Unfortunately, I do not own AC. I only take credit for my dear OC's.
There may be some slight OOC with certain characters, but I shall do my best to keep everyone IC.
Enjoy, rate, and review if you'd like! :) And please no flames, as this is my first time attempting an AC story.
Early Fall, 1478
The sun rose late and lazy that humid day. It seemed like it took ages before it shone, at last, bold and bright across the Verona streets that slowly began to fill with people. Vendors in the marketplaces began their calls for their goods, mothers young and old were up at the moment dawn broke to prepare the early morning meal, start the laundry, or tend to young children.
But, even long after the sun had risen and begun its daily sojourn across the sky, there was one whom was still sleeping, although it was far from a restful night. In the heart of Veronesi, a beautiful, pale grey stone villa lay, bathed in sunlight. The architecture bore a designedly Greek style, with a plentiful assortment of various Greek décor; small fountains featuring different gods and goddesses poured clear water into decorative stone basins, spread across the villa's walls. A collection of various homes, stores, and workshops surrounded a round, cobblestone courtyard, with trees peppered between the buildings. In its center, a large, elaborate fountain, carved with grape vines, featured a statue of a lovely young woman holding a basket of grapes in her lap, kneeling and gazing lovingly at her little daughter nearby, whom, at no more than 2 years old, plucked grapes from a vine.
Around this fountain, young men and women stopped to chat as merchants and workmen began to bustle to provide the villa's daily supplies. The villa's manor, an ornate, sprawling building, echoing the Parthenon, stood down a path behind the fountain, with a lovely view of the entire courtyard and a wide set of stairs leading to the manors doors. Through said doors, up the grand, spiral staircase, and up one more small flight of stairs, a lovely young lady lay abed.
The girl was fast asleep, although the doors to her balcony were open, letting in the early morning sunshine. The curtains on her canopy bed fluttered in the breeze, but the cooling breeze did nothing to calm the girl, who was tangled in her bed sheets like a fly in a spider's web. Thrashing from side to side, her thick, dark brown curls clung to her sweaty neck. She was having a nightmare, and she knew it. Yet why couldn't she wake up?
For the past few months, every single night, the girl had been having very vivid nightmares. She was always being pursued; always running from someone, but whom, exactly, she was running from varied with each nightmare she had. She was always terrified that she would get caught, and yet she felt a thrill of exhilaration every time she glanced back at her pursuer, whose face and appearance was also prone to changing.
This time, her nightmare was the worst one yet. Dressed in clothes that were faded and old, she wove in and out of people in a busy, Middle Eastern bazaar. The guards of the city she was in were not after her, but, instead, it was an intimidating looking man dressed in white. She was always too far ahead of him to make out his face, or other details of his appearance. She just knew she had to keep running. Finally, she scrambled her way up the wall of building and jumped down on the other side. She thought she had finally escaped, but gasped in shock when she heard her pursuer drop neatly down in front of her, trapping her. He started to walk towards and was reaching out his hand…
"Eaaaaaaaaaaah!" She screamed, waking instantly and sitting up in bed, a hair curling scream pouring from her mouth. Realizing what she'd done, she stuffed her knuckles in her mouth, hoping that she had cut off her scream before any servants came running; but she was too late. Downstairs, and upstairs, she could hear thundering feet as they sped around corners, down steps, and through rooms to see what was the matter.
The first one at her door, nearly throwing her door off the wall, was a chubby, darkly tanned Italian woman with short, fluffy black hair, dressed in a black servants dress with a smudged white apron. Her face was flushed and she rushed over to the girl, muttering to herself. "Madre di Dio, figlia, qual è il tuo problema?" She said in an anxious voice, grabbing her shoulders. "I'm fine, Chachi, fine. Just a…nightmare, that's all." "A nightmare? Ah, mia cara, come here." The girl's nanny wrapped her arms around her and gave her a soft, warm hug. "It's all over now. You're safe; right where you belong." A faint grumble came from the girls belly under her sheet. Smiling, Chachi stood and helped up the girl. "Let's see if we can't find you some breakfast, no?"
After a filling breakfast, the girl dressed herself in a lovely, dark charcoal dress with white pinstripes and a black corset, leaving her shining, dark brown tresses down her back, tied with a long red ribbon. She headed outside into the midmorning Verona sunshine and went around her manor home, to the yards at the villa, which were miles of sprawling green hills with rows of deep purple grapes.
