you. Please," she wept.
"I... love..." His hand relaxed its weak grasp on hers. He shuddered his last gasp.
"Papa!" she screamed to her empty cell. Her eyes squeezed tightly shut, hot tears bleeding from their corners. She gasped for air. Her lungs hungered for relief from her overpowering grief. How could she have forgotten that promise she made those three short years ago?
It was dark. Night had fallen. She could not remember when she fell asleep. A sharp, crescent moon hung in the crisp sky. She stared at it longingly through the bars of her cage. Agitated, a sense of restlessness and pining for the sea claimed her. However, she knew she was the only one to blame for her predicament. It was her due, after she broke such a meaningful promise.
"Papa, please forgive me..."
A/N: Once again, thanks for reading! Any constructive criticism would be welcome.
3.15.14