Some kind of Truth?

The loud cries of seagulls rang over his head, blocking out the midday sun from his view. His eyes were half-open, half-closed, watching the blue skies with a gaze that kept calm despite the bright light entering them. His right leg was crossed over his leg, the foot tapping out a slow tune to the rocking of the small boat. He would never normally travel like this, but he had reason to today. If one were to notice a larger craft, they would wonder exactly what this man was doing around this island. But with this smaller boat, he had the perfect advantage. Smoke fluttering into the air above his face, the man with the half-closed eyes gave a small smile, chuckled, and felt the boat tap into something hard. Yawning, Vito Camillo Reyes sat up and rubbed sleepy eyes, slowly turning to study this place behind him. Hm. So, he was here now, was he? The boat that he was in had tapped into a large rock, one that served as a marker, of sorts. He would not be lost with this rock here. Placing a hand against the cold and damp stone, he closed his eyes and bowed slightly, before pushing off and away, maneuvering the boat towards the shore of this island. Through clear and crisp waters the wooden craft flowed, past small rocks, pools with sea life within, and fish that splashed away with each passing second. The dinghy slowly reached shore now, planting into soft sands and stopping, Vito snuffing the cigarette and climbing out of the boat, picking up the helm and pulling it towards him, sliding it across the sand until it was safely out of the way of the tides. With a smile on his face, he dropped the now-dead cigarette into the boat; not wishing to create a fire, and chuckling.

"This... is the place." He was approximately fifty kilometres north of Esparia now. This island... was Rouen. The man walked forwards along the beach-line, taking in the greenery that rose up before him, and the earthen scents that entered his nose. Chuckling, Vito placed a hand onto the pistol on his hip; he had to be protected. As for the rest of his inventory... Vito reached a hand into his pocket and slid out a small piece of paper, reading over it carefully. So, this was the clue that he had been left. He had not entered the laboratory of his father since that fateful day, but he now felt the itch to understand. Looking down at the glyph, he felt that burning need to know. Even if he did not use it, that need to know would consume him, and he would eventually be wrought with that wonderment. As such, the man felt the need, and would fulfill it. The first clue was on this piece of paper, referring to the war. The war, the war, the war...

He was not very well versed on this war. In fact, it was very rare for anyone to be versed in this war, especially back in Esparia. His grim features studied the area before him with a powerful fascination, wondering what this place was originally like. It was not taboo here, he was not in Esparia now. Stepping forwards into the portal that was the jungle, Vito took a second to look back at the water, and then smiled softly. He would return. He would make sure that he returned. Looking back into the jungle with a newfound preparation, Vito began to walk, holding a hand up to move the various green vines that hung down before his face, stepping over small critters and the like. He chuckled, and placed a hand onto his hip, closing his eyes and imagining it. This place, full of life. Burned. Destroyed. Raped. Pillaged. He did not hate Esparia for what they did. He knew that much; it was the fault of a dictator. Not of the people, so he could not hate them. Lowering his gaze slightly, the sounds of birds fluttering around the rainforest proceeded to calm his heart. He smiled morbidly, and placed the slip of paper back into his pocket. He stepped further into the forest, and looked over into the distance, watching for anything that he may wish to find; a clue, anything.

"This place... they made it out to be a place of taboo. A place of death for those who entered." What else had he not been told? His gaze hardened a little bit, Vito making his way further into the depths of the jungle, and taking careful steps to find a clearing in the center. He was greeted with a burst of bright sunlight, looking up into the bright orb and laughing. Not a soft laugh, but a proper, full-bodied laugh. He didn't know why. He was told that this place was evil. Why did they lie? Why? The man shook his head, and made a slightly animal growl. No, he did not think this place to be evil. In fact, this place was beautiful. Looking around, the overgrowth revealed buildings, once beautiful, now gorgeous. All of it, wonderful. All of it, all of it, ALL OF IT! The man was now smiling brightly, staring at this wonderful history. He did not care that it was destroyed by his country... for that did not matter to him. He had a mission. And so, pulling the paper out of his pocket, he began to properly study the notes in Esparian, on the slightly-yellowed material.

25 August, 2001:

Working in Esparia has become too risky. I cannot have my main projects there anymore. The project for Vito will have to be moved, however he cannot be moved himself. Therefore, I will be required to work between two Alchemic Workshops. I hope the boy understands, for this will better his life in the end. I will move to Rouen, take most of my circles and such there, and hope that the mysteries that surround the island keep them away.

