My story is not so uncommon anymore.

I married Marcello twenty years ago. He was an honest, hard-working man. He made a decent wage and we raised a happy family. Our eldest son Cecilio joined him in his work when he was old enough. I loved them so much.

Then things changed when they came to Roma. They darkened our city as if casting a shadow, forcing the people into hiding. We were powerless as their presence grew in our once-glorious city. Her streets were filled with the resounding silence of fear, the quivering mice praying from his hiding spot as the hunting cat walks by. Bodies become a common sight on the streets, disappearances frequent. Paranoia and confusion ran rampant.

Marcello was determined to drive them away. He would not stand for their oppression. They joined the fight against them, he and my son, their past experiences lending them easily to their new life. They risked life and limb to protect the people, doing everything they could to crush the enemies, to save our beloved city. I was proud of them, but as time passed we grew more separate for the good of everyone.

"I hardly see you anymore. Can't you stay at home, just for tonight?" I would ask him, hugging him tightly. My words were muffled against his soft clothing, but he didn't need to hear them to know what I was asking. We both knew the answer, but I had to ask as always.

"It's too dangerous amore mio. What if they come after you or the kids?" He would reply, and I would nod and give him the bravest smile I could muster.

"I know darling. Go get them. Drive those miserable dogs from Roma." I would kiss him goodbye, and both of us would reluctantly linger for a few moments before he would pull away. I would watch his back as he disappeared into the crowd, to leave and serve his duties, and I would pray silently for his safety.

Cecilio visited sometimes as well, bringing small trinkets for his siblings. He hinted to me about how hard the training has gotten, how much harder the enemies fought. But always he left with the reassurance that we will come out on top.

Then one day, my life came crashing down about me. I had not heard from both my son and my husband for a week. Finally, Cecilio was brought home by his comrades. He had spent this entire time recovering from his wounds, but they feared he was beyond us now. I cried over his comatose body, holding his limp hands in prayer.

They had been ambushed, tricked and deceived by those monsters. Cesare Borgia himself was the one who killed each man with a bolt. Cecilio was the only one who survived. He wrote of what happened when he still had strength, the only truth we have about the attack. Without his valiant efforts none would have known of what had happened.

I will never forgive them, the White Demons that have so tainted our city.

My dear husband and son had been escorting criminals to be rightfully executed. Murderers, rapists, thieves, the worst mankind has to offer. They deserved nothing less than the gallows. That's when they appeared. The demons came down upon the our men then, throwing some powder that froze their bodies and ripped their spirit from their bodies. The Demons freed the condemned, and cut out the tongues of our terrified men. They forced them into the criminals' clothing and withdrew their paralyzing spell, allowing them movement once more. But that was no mercy they showed, only more cruelty. Not only did they free the dangerous convicts, allowing them to stalk the streets once more and terrify the citizens, they allowed our men to be executed in their place.

Cesare had been devastated to find that the men he killed had been his own. No one had expected such dirty, such dishonourable, such sickening tactics. They seek to wear at our spirits but they have only succeeded in steeling me against them.

I will not die until the day I see my city cleansed of the Assassin's wretched presence.

AN: I had to write this when I saw the mission on Project Legacy. I'm aghast sometimes at the things Ezio and his apprentices would do. You have to wonder how many innocent guards, who did no wrong except be rather unlucky, had fallen to Assassin Blades.