Peering down each row near the manor, she finally spotted her father down one row, a few faint beads of sweat trickling down his tan face, the sun's rays making his thinning brown and silver hair glint. "Buongiorno, Papa!" She said, leaning over his shoulder and pecking his cheek. "Ciao, Traviatta." He said, smiling at her. "Chachi told me that you had another nightmare." He said, looking concerned, as he dropped a few more grapes into the basket at his feet. "I did. It was one of the worst one's I've had." "Who was chasing you this time?" "Another man. This time he was all in white, but I couldn't see his face. I was in the Middle East somewhere." Signor Luigi Sognitore stood up and put his hands on his daughter's small shoulders. "Darling, you'll be sure to tell me if anything… happens today while you're out with Isabella and Martina?" "Of course, Papa. But, why?" Luigi shook his head and smiled. "No reason. I just want mia bambina to be safe." Traviatta nodded and, picking up her father's basket of grapes, she turned back towards the manor. "Now, have fun today! And remember to be home by dusk! I have something to show you." Unable to restrain her excitement at seeing her friends, Traviatta beamed and him and hurried back towards the manor.
Traviatta dropped off the basket of grapes with her father's workers at the barn, which was full of the rich, sweet smell of wine as it fermented and grapes being pressed by many pairs of brown feet. After checking to make sure that all was well at the barn, Traviatta dusted herself off and left the manor. She went down the path, through the courtyard, and out into the streets of Verona, to find her friends at the marketplace. It was the beginning of the last normal day Traviatta Sognitore would ever know.
Trying her best to be patient, Traviatta slowly wove in, out, and between the various men, women, and the occasional child that were roaming their way through the busy Verona streets. Eventually, she went around a corner and grinned brightly; two girls, both about Traviatta's age of 18, stood next to a market stall, chatting amicably. The taller of the two was a willowy girl with tan skin and dark red hair. Her dress was dark blue and simple, but pretty. The girls face was soft and dreamy as she talked with her friend, a plump blonde girl with thick dark ringlets and a dark pink dress covered in big pink flowers.
Suddenly, the red headed girl whirled around and a grin spread across her face. "Hey! Traviatta's here!" The girl cried, nudging her friend. Traviatta beamed and sprinted forward, hugging the redhead tightly. "Isabella, I missed you so much!" Traviatta said, releasing her to look her in the eyes. "How was Spain?" She asked her half Spanish, half Italian best friend. "Wonderful!" Isabella replied, her voice a unique mixture of Spanish and Italian accents. "Well, Traviatta, now that this reunions over, could you spare me a hug too?" The blonde girl piped in, smirking playfully. "Of course you can, Martina!" Traviatta giggled, running to her and giving her a hug too. "Are you girls ready to go?" Isabella asked after they released each other. "I am if you are." Traviatta answered her. "Bene! Then let's go! I have a few things I'd like to pick up."
The girls stopped by numerous merchant stalls and booths, gazing at the wares displayed at each merchants table. Traviatta was so happy to be among both of her friends again, after what had felt like an eternity. After the girls had bought a few things apiece, as well as picked up some cheese and pastries for lunch, Traviatta stopped them near an almost empty side road. She pulled previously hidden bundle from inside her basket and vanished down the alley.
She emerged a few minutes later dressed in a peasants white blouse and black trousers, with a red ribbon tying back her long hair. "What kind of an outfit is that?!" Martina exclaimed when Traviatta reappeared. "A brilliant one, that's what! Do you have an extra set?" Isabella asked excitedly. "Absolutely! Here!" Traviatta handed another bundle of clothes to Isabella, who vanished down the alley herself. When she came back, dressed in a brown shirt and black trousers, Martina looked uncertain. "My father will murder me if I get caught wearing an outfit like that…" "Live a little, Martina!" "I really don't think I should…" "Come on, per favore? For me?" Traviatta stuck out her bottom lip and folded her hands, feigning a look of innocence. After a moment's hesitation, Martina couldn't suppress a snicker and was gone down the alley herself, reappearing in a green shirt and brown trousers.
"Follow me." Traviatta murmured once all of the girls had changed. A mischievous grin on her lips, Traviatta turned to face the wall of the nearest building and backed up. Then, sprinting forward, she leapt up high and grabbed onto the nearest window and began to climb up. When she reached the top of the building, she was a little sweaty, but she was laughing as she looked down at her friends, who were gazing at her like they'd never seen her before.
