Sweet Dreams | Finn Mikaelson (book 2)

15. Sweet Sinless Dream (Fran)

City of Somnia, Kingdom of Lacertus, southern Italy. 1424.

Francesco del Monte was never an overtly superstitious person. He believed in his God, the Holy Spirit, the virgin Mary, and all the Saints. But he never avoided the number 17*, or changed his path to steer away from walking under a ladder; he never believed the touch of a sweeping broom on his feet could prevent him from ever getting married—but then, again, he already knew the reason he would never marry. Still, he prayed at least once a day—usually before supper with his family—he went to mass every Sunday and took communion. Fran was devoted... even if didn't always believe everything the parish priest said during service.

He was too inquisitive for his own good. That was perhaps his biggest flaw—especially according to his uncle Aldo. But it was not all Francesco's fault. The Man, or Mika—his godfather—also had his share of blame. Once—just after Alissa and Fran had learned their letters, and the names of all the saints—Mika drank a bit too much and gabbled away, talking about his views on Christianity. Mika had told the children about the little secret of the Christian faith:

"As a monotheistic religion," he said matter-of-factly, "It could not accept any other gods. No Odin, no Thor... No Zeus or whatnot," the Man went on, his pagan upbringing showing through shamelessly. "And yet! If the priests and popes wanted their religion to expand—grow, with more and more followers—throughout the world... they needed to make compromises... That's the thing, you see, fear and brute force can only go half the way to faith... There's no submission without tenderness, or at the very least, the promise of tenderness... No one would ever worship a stranger God; someone alien... And so, that's how many superstitions and festivals came to be... They are the product of a symbiosis of Christian and pagan faiths... But, now... The Fires!" Mika waved his hands, and Fran had never seen such rage in his eyes. "Now... They want to rule with fear alone. They forsake anything different, anything natural, anything beautiful that falls short of their rigid view of perfection... Gods, what stupidity!"

Francesco knew his uncle Aldo detested the Man for his views of their faith—not to mention the Man's casual swearing in front of the children. But now, with 25 years of age and experience, not only did Francesco understand the meaning and the frustration behind the Man's words, but he also worried about his own fate. Ever since the man's speech, the executions had become more and more common in the Kingdom of Lacertus.

Priests frowned upon anyone who turned away from a holy execution. After all, it was the capital punishment, reserved only for the worst criminals and sinners; and a crucial part of the punishment involved the audience. Without an engaged crowd to cheer on as they died, the poor sinners might think God could forgive their faults in death. The audience was there to remind the dying criminals that only hell waited for them. Yet, the executions also had an educational purpose. Anyone who watched the poor sinners burning would think twice before sinning themselves—or so the priest said.