I sat beside Leonide who drove the automobile through the city I knew so well but which also was completely foreign to me. I remember the city before the bombardments during the Second World War. I cherished that city but as it was destroyed we rebuild the broken building making each building seem new even as it was hundreds of years old. The city grew as we rebuilt, we were determined to build it better than it was before. Maybe, as a way to heal our grief over the lost city. We have bestowed the nickname Miracle City as we grew into one of the most successful cities in Italy in mear years. A testament to the perseverance of the people of Torino.
“What’s the matter, bambina?” Leonide asked as he noticed my aloof gaze.
“As a human, I was proud of my city. All I saw was the wealth. We rebuilt from nothing and raised ourselves above our mournful past,” I said solemnly.
“And now?” he asked and I snorted.
“All I could see in the past was the wealth. How could I miss what was right in front of me?” I muttered while watching all the beggars and protesters filling every corner of the city as we drove by.
“Why are there so many poor people? Why are so many angry? We fought off the communists, we rebuilt our city. We amassed great wealth, We should be contented with our lives.”
Leonide snorted as he listened to me. “You fought off a communist. The rest of the world still suffers from the real beast which you people let live.”
I turned to Leonide and studied his bitter face. “You are talking about the Soviet Union.”
“Of course I am. My land suffers underneath there threat. Starving and fearing for our lives while other countries pretend like they aren’t threatened by nuclear war and poverty.”
“You speak as you are still a human,” I concluded and he laughed humorlessly.
“I have only been an Ascendant for mere 30 years. I lived through the First and Second World War. I have seen the hubris of humans and their inability to see beyond their border.”
“Tell me, bambina! Have you ever left your city? Seen what life is outside of this glorious city of yours? The people are starving. They have no wealth to rebuild and has no modern conveniences. People still use horse and carriage while trying farm food for the winter to survive. There are no hospitals, no schools, and no work. You can walk to the cinema and watch Hollywood show you the glamorous modern time but this decade will not be defined by wealth and glamour but of poverty, strife, and fear.”
“You are quite the pessimist, Leonide!” I said leisurely while watching the rebuilding of a local church before giving him a soothing smile.
“Maybe it will also be defined by change and advancement.”
“And you are quite the optimist, Signora Di Santis. All I have seen is a larger gap between classes and dangerous idealists getting far more destructive weapons,” Leonide replied with a dreary smile.
Leonide parked the automobile and we walked to San Francesco d’Assisi. The building was not the largest of churches but not the smallest either. Columns were carved into the marble façade in order to give the building the look of a Roman temple. Three giant entrances with crest decorated above them, stood open for guests and the oval window reflected the sky as they approached. They had decided to avoid the crowd of Sunday service and went on Monday instead. The sun was high, much to Leonide’s dismay, but it was necessary as it gave me strength before we went down into the dark catacombs.
We approached the main entrance to enter San Francesco d’Assisi when I heard a familiar voice sound behind me. I turned around to come face to face with a friend of my mother. Signora Di Bernadone was a bit older than my mother but had been a constant presence during my upbringing and a dissident to my family’s decision to allow me to study at the university. She always told them that a lady doesn’t need higher education, it would wither my mind and dissuade potential husbands for wanting me.
Papa disagreed, he thought a woman needed a good education to become a good wife and mother. Learning about creativity would make me sensitive and gentle which was crucial for a good wife and mother.
Signora Di Bernadone walked closer to us with her husband Signor Di Bernadone. I cannot for the life of me remember their names. Signora Di Bernadone displayed a visage of pretentiousness and gave Leonide a glare as he gifted her with a charming smile. She had a colorful blue dress with white gloves and a large hat with a colorful feather which swayed in the wind. Her grey hair tightened in a bun and she wore no makeup as she considered it to be for harlots.
“What are you doing being dressed like that? Your mother would faint if she saw you!” Signora Di Bernadone exclaimed while gesturing toward my pants. I had decided that pants were more practical for a visit to the catacombs. She apparently didn’t agree.
“My mother is no longer in this world as you sure know,” I muttered bitterly and Signora Di Bernadone huffed at my disrespect.
“A good thing that or she would have a heart attack!”
“Now, now! A sad occurrence. You have my condolences. It must be terribly lonely in that mansion all by yourself. Not to mention it’s not good for a young lady to be by herself. You should come over to our house for a visit. Our son, Paolo, has just come home from his studies in Rome. I’m sure he would be happy to meet such a lovely lady as yourself,” Signor Di Bernadone chuckled and I could discern the greed behind his suggestion. Now that I have become the heir to my father’s fortune, I had constantly been barraged by families introducing their sons single or widowed sons to me. Some were twice my age.
The Di Bernadone had been one of the most successful families in the cities but they lost all their hotel business when the bombs fell onto the city 1940—1945. Signora Di Bernadone always speaks of the horror of those times as her eldest son had died in the war and how she pulled through it. Though, in fact, she, her husband and their youngest son fled the city and forced their workers to take care of the hotels during the bombardments.