A simple diary entry; ripped from his father's diary last week. One that he had scoured through, looking for: not specifically this one, but some sort of clue. The project that his father had been working on, the one that had given him this hand, it was all so strange to him. What was the meaning of this glyph? It seemed that his search would begin here, and as he placed the paper back into his pocket, this man's expression returned to it's morbid and stony gaze...

There are always secrets around lingering in dozens, the book that is judged by the cover and a facade maintained. A mask worn that of hideousness and tragedy, a vaudevillian in all regards being the mask he dons and wears, yet what is uninhabited as forbidden, as a place of evil, as a place allowed not to the Esparians, was apparently frequented much more than it seems. The helicopter that landed on the clearing betrayed that fact as the tall grass were flattened moreso than usual.

A President, the same man who made this place forbidden and spread tales of such a place's danger, and the taboo that surrounds it as a den of hedonism and heathenism practices was in the blood and flesh here. Standing tallest, the uniform of the generalissimo worn, and a set of flowers set down followed by a salute.

Harrowing adventures took place here, where death was close, where the perseverance of numbers had won against a nation mighty and advanced as this. That this den of alchemical practices, long lost to the grasp of nature which surprisingly left the ruins of Palais Présidentiel untouched, well tended to not recently, not yesteryear, but a time period that expands much longer than that. Accompanied by his typical entourage of Amazonian guards, his trusted guards, reliable guards.

"I am sorry, I cannot excuse killing you, madre de la libre... nothing in the world can excuse it." A sorrowful murmur passed from his lips, gazing at the neatly stacked set of flowers, all in front of the same grave, the thoughts of what had occurred lingered through his mind in that day.


War, it was a terrible blight upon the land of Rouen. The fires burnt high, artillery pounded, and gunfire was a usual thing. The tallest and proudest of buildings reduced to a defeated ruin of its former glory. Strewn bodies of the pale faced ones littered the grounds, intermixed in the crimson of blood, and yet one scenery was burnt into the memory of Vasco, in this murky recollection, was the clearest face he could see from the dozens of Rouenian faceless.

The lime-haired one's pale face, defiance in her eyes, the gaze that admits no defeat. For all the cuts and gashes, she still holds a child against her stomach, arms wrapped around, draping protectively... and the barrel of a pistol placed against her head held by Vasco.

Hesitation.

"Que l'assassin de mal? Avez-vous enfin pousser une conscience?" She proclaimed with strong words, that of a fearless she-lioness, even since her life hung at the pull of a finger, her gaze burnt.

"Conscience eh? Never had that, I have too much blood on my hands." His trigger finger leased, the trigger's grip softened.

"Il n'est jamais trop tard... Pourquoi pensez-vous résister à me tourner? Vous avez déjà tué mon mari."

He chuckled, yes... she was right, why didn't he just shoot her? There was so much beautiful about Rouen tarnished, so much destroyed, so why was she a difference? Why was this child any special?

"I... I don't know, even if I don't kill you, others will." It was a sentiment so heavily expressed, just so much of this war was wrong, just how he kills without a second thought was disturbing, "Are you willing to die protecting what is only luggage? That child will only slow you down."

"Fou, je vais mourir en la protégeant. C'est ce que la mère va faire, alors allez-y, prenez qui déclenchent et me tirer dessus. J'aurais fait mon devoir en tant que mère."

Why can he understand her? Why did she never bow? Just why? Her country was destroyed, her loved one was killed, but yet she never bows. All is lost, all there is left of Rouen was despair, all symbolized by the rubble...

"Very... well..."

BANG!!

~End Flashback~

What was his place of sanctuary was disturbed by a laughter, Amazonian guards would be quick to brace and point the guns at the source as Vasco himself unholstered his pistol. His trusty side-arm, aiming at such a source only for the iron-cross to point at...

"...Vito? What the Hell are you doing here?" Such stingy and poisonous tone dripped from the President, lowering his side-arm, "Stand down, STAND DOWN. He isn't an enemy."

Such were the orders received, and the arms were lowered from the Amazonian guards, compliant and obedient as they were.

