Fool Me Once

Her father’s true return had been something of a blessing and curse. Time had not been kind to either of them and the quiet conversation the two would have proceeding the spite-filled report on her mother, more civil in nature. His silence hadn’t reassured the Princess. There were ways to gauge the man’s mood in his habits, but in the following days he expressed little of his ‘normal’ routine. Again, Adaria was sat on the sidelines and forced to watch, guess at which road her father might veer onto.

Restless, she took her leave of the estate. A change of scenery needed to clear her head. Everyone was preoccupied elsewhere, concerned with the plot going on in the dark, to notice another shadow gathering, splintering off. It had been her plan long before Alfred ceremoniously dropped that box into their excuse for a family dinner.

She was a number of cups in when the melody and beat played by the bard caught her attention. Her body moved on its own accord, turning towards the musicians with a sway of her hips, words of the song falling from her lips with a slight smirk. There was a playful play of looks back and forth between musician and royal, the latter animating with her hands and posture that oozed confidence. She knew this song. Intimately.

[color=#b20080]“... I could burn your motherfuckin’ village to the ground..”[/color]

ooc: Burn your Village - Song

Alfred felt like every way the family turned it was one thing after another, and there was little he himself could do to help, beyond being an ear or a shoulder. When the news hit that Frankie was no more, it took everything that Alfred had to keep his own shit together so that he could be there for the family. It was usually fairly easy for Alfred to stuff his own feelings down and be there for theirs, but Frankie was like a son to Alfred and that made it all much harder.

Initially when Alfred went to speak to Adaria, she wasn’t where he’d expected her to be, though he’d looked after Frankie enough in his lifetime that finding Adaria was no real challenge. When he finally spotted her in a tavern. Suddenly it hit him hard what he was about to do. He took some deep breaths to steady himself. Fuck it was hard. She looked so, he wasn’t sure the word he wanted, only that she’d yet to hear the news, and her life would change forever once she did.

He moved through the crowd, not really paying attention to who he might be bumping into as he made his way to Adaria, once there, he heard the words that escaped her lips and sighed. He tried to be funny but it was hard living under the weight of the news he was about to give, but he didn’t know how else to break the silence between them.

And what about the other villagers that live there. He tried to smile, but it just wouldn’t come, the omen of bad news etched on his face, in the way he carried himself. It would take a fool not to notice something was wrong.

Adaria’s eyes closed, her body moved with the song, the lyrics falling easily from her throat. Just like her parents, the princess had followed in their footsteps, performing for the crowded tavern as if she belonged there. Though the alcohol imbued and mood of the young woman had her flaunting, exaggerating her turns and articulation of the songs rebellious nature.

She caught Alfred’s entrance during a turn, ignoring him until the song ended. The bard would draw the princess into his side, briefly muttering into her ear before Adaria pulled away. Her posture straightened, and while her words to him couldn’t be heard over the bustling crowd of the tavern, his face perfectly painted that she had put him firmly in his place. The man’s pallor paled from a warm deep tone to ghostly white. Achieved without breaking that innocent doe-like appearance splayed across her face.

Turning swiftly on her heel, she’d skip off across the floor to Alfred, tension rippling up her spine with the look across his face. His expression didn’t match his tone, causing her brow to narrow, eyes squinting as she appraised his stiff posture.

[color=#b20080]“Small talk is for children…. What happened?” [/color]Her chest tightened painfully, hands instantly curling into fists though kept at her side for the moment. What new disaster had befallen them now?

This was a burden Alfred wouldn’t wish on anyone. Looking into Adaria’s eyes, breaking this news to her was the last thing in the world that he wanted to do, but what choice did he have. He just knew that he had to break the news to her before the rumours spread, he owed it to her to hear it from him. He took a deep steadying breath.

It’s not good. I’m afraid it’s your father. He paused and looked around, this wasn’t the place he imagined breaking the news to her, but he also didn’t imagine she’d agree to go somewhere else while she waited for him to tell her the rest of the news.

He’s dead Adaria, there’s no easy way to say it I’m afraid, but there it is. Of course, he’d been dead before, and he’d turned up alive and minus his memories. As much as Alfred wished that would be the case again, he just felt in his heart that wasn’t the case.

