Marcus/Rocco
November 30th, 2008
Three days after Seraphina left, the manor felt
emptier than ever. Not because she had occupied much space.
Seraphina had always been the sort of person who
preferred quiet corners and closed doors. No, what lingered was the absence.
The knowledge that the conversation between brother
and sister had ended with anger.
Vittoria noticed it too. She noticed everything.
The way Alessandro spent longer hours in the library.
The way he barely slept. The way journals and records seemed to follow him
wherever he went.
Most of all, she noticed the growing desperation in
his eyes.
The doctors had exhausted their options. Rocco's
condition continued to worsen. Some days the baby seemed perfectly healthy.
Others, he struggled so much that every breath made
Vittoria's heart ache. And each difficult day pushed Alessandro deeper into the
archives.
Searching. Hunting. Refusing to surrender.
It was just after midnight when he found it.
A journal older than the others. Its pages yellowed
with age. Its leather cover cracked and worn. Most of the writing had faded.
But one passage remained legible.
A passage written by an Azzurro ancestor centuries
ago.
The keeper remains within the bracelet the bracelet.
He may be spoken to, though it is strongly advised that he not be disturbed.
Curiosity has historically proven expensive.
Alessandro almost laughed. Even ancient ancestors
couldn't resist sarcasm. But further down the page, another note had been
scribbled in hurried handwriting.
A method. A ritual. Not to release Valen nor to break
the seal. Simply to enter the realm connected to it. To speak. Nothing more.
The candle beside him flickered. Outside, rain tapped
softly against the manor windows.
Alessandro glanced toward the doorway. Then toward the
bracelet resting on the desk. For a moment he hesitated.
His father's warnings echoed in his memory. His
grandfather's. every story he'd ever heard.
Never seek Valen. Never disturb him. Never ask for his
help.
Upstairs, a baby coughed. The hesitation vanished.
Twenty minutes later, Alessandro sat alone in the library. The bracelet rested
before him.
Ancient symbols had been drawn across the desk using
ink copied directly from the journal. The final instruction sat open before
him.
Simple. Almost absurdly simple. A drop of blood. A
spoken phrase. And intent.
"Here goes nothing." He pressed a blade against his
thumb. A single drop of blood struck the bracelet. The symbols illuminated
instantly.
Blue golden light surged across the desk. The room
disappeared. The sensation lasted than a second. Yet it felt endless. Like
falling. Like flying. Like stepping through a door that shouldn't exist.
Then suddenly Alessandro found himself standing
beneath a golden sky. He blinked. Looked around and forgot how to breathe.
The realm stretched endlessly in every direction.
Chains stretched around everywhere, making distant rattles.
The place felt alive. Ancient. Beautiful beyond words.
And sitting beneath a tree nearby was a man reading a book.
The figure looked up. Golden eyes met Alessandro's,
then the man sighed. Closed his book. And pinched the bridge of his nose.
"You know," he said, "most people listen when they're
told not to do something."
Alessandro stared. The man looked far younger than
expected. Silver-haired. Sharp-featured. Dressed entirely in black. If not for
the impossible eyes, he might have looked perfectly ordinary.
"You're Valen." The man lifted his brows.
"Hmm, unfortunately." Alessandro wasn't sure how to
respond to that. Valen studied him for several seconds. Then his expression
shifted. Recognition.
"Ah."
"What?"
"You're an Azzurro." The statement carried a
surprising amount of disappointment.
"What does that mean" Valen leaned back against the
tree.
"It means this conversation is probably going to be
exhausting."
Despite everything, Alessandro almost smiled. Instead,
he stepped forward. "My son is dying." The amusement vanished immediately.
Valen sat up. For the first time since they'd met, he
looked serious. Alessandro explained everything.
The diagnosis. The treatments. The lack of answers.
The fear. The helplessness. All of it.
Valen listened without interrupting. When Alessandro
finished, silence settled between them. Then Valen spoke.
"No." Alessandro blinked.
"What?"
"No."
"That's it?"
"That is my answer." Anger flared instantly.
"You haven't even seen him."
"I don't need to."
"Then how can you- "
"Because I already know where this leads."
The words stopped Alessandro cold. Valen looked away.
Toward the endless void.
"If I interfere," he said quietly, "other things will
happen."
"I don't care." Valen's gaze snapped back toward him.
"You should." For a moment something surfaced behind
those golden eyes. Something tired and burdened.
"You are asking for a miracle, Azzurro." The way he
spoke the word made it sound dangerous. "Miracles are never free."
Alessandro didn't hesitate. "I'll pay." Valen sighed.
"Humans always say that before they know the price."
"I don't care." Another sigh. Then, surprisingly,
Valen stood.
He brushed invisible dust from his coat. And finally
said;
"Show me the child."