"When I was a young man, I had liberty, but I did not see it. I had time, but I did not know it. And I had love, but I did not feel it. I can not seem to leave my past behind me. And I know at any moment, someone could come for me. Or my family. I knew I would not have enough time to do everything. Now I worry I do not have time to do anything."
Sighing, he closed the leather bound book and replace the white feather quil in the jar of ink. His life playing back through his mind. But he could not erase the pain he had suffered. The anger he felt. Or the sorrow he was plagued with. The sting of everything he had lost because of his actions never lessened. And now here he was, regreting it all with spite.
"Would you be proud of me, father?" He asked to no one. He had left the creed, not long after he had discovered the secrets of his ancestor. He had never forgot of what had become of this. He was forced to hide away, and pray that no one would ever find him again. He gave up his friends so he could spend the last of his time on this world in peace. He gave up what had formed most of his life. And here he was, just wishing he could start it all over.
A knock on the door snapped him from his thoughts. He immidiantly looked up as a young woman with auburn hair and eyes like emeralds entered the room. He smiled softly to her.
"Can't sleep?" She asked as he came towards him, and placed her hand gently over his. Her expression seemed of care and exhaustion. A look that she seemed to pull off still looking like she was a dream. It didn't seem to bother him at all.
"It's nothing, amore." He assured calmly as he put away the leather book. "Are Flavia and Marcello in bed yet?" It was getting too late for the two be up.
"Yes, they are." She answered. Then she sighed. "Ezio?"
"Hm?" He was looking out the window, the dark of night making the grass almost blue and silvery stars shimmered on a moonless night.
The woman came up next to him. "Are you planning on telling them?"
Meeting her eye to eye, he answered. "No, I do not. They should not have to deal with all that I've had to live with."
"So we never mention it? But what if they ask?"
"Then I'll tell them that I had been doing what I should have. Banking..." Although he felt like a stone had dropped in his stomach upon his last word, he knew it was for his childrens' own good. What he had lived through didn't matter anymore.
"Then what about that scar?" She chuckled as she traced an index over the cavernous line which split his beard and cut through the corner of his lips.
"Then I tell them I was in a fight a long time ago." Ezio answered. "I wouldn't be lying." And he still remembered the bastard who gave it to him via rock thrown to the face.
She smiled. He loved it when she did, as she could light up a room just by grinning. And with just softness that one would never expect from someone like him, he kissed her.
When he pulled back, he carefully brushed her cheek with the palm of his hand. "I promise, it will be better without them having to know. And my only thing left is to make sure you, and our children are safe. No matter what."
"So you won't train them in sword fighting?" She questioned.
"Never."
"And you aren't telling them about the Brotherhood you once belonged to?"
"As long as it is what will protect them."
They kissed again and then she walked to the door. Then turned. "Maybe you should go and rest, I'll be with you shortly."
He nodded in agreement, then walked to the door and into the hallway. His footsteps naturally light and almost soundless as he came down to another room where he creaked open the door to look inside. There lay in seperate beds a small boy and girl. That heavy stone of guilt only grew to a boulder. What if there was no way for him to protect the ones he loved. What if they ended up like his father and brothers. Hung. Killed. Murdered. Or what if they ended up like him. An outsider. Traitor. Probably nearing his own demise.
As he shut the door, he looked up, and found himself blinking several times in either shock or disbelief. There in front of him stood his father! His arms crossed and look disapproving. In a split moment, he was gone. But the message was plainly clear and obvious. He wasn't proud of him turning around and running away from the Creed for his own reasons. He didn't think he was doing any good.
"Father?"
His lost gaze switched nad he looked down, there stood his daughter. A dirty blonde fair skinned child. Tiny and helpless. He kneeled down in front of her, and asked in the most gentle of voices, "Why are you up, Flavia?"
She was rubbing sleep out of her eyes, a little doll loosely held in her other hand. "I heard what you and mother said." The petite blonde looked down guiltily. Knowing that it was wrong for her to of spyed.
"Why did you eavedrop?" He questioned calmly.
"I- I'm sorry. I just wanted to know why you and mother are always talking so quietly and sending me and Marcello to bed early. I don't understand."
Ezio couldn't say she blamed her. Then he mentally cursed. She was BORN with his curiousity. And she was BORN with his instincts. She worried him with this because that was how he turned into what he had. He only put a hand on her shoulder. "How much did you hear?"
"I heard a lot..." She answered, still guilty.
He sighed. "When you're older. Maybe I'll explain this to you, and Marcello. But you're young. You don't need to worry about these things. Understand, bambina."
"I do, but why must you hide things?" She pressed. Born with her Aunt's stubbornness as well.
"Trust me. It's for your own good." He kissed her forehead and picked her up before reentering her and Marcello's shared bedroom. "Now I think you should go to sleep. It's late."
"But I'm not tired." She yawned.
Ezio smirked. Then he got an idea. "Do you know what happened when children didn't go to bed when they're suppost to?"
"What?" She asked, already pulling the blanket up.
He then assulted her tickish ribs, the one spot he knew that always made her laugh until she was out of breath. Of course it worked. "They're old man comes and gets them!"
"Mercy! Mercy!" She laughed, squirming to get away from his fingers. When he finally stopped, she was smiling and giggling.
"Good night, sweetheart." He then stood up and kissed her forehead before pulling the covers up over her.
"Good night, father." She replied, then she tucked into the blankets. He casted one last glance over his shoulder before leaving her and her brother.