The sharp blues of her eyes watched him intently, hanging on to every word while the rest of her senses focused on his bodily cues.

[color=#68c4e8]He’s dead Adaria… [/color]

Whatever else he said failed to register. The coolness in her eyes turned almost glassy and then froze their blue hues into glowing chips. The Princess strode forward with speed, clutching the old servant by the neckline and shoving the two into a darker corner. Her breathing deepened, slowed in an effort to keep a semblance of calm, though her shaking hand hadn’t seemed to got the memo.

[color=#b20080]“Tell. Me. Everything, you know.”[/color] The clipped, deliberate cold tone of her voice left no room for permission. Her free hand came to the man’s temple, thumb pressing firmly as Adaria willed her power into being. Delving into his mind, she’d search for the truth. See for herself what he saw, heard, if this was reality or another lie to enact further discord. Her father’s words to her, she had kept in mind, along with everything else the man had taught her, entrusted her with. Court chaos, with fact. Not stupidity.

[color=#b20080]“Show me the truth,” [/color]hissed through her lips. [color=#b20080]"What... who exactly is responsible for this."[/color]

Alfred was old enough and experienced enough to keep his cool, he understood it wasn’t an easy thing to hear, after all that’s happened so he wasn’t going to hold her temper against her. His face was a combination of sorrow and sympathy. After all, he’d basically raised Frankie from a toddler, back when he joined the family after leaving Orlais. He was certainly more a parent to Frankie than his mother had ever been. It was hard keeping it together, but he owed it to Adaria to keep his cool, the last thing they needed was for both of them to lose control in the heat of the moment.

Adaria, it won’t bring him back…. He winced slightly at the pressure, taking a few steadying breaths, he didn’t want her to see the things, but he knew he wasn’t strong enough to keep her out of his mind. She was bound to see every detail, totally unsensored. He wanted to protect her from it, but there was only so much he could do. Images flashed through his mind, Eularia, Elgar’nan, all the things he wanted so badly to protect Adaria from, but she wasn’t a kid any more, not really, and she certainly wouldn’t be one after learning these truths. As the images flashed through his mind, a tear slid down his cheek. Adaria…. He pleaded quietly.

His voice barely registered while she wretched her desire from his mind. She would see everything. Every action, motion, thought, and conversation overheard by her father’s most loyal servant. Too often, people sought to coddle her, protect her from the worst of things when nothing more was fraught with deepening resentment. Just because she was younger, afflicted with the same condition her father had, did not mean she was equally bound to his fate. Yet nothing would prepare her for the scene unfolding in her mind's eye.

Her expression froze, her autonomy soon following, adapting the most rigid posture. Air in her chest seemed to evaporate, her breath caught, almost stolen. The silence between them was palpable, but soon broken by the joyful and momentary naivety of its patrons filtering through. How naïve and unaware they all were that the ground beneath was about to shift entirely. The eerie quiet that followed the young woman encroached like a growing thunderstorm, a sudden thickness, and an increase in humidity became increasingly noticeable. In the same moment Adaria dropped her physical and mental hold over him, her attention shifted to face the direction of her father’s ashes.

Words failed her, the expression across her face unreadable, caught between grappling with reality and dismissing her own investigation. It was no-one's fault what happened next. The man’s laugh merely pitched louder among his and his friends, sharing a joke that she, perhaps, would have enjoyed once upon a time. Whatever incited it only managed to sever what restraint the Princess maintained.

In the echo of her heartbeat, the blues of her eyes changed to hollow pools. The room’s activity froze as wills were surrendered with the rolling out of her command. A ripple of confused panic echoed out, glances cast around and at each other until settling on the mage who shuffled into the centre of the room. Fists clenched at her sides and with laboured breaths, Adaria did her best to will back the pain. Her hands shook with the effort, but to no avail. She’d scream, yell her frustration and pain into the air.

The answer, a bolt of crackling lightning from the darkening sky above. It burst through the roof, splitting the flagstones near her feet.

