Brief descriptions on the OC appearance for a better idea.

Name: Luca Buscharino (F)
Age: Born in 1467 (22 when story starts)
Height: 5'3
General physical image: Lean. Slightly to the fair side.
Hair: Short dark red hair with long side bangs that reached just above her chest. The back of her hair is very short, often showing a little neck.
Eyes: Cool-gray and doe-liked, but usually set in a sharp glare.
Outfit: She wears a dark blue coat over sandy robes. The coat is sleeveless, has an ordinary hood and swallow liked tail. She ties an azure sash and wears a pair of dull red trousers with leather greaves. A metal wrist guard on her right hand and a leather one on her left. Had a thin red scarf around her neck.
Birthplace: Venice
Armed Weapons: Throwing knives, Notched Cinquedea and Metal Cestus. Prefers carrying small weapons. Will take a sword from guard only when fighting.

Setting: Venice

Time line: After Ezio's been inducted into the Brotherhood and before the corruptions of memories.

Ezio breathed into his palms and rubbed them together. He raised his head for a brief moment to the silvery arc which seemed to be floating in a dark abyss.

The night was late, almost to the devil's hour, and not a soul would leave their dwellings. He had been suffering the cold of the roofs since evening, his fingers and nose had gone numb.

His eagle vision perceived his target fleeing toward Northeast, two blocks away. He sprinted a little and hopped onto ropes that linked to the opposite roofs. The ropes creaked dangerously, protesting at the sudden weight, but he never give much thought about it as they almost never fail him.

This time, his target was something new for him. It wasn't a thief, nor soldier or mercenary, and definitely not a politician or some conspirator. It was a female in dark blue coat with the hood pulled low and an azure sash, a girl. La Volpe was the one who informed him of this peculiar target, yet he didn't reveal anything else other than her appearance and the fact that she would be a tough target. Ezio had laughed at the latter, promising he would catch her in no time, but now he almost sulked as he chewed on his words.

For two nights he tracked her, and each time he got so close as to ambush, she slipped out of his fingers like smoke. He slowly understood why the fox and Machiavelli wanted her dead. Despite being agile, she was smart, and Ezio suspected she was thinking ahead of him. She could even perform free-running better than the nimblest thief, a skill no commoner can do...

Ezio lost sight of her when she disappeared under the roofs. She had led him to the port. This meant she was going to leave Venice, and sail to Lord-knows-where. This would be his last chance if he hope to ever succeed in his damned mission, or be the laughing stock of Machiavelli for the rest of his live.

Glancing over the roof, he frowned at the height. It was a little further than he would have liked but time was running short. He jumped, braced himself when his boots touched hard ground, and rolled to reduce the momentum.

His eyes scanned the dock. Not many would travel this late at night, yet it was difficult to spot her. Her dark coat allowed her to harmonize with her surroundings, and the crescent moon wasn't helping at all. But Ezio determined that his eagle vision could do better than this.

The little speck of gold had noticed her hunter, and was fleeing once again. The hunter quickly set himself hot on her tail. She changed course, zig zagging though the dark alleys, back to the heart of the district. Soon, she was swallowed by the massive shadow of Santa Maria Gloriosa del Frari.

No less than three groups of guards were on patrol, and half that number were stationed at every entrance. There were even more guards on the roofs. If Ezio chase after her, he would be in deep trouble. She could run up to a guard, pretend to be a poor poor citizen chased by some rapist... He had no strength to fight the brutes. Quietly, he crept toward a haystack and rolled himself into it, fingers turning the notch of his pistol.

Tugging at her hood and dipping her head, she strode pass a group of passing patrol. A guard shot her a glance, but that was all he did since he figured she couldn't do any harm to him even if she tried. Her stride was slow yet purposeful, each step leading her closer to her next hiding place.

Ezio narrowed his eyes at her small back as he took aim. The distance was great, but if the aim was true, it could be as deadly as a sword through the heart. But the girl suddenly stopped in mid stride. She brought her feet together, rubbing her fingers before she balled them into fists. Then she turned at Ezio's direction. He was sure she couldn't see him with all the straws around him, but he almost felt her staring straight at his eyes.

