Prologue

The footsteps pounded on the shingle rooftops as he made his most daring escape. Five guards of the Papal Army chased him down; their swords raised high while archers aimed at him from all sides. A stereotypical smirk from our dashing Assassin leader flashed underneath the cowl of his black attire for a split second as an arrow whizzed by his ear, burying into the side of a building with a heavy twang. He never looked back, nor did he look down as he leapt from the edge of a building to land in a three point crouch on the roof across the street.

The guards stopped short just in time before plummeting to the streets below, cursing the name "Assassino," as he was known as. A few archers continued their assault on the disappearing figure into the Venetian sunset before lowering their crossbows in frustration. Cesare Borgia would have their heads when he learned that once again Ezio Auditore da Firenza had escaped.

..:*:..

"It looks as if I have pissed off the Borgia slime tremendously, to have them send an entire army here to Venice after me," Ezio grinned as he leaned back in his chair inside the safe house, lifting his feet to prop them up on the table while he held his wine tightly in a fist.

La Volpe snickered, while Lorenzo de' Medici clucked his tongue.

"It really is time to get moving to Roma, Venezia is becoming unstable, & it is time for you to accept your position as Master."

Ezio smirked & let the front two legs of his chair drop as he untangled his own legs from the table to set his heavy leather boots on the floor. He stood up & moved over to a shelf built into the wall to pluck a Venetian mask & handled it gingerly. It wasn't the black masquerade mask he had used to blend in during the Carnevale festival. It was feathered, colored in pastel pink & baby blue, trimmed in gold.

"I would stay in Venezia a little longer, friend," Ezio admonished, turning to look over his shoulder at his two associates gathered.

They knew one of his newfound obsessions, besides bringing down the men who ordered his brothers & father killed, was finding the owner to the mask. He knew every courtesan, every thief & every mercenary along with the Assassins & nobles, & even the dwindling Templars that remained. Yet he could not find the owner of the mask, whose cyan eyes & raven black hair plagued his dreams & haunted his memory over & over. It was as if she was a ghost, & a good one at that.

But her mask was real. & if he held his breath for long enough, he could feel the way her hand brushed down his grizzled cheek to caress the scar that slashed through his lips before she disappeared, leaving him with only one clue. A clue that ended in a dead end. Where had she gone? Where had she come from? These questions drilled into his mind as he searched the city streets day & night, always on the hunt for her.

He placed the delicate mask back down carefully before he turned, his black & red cape flashing the multiple weapons strapped to his person in the light the fireplace emitted before he started for the door.

"I will find her," he said loudly, to ease the creeping doubts Lorenzo had crawling up his spine.

La Volpe, a trickster & a thief, only chuckled harder.