The soft crackle of a fire echos through the quiet office of Gabriel. The light flickering across shelves of books and scant pieces of finery that Gabriel afforded into his office. The offices singular piece of ostentatious art was hung directly behind his desk. A painting of his children and his wife. Often he would stand before it to contemplate.
He now stood in front of the painting with his usual stern expression. His eyes roaming over each family member, from his wife who was holding the baby Antonio, to Federico who was trying his level best to ruin the picture, to Donatello standing slightly behind his wife. Despite his silence on the subject he was quite fond of his children in the painting. Each displaying their unique personality even at a young age. Despite Antonio being but a babe when it was put to canvas he already had a distinct person about him. With Federico and Donatello they were complete opposites, one the outgoing and vivacious to the shy and quiet dutiful Donatello.
He knew they balanced each other out in the end. When growing up fights often broke out between them and he would observe Antonio being the one to attempt to calm, whilst Federico often was the one instigating the conflict by picking on Donatello who would lash out escalating the situation due to being weathered down.
Turning Gabriel reached out to steady himself with the back of his large chair. He took a breath in before slipping around to sit himself down. Light from the fire finally revealing his face. It was paler than normal, and his usual rather ageless figure was drastically poorer. A soft grunt of annoyance was uttered as he attempted to adjust his seat closer to his desk which took more effort than he normally accustomed to. Despite his reduced state he still did not let it show unless in the most intimate of situations such as now. Pulling out a piece of fine stock he begins to write, the words coming slow and purposeful.
Dear Lord Machiavell
I write to you in hopes that you are healthy and that your work are ever blessed. I have not gotten time to talk with you as late as I have been throwing my attention on a new matter that has come to forefront. This matter has me away from the duties of my station as head of the family. A negligence that I regret but continue to do as it is of the matter of family security.
As such, my eldest son, Federico hence forth will be speaking on my behalf as well as informing me directly of family matters. Any letters from him will bare my seal and will carry the weight of my word regarding the inner workings of our family. While I understand you may have some reservations for me doing this let me assure you, Machiavelli, that in a short amount of time he will assume my role as he is the eldest heir to the family. Despite his wanderings and delving in different avenues in life he knows the importance of this station, maybe not now but he will rise to the occasion.
On that regard, Machiavelli, I am dying. My time is growing short and I have much to do. You are the first to know this outside of a handful of people which exclude my children. I fear that my health decline has been very swift and that I am unable to continue with my task at hand. Which I have kept in secret from the rest of the family on a whole as it involved family secrets that are a very sore subject.
To give you some context, dear Machiavelli, my late wife’s murder has been revealed to me and through some digging and prying of proper pressures I found that his hand was guided by another. He bares the name Kestrel and he resides in the city as a ghost. A financier of a cell of White Mantle that worked to subvert the city. While the White Mantle have been crushed as it seems this man continues to be a tick suckling on the weakness and corruption of the city. While I would involve the proper authorities in regard to this matter I cannot. This would lead to jeopardizing family history that spans far back in a time period that we as Cavalli’s want to forget and have in most cases.
For you see, Machiavelli, our family is one to place the families well being above all. Our history if revealed in naked truth would show a family of people grasping at every opportunity to advance our own interests. The old family saying comes to mind, ‘though star fall, though earth shake, the Cavalli’s will endure till the last.’ This sorted history has been locked away and scattered to the wind, and while we believe it to be hidden it is not. Our records hold the key to understanding our past and the secrets hidden within.
I believe that though the secrets are hidden they influence us in different ways. Our fierce independence bred from history of being willing to do whatever it takes to survive. I have strove to lead our family to better places, to use our influence and clout to better the people around us while keeping our interests safe. This is why I reveals these things to you, Machiavelli. Our history is a great mantle bore out of blood and tears but one that we can utilize for the greater good. When I am gone, so goes my knowledge of our past. I do not wish this to be and I want you to bare some of it and have the keys to aid Federico in learning it.
I believe with my passing and Federico’s rise to his station the family will be on a new path. I have tried in the past to guide him to the one I walk but that is blatantly not going to work. Instead of hindering it I will allow Federico and you to make the choices. I hope that both of you will work together as friends, and most of all as family. Which is why I give you this last bit of information, Machiavelli. In the family archives the book of my family has two entries that I need you to see for yourself in secret. In them will set you on a path to discover the knowledge that I posses. To have the secrets revealed you will have to work with Federico. While the secret won’t die with me it will be your choice to pursue and ultimately what you will do with it.
I request that all information that I have disclosed thus far will be kept until my passing. I have left a letter to Federico that will be sent once the end is near as I fear that he may try to run again hearing what I had to say. As you may have guessed he and I are not close, I fear that once my wife was murdered I was harsh on him. Pressing too hard to fill my shoes once I was gone, but now I realize that he is his own man.
I hope, Machiavelli, that this weight is not too much more to bare. I have in the past asked a great many things from you but this is my last request.
Sincerely
Lord Gabriel Cavalli
His writing took him deep into the night as he had to stop to cough from time to time. His breath came in hard as he concentrated but despite that he had a mission that he damn well would finish before he expired. Reading over his letter he lightly blew on the ink. The words jumbled on the paper as he watched, the words only for the receivers eyes. He then folded the paper before placing his wax seal on it. Once the wax seal was fully set he tucked the letter into his pocket. Leaning back into the chair he took a heavy breath before his eyes focused on the corner of his office.
“I am sorry, that took me longer than expected.”
The flame flickered again casting a dancing light over a wooden painted marionette. A few moments pass before the figure clicks to life, joints moving in awkward motions as it stood up. The otherwise inhuman figure moved to stand, nearly collapsing from time to time, to stand in front of the desk. A soft chuckle builds from the wooden throat. One that didn’t seem to come directly from the marionette but was distinctly caused by it.
“Your move, Gabriel.”
A magical board forms on Gabriel’s desk, complete with ivory game pieces arranged as chess pieces. They were already midgame as the night wore on. Gabriel was a even match to the trickster as he doggedly refused to give in.
If Machiavelli were to look into the book that Gabriel mentioned he would find the births and deaths of Gabriel’s family line. The entry for his wife would have the dates of her death. A new entry, however, was added, a daughter by the name of Enara. From this entry her mother was not Gabriel’s wife. No other family records would hold her aside from this book.
The missing Cavalli would be easily found given the digging, she resided in the Reach under the name Enara Sterling.
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