"...Vito? What the Hell are you doing here?" A voice. Shit. He knew that voice. The man's heart flew out of his chest, and he turned towards the source of it with a look in his eyes that appeared to him being guilty of a crime that he may or may not have committed. Stepping backwards slightly, he raised his hands slightly into the air, making sure that he didn't aggravate the Amazonian Warriors around El Presidente. Despite knowing what they could do, he also knew that one had died in front of him. A toucan made a loud noise and flew straight into the air straight above their heads, causing the Amazons to make a sudden motion as Vito himself reached for his sidearm. Instinct, that was all. "Stand down, STAND DOWN. He isn't an enemy." The Amazonians lowered their arms, and Vito moved his hand away from the pistol at his hip, lowering his own gaze so that he was clearly watching Vasco Allende. He hadn't seen the man since he'd returned from Drachma and let Miss Francesca take her rest. He hadn't even been around the house, because he'd been trying to research what his father had done, in the hopes that he could further understand Alchemy, and the threat... or possibly the help... that it could be to him and his country. But he couldn't tell Vasco everything, for if the President learned of this, he may burn down any evidence of his father's trail. He couldn't have that happen...

"I have never been here before, Sir, so I decided that it was finally time to see if the stories were true. Forgive me, for it was simple curiosity that lead me here, as well as a desire to seek truth of my own." His right hand slowly raised before his face, the glyph on the back shown in full view to the Esparian President. Sighing softly, he closed his eyes and lowered his head slightly, "My father set up a Workshop in this island, a few years ago. He did this to me, and I wish to know what this does. I do not wish to use it, at least I don't think I do... unless it was for the good of Esparia... but Alchemy is not an Esparian strength. So I do not think that I will use it, I just wish to know it's purpose, as I do with everything in life... But enough about me..." He sighed softly, looking to the side with a faint blush on his face, "How is Miss Francesca? It has been a while since I was there, and I am unsure of how she has recovered..." He cast his mind back to the icy wastes of Drachma, wondering how this all happened. Catalina had died. Fran had been shot. Why... whywhywhy? The man shook his head and clicked his tongue, before looking back up at Vasco and lowering his hand with an annoyed look on his face. If this happened, then it would happen. If he died, then...

So be it.

Another walks the path of breaking taboos that long held more... simplistic people at bay long from Rouen, that no others dare walk into it. But just why did he get here? All that lay here are ruins, shambles of an old war that resulted in bloodshed, and the endangering of an entire ethnicity. An unnatural place, for it is a mass grave for the people of Rouen under their very feet.

"I have never been here before, Sir, so I decided that it was finally time to see if the stories were true. Forgive me, for it was simple curiosity that lead me here, as well as a desire to seek truth of my own." His gaze met the glyph, inspecting it in minute details, it wasn't remarkable to him back at the beach, probably just some tattoo, but symbols do bear power, "My father set up a Workshop in this island, a few years ago. He did this to me, and I wish to know what this does. I do not wish to use it, at least I don't think I do... unless it was for the good of Esparia... but Alchemy is not an Esparian strength. So I do not think that I will use it, I just wish to know it's purpose, as I do with everything in life... But enough about me..."

"So that explains everything, that tattoo is an alchemist symbol..." A moment of clarity bestowed before him, remembrance of times olden, a time of fire and strife, the Rouench had alchemists that bore symbols, intricate and ornate they may be, on their figures, much like Vito, "If you desire truth, then don't be so shocked when not everything you find is fine and peachy."

"How is Miss Francesca? It has been a while since I was there, and I am unsure of how she has recovered..." Ah yes, he saved Francesca. Saved her from a certain perilous death, like a guardian angel. Fitting really... her guardian having ties to Rouen as well. Supposedly he wasn't that bad as he thought before.

The President turned his back on Vito, lowering his head down, gazing at the grave with somber eyes, "She has been doing fine, recovering well, defiant to the end, thanks to you, her saviour... just come over here for a moment." He gestures with a wave of a hand, "This... is 'madre de la libre', defiant to the end, much like my Francesca."

A pause follows... let the thoughts settle into him, figure it all out on his own.

"She was wrongly claimed by the war a long time ago, protecting her only child." He explained, his tone wavering between the calm and the sorrowful, "An innocent victim killed by the guiltiest of men. Her daughter survived... protected by that same guilty man. It takes a savior to protect a victim, not a murderer." Vasco looked up, he couldn't bear to look at the woman's grave, "Well, what are you waiting for? Don't you also have your own personal demons in your closet to put to rest?" And so his demanding tone returns, that same one he uses when he exhibits authority on lesser men and women.