He fired the moment she broke into a run, the bullet skidding off the pavement. "Damn it to hell!" Since the loud explosion had already given him away, Ezio jumped out of his hiding. He drew his knives and sent two flying at her direction. However, as if she had eyes behind her head, she jumped, and the knives planted into a brute of an upcoming patrol group.

Seeing that their comrade was stabbed both on the forehead and chest, the guards were outraged. They saw the girl jumped, and the next moment the death of the brute, thus they came to their own conclusion.

"Get her!" An elite guard shouted, drawing his sword. She didn't hesitate to unsheathe her notched Cinquedea, and sliced it through the enemy's neck. She moved fluidly to the other guards, displaying a series of fluent combat moves while dancing for the massacre.

Another group of patrol ran over to aid their comrades, and soon joined by several stationed guards, adding up to a total twelve, while a couple of Militia fled the moment they had the chance. Even with all the guards surrounding her, she strike fiercely, aiming for loose joints in the armors, necks and heads.

When the brute brought down his war axe, her little weapon would be no different from a twig and was forced to jumped back, which gave the guard behind her a chance to lacerate at her unprotected back. The girl let out a howl of pain.

She deflected an upcoming sword, quickly bent over and stabbed her Cinquedea into the feet of a guard. As she pulled her weapon upward, she tilted the tip outward to form a tall crescent arc that ultimately connected with his chest, neck and chin. While two others were taken aback by her stunts, she threw two knives at them, straight into their throats.

Then came the dreading whoosh of arrows. It was obvious that the archers' sights were close to useless in such dark night. They merely followed the commotion and flashing of metals. One of the arrow even caught itself in a guard's leg.

By the time she finished off three more guards, earning herself several cuts in the process. Ezio was torn between decisions. He could just let the guards finish her up and save him the work, which, at this point, was quite close. Yet he didn't like others snatching his prey right under his nose.

He sprinted.

The girl was quickly aware of his approach, and alarmed. The brute had proven to be more hardy than she had expected, and her wounds had grown into burdens. In such critical time, she would choose to flee, to reach higher grounds that promised safety. Caught in between the walls and guards, and an upcoming threat, she flicked her eyes upwards, scanning the wall, and saw a foothold above her.

She lunged at an elite, the arc of her slash less than an inch from his neck when he back stepped to avoid it. It was only a bluff. She crouched swiftly, eyes gauging the distance of the foothold, and sprang.

The next moment, she was slammed against the wall. She was completely defenseless during mid-jump, let alone a guard ramming himself onto her. She flipped her weapon, and flung her arm backward. The blade connected with the guard's side, and from the softness of it, she judged it was his stomach. But he didn't move away, the cut wasn't as deep as she wanted.

She rolled her eyes to the sky, as if seeking forgiveness from above, when she twisted the blade still in the guard's body. The pain was insufferable, and she knew it was an act of pure cruelty against her policies.

The body above her gave out a loud cry before tensing up, and released his grip. She turned and kicked him into the brute. The big guy didn't know if his comrade was dead, fear leaked through his determination, and he stumbled backward. That little moment was all she needed to jumped and rammed him to the ground with her feet. Her weight might mean nothing to his huge size, and could have swap her away like a fly, but never have the chance to do so. A flash of silver extinguished his life.

The girl couldn't afford to linger above her kill, and turned to face the remaining guards. As she moved, the one closest to her raised his sword.

A blur of white and red tackled the guard, sending him flying several feet away and landed with a series of clanks. His sword fell out of his hand, his body limped.

Dim moonlight outlined the figure, and the burning torches basked him in warm vermilion. It was the assassin, sworn to kill her and yet saved her from being cut into ribbons. She couldn't comprehend his actions, and she hated it when she doesn't understand her enemy. Plucking a knife from her boots, she flung it behind her, killing a guard that tried to sneak upon her.

Two more guards were left, standing among the bodies of their companions. They glanced at each other, showing nothing but fear in their eyes and ran for their lives. The girl, still crouched above the dead brute, bared her teeth in a low snarl.

"Go ahead, Ezio." A deep voice reached their ears from the shadows.

-To be continued-

Author's note: I'm sure you've heard this many times, but this is my first AC fanfiction, thus I'm working to make it a success. Do R&R thank you! =]