The cold night was filled with the deep, black sky. Stars had dimly glowed in the sky, providing a mediocre amount of light on the stony road of Skingrad, not to mention the connected roofs of the buildings around blocked out the moon. A young man with black hair stood on the porch of his family's estate, Rosethorn Hall, standing by the torch attached to the railing. The wind blew through his hair, but his eyes were not carefree. His duty to guard the structure during his father's and brother's absence did not go without toll. His mother and sister slept silently in the upper rooms, awaiting the men of the house to return.
Ezio leaned on the railing of the balcony, looking down the unlit road. Why couldn't he have gone to the Imperial City as well? It didn't seem fair that he be the only one left behind. He fiddled with the iron knife attached to his belt. A gift from his father, who trained him to fight rather well. He never got a chance to use that ability, however. In his mind, he would imagine how nice it would be to sate the weapon's thirst for blood. There were a few people he had in mind, too: Eyja, the house maid, who had always forced him to do the mediocre jobs of the home as though he was the servant. Worse still, she had his father's approval, and he couldn't argue. Her death would be pleasing, indeed.
That idiot Glarthir would be another that he would silence to ease his own burden. The damn fool already believed that everyone in Tamriel was against him, anyway. Why not kill him, and prove him right? At least for Ezio's case. The Count of Skingrad was also a high and mighty upstart: whenever his family went to visit his castle, he was always looked down upon by everyone there, for seemingly no reason at all. Spilling their blood would be pleasing as well.
He would happily murder everyone in town, except his brother. The only person who understood Ezio, the only one who would take time out to listen to his problems. His father did this as well, but not in nearly the same, burden-easing way his brother seemed to. Federico Auditore, the only man in Skingrad he would trust with his life, and the only man he would leave alive were he to ever go on a murderous massacre. He shifted his weight, and laughed at such foolishness; the thought of ever actually murdering all of these people seemed not only beyond reach, but beyond will. If it ever really came down to it, he wouldn't kill unless his own life depended on it.
Ezio's ponytail blew in the wind, as a torch travelled down from the road, away from Colovian Trader's. Or was it to Colovian Trader's? Ezio could only guess before the man, riding a horse inside city walls, arrived before Rosethorn Hall. "Is the lord of this estate in?" he called urgently.
"No, but I am here to take his place. What is it I can do for you?" Ezio called back, secretly annoyed by having to answer for his father, Giovanni Auditore.
"Can you fight?" the man asked, trying to see Ezio's face in the darkened street lit only by the orange glow of the torch.
"I am not new to the concept…"
"Then help! We're being invaded damnit! Hundreds of them, I don't know where they are all coming from!" Ezio placed one hand on the railing, and used it to toss himself over it. Landing on the ground, he progressed into a roll to prevent the fall from harming him. He followed the rider to the bridge that connected the two halves of Skingrad, where the moon shown down. He looked before him, and saw a small army, all crossing the bridge into Skingrad Castle.
Ezio looked around at the people around him: there was a small number of them this far from action. They had set up a catapult, and a few of them readied their bows for firing from long distance. "This will not do," he muttered, looking at the catapult. "I wasn't trained in long-range combat."
"That's what the catapult is for. Hop in." The man from the horse said, drawing a sword and climbing onto the catapult. Two other men joined him, followed by the hesitant teenager Ezio. "Three!" he called out, the teen focusing on the fire near the castles. "Two!" In a matter of moments they would be at the front of battle. "One!" Ezio was starting to regret what he thought earlier: he didn't want to kill anyone. "Fire!" Too late now. The catapult launched, and Ezio could barely take a breath as he flew through the air toward the bridge.
He landed on the bridge, a few enemies breaking his fall, and stopping his flight. The staggered, and a few fell off of the bridge, falling to their deaths below. Ezio backed up, drawing the dagger. Fear gripped him, now at the worst possible time. He had never killed a man: how was he supposed to start now?