"So that explains everything, that tattoo is an alchemist symbol... If you desire truth, then don't be so shocked when not everything you find is fine and peachy." Vito gave a slightly amused smirk to this statement. Fine and peachy? He had never expected anything to be fine and peachy; it was far too simple that way. In fact, most people found it strange when Vito admitted that he preferred it when things got a little complicated for his tastes. Not as complicated as they had in Drachma, mind you, but it was rather fun when something got more difficult than one first anticipates. It made things more interesting, and that made things more likelyo to get out of hand. Laughing softly, the next few words of the President came from his question about Miss Francesca, "She has been doing fine, recovering well, defiant to the end, thanks to you, her saviour... just come over here for a moment." He chuckled. That sounded like the girl. But a savior? Oh, nono, that was not him. He did not wish to be hailed as such. It was unbecoming of the one who had let Catalina die. He was rather disappointed with himself and his actions. No, one who had let such a pure flower die did not deserve that title of 'savior'...

"This... is 'madre de la libre', defiant to the end, much like my Francesca." He walked slowly over towards Vasco, blinking at the gesture of the man, and the statement that he'd made. 'Madre de la libre'.... mother of the free? What did he mean? "She was wrongly claimed by the war a long time ago, protecting her only child." Wait... what? He turned slightly towards the spot that he had mentioned. What did he mean... no, it was slowly starting to dawn upon the mind of this man. He knew it. He was almost ready to guess the next words that were about to come out of Vasco's mouth. He'd had his suspicions that Miss Francesca was not of purely Esparian descent... "An innocent victim killed by the guiltiest of men. Her daughter survived... protected by that same guilty man. It takes a savior to protect a victim, not a murderer." Vito was watching Vasco, he could not look directly at the woman's grave, either. That was Fran's mother... he knew it now. Even if he didn't know for sure, that was, no it had to be the truth! Turning away from Vasco, he heard the man speak to him once more, "Well, what are you waiting for? Don't you also have your own personal demons in your closet to put to rest?" Same old Vasco. He chuckled lightly and looked over at the buildings, looking out over them to see if any of them seemed familiar. No, no, no, n--that one.

Slowly walking forwards, Vito found himself entranced by this pulsating feeling in his right hand. Yes, that was it. It was leading him there... He stepped over branches, pieces of buildings... and into the one that stood before him, his breath leaving him slightly. This place was... was... it... There were circles everywhere, and he recognized all of them. On the ceiling, on the walls, on the floor, it was just one large array. This... this was the array that had given him his tattoo! Stepping forwards into the room, he suddenly felt his body shudder and shake. What... his foot stepped into the very center, and suddenly blue electricity streamed around him. "The hell?" Images. Why were they. Images. In his head. Mind. What. Nononono. Not here. Not now. Why. Nononono. Fucking get out. Nonono.... "ARRRRRRRGH!!!!" He was on his knees now, screaming out blue murder as the images showed themselves over and over again, in a sequence that started to make sense. It was a message. That's all it was. Calm, Vito, calm. If you're calm, then it'll make sense. These images spread further and further out for him, slowly making more and more sense, until a normal message brought itself into his eyes and ears, hidden from the rest of the world. "Hello, my son. If you are here, it means that I am finally dead, and you have started to seek the truth. It is difficult to send a message via Alchemy, I had to create something that would at least tell you, and nobody else. I have seen Rouen's secrets, and that hand of your's holds the key to showing the Esparians the good that Alchemy can do... I know how you are, and I want to apologize. I am sorry, but I could not do it in my lifetime. Vito, my boy, I always loved you..."

"..." The images and sounds slowly faded away from inside his mind, and leaning down forwards, Vito Camillo Reyes started sobbing. "I always loved you..." Was that the truth? It sounded like it. Maybe... no... He looked down at his hand, and gasped slightly. The symbol... there was an extra part to it now. A small tail coming off the base. It was starting to grow...

The President looked away with Vito departing, mumbling a few things. Much to his dismay, he was too soft, bah. He'll have to change that attitude sooner or later... its just befitting of a leader. Inclining his attention back to the grave, no longer mindful of the departed interloper.

Hats off, Vasco bowed his head to the grave before him a final time. Enveloping his hair with his visor cap once more. He turns his back, making a gesture the Amazonian guards understood full well to accompany. Step by step to the dry soil, he made his way through all the way to his personal helicopter. Naturally the Amazonian guards obliged in saving the president of the inconvenience, thus opening the door for him.

