It took a while for Matteo and Bianca to gather their thoughts and accept reality – we're all that's left of our respective families, but eventually they did, and we found our way through the breath of countless trees and a vast pool of invincible dangers lurking, but finally we were there – Malcolm's house. The village was quiet and peaceful, a much needed state after the night we've just had, the atmosphere around the village felt different, it was as though we've entered a bubble.
After a soft knock on the door, Malcolm came out, surprised by the sight of Pasquale at his doorstep at that hour of the night, he could tell – it was nothing good.
"Come on in. How bad is it?" he asked Pasquale as he held the door for them to get in. 'Green eyes!' he said to himself as Bianca walked past him, he seemed shocked, there was only ever one person he knew with green eyes.
"Father is dead. And by now I assume everyone still loyal to him."
The house smelled of beans and porridge, compared to the smell of mud and dirt they rode with, it was an upgrade.
"Did anyone follow you?" a follow-up question hit Pasquale.
"Yes, but… they're dead." A sudden silence befell the gathering, Pasquale remembering the gruesome murders he had committed and the others the sight that left them stunned, with his lips bitten and his fists clenched as hard as they could be, he kept telling himself he had no choice.
"Good, go upstairs and drop your bag. draw up baths, for yourselves, bath and come back down so we can eat and talk. There are 3 rooms up, you can each pick one. I only have male clothing, they'll have to do for everyone" Malcolm informs them as he showed them the way and pulled Pasquale back.
"First time?" he asked with his hands on Pasquale's shoulders.
Pasquale nodded in shame, anger, and disgust.
"Listen to me kid. You had no choice, those men would have killed you and your brother if you hadn't. It's never easy the first time you take a life. But it'll get easier, I promise. For now, go upstairs and take your bath."
Pasquale excused himself as he went upstairs to take his bath. He hadn't said a word to Bianca and Matteo after he broke the news to them and then their gruesome sighting of him didn't help either.
As they ate, Pasquale watched Malcolm push a chopped log into the fire place. A shower of sparks erupted inside as he rooted the log around the burning flame. They coughed at the sharp smoke that rose out. The chimney wasn't properly opened. Pasquale was lost at the sight of the burning flame, he could hear the screams of the people burning, he could see them burning in the flames.
"He burned them!" he blurted out.
Confused and lost they all looked at him as he focused on the flame, he hadn't eaten anything from his plate, not the bread nor the beans.
"The bastard burnt them all alive, everyone in the hall. After he shot father, he burnt the hall with everyone in it." As he said this, they all dropped their food, all appetite lost, struck by disbelief and an instant wave of grief, he noticed the tears role down Bianca's eyes as she stood up running and whimpering upstairs.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." Realizing he shouldn't have said that in that moment.
"I should probably get some sleep too." Matteo said as he excused himself.
"I shouldn't have said that, should I?" He questioned Malcolm, "I just couldn't help it… I heard them scream."
"Pasquale, it's a cruel fate, the one you face, forced to live a life most adults can't survive, and as a child, as though that wasn't enough you have a brother to take care of and a girl who'll probably grow to see you as a monster for the things you'll have to do to survive and keep them safe. Pasquale de Luca, no one should be in the position you are right now. It's easy to have faith when everything is going well, but remember, it's the storms that tests the stronger sailor. So, will you remain standing? I'm here if you ever need me, to talk or otherwise."
"What choice do I have? I just wish I could have one last game with him, but he left me a responsibility, with no tips – keep Matteo safe."
"You're a strong kid Pasquale, I envy your heart. Even though it comes with a cruel fate. I have no doubt you'll prevail. You had a real son of a bitch as a father, and if he believes in you, I have no reason not to. Get some sleep son, although I doubt you'll sleep the first few nights. But I promise you'll learn to live with it once you accept it."
"Thank you! Malcolm. Really, thank you!"
As I walked up the stairs and down the hall, I paused at Matteo's room and had to force myself to walk in. He was seated on the bed, his expression was empty, I felt it too. The loneliness that loomed, knowing there was no home to go back to, no more friends to turn to, but I couldn't let him see it in my eyes, so I walked up to him and sat beside him on the bed. Before I could say a word he asked, "How did he die? Father, was he happy?"
"He smiled, not because he was happy, but because he didn't want us to be sad. Even in the end, his last request was to take care of you and his last words, 'I love you.'" There was no reason to ask that, but Matteo had always been like that, never direct in his questions, and I understood.
"Did you see the man who killed him?"
"Yes! I'll never forget that face. He had a scar across his face."
"What do we do next?"
"For now, get some sleep. We'll talk tomorrow."
"I can't sleep. All I can think about is how I'll never see him again or here his voice ever again. He was truly the best."
"I know, and I'm sorry I couldn't do anything to prevent this, but if he were here, he'd smack us at the back of the head and say, 'don't beat yourself over something you had no control over. Learn from it and move on.' Get some rest Matteo, goodnight." I didn't have to tell him 'I love you', but it was impossible for him not to know that already.
I advanced down to Bianca's room, but she wasn't there. It was dark, so I went back to my room and as I went in, there she was, seated on one edge of the bed, the moon light snuck in from the open windows and cracks, it's radiating beams hitting against it's backdrops revealing her, a seemingly celestial – it was the first time I'd seen that much of her skin, with a natural radiance about it, it had tales to tell.
As I drew closer, with every step I took, my heart skipped a beat, curious of the tale her soul yearned to share, or perhaps she yearned to share more than just a tale...