A Father's Regret

[Angelo Cavataio]

Twenty Years Ago

Lights from candle flooded his fleshly opened eyes. Everything was blurry, but there was a figure in view. Angelo reached up to rub his eyes. Another odd sensation of having limbs again. ‘Oh… chit, I’m back.’ He knew who the figure was now. Only one person he seen bring the dead back and it was his mother. That monster that killed him had brought him back for torture him more.

Reopening his eyes, he glared at Petra and said with such hate. “What do you want, witch?”

Then moved his freshly new body, he was going at her with all he had. Death was going to be only way to stop him. Angelo quickly found himself pinned to the wall close to the ceiling. Yelling at Petra, “Why do this to me? What the hell do you want with me to bring me back, witch!” Pausing for air as he felt like his lungs were being crushed, “I know you killed them all after you were done with me. Serva, Lauda, Tony, Blade, Kris, Fabula, and so on… You are a… no, you are the monster, a plague to this galaxy!”

After fighting for air, it hit him. He knew of his siblings cause their souls cross in the Nether. However, Asteria and their daughter were not there. His eyes widen to the realization. Started to yell at her again, “What did you do to Asteria and Celestine… we made a deal. What did you do!!”

That was when Petra finally spoke, “Boy, I did kill your siblings with ease… such weak creatures and disgrace to the Cavataio like you were. And for your precious Asteria and brat…” She was milking this moment. In their fight, he was only one that came close to making Petra worried she was going to be killed. So, this was amusing to do to him and lying was icing on the cake for her. “I killed them… But I did not just end their life, I destroyed their souls forever. There is nothing of them left.”

Then Petra laughed wickedly at him as he screamed monster at her. Adding, “I am going to kill you… I will end you for good for breaking our deal, monster!”

The witch stopped laughing and remarked. “Oh that deal… I wanted to see where you stood, boy.” Walking slowly over to him, “I knew you soften up with that whore being in your life. I was amusing that you killed yourself in the hopes that was enough to allow them to live full lives. Knowing that they would never know that you surrendered everything because you loved them so much… such a pathetic boy. It is clear she ruined you, but worry not… I have plans for you without the distractions.”

Angelo could not take that. He was raw still from being resurrected and it was easy to be push over the edge. Breaking down, he could not hold it back and tears began to run down his face. The woman he tried to marry, the one that was his soul, and was harmed by his own mother. Add in, his precious daughter, his world that he would got the greatest honor of being there even if it was brief and never got witness her grow up fully. His heart was being crashed all over again.

There was truly nothing left for him in the life. His body and mind were alive, but he was completely dead again. Killed again by his mother for her amusement. His head hung low. He waited for the news why he was brought back. However, Petra did not say. She took him into another chamber and bond him into the wall.

Petra cast two spells. Angelo was going to send time trapped in his mind. The cruelest of tortures was the first. Endless pains and deaths of those he loved on repeat. The second was to condition his mind. Keeping the rage; however, she wanted it focus on the tasks he might be sent on and not on her. Angelo was something a weapon being tempered and sharpened.



Present Day

Angelo had been locked away, hidden from all. After all this time, the torture went from pain and killing his love and child to nothing but faceless people being killed by him over and over. He was a firm believer that his Goddess mother’s plans were the only ones that needed to be carry out.

Never in this slumber did he know how much time had passed. Add in the knowledge of not knowing what has happen, neither knowing his daughter was living in the stronghold that he been in for all this time. Nor knowing Asteria was alive and running her family business. Of course, he was now over them and lived for one reason. The spells destroyed him, so Petra hoped. It was more him giving as he lost hope before the spells were used.

 

[Petra Cavataio]

Petra had a massive smile as she walked into a chamber that was long forgotten by many in her stronghold. There was a little chat that happen before she came down. Celestine was such a delight in Petra’s eyes. She thought of the ways she use that girl.

Of course, having a chat with a child like her. Petra had return to the chamber with that held a single person deep hibernation. The room filled with Petra’s laughter. She took the person and let him hit the ground. Her son was ready for testing. Summoning an earthen seat to sit on, she commanded Angelo. “Angelo, get up and kneel.”

Then she waited for a few minutes before starting up again. “Boy, did you know I had a lovely chat with one of my son’s daughter… sweet little Celestine deWinter… the girl is so her father, more so than she realizes. On top of that, she has grown up so much. I'm sure her father be so proud of what she has become if he was still around.”

The wicked woman was testing him. Seeing if he would react or not, the spells had twenty years. Part of her wanted him ruined forever, but she had a feeling he needed more time. He was strong willed and his love for his was stronger. The next month would give her a better view on how much the spells had done.

 

[Angelo Cavataio]

Being freed from the cell Angelo was placed felt so alien to him, he was a sleep but same time he had been wide awake. It was just that he did not know how much time had passed. All he knew was what he was put through. Years of being forced to forget love. He was made to forget Asteria and Celestine. All of it erase to serve Petra’s plan. Unlike other of her children, he was handled completely differently.

Angelo hit the ground and slowly got to his knees. All there was in existence was his deity. He existed for the missions. The rage was starting to grow from awakening. He was just a weapon unleashed on targets. This was why he was back. The monster was needed.

However, in Petra’s little taunting about Celestine. There was a voice. It was so small, and soft. It could be barely picked if it spoke out loud. All it had to say was, ‘My Princess’.

Nothing else indicated that the name meant anything. He was just ready to be sent out to carry out his deity's will of destruction.

 

[Petra Cavataio]

There it was. Nothing coming from her boy. Petra was pleased for now. However, she had to push more. With adding, “Of course that girl is at a disadvantaged with a mother like she has. That woman just wastes her time with selling herself to anyone that willing to pay for that ruined body.”

She sat and watched. Pleased with the results again, she got up. “Come, Angelo… time for your missions.”

Then Petra got up. She walked out and told him what he needed to do. “There are outposts… four of them. They belong to different clans.” She told him while walking to the armory. “They never seen or heard of you, so Morte Clan won’t be seen as the one starting the battles. I made sure one was our own outpost. I want no survives and complete destruction. Let that rage flow and share it with all those non-believers.”

Once at the armory, she showed him where they were from the Morte Clan’s stronghold. Then she left him to get ready and do as he was told. Next set of test was to see how extreme he would go on orders.

 

[Angelo Cavataio]

Once again, no reaction from the man. Where twenty years ago, he would attack her for talking about Asteria like that. Now just broken and lost, that little, tiny voice did whisper, “don’t lie about my angel.”

Angelo just followed his mother and listened. He knew the rage. It was what burned inside of him. The power that used to destroyed before was now being called on again. Maybe it being unleashed would get rid of the tiny voice that had such little resistance. He prepared himself in the armory. It was the standard Jai gear and weapons. Nothing super high tech like a lightsaber, and that be because Petra did not want to make it completely easy for him.