Stepping into his air mount, he seated to the back. Dabbling into a bit of Esparian cigar with a simple flip of a lighter, kindling it to life, inhaling, filling his lungs with noxious fumes. Puffing it all out in one go, smoke emerging from his nostrils, exiting out. Relaxed by it, as it has given him some time to contemplate. Softly growling.

"Bah, useless boy. Guess I can't leave him out here."

Those thoughts made him glance at his Amazon guards, gesturing one closer, "Start the helicopter, and you... *He points at the second one* ...Go find Reyes and tell him to board my private helicopter, I don't have all day."

Diligent as ever, punctual too, they perform the tasks exactly as told. One separating from the helicopter, and the other commandeering it. The rotors spin slowly... slowly... and begin picking up speed until it remains a loud blur. The grass flattens against the ground, with Vasco taking another smoke of his cigar. Favorite ones too. Relaxing back into the comfy cushions of his seat, stretching his legs farther until it occupied the space in front.

"Stupid... stupid youth..." He murmured, restraining these sentiments to thought, "...So foolish to have come here... yet so lucky the patrol haven't seen him..."

Rouen is known to have several naval patrols, boats of black paint, not from the military but from the Inquisition itself patrolling. Enforcing the ban on travels to the island. Not a well known fact even among the upper echelons of Esparia, save for a token few individuals that preside quite high in the government. Luck had it, Vasco was visiting, that patrols would cease for the short duration until his leave...

His body was smoking, and his head was lowered. Looking over the small room before him, Vito felt his body weigh down before his mind, bearing a heaviness that he didn't expect to feel. He could only close his eyes for a single second, before putting a hand onto the ground in front of him. His fingers felt along the concrete ground, and he pushed up, pushing himself backwards as he did so, breathing out a soft sigh and smiling to himself. Alright... he sat down on his ass and looked at the wall in front of him, staring at the strange markings all over it. He looked to his left, and to his right, to the ceiling, and onto the floor. All of this... it was here, it was his. This was the research that his father had done? Yet... he felt no more empowered with knowledge than before. He looked down at his hand, studying it carefully. What he had thought was a growth from the glyph had become a glowing part to it. A faint orange glow, that didn't seem to leave. It was only on one length of the glyph, but it was enough to warrant worry. He sighed softly, and slowly stood up, closing his eyes slightly and chuckling. Well, this was an interesting discovery, that was for certain. Turning towards the door, Vito felt that he had to check one last time. This room was his father's. Did that not mean... that there was something of that man's in here, something that might help him understand himself further?

Footsteps resounded within the small bunker, and Vito started to hunt through books, cabinets and the like; a link. There had to be a goddamn link somewhere in here, he knew it. Items were knocked to the ground, glass shattering over the floor. But still, there was nothing. He grit his teeth, the dingy surroundings causing him to simply growl in annoyance. This was incomplete research... and he could complete it. But... what of the Inquisitors? He wouldn't be able to hide himself from them, would he? Closing his eyes slightly, Vito looked over all of the books that were in the room, and found something that he didn't expect. A symbol, one that was exactly the same as what he remembered. It was the glyph on his hand, and on the cover of a small notebook, too. One that he could fit into his pocket. One that nobody would have to see. One that he would be able to read. Smiling to himself, he pocketed it. He didn't want to learn Alchemy. He didn't want to reveal its secrets. He just wanted to know, at the moment. Scratching his head, he slowly walked outside and started to look around. He would wonder where Vasco was, but he needed to get back on his own right. Sighing softly, Vito slowly walked towards one or two of the Amazonian guards and nodding curtly at them, before speaking quietly, "May you tell Presidente Allende that I shall be leaving the way I arrived? Arrivederci." Only. Cerisian. Word he knew.

Waving goodbye to the guard, he started to head back through the forest, dodging the dangers he had dodged on his approach. He followed the track that he'd made to the letter, and eventually came out onto the beach that he had arrived at. The loud cries of seagulls rang over his head, blocking out the midday sun from his view. He walked over the soft sands that spread onto rock, and slowly untied his boat. The currents that had carried him here would have turned around, by now. They would carry him back, just the same. Pushing off, Vito lay back down on his boat and grinned to himself, drawing a cigarette from the packet in his pocket. He placed it between his lips, and smiled to himself as he lit the tip of the paper. He closed his eyes and breathed in, before pushing out a plume of smoke that spread over his head, before his face. He would be resting until they reached land; in about three hours. Slipping the book out of his pocket, Vito chuckled to himself and opened it to the first page.

Time to find out the truth.