his senses when he learned what had happened. He rushed to the village square and uttered the prophecy in front of the assembled community. Leaving the superstitious villagers in fear and terror.
Magdalena had been unable to hold him back, and she knew that meant his death sentence. There was no turning back they would kill him. The angry mob had followed him as he fled uphill towards the volcano. Magdalena thought back to the moment she saw Ourday for the first time on that beach. How their eyes met, as if they had known each other forever. Words were unnecessary between them as if their thoughts had found a way to understand each other silently. Despite her tears, a hint of a smile flitted across her face. From the moment when they met the first time, he had never left her side. Discreetly, of course, since workers coming too close to each other were not tolerated.
Ourday and Magdalena had found stolen moments and had been as close as two soul mates could ever be. He had touched her body, her soul, and her spirit and she would never forget him. However, he was dead, and the only remaining friend alive was sweet innocent Alana and her unborn child, she sobbed again. What was she supposed to do? Whom could she turn to in her misery? If they found out that she carried Ourdays child under her heart, they would kill her too. In his wild prophecy, he had predicted that his descendant would destroy the villagers and especially the Gambelloti. As he had no offspring, it appeared an empty threat, but if anyone knew, a descendant was on its way, she and her unborn child were in danger.
Cefalù
Gregory rushed along the narrow coastal road like a madman. This Vespa was incredibly fast. Probably the owner had tampered with it so that the thief would break his neck for sure if stolen again. Brilliant, Gregory thought, trying to concentrate, because the road was frigging tight and twisty. Besides, the locals drove like maniacs. It would be ironic since, he once again was on the run if he got himself killed in an accident being reckless, might consider it as the savior’s ironical fate. He would have gotten rid of, himself without any external influence and the savior 'himself' gone.
He continued driving for some time with moderate speed. The road was not in a particularly good condition and bumpy. The landscape passing by looked wild and rocky. The blue of the ocean looked almost postcard-perfect. However, Gregory was in no mood to enjoy the scenery, too many thoughts went running through his mind.
There he was once again on the run. It seemed to grow into a habit lately. This time around, he had no idea where to go, no allies and no money, which meant the situation became worse each time he was on the run. He passed the town sign of a small village on the coast. Cefalù he read the name of the village. Something was holding him back, and he had no idea what. But he had the eerie sensation that he knew this town. He parked the Vespa and sat on the hill beside the dusty road on a wooden bench. From here, he saw out on the open sea. He was sitting on that bench for some time lost in thought. Nothing had gone as planned. He thought about his happy childhood in Lerici. Like any other teenager, he went hiking through Cinque Terre or roaming around La Spezia the big city nearby, or he traveled to cities like Genoa, Milan, and Naples, with his friend Paolo. Close to Paolo's 18th birthday, things got disorderly when bullies at school assaulted him, giving him a black eye. It was a mystery when Gregory confronted the oppressors in the schoolyard and, their bags caught fire. Though no one had a clue about what happened, Gregory got into trouble with the headmistress who issued a stern warning to his stepparents. The incident was the first of a series of events, and his stepparents and Father Paul connected the dots. Utterly bewildered they noted whenever Gregory got upset something went up in flames! That was when they sent him off to Canada,
Magdalena had been unable to hold him back, and she knew that meant his death sentence. There was no turning back they would kill him. The angry mob had followed him as he fled uphill towards the volcano. Magdalena thought back to the moment she saw Ourday for the first time on that beach. How their eyes met, as if they had known each other forever. Words were unnecessary between them as if their thoughts had found a way to understand each other silently. Despite her tears, a hint of a smile flitted across her face. From the moment when they met the first time, he had never left her side. Discreetly, of course, since workers coming too close to each other were not tolerated.
Ourday and Magdalena had found stolen moments and had been as close as two soul mates could ever be. He had touched her body, her soul, and her spirit and she would never forget him. However, he was dead, and the only remaining friend alive was sweet innocent Alana and her unborn child, she sobbed again. What was she supposed to do? Whom could she turn to in her misery? If they found out that she carried Ourdays child under her heart, they would kill her too. In his wild prophecy, he had predicted that his descendant would destroy the villagers and especially the Gambelloti. As he had no offspring, it appeared an empty threat, but if anyone knew, a descendant was on its way, she and her unborn child were in danger.
Cefalù
Gregory rushed along the narrow coastal road like a madman. This Vespa was incredibly fast. Probably the owner had tampered with it so that the thief would break his neck for sure if stolen again. Brilliant, Gregory thought, trying to concentrate, because the road was frigging tight and twisty. Besides, the locals drove like maniacs. It would be ironic since, he once again was on the run if he got himself killed in an accident being reckless, might consider it as the savior’s ironical fate. He would have gotten rid of, himself without any external influence and the savior 'himself' gone.
He continued driving for some time with moderate speed. The road was not in a particularly good condition and bumpy. The landscape passing by looked wild and rocky. The blue of the ocean looked almost postcard-perfect. However, Gregory was in no mood to enjoy the scenery, too many thoughts went running through his mind.
There he was once again on the run. It seemed to grow into a habit lately. This time around, he had no idea where to go, no allies and no money, which meant the situation became worse each time he was on the run. He passed the town sign of a small village on the coast. Cefalù he read the name of the village. Something was holding him back, and he had no idea what. But he had the eerie sensation that he knew this town. He parked the Vespa and sat on the hill beside the dusty road on a wooden bench. From here, he saw out on the open sea. He was sitting on that bench for some time lost in thought. Nothing had gone as planned. He thought about his happy childhood in Lerici. Like any other teenager, he went hiking through Cinque Terre or roaming around La Spezia the big city nearby, or he traveled to cities like Genoa, Milan, and Naples, with his friend Paolo. Close to Paolo's 18th birthday, things got disorderly when bullies at school assaulted him, giving him a black eye. It was a mystery when Gregory confronted the oppressors in the schoolyard and, their bags caught fire. Though no one had a clue about what happened, Gregory got into trouble with the headmistress who issued a stern warning to his stepparents. The incident was the first of a series of events, and his stepparents and Father Paul connected the dots. Utterly bewildered they noted whenever Gregory got upset something went up in flames! That was when they sent him off to Canada,
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