Leaving the Morte Clan’s Stronghold, Angelo had a two day walk to the first outpost on his list. The Misty Falls Clan had setup one to try and gain access to some of the resources that Morte Clan was using. Once he got closer, distance was important. Also scouting the area to understand how each person moved and their routine would be. This took a full two days to complete.

On the fifth day, Angelo rained down the destruction. He came from the south of the outpost. Charging towards it, the force was called upon to open the gate. However, it was not just a nice push the gate open. With the rage he was calling up to use in this fight, the gate blasted through the encampment taking everything in its path out. He followed into the opening. With his blades, he began his slaughter fest. Cutting down everyone in path, using the force to choke others to death, even breaking bones with the force, and he even shouted out spells to call up the earth to erupt from under structures.

As the fires began, he focused on using that element in his attacks. The witches were fighting back. He was tossed around a lot which only fueled his rage. The blind rage was too much for the Misty Falls clan to handle. When the dust settled, Angelo was bleeding and limping out of the burning outpost. No one from that encampment lived. Bodies were burned or extremely mutilated, and every building laid wasted. Now leaving, his one-day walk was stretched to three days cause of his injuries.

In the walk, he kept using spells to patch himself up. They were really healing him. He had them more stop any bleeding he had going and setting bones back in place. The pain he did not numb. It was another fuel source of his anger and rage. The one thing that had not dulled for him. His blood was boiling still and there was no signs of it cooling down.

 

[Angelo Cavataio]

The three days become five. He cooled down just enough to think about his current condition. The original plan was hit the targets hard and fast. However, things like breathing easier was more important. He took two days to rest before reaching the next outpost.

Feeling a little better, the Raining Leaves Clan’s outpost was not big. There was a smaller one on the list but at least the largest of the four were handled. Watching the flow of activity, he decided that attacks were going to be at night. The surprise would help him out greatly.

Angelo sat and waited. The time there had him focus on getting angry. Something in his mind pulled up words that Petra had said. It was not he forgot twenty years. He did not have time to think until now. That rage when he was told the love of his life and child were dead back then made his blood fire up again. He should not be caring. Although they were his Angel and Princess. Same time, Petra’s spell was telling him they did not matter ever.

Before noticing because he was focus inside his head, he was walking to the outpost with blades out. It appeared the wait was over, and surprise was not happening. Smaller encampment did not mean less people; however, it did not matter him. Everyone had to die.

Four hours later, Angelo was pulling a knife from his stomach. All around him was rubble. Bodies were piled up and on fire. The buildings were nothing, but the foundation. Pieces of the building were resting over kilometer from the source. Plus, side was he took less hits; however, there were many civilians at the time he came.

Angelo moved on to the next. Not a care about what he did. Even forgot about the thoughts of Asteria and Celestina. The next target was what mattered now, and it was three-day walk.

 

[Angelo Cavataio]

Instead of walking, Angelo ran most of it. He took a long break but kept a good pace running so he would not tired so fast. This outpost was the easiest. The Morte Clan had taken their people out and left corpses in the building. Another plus, maybe, was it was the smallest of the outposts. Petra had this planned and Angelo was the hammer to drive the nail home.

He took his time. Since there was no killing, it was little boring. The old times returned. It was when he made bombs and set them off at specific location as terror attacks. He was doing it now with the outpost. The whole place was rigged with explosives. Complete over kill, he did not care. The blast would be seen and burn for a long time.

Leaving the post, he made sure he got far from it before it went up. The blast was so strong that it still pushed him forward as he walked away. Never looking back. It was added to the group of smoke clouds that he had made over the weeks.

Angelo arrived at the last target during the night. The Nightsisters had left from Morte Clan when Petra disappeared for ten years. There might been talks but he did not know if any happen or was happening. Three clans had their outposts attacked so this one would hope to push the clans into talking with each other. Petra had plans, Angelo was the tool for those plans.

With the surprise of his attack, Angelo made a grand entrance. Leaping high into the sky, he came crashing down in the center of the outpost. He used every ground shaking and manipulative ability to ruin the place. Such each was sending out witches in panic state, they were not awake to handle what came at them. Since he was in the encampment, he cut them down faster. They were thinking it was an attack coming at them from outside of the walls of the outpost.

Fire and smoke filled the area. Petra’s tool walked from the ruined outpost. Pulling a spear head out the upper right shoulder of his, he was heading home. It would not be a peaceful one. There was no fight or rage to focus on. His head only had itself to deal with. The little voice that was barely holding on for dear life in his head was going to use this as a window of opportunity to grow. Anchor itself while the influence of Petra was not so strong.

That desire made the walk home a few more days longer. In his head, it was replaying his reaction to the news of the deaths. Then came the ideas of hope, Petra did say to him that she spoke to Celestine. She had lied to him, but which time was the lie. That was what he had to figure out. If she spoke to her presently than his rage years ago was misplaced. This was the whole walk. He did not stop to sleep. Focus on what were lies and truth.

Another matter came up, if Celestine was alive now, how was it possible? Everything was spiraling out of control in his head. Nothing was making sense. Major of him wanted to find Petra to get it all cleared up. Yet, a piece was screaming not to because more lies would come. It would only become worse.

Arriving at the stronghold, Angelo went back where he was kept. Not sure what he was expecting to find. Like Petra would be just waiting, but there was a datapad on the ground where he was kept for years. Picking it up, there was message from Petra. She had left to handle other matters. There was praises for the fires he started and how proud she was of him. That actually felt good to him. It was not every day Petra said that to her children. However, his job was not done. Another task waited for him. He needed to see Celestine deWitner and tell her a message that was given to him by Petra.

Angelo put the pad down and left the chamber. He was actually going to see Celestine… the [member=Celestine deWinter], who if was the one he knew, then he was going to see his daughter, his Princess.

A tear rolled down his cheek while reentering the stronghold from the hidden chamber.

 

[Celestine deWinter]

Celestine was in the kitchen. Even on a planet like Dathomir, she never forgot the dates, no matter where she was. As she pulled out the small tray from the oven, she remembered the time before her sleep. She remembered all the holidays she had done this. When she was little, it had been her Mother who helped her, and sometimes someone from the staff when she'd been sent to the Red Lady. But Celestine never allowed for the holiday to die out.

Especially not after she had awoken, able to find her Mother but not her Father. The holiday to honor her Father became all the more important now. Applying the brown and gold-green decorations on top of each, Celestine completed the cupcakes. Completely unique, completely designed for her Father. Except, he had never tried them since she'd only come up with them on the very first holiday without him. The dough gave a taste of chocolate spiced with rum, with traces of pistachio within. The chocolate above added decoration. The heart on top was both chocolate and pistachio powder. Celestine knew if her Father was alive, he would have enjoyed these.