"What are you doing up there, Traviatta?! It's forbidden to be on the rooftops!" Martina cried, nearly emptying the contents of her shopping basket on the street. "Ridicolo! It's only forbidden for us to get caught! Now, andare! There's a ladder over there you can use." She gestured towards a wooden ladder on the side of the building. "Alright, Travi, but if we get caught, we're saying it's your idea!" Isabella said as she rounded the building and started to slowly climb the wooden ladder. "How am I supposed to climb with this basket of…ohhh, merda!" Martina swore loudly as a few of the parcels in her basket tumbled out and fell to the foot of the ladder, to the loud laughter of Traviatta and Isabella, who'd already made it to the rooftop, the goods in both of their baskets completely unsettled.
Another trip up the ladder later, the girls followed Traviatta across the rooftops of Verona to a tower, usually used as a guard post, but this one, the girls could see, was empty. "There's no chance you expect us to climb that." Martina said, gazing up at the tower and nearly trembling; she was a very fearful person by nature and always prone to fretting, which made the close friendship between her and the tomboyish, energetic Traviatta an unusual thing indeed. There's a pulley over there to use to pull up our baskets. And anyway, si pollo grande, there's no guards at the top." Isabella said, rolling her eyes at her friend's fearful expression. Often referred to by Traviatta as her "Ombra", the vivacious Isabella was the only person Traviatta knew that could keep up with her, at least most of the time. "You could always stay down here and…oh, I don't know, wait for the guards to show up." Traviatta said, grinning. "That is, if the thieves don't get here." Isabella continued with a smirk. With a pout, Martina crossed her arms. "I still don't think it's safe." "Well, we're going up anyway, so…arrivederci!" Traviatta replied, putting her and Isabella's baskets on the board at the pulley's bottom. Both Isabella and Traviatta began their ascent up the tower, when Martina called to them as they were about ¼ of the way up. "Wait! Oh…! I'll go too!" Isabella and Traviatta caught each other's eye and Traviatta rolled hers. "But if I break a nail, you two stronzi will pay!" Giggling, the girls ascended the tower as the afternoon sun burned brightly above them.
Sitting at the top of the tower, the girls took out some pastries, cheeses, and other snacks to munch on. "Traviatta, I had no idea you and Isabella were so in shape." Martina said, wiping her forehead with a hand as she took a large sip of the wine that Traviatta had brought from home. "You have to admit climbing is fun!" "Fun for you, perhaps. I'm exhausted!"
"Well, I really need to burn off some energy! I feel like such a slug. Isa, want to race me to that chimney and back?" Traviatta asked Isabella, who was pacing the top of the tower, wine glass in hand. "I don't know…" She said, glancing down at the streets below, looking speculative. Suddenly, she jumped and nearly dropped her glass. "Isa! Are you alright?!" Traviatta asked, standing up quickly. "Is it guards?!" She continued, ready to pull out the dagger she had strapped to her waist if needed. "No, no! Nothing like that. Just…look down there!"
Traviatta glanced down to where Isabella was pointing. Standing at the entrance to an alleyway across from the tower stood three boys of about the girl's age. None of them were particularly good-looking, but one of them, a chestnut haired, lanky boy dressed in a blue shirt, was gazing at the tower where the girls were with intent eyes. Catching Traviatta's gaze, he stared at her for a second and then turned back to his friends. "Mio Dio!" Traviatta gasped, spinning around to face the girls "It's Rodrigo!" Traviatta cried, looking nervous. "You mean that boy who thinks you're his amore?" Martina asked, looking very calm compared to the other girls as she calmly tossed an olive into her mouth. "That's the one. Ugh, I really hope they don't come up here and bother us." "Too late. Here they come!" Isabella said, looking almost as fearful as Traviatta, who had begun to frantically load everything back into her basket and put it back on the pulley. "We have to get out of here! If he sees me…" "Enough chat! Start climbing!" Isabella interrupted, as she started her descent.
By the time the girls had made it to the ground and taken up their baskets, Traviatta had calmed down, at least somewhat. "Think we lost them?" She asked the girls as they hurried down the streets with no particular destination in mind. "I think we might have." Martina asked, glancing over her shoulder. "Dannazione! Here they come now." "Quick, act like you don't see them!" Isabella hissed, noticing the three boys just up ahead, standing near a merchant stall.