His father had always prepared him for situations of multiple enemies. But that was on dummies, or with dummy weapons. It never really killed anybody. Now it would be much more deadly, both to him and the other party. The man from the horse fought desperately, and terribly, against the enemies.
His attention returned to himself after dodging an enemy's attack. He dropped the dagger, and it fell off the bridge as he himself teetered on the edge between life and death. No…his death or theirs. He looked backwards and down, gauging the drop. Enemies were starting to congregate down there as well, readying to sack the town as well as the castle. Ezio grabbed the hand of the soldier as he brought his blade down, and kneed him in the crotch. The man didn't react very much due to his armor, but what little reaction there was was enough for the teenager to proceed with beating his opponent.
As a child, he often had to steal his brother's play sword to stop him from beating him with it. Here was no different. Punching the guard in the face, he grabbed the hilt of the double-edged iron shortsword and stabbed his opponent through the heart, using the blade to change places with the enemy and toss his armored arse off the bridge. Holding the bloodied blade to the oncoming horde of enemies, he took a breath. He just killed a man, and now he had to kill more. And for what purpose? He would decide later.
Ducking under one attack, Ezio slipped behind the foe and stabbed the enemies that would have attacked after a decisive blow. Tearing the blade out of the man's chest, he grabbed the shoulder of his original opponent and shoved the blade through the right side of his chest, dropping him instantly as he now fell off the bridge. Ezio retreated a little to gauge all of his enemies at once.
The catapult from the connector bridge starting launching fireballs now. It was disorientating, to both him and his enemies. Ezio ducked under one last attack from an enemy before getting blasted off of the bridge by the catapult bolt. Falling, he grabbed the last ridge of the bridge, looking down at his fate. He was going to die, by falling to his death.
He suddenly realized that this was a dream. It had to have been. He looked up at the archer who pulled an arrow back on the bowstring, readying to fire, and end Ezio's miserable little existence. He couldn't allow that in a dream. Swinging back and forth for momentum, he let go and flew at a lower part of the bridge, and kicked off downward, grabbing a banner that was ripping at the seams. It tore, but broke his fall as he landed on the ground safely, smirking at the miracle that had just saved him.
He looked at the mob of enemies before him, and took a breath. He looked on the ground, and picked up a dead guard's shortsword, and looked at the horde. Time to prove my worth, he decided, and charged towards the enemies. The catapult's blasts continued, sending bodies raining to the ground, as well as missing the bridge entirely and crushing Ezio's foes. He stabbed through one enemy with a shortsword, switching out with the opponent's longsword to continue fighting rather than take the extra time to pull his own weapon from the mangled corpse.
Using the longsword, he blocked a soldier's assault, and then countered with his own shortsword, piercing the man's armor easily. Pulling the blade out, he thanked the Nine as another bolt landed before him, killing a group of enemies that were just about to finish Ezio off due to his carelessness of being still for too long.
He retreated some distance before the enemies all started retreating. The Imperial Guard had arrived, along with his father and brother, Giovanni and Federico Auditore. The cart that carried the reinforcements was a force on its own, flattening enemies that were foolish enough to get in the way. Ezio dove out of the way, and gazed as Federico loaded three arrows onto his bow and killed three enemies at once with them.
His father was no less impressive with throwing knives. One knife between every finger on both hands, six throwing knives in all, all piercing the enemy's helmets and armor, killing them near instantly. The Imperial Legion soldiers loaded out of the cart and began to do war with the enemy at hand. Federico called out: "Ezio, to us! To us, Ezio!"
Following orders, the shock-numbed child sprinted toward the cart, leaping onto it by his brother. "Federico! Father! You're back!"
"How long has this been happening?"
"It just started as I am aware." Ezio replied. Federico continued firing three arrows at once upon enemies, and Giovanni took the reins of the horses and began to drive the cart towards the road leading up to the bridge. Within minutes, Federico decided that more arrows would only be wasted, and sat down next to Ezio, replenishing his quiver with supplies kept in the Imperial cart.
"You're covered in blood, brother." Federico said, smirking. "But you're alive."