If he was alive.

A small smile spread to her face as she completed them, pushing it slightly aside before she took a seat on the table. "Happy Father's Day, papa," Celestine whispered as she took one and smelled it. She was never a particular fan of the rum but she'd grown used to it. Maybe it was Dathomir, it reminded her of him more than other worlds did. Endelaan did but somehow not as much, except for their house. Here though, she felt him more than anywhere else.

One day, she had even caught herself convinced he was alive, that he was here and found herself running through the hallway before she'd made a turn. He wasn't there. Celestine knew that. Maybe Mother was wrong about missing people, on how it hurt too much and it was sometimes best to close off to avoid the pain. But maybe not. Celestine possessed no such gift of disillusion. She loved who she loved and that burned inside her strong. With that thought in mind, she pulled on the heart on one of the finished cupcakes and chewed on it.

[member="Angelo Cavataio"]

 

[Angelo Cavataio]

The task was easy. All he had to do was go up to Celestine and say a few words. Then he could on to the next one that Petra had waiting for him. How difficult can speaking to a person he never met before. Well, yes he has, but she was a child when he last saw her. This woman was her own person, and it was one he never met before.

This could be why the walk was feeling like it was taking months. Both sides of his mind were in a panic like state. Each one was having their own reasons for the being like that. The programmed side was not wanting any mess ups. It wanted a smooth visit of going in, saying what he was tasked to say, and leave. The panic was coming from the unknown. How to react to anything that might happen. So far it only dealt with tasks that were about killing. No one to deal with if they are all dead. This one was about speaking and leaving the person alive.

The other side was panic over other things. He needed to tell the truth and not what was ordered of him. Would he break down in front of her, or biggest one how would she react seeing him? What if she was mad at him for leaving and getting killed. He firmly believed that the truth was still unknown. That deal was just between Petra and him so being killed was an easy and natural leap to get to when dealing with Petra. The unknown was as bad as Petra torturing him.

As Angelo got closer, one thing was clear about what never cross his mind at any moment. His appearance was god awful. Not only was he wearing what put on weeks ago. He was covered in ash, soot, his blood, and the blood of those he killed. It was all the physical evidence needed to place him at all four scenes. This was what happens a brainwashed mind that just focused on completing missions and task for that programmed them. He should have cleaned up, and he could have been more presentable.

However, he was there. Walking through one of the Cavataio homes in the stronghold, it was definitely his old place that was kept for him. It felt smaller and personal compare to what Petra or Lauda's old place were like. There was not a lot of walking; larger homes were like that since the kitchens were more on the outer walls of the mountainside. His had the kitchen towards the back but all the rooms shot off from the entrance way to the back where it opened to a kitchen and balcony. Simply he walked in to the room smelling like freshly baked food.

There she was. His princess, his world actually alive and sitting at the table. The words were there to say. They were easy, cold, unfeeling words that could roll out with ease. However, he was frozen there. His little girl was grown up. It was clear he missed so much. That drove programmed side to cheer and push the idea that he was not even her father. Her father would not just leave and die. If there was love, he would have stayed with her.

Angelo's mind was ripping into each other with fury. Both sides were fought about how right they were. Leaving was cold, dying was escaping from her. It was clear she was nothing to me. Of course, the other side was saying sacrifice was love as she got to live a life over being like his siblings, all dead or hiding from Petra. He was disappearing in his thoughts, fighting for control while standing motionless and a little blank in his gaze.

[member="Celestine deWinter"]

 

[Celestine deWinter]

It was a delicious cupcake, Celestine was aware of it as a fact but normally, when she made it, she didn't quite have the heart to enjoy it because of why she made it. Instead, she just chewed at the heart slowly, thinking about some distant memory. At least inside it, she was laughing, being entertained and being bouncing in the air. Tiny and unaware of the incoming storms. Unaware of the slumber, unaware of the loss. Unaware she was going to wake up one day into a time that wasn't hers, in a time where she no longer recognized her own Mother and yet, knew it was here.

And in a time where she felt her Father sometimes, convincing herself he was right there, only to realize he was in his own way. Weren't the gone always somehow always there? Her papa was, Celestine was sure. Always there, always watching after her. Today, she hadn't fully felt it. Not until a moment ago. Her eyes lifted as she felt it again. For a moment, Celestine had smiled at the feeling. Except, it grew stronger and closer just like it seemed to drift away in the hallways sometimes.

Closer and closer it grew, Celestine forced herself to swallow the piece in her mouth before she put down the remains of the heart next to the cupcake she hadn't touched. There was always the Force.

Then there was [member="Angelo Cavataio"]. Dirty, covered in ash, blood and whatnot. Hardly what she imagine him when she thought of him. Her eyes narrowed as she filled with confusion. She didn't hallucinate, not the way her Aunt did. Never like that. Besides, her illness was different. This was her papa. Who was gone. So why did she seem him so. Celestine stared, noticing the expression on his face. It was blank. That wouldn't fit any sort of hallucinations. Celestine watched as she deducted. He was gone. She wasn't losing her mind. Then perhaps a vision? No, she didn't suffer from those either.

And yet, the beating heart raced of the girl she was, jumping to her feet. "Papa?" She asked. Visions and hallucinations were dangerous. Harmless if unallowed into your mind but still dangerous. She remembered. Was this a sort of game? They always warned her her grandmother was dangerous. Grandmothers were dangerous by default, weren't they? If Scherezade was any proof of it, then all grandmothers were dangerous. This though, didn't feel like a vision or hallucination. It felt like her Father. Worn out, covered in blood, ash, soot... it was him though. He felt like him through the Force.

"You're not real. You can't be." She finally resolved. And if he wasn't real, he was a figment of her imagination. She was tired, she missed him. And with that thought, she picked up the cupcake and held it out. "Happy Father's Day. I wish you were here." It seemed simple. She was tired, her imagination was developed enough. He was gone.

[member="Angelo Cavataio"]

 

[Angelo Cavataio]

Deep inside Angelo was crying for his daughter. He was fighting against the spells like he had been doing; however, it was different now. Celestine was there in front of him. For a moment, he had the upper hand over his mother. Reaching out to the cupcake, his gazed soften and smile crept across his face. He even realized how dirty his hand was and took it back to brush off on his leg. Like that would matter any really with the state his clothes and body were in. It came from habit. Then reached back out for the cupcake, still had dirt and blood on his hand.