My family had refused to leave their home, my father had helped the Italian forces the best he could as a telegrapher. He had been too old for service and had no sons to send to war. Though I did lose my brother and uncle in the war. My aunt died later on during the strike for peace during the reads 1943. I still remember the horrifying day my papa told my twelve-year-old self that I had lost my lovable aunt. It broke my heart as she and I had been close. It was she that encourage me to get an education. She told me that education is the future of women. Without it we will suffer.
“Yes, you should visit Paolo. He has become quite the fetching man!” Signora Di Bernadone gushed as she had caught onto her husband's machinations.
That was a falsehood. I have already met her son a few days before my family had deceased as my father apparently had found the boy worthy of my attention. He had grown into quite the surly man who kept insulting my lack of intelligence and mentioned how futile it was for a woman to study at the university. He was short but twice a normal man's size as he had discovered his fondness for chocolate. The entire conversation was about my lack of intelligence, my need for a husband or that I have to take care so I don’t become unattractive.
Considering the men I have encountered the last couple of months since my family’s departing, Paolo was not much of an adversary for them.
“I’m sure he is but you will need to talk to my guardian for such thing,” I said shyly and their lighten mood darken.
“You have no guardian, my dear,” Signora Di Bernadone mused.
I gave her a self-assured smile. I had asked Alessandro and Carlo for help. Both of them have pretended to be uncles to me from my mother’s side in order to avoid legal disputes. I still have control over my assents, but I won’t have to risk losing my wealth because of my gender or unmarried status.
“Of course I have. My two uncles from my mother side, Alessandro Borgia and Carlo Orsini! They were so kind as to come to me in my hour of need,” I exclaimed dramatically.
“I was your mother’s dearest friend and she never mentioned any brothers,” Signora Di Bernadone flustered.
“Apparently not dear enough as my mother had a brother, Alessandro Borgia, and a sister who married Carlo Orsini. Or what did you think my mother’s maiden name was?” I asked confusedly. I heard Leonide snicker in the background.
“I never-“
I interrupted Signora Di Bernadone’s riot as I had no intention of awaiting for her conclusion to this conversation. I had a task to accomplish.
“You must pardon me, I have an appointment with a priest for an urgent matter,” I pardoned myself and walked towards the church with Leonide at my heel.
I heard Signora Di Bernadone comment that at least I went to church even if I had no knowledge of which was the correct day to visit. I had not been Sunday’s service since my parents died. Mostly, because I seemed to have lost all faith in God since I have witnessed what lurked in the dark. God would not let such atrocities go unpunished if he truly existed.
We entered the church and I sighed in relief to get rid of the Di Bernadone. The sight of the golden arch roof and colorful frescoes gave me comfort and I felt nostalgia wash over me in tides as I watched my childhood church. It had survived the bombardments of Torino with only minor blemishes. I could see the chapel of the Immaculate Conception and the Chapel of the Guardian Angel. The main altarpiece displays the Madonna with little baby Jesus. I remember praying at this church feeling wonder from its beautiful design. Who would have known that one day I would actually meet angels and demons?
“Over here!”
Leonide’s rushed whisper pulled me out of my now distant memories and we sneaked into the cellar. It was filled with dusty books and worthless rattle. Leonide grimaced as he cleared the way to a strange looking carving in the wall. It depicted a gargoyle with a ring in its mouth, similar to the ones usual hanging from doors.
“What is it doing here?” I asked confusedly as it truly stood out.
“It has been here since the creation of this church by Saint Francis of Assisi himself. He was apparently a kind man who thought the Demon Clan was people to pity. He created a secret tomb underneath the church which would shelter the Demon Clan. He even considered them an ideal as he witnesses them live in such modest settings. A peculiar man for sure. He created the Ordo Fratrum Minorum, or the Order of Friars Minor, who protected the Demon Clan from humans ignorance,” Leonide explained as he pulled the ring and the gargoyle opened his mouth which made the wall turn and led them down a dark path.
“ Though the Order was quick to abandon them after Francis passing, there was one last order which was created in secret which was called Order of the Scions. They were offsprings between Francis and a daemon called Stheno. If you know ancient mythology you will recognize the name as one of the Gorgon sisters. The Order of the Scions became guardians of the tombs and-“
Leonide was interrupted by a hissing sound from the shadows. A creature with a raven robe and twisted posture stalked closer. Its face was hidden in the shadow of the creature's hood but two glowing snake eyes stared at them. It was close enough to touch now and I could finally behold what lies beneath the robes.
Silvery scales and hair like a snake. Two sharp-fanged flashed as the creature have is another hiss as it inspected us for weapons. It turned to me and raised its hand towards my pendant. A claw scratched its surface. The creature seemed fascinated by the light emanating from the pendant but I wasn’t comfortable by the creature gaze. The pendant was a precious gift and not something to be stolen.
“Enough, may we pass?” Leonide growled and the creature's eyes darted to him. It tilted his head before a sound echoed in the dark passway.
“You may pass.”
The creature slithered back to the shadow and before my eyes, it vanished.
“What was that?!” I gasped, finally daring to breathe.¨
“That was a member of the Order of the Scions. They guard the passway to the catacombs,” Leonide buoyantly answered while we continued down the dark stone hall.
“What would have happened if they refused to let us pass?” I asked but was fairly sure I didn’t want the answer. Fortunately, Leonide didn’t reply.
He merely displayed a grin and lead me further down into obscurity.
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