A mother’s duty is not only to protect her child, but ready them for the world of Arcadia at large.
Your mother was always the real marionette.
Untangle your strings for a moment and listen, Foley.
When the terrible storm swept through your household known as Fernicus, the skies turned black, and the winds howled with the voices of drunken fury. She would try and stand in its path. She would try and direct its rage towards herself, and sometimes she would succeed in pulling those strings.
Your father danced to her tune on those occasions, and subsequently danced his fists all over her face as reward.
And knowing this, you always looked at her lovingly. She brought relief and joy to your life when you needed it most. For this, you made her your hero. You believed she brought light into your dark little world.
But its those moments of reprieve that created weakness.
She danced you on her string, filling your head with dreams and distraction. She wanted you to believe you could be anything you wanted. When the storm came and she was unable to protect you, she had not prepared you for its fury. She left you defenseless, Felix.
The storm was only the beginning. It was never the true test.
The darkness, the shadows, when that day came, you would need to be ready and because of your mother, you aren’t.
At Bad Blood, the day will come when more than the storm arrives and the darkness does more than whisper. It will surge forward, swallowing you and everything you love whole. She won’t be able to protect you. She won’t be able to hide you away or take the brunt of it herself.
When the dust settles and the darkness subsides, your mother will once again be left standing, surrounded by her fallen marionette, powerless. Her strings have no power over the shadows.
And the story repeats itself perpetually.
Felix, you think you’re different than your mother, don’t you? You believe that you’re guiding the children, nurturing them with your funhouse tricks and puppet shows. But you’re just the puppet master, dancing on your own strings, refusing to see that the darkness is already here. You think your shows will save them, that you’ll give them a future. But when the shadows come, they will tear your little funhouse apart, and those children will be left screaming in the dark, unprepared and unprotected.
I’ve seen it happen before, and I will see it happen again. You can prance and play, pretend to be their guardian all you like. But in the end, you’re just a fool with strings, leading them into a world where shadows consume all. Your father learned that lesson. Your stepbrother learned it too. And soon, Felix, you will learn it as well.
Your mother knows it all too well.
When the end comes, she will be there watching.
But you should never fear the end, Felix.
The end is where we meet…
…and I will send you on your way.