Taking the cupcake, he looked at it. The small smile grew larger. Then looked back up at her. Words came, and they were actually his own. A surprise tone in the words as it all dumbfounded him. “How are you still…”

Then Petra’s spell retaliated to his resistance. In his mind, there were two Angelos beating each other senselessly for control. If it was in the world with people and cities, nothing was going to be left standing and all life being ended. As it ended, the spell won over because it cheated with the corruption that flowed through the planet and stronghold.

Angelo’s happy smile turned cold, He dropped the cupcake. Staring at his daughter, empty and cold words poured from his lips. “I am here to tell you good bye… I should have said when I left the first time. I wanted no part of being with you or Asteria so I killed myself to escaped that life with the promise of a better in the future with Goddess. I was never your father and that’s a good thing so you’ll never will see me again.”

Those words had him in screaming and crying to get out. If he ever got free from this, Petra was going to be killed over and over for all eternity by him. However, he was a prisoner in his body that was now turning away from Celestine and leaving her there.

[member=Celestine deWinter]

 

[Celestine deWinter]

The cupcake left her hands. Celestine hadn't expected it to. How are you still...? Half a question formed but she didn't understand what it was that she was being asked. "How am I still what?" She voiced, still feeling the confusion inside her. There was something in the way he had taken the cupcake than cleaned his hands against his pants and then took the cupcake a second time, all before speaking, that made her feel more real than he shouldn't have.

Her memory of him seemed vivid and inaccurate, Celestine decided.

His smile faded, she had seen. It felt like warmth had vanished from the entire room. Her eyes drifted to the cupcake as it felt, convinced that when she looked up again, he would be gone. Still there, her brown gaze registered. I'm here to tell you goodbye..., Celestine heard. Confusion filled her to her very depths. I wanted no part of being with you or Asteria so I killed myself to escape that life with a promise of a better in the future with the Goddess. Confusion vanished from her entire face. It was like she'd been punched in the gut with the entire strength of a fully grown rancor.

And then there was a determination. This wasn't papa. I was never your father and that's a good thing so you'll never see me again. Definitely not papa. Her mind could never cause this illusion, no matter how tired Celestine was in the moment. She could never imagine her papa saying these words. Be careful with her, a voice reached into her mind. Old words, laced with caution as she listened to tales of life on Dathomir. His tales. His stories. His warnings.

Her spine straightened with the cautionary memories. Celestine didn't recognize it immediately but she had learned the behavior of her Mother as she grew. One's heart should be shielded. Not everyone possessed the natural means to guard their own heart, to close it from being hurt. No, Celestine worked for that. "You are not real. My papa is not here. Don't worry, he warned me of her," the deWinter girl responded, putting up her walls around her. There was a girl inside her. Crying, breaking, screaming. Celestine didn't allow her to come out. It took every fiber of her strength to do so, staring down at the mirage in front of her. Not my papa, she kept reminding her as she did. It was the key to strength, the thought that kept her strong.

[member="Angelo Cavataio"]

 

[Angelo Cavataio]

The feet that carried Angelo from outpost to outpost. The same ones that made sure he walked to this very home. They stopped him in his tracks. If it was the spell or himself, they were not moving him forward anymore. As if his limps were in the fight like he was with the spell, his hands were in squeezing tightly. Fists that were ready to punch anything. His feet wanted him to stay and fix it, and his hands wanted to destroy it all… burn it all down.

In Angelo’s mind, the actual fight was happening. Well, it was more like a sit-down and talk it out sort of argument. Both had gotten their punches in, and it was not getting anywhere. So they both agreed to talk it out. The spell knew it would win this way, but Angelo had that belief for himself too. Two bullheaded people that were going to bash words and not their heads.

“Hear that, Angelo… even your daughter agrees with Petra. So why fight it.” The spell started off with. It came out as a shadowy apparition. It did not stay still, but it circled Angelo like he was prey.

“Fight… It is all I have left, and you know it. She wants the rage so here it is.” Angelo replied. He stood his ground. Looking forward, he made sure his voice was strong and backed with power. He was not going to let a spell win and ruin any chance he had to be with his daughter.

“Your mother is proud of what you have done so far for her.” Apparition happily said.

“She is not my mother; Petra is a just genetic donor to my existence. She killed my mother. She always kills everything in my life.” Angelo angrily popped back. Fist was clutched as he stared forward.

“Petra protected you… think about it. Your mother, best friend as a child, the rancors, heck even fighting her are just a few things she protected you from. When it was really you that did it in life. You are not a person. You are just a killing machine built from fire and rage.” The spell gloated and rubbed it in. It paused for the moment before breaking it down to Angelo. “Your mother, the slave, which Petra used because she knew carrying you would be difficult. She was feeding you, and you didn’t want to eat. What did you do when you did not want something? Well, you took the spoon and buried it in the woman’s skull. How was that Petra’s fault?”

The apparition chuckled lightly before continuing his assault of words. “Now let’s talk about that friend… oh yeah, you bashed his head against the floor because he took something that you weren’t using but was in front of you. The poor boy’s brain was all over the room by the time anyone could get in the room. That fire was intense and almost melted that door into the wall. Then the rancors, oh poor…” It was going to dig deeper, but Angelo pipped up.

“Stop… I did nothing to my mother, and that quote friend was forced to be there, and he hated me anyways. That was me, I know, and I cannot fix that. But, the rancors and anything after was me protecting. I was using my rage to keep my family safe. I had to do something. I worked hard to make up for my mistakes and did well as protector.” Angelo was feeling sure of himself. “When the wild bull rancor cross paths with Lauda, she wanted to make a friend and be sweet to it, but it was wanted to eat her. I was there… I made sure it never harm her. I…”

Then the voice stopped him, “You slaughtered that creature in front of your sister. After you beat it to death with its own arm. You kept going until it was torn to pieces and you stood in the middle of what was its body while covered in its guts and blood. Who are you protecting with that twist of a memory?”

“I’m not protecting myself. I was going to get there, but you jumped in butthead. After a couple of times like that, I did leave. I was forced to leave, but I left. And, Nox was only one that took me in after the event.” Angelo paused to give him a moment.

The voice did not need a moment, and it was happy to remind him of what caused him to leave. “The one you killed Tony in front of Serva, Lauda, and Petra? Oh, that was perfect… he did not see you coming. That rage was pure, and Petra loved it. It was good thing Petra stepped in to stop you. Also, good thing she was there to bring him back.”

Angelo shouted as loud as he could at the voice, “STOP!” Then took a moment to get himself in line. He began telling it how it was going to be now. “Yes, I did that… She drove us to that point. Petra is nothing; she is the true monster. We all knew she manipulates everything and she pushes the rage out for her amusement. Once I was with Nox, I saw it all. He showed me past that none of us knew. The man went through hell, and he was still fighting against her.”

