Chapter 45 - The Past

"I will help."

Matteo was about to leave when he heard Luca's voice from behind him. He smiled, after all, this was what he was anticipating and waiting for.

"You shouldn't be involved in this and besides it was I who shot him," Matteo said turning around.

"I asked you for help. I should be involved..."Luca paused "Even if you are a mercenary."

'Huh?' "Wait, you thought I was a mercenary?" Matteo asked his question out loud.

"Well yes. The way you handle the gun and the ease with which you shot Jonas..... also the look in your eyes - you have killed before right?"

"I have. I am surprised you managed to gather all that." Matteo simply admitted.

"I have killed too," Luca confessed too.

'Huh? Now that's a surprise!'

"No, Luca I am not a mercenary. I belong to the shadows."

"You are from the Grisvolk?" Luca asked, a note of realization in his voice.

"Yes."

"Now I see what you mean by you don't want me involved."

"Yes." Matteo waited for a bit to let it sink in, "Do you want to join me Luca?" he asked with a bit of deliberation.

Luca went silent.

"That's what I thought." Matteo smiled wryly "I think you should keep the gym closed until I solve this," then he said goodbye to Luca and left.

/////////

In the depths of a wine cellar, two figures occupied a weathered table. The lone source of light emanated from a flickering lamp, casting an amber glow upon their faces.

"Now, will you join me, Lysander?" Matteo's patient voice broke the silence that lingered between them. "I believe, I have given you enough time to think."

"I shall. I have but one inquiry."

"Go ahead."

"What is your ultimate objective?"

"Freedom. Through absolute power. The power to do as we please."

"Very well. I require an assurance from you, Matteo."

"And what would that be?"

"Should I choose to join you, you'll never ask me to betray my code."

"You have my word."

"Then, Matteo Marchesi, I, Lysander St. Clair hereby pledge my allegiance to you faithfully and swear to abide by your rules and make your objectives my own. From henceforth you shall be my liege."

Little did Matteo and Lysander realize at that moment, but their fateful agreement marked the genesis of a friendship that would reverberate through the shadows of Alpencia's underworld.

In time, Lysander's name would echo through the alleys and whispered in hushed tones – 'The Raven of the Marchesi. ( Corvo dei Marchesi )'

///////////

After returning home, Matteo settled into the familiar comforts of his abode. The aroma of a home-cooked meal greeted him as he indulged in a simple but satisfying lunch.

With his hunger sated, he turned his attention to the task at hand, poring over his plans with a focused intensity.

Hours slipped by as Matteo delved into the intricacies of his strategy, refining each detail with meticulous care.

As twilight descended and the shadows lengthened, Matteo got up from his desk for training.

After completing the daily training he tried to experiment with Psionics again. Yet, despite his diligent efforts, the grasp of psionic mastery continued to elude him. Frustration gnawed at him.

Disheartened but undeterred, Matteo decided to try again tomorrow. He took a long, relaxing shower and went to bed.

///////////

"Have you forgotten us, Matthew?" The words pierced through the mist, carrying the weight of unresolved emotions.

"Yes, he has, dear," another voice chimed in, dripping with disappointment. "He's like a completely different person now."

Matteo struggled to focus on the blurry figures before him. "Mother? Father?" he whispered, the names tasting foreign on his tongue.

"Don't you miss us, Matthew?" Their voices echoed, pleading for acknowledgment.

Contemplation engulfed Matteo as he grappled with conflicting emotions. "Frankly, I don't. I mean, I don't even remember the last time you guys were home."

The specters seemed wounded, their forms wavering in the ethereal space. "So, you have forgotten us. Do we mean nothing to you?"

A chorus of acquaintances from his past life joined the fray, their voices rising in accusation. "Do we mean nothing to you?"

"SHUT UP! ALL OF YOU, SHUT UP!" Matteo's voice boomed, drowning out the cacophony of his inner turmoil. "You all mean nothing to me. Nothing."

"Then why are you here?" Then, a soft voice pierced through the chaos from behind him.

"Lyra..."

"If all these relationships meant nothing to you, you wouldn't be here, Matthew," Lyra's voice carried wisdom and compassion.

Matteo turned to face her, his eyes meeting hers in silent understanding.

"You always had a hard time letting go of things, didn't you?" Lyra's words cut through Matteo's defenses like a sharpened blade.

"If someone wronged you, you wanted revenge. If you wronged someone you sought redemption. If you lost someone you mourned for years."

"Let it go now. You have mourned enough."

Tears threatened to spill from Matteo's eyes as he felt the weight of her words sink into his soul. "Goodbye, Matthew, or should I call you Matteo now?"

With a nod that felt more like a release, Matteo felt the tendrils of the dream start to dissipate, pulling him back to consciousness.

As he woke, tears glistened at the corners of his eyes, mingling with the golden rays of dawn filtering through the ventilation window. Stepping out of bed, he cast his gaze towards the sky.

"Goodbye, Lyra," he whispered, a sense of closure washing over him like a gentle breeze.