The once esteemed Auditore family are barbed in shackles and whipped with lies and slander to bring down the family that once held high grounds in flourishing Florence. Political schemes churn the pot with unforeseen consequences as Giovanni Auditore and his sons stand idle at the gallows with former friends and townsfolk pointing fingers blindly and shouting obscenities. All, but one son remains behind the rope: Ezio.
At the urgent request of his father, Ezio took hold of his father's secrets. He donned the assassins garb, took his codex, relinquished his outdated-yet-advanced stealth weaponry, and headed to the center of Florence to try and clear his family name while still unaware of the plight that brought them down.
Ezio had only one option left to him to clear his family's name. He was to seek out Leonardo da Vinci, a friend of the family though the aspiring hobbyist was an oddball for sure.
A swift knock on Leonardo's door garnered his attention. Ezio stumbled inside before the inventor could even open the door fully. "Ezio! I was beginning to worry about you." The shocked inventor was surprised by his friend's sudden appearance. Short of breath, paranoid, and hiding behind a wooden chair, Ezio reached into his assassin's garb to pull out an ancient codex scroll, tossing it over the chair as Leonardo fumbled to catch it. "What is this?" "I… I don't know. I was told to bring it to you." Leonardo stretched the scroll out on his worktable and scratched his chin. "Strange… It's not in Italian. It appears to be encrypted as well. I… Oh! Yes, yes! I see!" the inventor grabbed a spare piece of parchment and began dabbing some translations or rather on it while mumbling to himself. "What is it?" "Patience Ezio!" the assassin stayed mum though moved to hiding behind another wooden chair closer to Leonardo's station. "It's… It is a recipe…" Ezio perked his head up, resting his chin on the back of the chair as he stared up at Leonardo with confusion. "A recipe?" "Yes, for a lasagna." Ezio's face locked twisted, one eyebrow cocked down while the other rose. His lower jaw hung open. "A lasagna?! How will food save my family?!" The man was enraged by the discovery. "And… How can that ancient codex be a recipe for lasagna? I don't even think that kind of recipe is available now in this age?" Ezio's mind boggled for answers. Leonardo remained neutral on the matter and was more proud of himself for managing to translate the codex—which was evident by the way he continued to pat himself on the shoulder as Ezio raged.
"We will just have to see. Go now. Return to your home and prepare this lasagna." Leonardo said as he began to shoo Ezio away. The assassin leapt behind a new chair, not wanting to budge until his questions were answered. "I do not know how to cook. Why would my father leave me with a codex to make a lasagna?" Leonardo shrugged his adorable little shoulders then removed his sandals. "I have much work to do Ezio. You'll have to figure it out on your own. I know you can." "But!" "NO BUTTS!" The inventor began pelting his sandals at Ezio to shoo him away. He must have been hit by at least fifteen pairs before jumping out the window.
At the house of his family, Ezio ignored his unlocked doorway, instead choosing to dangerously scale the walls to find an open window. He breached his own house by barrelrolling into his own bedroom. Pulling out Leonardo's translated parchment, he began to look over the recipe, unsure of his abilities. Why would he dress as an assassin only to cook food instead? It didn't add up. Regardless, he felt he had to do it. He had to make the lasagna.
Ezio leapt out of his room, jumping off the walls in his narrow hallway till he reached the balcony overlooking the kitchen. He performed a leap of faith off the railing and landed on a sack of potatoes. "Okay… I need… Um… a pot?" he whispered to himself. Suddenly his vision blurred. He could see things in an aura of dark blue lighting. The man panicked at the sudden change, baffled by what he thought was sudden blindness. Ezio spun around in place till he noticed an even more oddity: the cast iron pot on the counter glowed with its own aura. He picked up the pot and suddenly his vision turned back to normal. "I… I don't know why that just happened? Why was I lead to this pot through some magical force? I always knew the pot was there. I didn't need guidance." His faith allowed the assassin to call out anonymously, hoping never to bear the strange vision aura ever again. "Okay, we have a pot. I'll just… Put this over here…" he said as he placed the pot over the hearth in the kitchen. An open flame welcomed the pot comfortably. "Now I need noodles…" Suddenly his vision became darkened and blue once more. "No! Not again! I know where the noodles are! I swear!" A bag of noodles sat on his counted glowing brightly. Ezio lifted the bag and his vision returned to normal. "Why does that keep happening?!" He dumped the contents of the bag into the pot then looked over the recipe once more for the next ingredient. It called for fifteen ounces of ricotta cheese. "The cheese is right here in front of me. Right next to my hand. I am going to pick it up now. Please don't guide me." His anxiety was well received. The assassin reached for the cheese and dumped it in the pot without any "annoyance" to hinder him. "Twelve ounces of mozzarella, a fourth of a cup of romano cheese, and a fourth of a cup of parmesan cheese." The assassin mumbled to himself. He didn't have either of those cheeses.