“He told me about his family. I never knew he had a wife, children, grandchildren, and the family went on from there. So many that were his and loved. Then she took it all away. She used his great-great-grandchild to kill his family off. He had to stop it and not her. She sat and watched. Nox never knew why it happens until I showed up and unloaded on him.”

“When he killed S’it Hri and his daughter, Ammit, he heard what I heard when I killed the rancor to protect Lauda. A song… it was played and made no sense from where. I heard it after that day from everywhere. Lauda had it and Serva, Tony, and so on… they all had it, and all I felt was strong need to protect to my very last breath. Then Nox clued me in why I heard and why Petra had him go after Tony. It was a test to ensure those songs could be ignored by me. She was doing what she did to S’it Hri but now aimed at me. He said that it was tied in with some spells that she and Nox’s father did. Could have been multiple spells from the Sith that did this us.”

“Nox just kept going about why there are so many of us. How she was worse than energy, life, and all other vamps in the galaxy. She devours worlds, souls, life, and even her family. He believed that she wasn’t even a person but some Sith spawn created for a mission in the future, and she was just kicking back and waiting for that time to come.” Angelo had rambled on and needed to refocus. However, it felt good to unload what he kept buried deeply. He never told any other family members about it. Nox was only one he felt close enough to let him when it came to his family.

The voice only added to the chat. “Now that you know the truth… what are you going to do about it?”

“I already tried and failed. This is why I’m in this situation now.” Angelo replied with a disappointment in his voice. He did fail to end it all. Now he was hurting his daughter, and he could not figure out a way to fix it. He was going to know she was alive and he would not be able to be part of it.

The spell gleefully declared. “Oh, you had another out, but you failed to see the large picture. One that has to do with Celestine.”

Rage boiled up as the spell said his daughter’s name. He yelled at it with hate laced in the tone. “Don’t ever say her name… she has nothing to do with this. This is all my mess, and Petra is testing me while torturing me.”

“One you are an idiot and two, let’s walk it so your little brain can understand… so let’s start with Asteria, and how you felt about her.” Proudly it said to Angelo.

“So what, I felt more as peace around her, and enjoyed every moment I spent with her.” Angelo simply replied with. He did not want to focus on Asteria. It hurt too much that he was not with her and Celestine. It was eating at him on the deepest levels.

“Oh, come on… stop it, admit it to yourself.” Annoyed voiced came back with

Having to face the music and actually speak about it, Angelo started his tone with a warm tone that was hiding the underlining feeling, the love he had for Asteria. “That I loved her with everything, she was my world, and with her, there was nothing I couldn’t do. That even my rage was controlled, and in focus, it was so easy to use and put it away because of her. I realized with her, I was a person and not Petra’s monster.”

“And where did that lead to?” It was direct and simple. The apparition wanted Angelo to move to the point since he missed it the first time.

Angelo words grow more loving and proud. Everything about his daughter was perfect. He did not deserve her in his life, and he was there. He made damn sure he did everything to earn the honor of being her father. Saying her name made him smile, “Celestine… my princess, my world… everything I was, and when I held her for the first time, it was the first time I cried. Ever in my life, I never shed a tear, and she changed that with the joy I had.”

Knowing more, the spell poked the bear. “Oh, that wasn’t joy. You had feared. You were feeling dread in the deepest parts of your mind.”

“No… I was so happy that day. You can’t take it away.” He quickly replied to the voice. He did not want his feelings perverted by a spell that tortured him for twenty years.

It did not like what Angelo said so it a different approach to getting what it wanted. “You held your child and felt joy maybe but tell me what also you felt.”

Angelo did not want to admit to it. He had pushed it down for so long, but there was the truth. One that maybe could help him get out of the spell. “Fine… I held my daughter; I saw the most beautiful being in my arms. My own daughter there in my arms… I swore to her nothing would happen to her. She would have the best life I could provide her without repeating what happened in my family.”

“And… what all did you feel?” Apparition knew he was making headway with Angelo now.

Angelo felt so bad that even in the real-world tears were streaking down his dirty cheeks. Crying over his daughter again, she was only way could get a reaction like this, if only she knew what was happening. That he actually felt what he was going to say next, the shame he had to admit to any of it. “Fear, weakness, helplessness… I wanted to hide; I wanted to get them away from it all so Petra could not touch them. Holding my daughter, I heard that song… my own one and it was violent and filled with rage. My daughter, who was just born was already a victim of Petra’s games, and I caused it. I couldn’t have stopped it. I doomed my child from the start. How could I protect her?”

In his head, he continued with talking to the spell. Tears were rolling down, and he was breaking down in his own mind. He always fought head on, and he was admitting to hiding. “So, I protected by hiding Celestine. It was working fine until I got word of Nox’s death. I don’t know if the need to protect the rest of the family caused it or seeing him as sort of father with everything I went through. I did leave from hiding to face Petra.”

“Come on… you know what I’m looking for you to admit to.” The spell was happy with how it was going, but it wanted this to end since it could taste the victory.

“The deal?” Playing a little dumb because he was trying to protect himself as his heart was breaking.

“Oh, that is nice, but I want that caused it. I want to hear you admit to yourself again why the deal exists and why Celestine isn’t going to keep her father around this time too.” Apparition wanted the victory and the lap after to rub it in Angelo’s face.

Angelo did not want to say it. He had lost, and Petra got her monster back. “You win… let’s just leave.”

Oh, how the spell was little disappointed that he caved in before admitting everything. So it pushed for what it wanted. “NO!... I want those words now, Angelo.”

“The deal that caused my death…” Yeah, he was going to dance around it because it was hurting him so much. “The deal was done in blood and magic. That one to ensure Asteria and Celestine lived full lives without Petra harming them or anyone she might send at them.”

“Come on, just say it.” The voice was getting impatience with Angelo, and the tone was reflected in it.

Sighing, he gave in. He started to sound broken as he talked. The truth was he was tired and despair was setting in. “Fighting Petra, seeing how everything I did ended being nothing. I saw what Nox meant. My rage was fuel for her and not me. I wore myself out for nothing. Then it hit me… I was S’it that Nox talked about. Then the realization about my daughter being the next Ammit. I could not take it anymore. We were going to be killers for Petra’s amusement and food supplier. I couldn’t allow that for my daughter.”

“Yes… two to purge the tree and fuel the Goddess in her mission from thousands of years ago. And this deal… what was it in detail.” Happily, was its voice as it got what it wanted.

“The deal…” Angelo looked down as he pictured his Celestine in his arms for the first time. Tears flowing so easily. Crying in his mind and real-world as he told the spell what he did next, “I offered myself to whatever madness she had planned. I would be the sword that slaughters everything, but she could not harm Asteria and Celestine. None of her slaves, hunters, and anything else she could think of to harm the two. They were completely safe forever from Petra. I surrender all my happiness, love and time to ensure the deal happen. All eternity as Petra’s monster.”

