A/N: So, this being my first fan fiction ever, I hope you like it :) I'm always open to constructive criticism and tips. English isn't my first language, but my beta is from the States and keeps me in the line when it comes to grammar (blame him if you find any mistakes, jk.)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Assassin's Creed characters or the game itself (seriously, ya' all know I'm not Ubisoft!). Any other characters are mine alone.

She was running. She was running faster that she had ever done before and she knew that she could not stop. If she did, they'd catch her and only God knows what they would do to her. She could hear them behind her, trampling clumsily through the forest, trying to keep up with the sprinting girl. She knew she couldn't keep running forever, but really, what other choice did she have. Images flew through her mind, how they barged in her beat-down home, weapons raised and bloodlust blazing in their eyes. She remembered her mother screaming for her to run as one of the intruders pierced the older woman with his sword. Tears welled up in her eyes, rage boiling inside. Adea remembered the feeling of drawing the small knife she always carried on her person. She remembered how she shoved it in between the man's ribs, how his blood ran over her fingers. And all too clear did she remember the last breath of her first kill. And how she stumbled backward, her knife still wedged in the man's back.
With those gruesome images echoing in her head, she tripped over a cluster of roots and her face was planted in the soggy earth. Desperately, with her breaths coming in gasps, she stumbled to her feet and kept running and instantly she felt her left ankle throbbing with a dull pain. She knew she would not be able to go on for much longer. She almost ran into a tall tree. Without being able to see any other options, she started scaling it. She somewhat gracefully climbed toward the top, but her mind wasn't clear and she kept slipping on the slick branches. She could hear them getting closer for every second that passed.

"There she is! Up there" a shout reached her ears. He sounded exhausted and that made the young woman's lips curve up just a tiny bit. Then she saw them. They were five in total, all of them large men and all of them carrying heavy swords or axes. Mercenaries, was her first guess, though, they wore more armor than any mercenary Adea had ever seen. As one of the smaller men went to climb after her, she went even further up, knowing the thinner branches would never be enough support for her pursuer's larger frame. She felt the tree tremble and looked down just in time to see the man land on his back with a painful sound.

"Come on down Sweetheart! You are only making it worse."One of them yelled at her. Adea grimaced at the nickname, knowing all too well that she would not be given a quick, merciful death if she obeyed. She did kill one of them after all. They would never let that pass without punishment. Unable to dig up the strength to make a snarky reply, she just stared at them. They kept howling at her, but she hardly registered them at that point. A flash of white and brown, dropped from one of the nearby trees caught her eyes. It landed firmly on one of the five men. The unfortunate man let loose a twisted cry of pain. The sound of a blade pulling out of flesh was heard over the sudden silence. Adea vaguely registered that the figure was now rising from the limp body on the ground. The newcomer stepped away from the pool of blood forming on the muddy ground. His head was covered by a white beaked hood, effectively bathing his face in shadows and casting an air of mystery around him. On the front his flowing, white robes ended in two points just above the knees and in a similar, but wider and longer, style on the back. Underneath, he wore loose brown pants tucked firmly into fur lined leather boots. A blood red sash and a belt with a weird chevron-like symbol tied it all together at the waist.

"Get him!" one of the mercenaries screamed, though his voice broke slightly. Adea was no longer gasping for air, and watched with increasing awe the scene playing beneath her. The first man attacked the hooded figure, but the latter simply sidestepped, leaving the mercenary tumbling forwards. He didn't get far though, because the hooded man plunged a dagger in his back. With an angry yell, the remaining three ran toward the stranger. The white figure didn't waste a second and drew his sword. One of the three men started swinging his axe wildly, but was nowhere close to even scratching the man, much less killing him. The hooded man parried as if it was second nature. The two other men decided to take part in the fight, thinking the man would be easier to overpower with three against one. But they were very wrong. They surrounded the hooded man, effectively cutting off any means of escape. Without even looking, the hooded man swung his seemingly weaponless hand around in a fluid motion, slicing an attacker's throat with an invisible knife. Adea almost chocked a mouthful air when she saw a glint of metal disappearing up the man's sleeve. Another was sent sprawling to the ground by a sword to the chest. The last mercenary hesitated for just a second, but it was a fatal second. Because it took no more than that second for the hooded man to ready his sword and parry the incoming blow away before delivering a jaw breaking punch, causing the good-as-doomed man to fall on his back. Using his momentum, the hooded man spun around himself before jabbing his sword into his opponent's stomach. Adea's body jerked involuntarily. The hooded man calmly wiped his sword dry of blood in one of the fallen men's clothes.

"You can come down now," the hooded man said. Adea froze. She hoped the man wouldn't notice her, but apparently she was out of luck for that day. But she didn't want to come down.

"Do not worry, I am not going to kill you," he said calmly, "if I had orders to kill you, you would be dead already." Adea frowned, so he wasn't just some mindless killer running around killing random people. Not that the thought did much to calm her.

