La Storia Dodicesima: Confessioni
The Head of the Intelligence Division stared wistfully into the Regalan Bay. His feet lazed off the edge of the wharf as he watched the gentle undulation of the waves. His fishing rod long forgotten in his lap. He didn't really come here to fish, anyway. It was more a form of habitual meditation to cleanse a man's thoughts.
The last light of day spread across the horizon. Tufts of down, wisps of cotton, stretched lazily across the sky. The dusky overcast was saturated in the radiance of the sunset, painting it in the spectrum of evening. A good sailor learned to listen to the clouds. They told stories, stories of the seas. They heralded the coming storm and the peaceful, rolling tides, alike. Dante would spend hours vibrant expanse, sussing out their secrets.
He ignored the purposeful thud of the approaching footfalls until they finally paused. Her voice broke through his contemplation, "Dante-san, an urgent communiqué has arrived addressed to you. Papa requests that you give it your immediate attention."
Dante heaved a sigh, and pushed upwards off the wharf. It was a sign of the times that his few precious moments of solitude were absorbed by his responsibilities. He turned to regard the young woman before him. She stared back, her hands knotted behind her back. Cold professionalism steeled her emerald gaze. The slight breeze tugged at the tendrils of her autumnal hair. Dante had to admit that the young Leader of Swords acclimated well to the militaristic atmosphere of the Arcana Famiglia. Her arrival was preceded by a great deal of high expectations. The daughter of Mondo, and personally trained by Luca, it was a tough persona to live up to. Even still, Dante was duly impressed with the success she managed to achieve in those two short years. The Swords never ran more efficiently than under her scrutiny.
"Thank you, Ojou-sama. I'll get right on it," he replied. Felicita slammed her heel against the wooden planks beneath her feet in a subtle salute before turning to leave. He watched her retreating figure and shook his head. A bemused smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Equal parts mirth and exasperation rumbled in his throat. With a calloused hand, he smoothed the blatant stigmata etched across his scalp before trudging off to his office.
Back at his desk, he found the large scroll she spoke of. He sat down, and slid his thumb beneath the paper, lifting the seal, a stylized relief of a skull pressed into the black wax.
Nova's seal, the experienced leader observed. This must be a situation report regarding that pirate girl. What could be so urgent about this?
His eyes drifted across the meticulously detailed report, skidding to a halt as words like "war" and "protection agreement" jumped out across the page.
If nothing else could be said of the pirate, she was most assuredly resourceful. There was no touching her if she operated under the auspices of Fortuna. While not the greatest or most powerful political player in Mediterranean, the small island nation was still a valuable trade partner. He continued on, his eyes catching on the euphemistic phrase, the Governatore's wish for "an exchange of resources." That pirate girl for a few military vessels.
He sighed and ran his coarse, large hand over his shiny scalp. The spasm of relief he felt when he considered that she may no longer be a problem stood at odds with the worried frown that pulled at his lips. This Arcana. While he must admit that it was a boon, that could only be said when it wasn't in the hands of your adversary. The girl could hardly be left alone to her own devices. The last thing the world needed was greedy pirate running amuck with a Tarroco tucked up her sleeve. He rolled the document shut, tucked it in his pocket, and purposefully stalked from the room. Even if foreign relations were his business, this was a situation which possessed farther reaching consequences than merely trade or public opinion. This was war. With over a third of the division leaders currently absent from Regalo, the responsibility would rest squarely on Papa's sturdy shoulders. Arcana be damned, was a single young woman worth risking open war with powerful Venice?
He spent the last two days just sitting there, resting his empty gaze on nothing in particular. People filtered in and out of the room. Sometimes, their voices would reach him, other times just their fearful glances.
It did not take long for the servants to hear of the accident. The walls had ears in mansions like these. They would skulk about and give him a wide berth as they went about their duties. Their hushed voices always muttered the same anxious utterances. The name they called him when they believed he could not hear them, "Lupo Affamato…"
The Hungry Wolf who would devour their precious Blessed Lady. There was a time when this was the truth, and in more ways than one. Anymore, he could barely keep his eyes open. He struggled against the constant heaviness that dragged his shoulders forward, weighted down his eyelids. For when he did, the voice that called to him in his dreams beckoned him…
Forget your troubles. Just rest… Rest awhile… This was the soothing lull that pulled the soft sighs of slumber from his lungs. Next followed the dreams, the still frames of better times. Half-remembered memories of laughter that filled the courtyard, of a tiny hand, familiar and warm slipping within his, of chestnut hair braided with flowers. And a name that lingered barely across his lips.
The sound of the door knob slamming against the oak paneled walls shuddered across his subconscious, an echo that tugged at his attention. He let the sensation wash over him and slowly ebb away, buried beneath the beneath the burden of his reverie.
"I've had enough, Debito!" Liberta's angry bark scratched the lacquer of his disregard.
"Enough of what?" His dull voice rumbled out it's tired question, vacant and confused.
"Of this! Of you! It's been a week already and you've just sat here, doing nothing. You haven't said anything. Don't you think you owe Amica some kind of apology? Or at the least, an explanation?" Liberta growled, his boots pounding out his irritation on the hardwood floor as he approached. Debito replied with a vacant amber eye locked on the flickering embers of the nearly exhausted fire. Its orange glow danced across the shadows.
"Not particularly," he responded distantly. At this point what could there possibly be left unsaid? Nothing? Or perhaps a great deal. That was among a long list of questions he did not have the answer to. And, frankly, it was much simpler to ignore. Much like the subtly clenched fist of his long-time friend, who was rigid with equal parts shock and annoyance.
"You never used to be this crass. Whether you hate her or not. Whether you think she's your enemy, it shouldn't matter. Having done what you did..." Liberta trailed off. Debito regarded him, his interest somewhere between weariness and curiosity. The silence dragged on as both men waited for the conversation to continue. Liberta finally caved to the mounting tension.
"You have to know… Or rather, you must have noticed…" Liberta began awkwardly. He gulped down his discomfort, swallowing visibly. "I think Amica… has feelings for you..."
"Is that all?" Debito sighed. At this point, Liberta's conjecture was not only unneeded, but entirely unwanted to. He knew his friend was looking for admittance to some form of reciprocal affection.
Aquamarine orbs, once pleading and awkward ignited in a passionate fury. "Idiota! Is that really all you have to say? She's not the person that you think she is. Hell, she's not the person that I thought she was. But if that's how you really feel, I'm not waiting around on your account anymore. By the time you come to your senses, it might already be too late."
A/N: The long awaited update. I apologize for the lapse in postings. It's the warm weather seasons and that translates to running around like a chicken with my head cut-off at work. This was a well-traveled 1200 words. It's been to Indianapolis, Chicago, and Tampa, as I tweaked it a little here and there.
Please bear with me for the next few chapters, as the next arc requires a great deal of set-up. It's been a little difficult to get it down on paper.
Also, I would like to provide a super special shout to Jack of the Void for providing her in depth assistance on Beta-ing the old chapters and this one too. It's given me some consideration to perhaps go through and edit the previous chapters. With that being said, I need to make it through this part of the story before I turn my attention to the past.
I appreciate all your patience and your kind encouragements. I'll start work on the next chapter and hopefully make some productive headway before my trip to Philadelphia next week.
I would also say, I'm looking forward to seeing some of you at the upcoming Anime convention in Chicago, beginning July 4th. I'll be cosplaying for the first time as Nora from Noragami. If you see me, say hi!
Best regards,
shotgunhero