The voice was done, it knew it was done here and they could leave without Angelo fighting. It had him admit the deal. However, the spell was self-learning, so it could not help but to ask, “And, how did that turn out?”

“I was ordered to kill myself. I did not want to do, but I did it. I put my hilt on my chest and ignited the blade. I was surprised that felt at peace because the last thoughts I had were Asteria and Celestine were safe now. I had protected them with my last breath.” Angelo collapsed to the ground with in his mind. He knelt there broken.

The spell was happy, and it told him how it was going to happen now. “Now that you are back… you have a deal to fulfill. That’s why I am here. You caused this. Now the only way to ensure you live up to the deal is to have me in control. Let’s remind you what happen if you break the deal, poor Celestine will be killed. Petra doesn’t want that to happen, so she put me in here to remind you that you have a job.”

“I don’t care… I will do what she wants.” It was true, he was going to body. He was still protecting his daughter and Asteria. “I don’t need you here because this last order was awful. There was a better way to handle this, and she would get what she wanted.”

“Oh really, do share with the class.” This perked up the spell. It wanted to learn and see different angles to better control Angelo. It entertained the idea.

“A day with her, let her have closure and see that her father is proud of who she is now. That’s all… nothing big, just be a human for a change and not the normal monster.” It was simple, and it was only hope Angelo had so he reached for it. Maybe it would save him or make this all hurt a little less.

The spell actually checked with its creator. Since it was amusing Petra to see all this from the spell, it happily told Angelo the good news. “We can do that and maybe allow it for the next one. But, I will pull the plug if I don’t like what I see because we know I’m in charge or the deal ends, and I make you kill them with a smile on your face, got it?”

“Fine, I can live this.” Angelo agreed to terms so he could speak to his daughter. Be able to say what was on his mind and heart, redo what was just said to her. This was enough to get him pick himself up and ready himself. Although he was focused on what was about to happen. He did not miss what the spell had said about next one. Thoughts about that would have to wait. There was something bigger to deal with it now.

In the real-world, Angelo turned around. Hands released to become open. He moved closer to Celestine. He was a wreck. Streaks of through his dirt, blood covered cheeks. All he could in the moment was wrapped his arms around her. It felt like words would come out meekly while he was regaining himself. So, he fought harder to get a hold of himself for his daughter.

Hugging her lovingly like he had once done long ago, a fatherly kiss was planted on top of Celestine’s head. He did not want to let go. It was a feeling that he missed so much. As much as he needed this, it was still crushing his heart. He did not know how she would react and he felt like the damage was done. He was mentally grasping for anything to fix it. Some words were thought up and he knew how to do it.

The warm, loving voice of old came out as he needed it now. “I am your father, my princess… No matter what is going on with me. I will also be your father, and no one can ever take that away from you in this life time or next.”

[member="Celestine deWinter"]

 

[Celestine deWinter]

The mirage had already attempted to break her heart. What more could it do to her now? Why was it still here? Celestine stood, trying to keep her shield of ice up but she was only its child. Inside her, there had always been a battle of ice and fire and more often than not, fire won over. Now, it was threatening to do the exact same thing with this falsehood. Celestine knew her Father, knew he would never speak words this mirage had had. Why Mother would be willing to send her to the land where he had grown, where she was under the thumb of her grandmother baffled Celestine. She had said it was because of her future, because of the day she would take of the Red Lady but Celestine wondered. Was that education worth the danger?

Her head turned slightly towards him when she heard the words. Fight, he had said. It was what he had left. She wanted the rage... Her lips parted barely an inch as she considered a response. There is a time for everything and everything has its time, Mother's lesson stilled her, her lips pressing firmly together as she stopped herself. The mirage continued talking. Petra is a genetic donor to my existence. She killed my mother. She always kills everything in my life, she heard the words. Something inside her burned, recognized. Was it a trick? Was this another trick when attempting to break her hadn't resulted as it should have. Her hand reached for the side of the corner as she stilled her, kept the child inside her at bay.

I did nothing to my mother, he had said. I was using my rage to keep my family safe. None of this had rung familiar in her mind. I made sure it never harm her. He spoke of her Aunt, spoke of her making friends with a bull rancor. She remembered her Aunt, the way she was with the rancors though this story was one she didn't know and since her arrival, she hadn't seen her even if the Witches spoke of her. She was near, on the territory but she wasn't here. She was far gone, the Witches had warned her. I was forced to leave, but I left. And, Nox was the only one that took me in after the event. She knew of her Uncle, the one that had no place in the stronghold... The one who lived his life as a criminal. Only her Father spoke well enough of him.

By now, Celestine was sure he was holding a conversation she was only partially privy to. Partially aware and hearing only him. Was he real? Those words, the very first words he had told her had meant to break her. What was this now? Was it intended to lure her in and to truly break her? Most of what he said were not stories Celestine knew at all and yet, they all led to what she very much did know. Grandmother was dangerous. Petra is nothing; she is the true monster. We all knew she manipulates everything.., she heard, inhaling a sharp breath. The walls built to protect her were breaking. Celestine could almost see the way they cracked even if they were nothing but a figment of her mind, an illusion to keep herself safe. She devours worlds, souls, life, and even her family. He kept going, talking, responding, explaining. The more he spoke, the more the mirage sounded like her papa. The more she could see him even when he wasn't even looking at her now.

This is all my mess, and Petra is testing me while torturing me. More cracks as it began to melt. She was not of ice, it couldn't protect her. Not when she recognized him in the words. So what, I felt more as peace around her and enjoyed every moment I spent with her. Mother. Mother. Without a doubt, Celestine could hear him talking about Asteria deWinter even if he didn't call her so. That I loved her with everything, she was my world, and with her, there was nothing I couldn't do. That even my rage controlled, and in focus, it was so easy to use and put it away because of her. I realized with her, I was a person and not Petra's monster. She took the smallest step forward, her hand holding on tighter to the counter. Celestine attempted to will herself not to be deceived, not to be manipulated. Mother had told the story only once of her own Mother. Of her other grandmother. The story of how Boadicea had taken her body, she had shown her the stars from the battle. It wasn't the lesson though, the lesson was the ice her grandmother portrayed at their very next meeting. Distant, cold, mother to another child.

Whether Lady deWinter had intended to or not, she taught her daughter an invaluable lesson that day. Not just of Shery deWinter but of parents and family in general. Your own flesh and blood could betray you. That was the day Celestine had given Jhoren another purpose, had him become her eyes and ears within the Red Lady.