"But how do I know you won't trick me?" she said bravely.

"You do not, but your ankle is sprained. I saw the twist it got. I am no doctor, but I have sprained and broken plenty bones myself to know when I see one." His voice was oddly calming, "I can help you make a splint."

And soon, Adea found herself slowly making her way down the tree. On the last few meters, her hand slipped. She closed her eyes and braced herself for a painful landing, but the pain never came. Instead she felt a solid arm hold her up and gently lower her to the ground.

She took an unsecured step, testing her wounded ankle. Her knee buckled under the added weight when the swollen ankle refused to support her. The hooded man gripped her arm tighter, preventing her from falling.

"Easy now," he said with a steady voice, "try not to put too much stress on your foot. You will only achieve to increase the swelling." Adea only gave a soft grunt for answer. Gently, but firmly, he lowered her to the ground, positioning her so she rested her back on a tree.

"Stay still," the hooded man bade her. All she could manage was a small nod. She watched him walk off into the forest. Gritting her teeth, trying not to focus on the still increasing pain located just above her left foot. Now, when the adrenaline had left her body, she could really feel the damage. It'd be several days before she could walk properly again.

She almost yelped in surprise. She hadn't heard the man return. Adea had always prided herself with her better than average senses. How could he move so silently on the forest floor? It was littered with small twigs, wet perhaps, but any regular person would have made some noise. Maybe she had just been too preoccupied with pain? The man was silent as he created the splint. When he was done he rose to his feet.

"We will make camp here for now. Give you some time to rest." Without any further words he walked away again, most likely to gather wood that wasn't too wet to make a proper fire. Adea sighed and leaned her head against the tree trunk. Now that she wasn't running for her life, the memories finally took full control over her thoughts. She didn't want to cry, but she couldn't keep the tears from leaping from her tired eyes. She couldn't keep her shoulders from shaking either. She lost control over herself completely. It seemed all energy had left her body, and all she could do was slump against the solid tree and let the sobs take hold of her. She never heard the sharp whistle and the faint sound of thundering hooves. Nor did she realize the hooded man had returned and had started a small fire. In that moment, the horrible things she had seen and done no more than a few hours ago were all she could think about.

She didn't know how long she had cried. Minutes? It felt like longer, Hours? She didn't know, and she didn't really care. Those men who had caused her pain were all she could think about with her tears gone. Pushing her rage aside for the moment, she wiped her eyes and nose before she looked up. She searched for the bodies, but they were nowhere to be seen.

"I dumped them deeper into the forest," a deep voice interrupted her investigation. She had almost forgotten the man. His hood was still up and all she could see of his face was his chin, which was covered in day old stubble.

"Thank you-" she started, but the man simply held his hand up.

"No need for thanks. They were to die anyway, I was just lucky to be in time to save you."

She lowered her eyes.

"But I was sent to kill six. There were only five here," he went silent for a few seconds. Adea could sense his eyes on her.

"You would not know what happened to him, would you?" he asked calmly. She hesitated, biting her lower lip. Could she tell this stranger what she had done? She didn't really want to talk about it. But then she remembered her mother used to say it was a good thing to talk about one's problems. If you ran around with too many on your own, they'd destroy you. A small smile grazed her lips, but was quickly wiped away before the man noticed.

"They came to our home. My mother and I live on… lived on our own. Easy prey I suppose," she paused, grief welling up in her chest again, "They split up. To search the house for valuables that didn't exist. One of them stayed with us. My mother tried to get to me. He must have thought she was trying to escape. And then he killed her." Through fresh tears Adea saw the invisible face lower in sympathy. For some reason, that sparked something inside her. She did not want to cry anymore. She did not need this stranger's pity. She pressed her lips together, jaw clenched tight. Her mother wouldn't want her to become a sobbing wreck. She had always encouraged Adea to be strong. She had taught her daughter the little self-defense she had known. It wasn't much, but it had saved their lives more than once. No, Adea wouldn't cry anymore. She had to be strong. That is what her mother would have wanted.

"Then I killed him," she said with a firm but low voice. The man looked up. She couldn't tell if he was surprised or offended that she had unintentionally stolen his kill, or if he even had emotions at all. But he said nothing. He just kept studying her. It seemed like hours passed before he spoke.

"Do you have any where to go?" The question took her by surprise. Her mother – her only family – was dead. She was too old for a children's home. She couldn't go back to her old home. There was too much sadness. But where would she go?

"No," was her hesitated answer.

"You do not have any family?" he asked.

"No, my mother was my only living relative. My father passed when I was eight. And I 'm not particularly too keen on going back to where I lived. There's nothing left for me there."

"Then what do we do?" he mumbled to himself. He couldn't just leave her. She reminded him too much of himself, "well, let us think about over that question later. What's your name?" he wanted to make her keep talking. It would distract her, if only for a little while.

"Adea" came the soft answer.