Alfred, for probably the first time in his long life, was speechless. How did one console someone after all of this, all that they’d been through. He was dead, he was alive, he’s dead again, and from what he could tell, this time it wasn’t some hoax. This was the real thing, there would be no coming back from this.

He’d dealt with his fair of temper tantrums from the Campana family over the years, but the outburst that was coming from Addy was extreme and unexpected. Alfred just wasn’t sure how to deal with this. What could he possibly say, nothing would make her feel better, nothing COULD make her feel better right now, but he felt like he had to say something. He cleared his throat, and managed to find his voice, though it wasn’t with the usual confidence at which he spoke.

Addy, your father wouldn’t want this. We should go home, be with the others right now. Probably not the best words, but he felt it was probably at least better than asking her to calm down. He was speechless and at a loss, but not THAT dumb.

Last time, there had been a sliver of hope, but through the eyes of her Father’s most trusted servant there was no use in denying the truth. King Francesco Campana, was dead.

The anguished scream didn’t falter when the bolt fell from the heavens above them and through the building. The mage merely stared unmoved. The unfeeling and empty pools drilled into the flickering, dancing light that illuminated the growing fearful faces of the tavern. But they remain still, frozen by the concentrated will even as her attention became divided. Her mind pushed, will extended, in an attempt to harness the cascading energy. Adaria’s hands came forwards, willing the power into her cupped palms.

Her heart was being shredded, every piece was being cleanly sliced and cast to the wind beginning to whip up with the encroaching storm. Those outside felt this pass as a fleeting moment yet to Adaria ir felt like long agonising minutes. She fought with the bolt, grappled with the wild magic. The need to control something driving her recklessly. And then he said those magic words and everything fell away. Reason. Right and wrong. Control.

Without her maintaining that crucial guidance, her magic went awry. One bolt became many, ricocheting off stronger walls and piercing softer things, like patrons. Fires broke out, quickly spreading given the tinderbox they were in and the smoke quickly thickened. Yet people were still frozen, only released once the Princess crumpled into sobs, shifting quickly back to anger, unbridled rage. But not towards them.

“H-how.. How could you let him go… Howcouldyoulethimdie?!” The hollow pools gave way to white hot fury as they searched for the old man. Once landing on him, Adaria’s hands gestured of their own accord, calling a gale of magic to thrust him against the structure over and over again. Her voice screaming the last phrase would be the last thing Alfred would hear until her throat went hoarse and she inhaled too much smoke.

The Royale would be ruined, burned down to its foundations with nothing of its previous life remaining, but its destroyed cellar. Eventually driven from the burning ruins, Adaria’s storm would cause further fires and damage for a large section of Antiva City. Returning to a safe house of her fathers, it wouldn’t be until she went to wash her hands that the state of her registered.

Dead. But not dead. A living dead.

One who had work to do.

Alfred was heartbroken about Frankie’s death, but he had to be strong for Addy and the others. He hadn’t had time to allow himself to properly explode over it, not like Addy was. How badly he wanted to pick her up and just protect her from the world, but he couldn’t protect her any more than he could bring Frankie back to life. Frankie being like Alfred’s son was a simple fact, a thing that Alfred had always felt about the boy, even if he didn’t always show it as much as he could have. He showed it in some ways though, an ear to listen, a shoulder to lean on, a trusted confidante. It was all gone and the world was falling apart around him.

He looked at Addy, with love, with sorrow, but no pity, never pity. Adaria was her father’s daughter. As her magic grew and grew around them, he remained calm, because it was the only thing he knew how to do. He couldn’t fall apart, not then, not ever. He always put the Campana family first. As the magic went wild and he was effected by its destruction. His eyes went wide, confusion flooded through him as his brain had seconds to wrap his head around what was happening. He had seconds to decide what to do with them.

He looked at Addy, he smiled as best as he could through the pain, he sighed. Addy, I forgive you. He couldn’t die without her knowing that. He’d see Frankie again, all would be well, and the last thing he wanted was for Addy to blame herself. He was at peace in that moment, as the life fell out of his eyes, and the world went black. His story was over, and Addy’s was just beginning.