Celestine... my princess, my world, she heard and froze, brown eyes staring into the figure. He was talking about her. I never shed a tear, and she changed that with the joy I had. Could her grandmother even know this? Celestine knew. Her mother had told her when she was little. I was so happy that day. You can't take that away... I swore to her nothing would happen to her. He did swear. He did promise. And until the day she had been put to her long sleep, nothing bad had ever happened to her. She lived a happy childhood, loved and protected. She remembered it through her feelings even more than just vivid memories. She was loved. By both of her parents. And they loved each other. And all those memories never had her doubt that her Father loved her or that he loved her Mother. Not for a moment, a split second even. She heard what had happened to her grandparents, the way they had grown out of love for each other and abandoned each other. That hadn't happened to her parents. In fact, that feeling alone solidified her belief that her Father was dead. Because he would have never abandoned them of his own choice. If there was a choice, he would have returned to them. Always.

He wanted to hide them from all so Petra couldn't touch them. This was what she knew. Her protection was not of the galaxy or the Jedi. Endelaan was where she had spent most of her life because of her. ...was already a victim of Petra's games, and I caused it. She listened, unable to even produce a word, unable to speak. Was this what had meant to be a Cavataio? A victim of her grandmother's games? Then why had Mother sent her here of all places? Why? Why? Why? She could hear her own mind screaming. Her Mother was supposed to protect her when Father was gone. Then why did she send her here, to Dathomir of all place, where she was at the very reach of her grandmother? I protected by hiding Celestine. Father hid her, protected her. Mother sent her away. Why, Mother? Was she just so far gone that she didn't care for her? Had she cast her out for Petra to do what she didn't want to bother? Was she the bother? Had she become a pest to her own Mother who used to love her. Celestine could swear once that despite the ice in her Mother's heart, she loved her. Now, listening to him argue with whatever voice she couldn't hear, she couldn't tell anymore.

Or was this the manipulation? The thought had jumped into her mind.

She couldn't break her love for papa. Perhaps it was easier to poison her against her Mother. Wasn't that the fate of all deWinters?

Celestine froze again. The deal was done in blood and magic. That one to ensure Asteria and Celestine had full lives without Petra harming them or anyone she might send at them. If she was being manipulated against her own Mother, why would he say this why would he...? Celestine felt the exact moment as the illusion of ice vanished from around her heart and fire erupted. Anger. It was always Petra. It was always as he warned her. Her lip quivered. "Papa...," there was almost no sound to her word as she saw. What she had felt this all time, feeling him present. I would be the sword that slaughters everything but she could not harm Asteria and Celestine. One truth. A deal. One life for two. One soul for their safety. An eternity as her monster. And that was why her parents would never be Shery and Lorcan. Why Celestine held justified faith in their love. It was reasonable.

A day with her, let her have closure..., she still heard as the anger kept rising inside her. The fire inside her had begun to burn, heat spread just beneath her flesh. She was burning on the inside for what had been done to her family. And now she had been sent here. Like a pig for slaughter. Into the hands of the woman from whom she had been hidden from, protected from, kept from. It wasn't her Father's love Celestine she doubted now. It was her Mother's soul. The villain of this story was clear as it had always been and yet, another formed. If she hadn't been sent, she wouldn't have been here, wouldn't have only affirmed in her mind what she knew and wouldn't have been a day. As if it was ever enough.

He approached her, Celestine hadn't even noticed when he had turned to face her again. She was burning up, her skin began to give away traces of smoke as it threatened to erupt. Never had her anger been so strong the way it was now, never had it boiled straight through her skin. His hand wrapped around her, his words came out. His papa. He would feel it. I will also be your father, she heard him say before she attempted to break away. "No!" Celestine had screamed, breaking out of his touch, feeling her flesh burning. Only one didn't deserve this fire. Not after what he had been through.

"She did this. She destroyed everything," the woman shouted. Her brown gaze wasn't brown anymore, it was red and yellow with the burning fire inside her. "And now I've been sent for slaughter, for the games. And for one day?! One?! When is one ever going to be enough, papa?" Her heart was racing so fast, loudly into her ears. One was never going to be enough.

[member="Angelo Cavataio"]

 

[Angelo Cavataio]

Angelo did not see Celestine’s reaction coming a mile away. It took a hot second for him to realized that Petra’s games were still going on. As he was made to remember and accept his place, his words were not in his head like he thought. The damn witch was manipulating it all and she was nowhere in sight. He wanted to hunt her down and rip her apart; however, there was a bigger issue in front of him.

Could a father be so proud and worried? There stood the living proof of what he feared. His own curse inside another. Part of him was so happy to see this side, a force that could destroy everything in her path. Yet, he knew this was what Petra wanted. It had to be stopped. That was one thing he did not know because normally it was him in Celestine’s shoes.

Placing his hands on her shoulders, he leaned down to be eye level with her. Those eyes as he looked at them, it made him wonder if his became like that or were always. He never really looked at himself. There was pain and disgust when he saw himself.

Angelo stared down the barrel of the blaster. He was going to try something he never done before, calm a person down with words. Oh, how he was hating Petra even more now for all this. Making sure there was no confusion, he tried to make sure his words firm and loud enough to get pass the fire in his daughter. “Celestine Shery Artemia Cavataio…” Yes, Angelo just used Cavataio. She was so being his daughter that it was a little difficult to see a deWinter in there. “Look at me, and see me… You were not sent for slaughter. Of all the people in this galaxy, you are safe, you are protected from that sunt of a woman, Petra.” He paused for a moment, this was so above his paid grade. He was fish out of water just flapping around the ground. Still, she was his daughter so tried some more. “Do you see me? And, don’t you know one always becomes two that becomes three and so on. It is never enough, and it is why fight and take so we can have more. But, don’t forget to enjoy the moment and small victories because everything counts… so focus, look at me and see me here now. Don’t let this rage give her the victory, relax and let’s have the victory instead, my princess.”

[member="Celestine deWinter"]

 

[Celestine deWinter]

His hands still came to her shoulders as he stared her down. "Papa, no," Celestine still tried to protest, the fire still burning inside her. Her skin was burning, she didn't want to harm her Father when he was here, in the flesh. It was the last time Celestine ever wanted, to hurt her parents.

Brown eyes stared into a burning flame, her anger still growing as he did. Celestine felt started as Father called her by her full name, calling her Cavataio instead of deWinter as he did. She hadn't expected it. Father continued to try to calm her, telling her to look and him. You were not sent for slaughter, she heard him say, you are safe, you are protected from that sort of a woman, Petra." Her eyes narrowed as she stared back. "Safe? How I am safe?" How could she possibly be safe? After all that she knew? After what she had been through?