"Nice to meet you Adea, my name is Emilio"

She looked up at him. The faintest shadow of a smile rested on her lips. Then she yawned.

"You should get some rest. You have been through a lot."

She nodded and curled up on her side taking good care not to bump her sprained ankle on anything. He would, in the meantime, think about what to do with the girl. He knew he'd hate himself if he left her. He would never get over that. But could he take her with him? Back to Roma? She seemed like a capable young woman. Even with a bad ankle she had been fast. She had climbed that tree almost as if it was nothing. Only the ankle had held her from doing it with complete ease. She would make a good assassin, he thought. But would she join the Brotherhood? What would he tell her? The truth, perhaps. That the men who had killed her mother were Templars? Would she believe him, if he told her about the invisible war between the Templars and the Assassins? He didn't know, but it seemed like the best option at the time being. He knew il Mentore would give her trial. Emilio had been given the same. Besides, he had been the first of the recruits to rise to Master assassin. Something he was quite proud of, but mainly kept to himself. Ezio trusted his judgment, he knew that.

In any case, if Adea didn't want to or didn't prove herself worthy of becoming an assassin, she could still live in the hideout on Isola Tiberina and work as a maid. Or she could make a living on her own in Roma – a new start. When she had rested a few hours, he thought to himself, I'll take her to the inn and ask.

He didn't even have to wake her. She had seemingly had a bad dream; the way her body had twitched with random intervals was proof enough. Upon her awakening he offered her some water and dried meat. He hated that he had nothing better to offer, he quite hated field rations himself. But she had to eat something.

"I have been thinking about what to do with you," he said. A scared look creased her features, but he paid it no attention. They had arrived at the inn a little after noon; it had taken longer than if he had gone by himself. She was sitting on the narrow bed, her foot resting on a pillow atop a chair. Her dirtied dress was yet to be replaced, but he didn't really have anything he could give her. Her dark brown hair fell in soft curls to just below her shoulders. He was certain that it'd be much prettier when she had gotten all the twigs and dirt out of it. Her brilliant, icy blue eyes shone with grief, but other than that she did not show her pain. When she said nothing, he assumed she was willing to listen to what he had to say.

"You could come with me."

"And where are you supposed to go?" she asked with a small voice.

"Roma, in Italia."

Her eyes widened slightly at those words.

"What do you know about the Assassins?" he didn't want to be blunt, but this seemed like a good way to present the idea.

"The Assassins?" she muttered under her breath, "I've heard stories about them."

Without moving his slightly bowed head, he fixated his eyes on her. He had kept the hood up. He didn't want to admit it, but he preferred it that way.

"What stories?" he asked. He knew there were many rumors about the Assassins, but he had never had a chance to hear any of them.

"They say the Assassins are like ghosts. You never see them coming. Not until it is too late do you realize they're there. They say the Assassins can walk through walls and locked doors. If they are after you, you're as good as dead. They won't stop till either you or they are dead."

Emilio chuckled. He anticipated the stories would be exaggerated, but this? It was almost too much.

"What's so funny?" she frowned.

"Nothing," was the simple answer.

"But why do you ask?" the young woman looked at him curiously.

"What if I told you the men who were after you were working for Templars?"

She frowned: "Templars? Who are they?"

"They are ones who seek to create a perfect world by depriving free will. The Templars seek to force order and control over anyone who dare oppose them." Emilio's voice got tighter from every word spilling from his mouth.

He saw the contempt in Adea's face and continued: "They are sworn enemies of the Assassins." Her eyes darted to where Emilio's were hidden under his hood and he saw hate blaze in them. He was taken aback for a moment.

"Why are you telling me this?" she demanded.

"Because where I am going you have the opportunity to become an assassin. You could become an apprentice under my master. Serve the Order and prevent the Templars from harming anyone else like they did to you," he could almost see the gears turning in her head. She had already said she did not want to go back to her mother's house, and being all alone as a young woman did not sound like a good idea.

"I suppose it is my best option," she said. Emilio could hear that she tried not to sound beat up, but failed miserably.

"You will be fine" he promised her and was rewarded with a small smile. It suited her, he thought to himself. Now, when her face wasn't plagued by tears, he could see that she was quite pretty. Many would describe her as ordinary and nothing special. However most were fools. But under all the dirt and grime, Emilio could see a beautiful lady.

"When do we leave?" the question threw him out of his distracting thoughts.

"The boat to France leaves in the morning. If we ride tonight we can catch it," he replied, "is there anything you need from your old house?" she nodded.

"There is one thing," she hesitated, "a box my mother told me to get if anything happened."

"Are you fit to get it?" he didn't want her to stress her ankle too much, but she had to use it sooner or later.

"I believe so," she said.

"Then let us go,"

A/N: That'll be it for now. I hope you liked it and please feel free to comment, rate, like or whatever-you-want-to-do :) I'm hoping to have the next part up in less than a month

-Selene