Chapter 1: Birth of a Legend
"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all Men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness – That to secure these Rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just Powers from the Consent of the Governed, that whenever any form of Government becomes destructive of these Ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its Foundation on such Principles, and organizing its Powers in such Form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness."
~The Unanimous Declaration of the thirteen United States of America (The Declaration of Independence)
Constantinople, 1511
The streets of Constantinople were quiet that night. Byzantine guards patrolled the streets silently, the sound of their footsteps almost in sync as they echoed down the streets. Archers stalked silently among the rooftops. The battle-hardened men cast their predatory glances towards anyone who seemed suspicious, which there was barely anyone in sight for them to make such a judgement. And from the darkness below, a shadowy figure slowly emerged from the alleyway. His tunic was a dark, smokey grey, and there were red ribbons that were attached to his belt. The man's face was hidden by the shadows his hood cast over him, leaving only his slightly bearded jaw visible to any on-lookers. Who was this man strange man? He was, in fact, The Mentor, Ezio Auditore de Firenze.
Meanwhile, on the rooftops above, another hooded figure –whom appeared to be much younger than Ezio- crept up behind one of the archers and put a hand over his mouth, driving his hidden blade into his back, piercing through his internal organs. Once he was sure that the archer was too weak to scream, he released him, and the Byzantine silently crumpled to the ground. The figure looked to be at least 14 years of age, wearing garments of all black color. Like Ezio, the hood he wore cast a shadow over his face, revealing nothing for anyone to see. Was this another Assassin? A rival? Perhaps he was both, but such judgement's required evidence, and this boy was nothing more than a blank page; a mystery. As Ezio began to move down the street, the boy swiftly followed from above. His footsteps were eerily silent, not making a single sound, nor a creak of resistance from the roof material. And The Mentor was completely oblivious to the young Assassin who was following him in the darkness of the night. After a moment of walking, a patrol of Byzantine Templar's emerged from around the corner, their swords drawn and blood in their eyes. There were perhaps eight -maybe nine of them.
"There he is!" One of the Templar's shouted. "It's the Assassin! Kill him!"
Ezio unsheathed Altaïr's eagle-head sword from its scabbard and immediately threw himself into battle. He dispatched the first Byzantine guard with ease, slicing his throat open with a single swing of his blade. The boy finally appeared on the roof above. immediately noticing the danger that Ezio was in, he jumped down and drove his blade into the neck of a Templar that had a clear opening to kill Ezio, throwing him to the ground and drawing his sword in a swift movement. His sword was a rather strange piece. The blade was normal-sized, but was as black as night. The cross guard was made of a black metal, the grip of his sword composed of white leather straps, and the pommel was in the shape of an hooded-angel with its wings wrapped around itself. Ezio turned to see that he was there, but since he clearly saved him from what could have been a killing blow, he didn't register the boy as a threat. Instead, he continued to battle the Byzantine's. Ezio aimed a high swing at an armored Templar wielding a spear. He blocked the attack, and disarmed him with a quick swipe. This left him wide open for an attack though. The experienced Assassin landed a kick to the stomach and rolled over his back with his hook blade as the armored troop bent over in surprise and pain. But at the same time, Ezio slit the man's throat open before moving on to the next enemy. There were only five left.
The boy was surrounded by three sword-wielding Templar's. Anyone in their right mind would be panicking slightly. But whether it be that he was truly fearless, or he had been possessed by some strange demon, he calmly put his sword away and waited. The Templar's decided to attack, thinking that they had the upper-hand. But little did they know that they had made a terrible mistake to underestimate this Assassin. One Templar stabbed at him with his sword. He spun and ducked under the blade, driving the hidden blade on his left wrist into the man's liver, while swiftly disarming him of his sword and spinning away, causing his blood to spray onto the ground from the gash that the boy had just formed. The young Assassin used the sword to drive it into another Templar's head, who fell to the ground as he dispatched the last one by driving both his hidden blade's into his eyes. He shrieked in pain, falling silent as his throat was slit open, and he collapsed to the ground. The boy stood there, blood covering his robe's from head-to-toe.
The fighting ended with the two Assassin's standing back-to-back in the middle of their corpses, both of them soaked in blood, but not even out of breath. The Mentor sheathed his sword and turned to face the boy.
"Grazie, mi amichi." Ezio placed a fist over his heart and slightly bowed his head. "Without you, I surely would have perished."
"There is no thanks needed, Mentor," the boy replied dryly, his voice course and rough. "I'm here to help, and I have done that."
The Assassin began to walk away, but Ezio raised a hand and spoke.
"Wait, who are you?"
Ever so slowly, he turned around to face The Mentor. He kept his head low and his face hidden. Ezio could finally make out the half-mask that covered up to the bridge of his nose.
"I am merely a dark messenger," he said. "The one who hides in the shadow's to battle in the name of GOD... I, am the Night Angel."
And with that, the boy ran into an alleyway and disappeared under the blanket of darkness. It was just in time as three masked Assassins jumped down from the rooftop's with their swords drawn. They approached the alleyway to follow the mysterious figure, but stopped when Ezio raised his hand for them to cease.
"Mentor," one of them questioned. There was a hint of Arabic in his accent. "Is that wise? What if he comes back to kill you?"
The Mentor merely waved his hand at the Assassin and turned to walk away.
"He is not a threat," Ezio reassured. "And even if he was, you know that he would not last too long against me."
The youngest Assassin took a step forward. "Ezio- I mean MENTOR, what was the man's name?"
The experienced Assassin halted, granting a moment of silence. He turned back to the young one and replied:
"That was an Assassin who will become a legend one day. Someone who will be remembered for all time, but will pass as merely a shadow upon the mark of history. He is The Night Angel."
Asheville, North Carolina; Present Day
A blond middle-aged woman lay in her hospital bed with her newborn son. Her husband was there for the delivery, but they had yet to decide a name for him. The woman was thinking for a good, suitable name when a knocked sounded at the door. A male doctor -who looked to be in his mid-sixty's- stuck his head into the room.
"Ms. Redwoods," he announced softly. "Your husband is here."
She nodded, and a tall man wearing a Delta Force uniform stepped inside.
"Hey beautiful."
"Hey."
The father pulled a chair up next to the bed and sat next to his wife. He stared down at his son with pride and love gleaming in his blue eyes.
"I think I have a name for our little boy," he said.
The mother almost bolted upright. "What is it? What name do you have for our son?"
He reached over gently and held his son in his arms. The boy was sound asleep. The father reached up with a fingerless-gloved hand and tapped his nose lightly.
"John," he finally said. "John Alexander Redwoods."
"I love it." The blond woman let out a light chuckle. "He DOES look like a John."
The uniformed man stepped over to the window of the hospital room and stared out to the city of Asheville that was covered by a blanket of darkness. This would be his sons home until he was all grown-up. The father leaned in and whispered something into the infants ear.
"John," he started. "I see something great inside of you. Something that tells me that you are destined to do great things one day. You may not realize it later on, but it'll come to you. Remember that your mommy and I are here for you, even when we die we're still there for you." He kissed the boys head. "One day... You'll become a legend. And everyone will remember you by what you did for the people. One day, John... One day..."
End of Chapter 1
Oh my god! So stowcked! :D This is probably gonna' be my greatest OC fanfiction. But hey, that's my opinion. Tell me what you think about it so far. I don't care if it's good or bad critisism, I welcome it all.
Thanks for reading! X3 (I feel so SSSSSSsspecccial! XD)
~Blade