Do you see me? Celestine did see him now, that was the problem. And she knew. "You killed yourself to protect me," she responded instead. It is never enough, and it is why fight and take so we can have more. He knew what she meant. His words promised two out of one and three out of two though. It helped calm her slowly. She continued to stare at the flame inside her began to decrease. Don’t let this rage give her the victory, relax and let’s have the victory instead, my princess. She shouldn't have let Petra win. She should never have let her win, no matter what. "Never," Celestine swore with no more than a whisper as the heat began to lessen from within as hands still burning rose and rested above his elbows. She was still burning, she could feel it at her fingertips as she did but it was calming, weakening at his words.

Small victories. He wanted her to take small victories. Normally, Celestine knew how to take small victories because one by one they formed a greater victory. The anger was fading though, enough that she leaned towards him, letting herself fall into her Father's embrace. "I missed you," she finally whispered, brown eyes closing.

 

[Angelo Cavataio]

It was heartbreaking to his child this way. A parent never wishes for their children to inherit the negative aspects of themselves. Always wanting the best for them. Here was one thing that his child was displaying that was not wished on any one. Sadly, there was a piece of him that actually loved this. His daughter’s rage was one thing that was his. No one could take that away. His song was hers and as much as he hated it. The piece of him enjoyed, well better way of saying it, he reveled in the violent and raging song.

Angelo welcome his girl into his arms. As she fell into him, he straightened up. It was not from being awkward about hugs. He had been leaning down a bit to be eye level with her. The hug would have been the oddest thing in the ‘verse. Properly standing, he embraced his daughter. His arm wrapping around and pulled her closely. Other arm moved back too; his hand cradled her head.

Holding his adult daughter, an idea he needed to deal with soon. He clearly missed so much of her life as it was. One subject he was not sure where to start with. Focusing on hugging Celestine, he happily replied to her whisper. “I missed you too, my princess… we have a lot of catching up to do.”

[member="Celestine deWinter"]

 

[Celestine deWinter]

Father felt reveal as he hugged her back, holding her as she leaned into him. Her eyes closed, feeling the fire inside her completely calm in his embrace. He revealed. Now Celestine felt it. She had thought him an illusion, a direct result of her tiredness and living in his apartment all this time, convinced she had been picking up on an old signature. How could she have? It had been centuries now, it was only in her memories where it had been far less. Not even a full two years since she had woken, not even longer than that that she had last seen him. It all felt fresh, near to her despite the real time passed.

He missed her too, he had a lot of catching up, Celestine heard him say and found herself letting out a small smile. When is one ever going to be enough, papa? Her own words flashed in her mind as she felt salt against her lips. Tears. She was crying now. Celestine didn't cry anymore just like Mother didn't. She didn't let herself be shown weak. Not among the Red Lady, not among the Dathomirians. Because she wasn't. She was a deWinter and a Cavataio, a princess, protector of the rancors. Tears had no place on her face. Even if these tears were happier than said.

Inhaling a deep breath, Celestine sought to ground herself before she had begun to pull away from his embrace. "Yes. I made you cupcakes," she announced after a moment. "Pistachio, chocolate, and rum. The chef in the Red Lady helped me create the recipe," Celestine revealed as she moved out, still trying to stop the tears as she took another from the plate and offered to him again. If they were starting with just one day, then Celestine intended on using that day. Enjoy the moment and small victories, he'd said. All the while a singular thought formed in her mind: She will not win.

[member="Angelo Cavataio"]

 

[Angelo Cavataio]

Feeling Celestine move from him, Angelo did not want the hug to end. He had a lifetime of hugs that he missed out. His little girl had grown up which he was rob from experiencing. He should have been feeling the rage in him coming out; however, it was not because there was despair in him. It was breaking him. A lifetime of carrying out Petra’s orders while knowing his daughter was alive and at times nearby. This game Petra was playing was going to end how she never would expect. Angelo swore to that in his head.

Right now, Angelo needed to cover up and sadness and heartbreak he knew that was coming. He had this moment with the one thing he did right with life. To ruin this would be what another wanted, he needed to bring his A-game. His daughter did not need to know anymore. It’s clear that he had dumped a lot of the family’s dirty laundry. Still, it was good that significant amount of it was not shared. His deal might be able to protect her from Petra’s wrath then.

The job of the father to protect was not over. He had to do it now. More than ever, his girl was announcing what she had done. He knew what she was really thinking. It was the same as his, but he really could not allow her to act on her thoughts. That was what his words were about to say; however, he caught himself. The talk over those thoughts needed to wait. He had cupcakes to taste and praises to his daughter.

Taking the cupcake, Angelo actually went for it. They were his favorite flavors. The ice cream he had always had those three items. “You remember after all this time?” Slightly questioning but more amazed at her daughter. He took a bit into the cupcake. The flavors brought him back to a time to his life was better than any other moment. A time that he would finish is desert, and his daughter would run up, wanting to sit in lap to hear stories. Wild ones that he changed only slightly so the truth could be hidden still while educating her about Dathomir and his family’s long history.

It was what Angelo needed. He could push everything to the side. The best thing in his life reminded him where to focus. Only words his mouth could make came out happily with a hint of cupcake still in his mouth. “Thank you for this, princess… thank you for remembering me.”

[member="Celestine deWinter"]

 

[Celestine deWinter]

After all this time? "It hasn't been that long for me, papa. I've only been awake for two years." The centuries meant nothing to Celestine other than knowledge of time passed. They hadn't passed for her, not in real time. No, it had only been two years. What had passed before that was another subject but Celestine's memories were untouched. She remembered everything, even the memories that weren't real. Like every inch of this apartment, she had known it from the moment she'd stepped in, finding it with an ease. No one had given Celestine these chambers, she had chosen them for herself. Even when a fraction of her mind reminded her that what she remembered from her childhood wasn't real at all, that it was something planted into her head when she was a child, Celestine still vividly knew every corner of the apartment as if she had been brought here for real as a child.

"I remember everything," Celestine said after a moment, smiling at him as he tried the cupcakes she had made, waiting to find out if he liked them. She did, she'd come to like them more because of her memories. Her half-eaten cupcake lay on the table behind her but she no longer thought of it, waiting only to find out if Father liked what she made. When he spoke, it was to thank her for them, for remembering him. "I always remember," she told him.

Truth was, not everything came from her own memories. There was a long time growing up when Mother could speak of him when she'd sit with her and talk about Father. Small details, moments in their life. She didn't anymore. It was a subject her Mother couldn't engage in. Even what she knew about her time with Jhoren was not something Asteria could admit herself. The knowledge came from Jhoren, not her. "What I don't remember from you, Mother told me many times when she could still talk about those times," she admitted. Felt like so long ago now even if it had been just a few years for her, she knew it had been longer for Asteria. She saw that in the way Mother had changed, in the time she'd been active. It was a number of factors that helped her see that.

[member="Angelo Cavataio"]