Suddenly, a bag was placed down in front of him. A tall man stood behind Ezio, smiling. "Uncle Mario?" There was a glimmer in his eye—the good eye—not the scarred one. Mario bear hugged Ezio. "Yes, I have come to help you clear the name of the Auditore family." Ezio was confused. "But… How did you know I was here? How did you know I was cooking? How are you in Florence? I don't understand." Mario lowered his head, shutting his eyes slowly as he flashed a dashing and manly smirk. "Believe in your uncle, Ezio. I work in mysterious ways." He said as he placed a hand on Ezio's shoulder. "Okay, I just don't care anymore. Let's just get this done." The assassin rolled his eyes and huffed as he emptied the bag. He dumped Mario's parmesan and mozzarella into the pot while Uncle Mario threw a wooden spoon into the mix. "Now I just stir it and hope for the best." Ezio approached the pot. The wooden spoon lay against the rim of the pot, eager to stir the boiling contents around in a whirlpool of delicious Italian cuisine. Ezio moved his hand forward, pushing the spoon as he would to casually push folks away throughout his street commute. "Why can't I hold the spoon?" he said as he kept pushing it away. "It's like… It's like I'm not doing this right?" "Try getting closer nipote." Mario said as he watched Ezio struggle. Ezio shimmed a little closer to the pot and grabbed a hold of the spoon, churning it fiercely as Uncle Mario sang tunes of Frank Sinatra. "Who is that?" Ezio said as he listened to Mario's singing. "I'm not sure. I have never heard this song before. I don't even know what the words mean." Mario said as he continued to sing "Autumn in New York". "I think there's something strange going on. Our actions don't make any sense. I still don't know why I'm cooking. I don't know why my father and brothers are to be hanged. I don't know why I'm dressed as an assassin. I don't even feel like I should know I'm an assassin. I feel like someone or something else is in control of my fate." Ezio said just before he ignored his further questions and conspiring thoughts. "I still feel like someone is controlling us." But he stopped feeling that way shortly after proclaiming such nonsense. "Something evil and more advanced than that of my own understanding is happening." said Ezio just before he stopped questioning the author's authority. "Do I even want to know the truth?" NO, HE JUST WANTS TO MAKE A FUCKING LASAGNE. He knew if he didn't, a fate worse than death would await him if he continued to ignore his role and question life. "I just want to make this lasgne and be done with it." said Ezio as he continued his totally normal quest to clear his family's name.
"Nipote, the codex says you need garlic." Mario proclaimed. Ezio reached into the cupboards for a sack of garlic, dicing it up with his hidden blade before climbing to the top of the counter. Once perched on the kitchen counter, he tossed the garlic into the pot then performed a leap of faith onto the floor. He never questioned why he did that. Uncle Mario continued his singing as Ezio stirred the pot. "How long do I have to keep this up?" Ezio asked. "A few more minutes." Mario replied.
Minutes passed. The food was complete. Ezio poured the contents into a saucer. It was the most beautiful and perfectly rectangular lasagna to ever pour out of a rounded pot. "The codex says you should bring it to Rodrigo Borgia tomorrow morning at the hanging." Ezio sighed. He expected the logic of the ancient codex to say as much.
Nothing happened later that day. Let's skip to tomorrow morning.
In the morning, Ezio let Mario slumber further before sneaking out the window with the lasagna. He traversed the rooftops of Florence before coming into contact with loud heckling cries. At the center, His father and brothers stood shouting back at Rodrigo as the man accused them of treason. "I find you all guilty!" Rodrigo shouted. "Wait!" Suddenly, the crowd fell silent. All eyes were on Ezio as the man made his way to the gallows. He held out a saucer of lasagna which intrigued Rodrigo. "It's… It's lovely. This is evidence enough that the Auditore family is innocent!" he shouted to the crowd. Giovanni and his sons were freed from the ropes and embraced Ezio in an adorable glomping hug as Rodrigo ran past the stunned templars with the lasagna.
There was peace in Italy once more.
The End. :3