"Yeah…" Ezio muttered, looking at his hands. It was a dream, it had to be. And yet, it was so…real. He had murdered a man…many men. He was a killer.
"Federico, get ready for more from all sides!" Giovanni called out. "Ezio, get ready to shove any enemies off of the cart! Even Federico can't kill our enemies if he has a knife in his back!"
Both boys obeyed. Ezio grabbed the iron shortsword, leaving the longsword behind. He needed quick attacks…by the Nine, he was even starting to think like an actual killer. They arrived at the bridge, where the cart began running over anyone that didn't dodge out of the way, only to fall to their deaths below.
Federico shot down the ones who held on, and Ezio awaited an opportunity to show his skills by slaying any foe who clambered onto the cart. None did, and they arrived at the open, waiting doors of the castle. Ezio and Federico piled out, and ran to the walls of the castle.
"Now watch our reinforcements tear them apart from both sides."
"You brought reinforcements?"
"Always do, my brother. Always do."
Over the horizon, carts similar to the one they rode in began appearing, all loaded with Legion soldiers. The enemy were surrounded by Legion and Skingrad soldiers. The battle had been won.
The Count approached Ezio and Federico, along with Giovanni. "Ezio, the Count tells me you have been a valuable, yet foolish asset to the battle." Ezio blushed. "Perhaps you have gotten older than I thought…absorbed more than I believed. There is much for you to learn, but I thought you unready for the knowledge. It seems I have been proved wrong, in a foolish and lucky way. And I am proud to have been so."
"Much to learn?"
"Yes. I'll begin explaining in the morn—" Three Legion soldiers approached, all looking at Ezio.
"Sir, you're going to have to come with us." One said, motioning for Ezio to follow. "You and a few others are suspected of starting this whole assault in the first place."
"Pardon?" Ezio replied, astonished. "How could I have anything to do with this? I was in my home naught but a few hours ago."
"We aren't saying you did it. We just want testimony about it." The soldier said, but neither Ezio nor Giovanni were convinced.
"If you wanted testimony, you wouldn't arrest my son." Giovanni answered for Ezio, holding up his arm to signal Ezio to say nothing.
"We are under no orders, sir, but we wish to make this as quick and painless as possible." The guard replied. "We wish no ill will to the Auditore family. But we will be back, next time under orders, to retrieve all possible suspects."
"Why not father or me, then?" Federico said, his father tossing a glance of anger at him for talking out of turn. "We could just as easily be suspects!"
"We rode with you, we know you weren't involved. Even the Count is going to the Imperial City to give testimony."
"Fine, but if my son sees the inside of a cell for this…" Giovanni muttered, murder on his breath, "…each of you will not wake to see the next sunrise."
"Of course, sir." The Legion soldier nodded. One guard had the gall to grab Ezio by the arm, but was quickly shaken off, given the idea that he didn't want to start anything. The entered the cart, a couple men and Ezio, and within moments they were already out of Skingrad's walls. The countryside went by quickly, but even still it took hours before the Imperial City's walls came into sight. White Gold Tower, also known as the Imperial Palace, was the most noticeable building from here, as it was the tallest structure in Cyrodiil, and could be seen from far around.
Ezio folded his hands, and kept his head down. He wasn't embarrassed to be with the Legion soldiers, he merely didn't want to be stared at. They exited the cart, and began walking through the large city. The Talos Plaza District wasn't very much, just the Tiber Septim Hotel and a few homes. Beggars all looked at Ezio, with penetrating eyes, for whatever reason. Were they interested in him? Perhaps they saw his rich garb, and wished for some philanthropy. He looked down, and saw the blood. Fat chance of that. Then why?
His question lasted all the way through the Elven Gardens and Market District, which he paid no attention to. Why were the beggars so interesting, then? He looked around to find himself, still with the Legion Soldiers, on the bridge to the prison isle.
"I thought I wasn't going to jail." Ezio said, looking at the soldiers.
"We lied." A huge force met the back of Ezio's head, and he fell instantly, unconscious.