What's thisss? An Assassin's Creed fanfiction? No way!
This is actually brand-new kittens, so I hope you enjoy. Rate and whatnot at your discretion. I welcome all feedback. Even negative :D
Also: I do not own any of the characters listed, though I do own the game. Credit for their creation goes to Assassin Creed's brilliant makers. I will always be in their debt.
From where he sat, Ezio had a perfect view of the festivities…
Brown eyes glinted with interest from behind a mask that did more to hide his identity than the traditional cowl ever could. He sat comfortably on a rooftop's edge, looking down upon the merry crowd, silently toying with the idea of a masked assassin rather than a hooded one. Or perhaps a masked, hooded assassin… Surely it would hold the same measure of mysterious allure…? Maybe even more so. Hm.
He watched the people dance below him, spinning and turning in time with the music that drifted up to his ears. Fire breathers mingle amongst the crowd, lighting the night with flashes of brilliant flames that seemed to be born from their bellies, rivaling that of the curious sparklers that spun from the banners draped over their heads. Acrobats were also placed intermittently, supporting their weight (sometimes, a little too much weight in Ezio's opinion… Especially for clothes so tight) on their hands and showing off their balance. Everyone seemed entranced by the mood of gaiety that prevailed at this time of Carnivale.
In silence, he surveyed all this, eyes flicking through the crowd as he suppressed the childish urge to join the fun. He had a purpose here. Such simplicities could be enjoyed another day, when he was not charged with ending someone's life. Despite that thought, scarred lips twisted into a smile beneath the porcelain mask.
A surge of impatience drove him to switch his sight to that of the eagles'; scanning those gathered below on the off chance he had missed something. The lanterns around him suddenly took on an ethereal glow as the world blurred then darkened. A far off group of courtesans glowed a dazzling blue, the only patches of color among the crowd of dancers. Not even the red of guards permeated the area with their offensive presence. At least, if they were there at that moment, they were no threat to him… For now, all was safe and clear and dismally devoid of much color. A thin tendril of frustration snaked its way through Ezio's mind at the blatant lack of shimmering gold.
His target was late…
The assassin gave the crowd one last dismissive once-over, sighing softly. Perhaps it would be best to meet the target in transit rather than here. It would certainly be less populated…
But wait… a flash of gold, just beyond the real span of his vision. Ezio smiled as his target moved slowly into his view, flanked by three guards. Red and gold now lit up the once dim scene, draining the area of what little color it had while his eyes used this sight. He stood and silently dropped down onto a streamer-adorned post to get a better vantage point, watching as his target made his way through the dancing venetians.
Switching back to his normal vision, Ezio could see the look of unease the guards all shared. They too, like the watching assassino knew just how dangerous it was amongst a chaotic group like this… He considered the three lightly armored men, thanking Dio that their charge still found such festivities invigorating. It made things all the easier for him. Now… what should be done first…?
From his perch, Ezio weighed his options. Should he take the guards down first, then his target? Or perhaps the target then the guards…? He shifted his balance slightly as he thought, holding his arms aloft to keep from falling. The target then the guards, he decided with a sense of inevitability, knowing that upon the man's death more guards would follow anyway, drawn by the surrounding peoples' startled and fearful screams. What were three more guards added to that number? If things got too troublesome, he could always sprint away… A quick glance brought the canal into view. Although Venezia's water wasn't exactly known for being clean, it was till a better alternative to an arrow piercing his flesh. Or a spear. Or a dagger. Or a sword. Anything with a sharp point, really. He'd rather stink than be in pain-or worse- dead. But his escape wasn't exactly the main thing to consider here… He had a target to kill…
And with that determination, the moment was upon them both, target and assassin…
Ezio swallowed, taking a deep breath before propelling himself off the post towards the man dressed in far from somber finery. In mid-air, he extended a hidden blade with the flick of his thumb, lips pressed into a tight smile brought on by the momentary exhilaration of flight. Then it was up to gravity to lend him force as his hand snapped to the man's throat, blade burying itself deep into flesh. His free hand flashed out to stabilize his landing, absorbing the remainder of his weight and transferring that energy into the pavers upon which he now crouched. The man fell, red hat tumbling from his head as his hands fluttered uselessly, not quite pulling at the metal that invaded his person, though his eyes clearly said that is what he desired. The man choked as the blade slid from his throat, the sound alone sickening. Ezio turned to face him, wishing to get a true look at his target's face before the man died.
Words died in the assassin's throat as his eyes met the man's own. Ice spread through his veins, slowly numbing his body; the world around him slowed to a crawl. The man's expression was clearly startled, completely unprepared for such a quick demise. A terrible noise gurgled from his throat as he parted bloodied lips to say something, shredded windpipe not even granting him that last wish.
Ezio's own throat went dry, eyes tracing over the man's features, taking it in; seeing, but not believing; rejecting this horrible sight before him. Yet the blood on his hands was still there, warming his skin. His voice was hoarse when he finally managed to speak, moving to cradle the man's form in an unspoken apology. "Leonardo…" He whispered the name and shock coursed through him at its finality. "I'm sorry…" The murmured words would do nothing, for the artist was too far gone. In his arms, his friend drew his last breath, once bright eyes growing dim, the old vivaciousness of his expression as his soul left his body. He paid no mind as the guards around him rallied, weapons drawn, to kill one so brash as to kill their charge in their presence. "So sorry…" The apology simply wasn't enough, as Leonardo's blood began to dry on Ezio's hands and stain his robes. It would never be enough...
I actually like this. Alsoooo... I have decided that this will have at least one other chapter. (If only so I can torture myself some more) So um... again... let me know what you think, ok?