The three girls tried to pass the boys, chattering in Italian about a new dress of Martina's, when a voice spoke up from behind them. "Traviatta! Mi amore!" "Quick! Split up! I'll talk to you girls later!" Traviatta hastily muttered to the girls, who nodded and scattered down different side streets. Traviatta ran around a corner and climbed up a nearby building. She could hear the boys' voices behind her, probably looking for her.
Once she was on the roof, she sprinted forward, towards the Villa Sognitore, leaping gracefully over the rooftops as she went. "You can't run forever, my fiore! I will find you!" She heard Rodrigo call. Once she'd made it within a few meters or so of the Villa, she ducked into a nearby rooftop garden. "It looks like you'll have to wait a bit longer to win the heart of that one, amico." "That's not all I hope to win." Rodrigo said calmly, to the snickers of his friends. "Come; let's leave before the guards change shifts."
When Traviatta was sure that the guys had gone and their voices had faded, she stood up and swung her legs over the short wall of the rooftop garden and ducked her head back out. Her eyes were unadjusted to the burning orange and yellow glow of the sun and she shielded them, when she swore under her breath. "Merda! Papa said to be home by dusk!" With a last glance over her shoulder to make sure no guards had seen her and to make sure the boys' had finally gone, she dashed forward, over a few more rooftops, hopefully to make it home before dusk fell.
By the time she had ran up the path to the Villa, the sun had just set and the sky was slowly fading from the blue, orange, and gold colors of sunset to the lovely lavender color of early evening. She knocked three times on the Villa door, and the family maid, Catherine, opened the door. She was a wisp of a girl; very thin, with light brown hair, and dressed in a black dress with a white apron, like Traviatta's nursemaid, Chachi. "Mistress Sognitore. Your father is waiting for you in his office." Catherine said after bobbing a slight curtsy. "Thank you, Catherine. Would you be a darling and take these packages up to my room?" "Yes, Mistress." Catherine said softly and hurried up the grand spiral staircase and down one hallway, towards Traviatta's room, while Traviatta went down the other hallway, towards her father's office, after quickly changing out of her rebellious outfit and back into her dress.
She knocked on the door to his office, feeling slightly apprehensive, yet excited at the possibility her father was about to show her something very interesting. A very curious person by nature, Traviatta loved to try new things and see things that few others had a chance to see. So, the idea that she was seeing something special had piqued her interest.
"Papa? Are you in?" Traviatta called, opening the door slightly. "I am! I am! Do come in, my dear!" Opening the door all the way, Traviatta glanced around her father's office. It had a tall ceiling, with bookshelves on either side of the great wooden desk in the middle of the room. A black metal chandelier, lit with candles, hung from the ceiling, shining its light off the tall, diamond patterned windows behind the desk, which reflected back a smooth, black nighttime sky. Luigi Sognitore was standing at the bookshelf on the left side of the room, looking through a fat red book. He put it away when Traviatta entered and smiled at her. "Did you have a good time with the girls today?" He asked, sitting down at his desk chair as Traviatta sat in one of the cushioned chairs opposite. "We did! We had to run away from Rodrigo and his boys." Luigi looked up from the paper he was writing on. "Bene. Be sure to stay away from him. I don't trust him, or his leech of a father." "Of course, Papa." "Regardless, I bet you're wondering about why I called you here." Traviatta nodded, trying not to look too eager. Luigi smiled and stood up. "Over here." He said, going to stand in front of one of the bookshelves.
Traviatta stood at her father's shoulder and watched as he took books from the shelf and set them on their spines. When he had finished, he had set a good deal of the books on the shelf in the formation of what looked to Traviatta like a stone arrowhead. Suddenly, the bookshelf began to sink into the floor. When it had vanished into the ground, there was an opening in the wall, leading down a long stone hallway. Luigi laughed at Traviatta's confused expression. "Papa, what is…?" "It's time you knew what really happened to your mother, Traviatta." "What?! But, Papa, you said she died after I was born." "She died when you were about two years old, dearest. Follow me and I promise I'll explain everything."
Luigi headed down the sloped stone pathway and through the dark hallway, which opened onto a large round room with marble floors. An enormous statue of a man dressed in Middle Eastern style robes occupied most of the space in the room, with alcoves carved into the walls where statues about half the size of the man stood watch. These smaller statues were men dressed in similar robes and looking a lot like soldiers. "Papa?! What's going on? Who is this man? Where are we?" Traviatta asked with a slightly panicked note in her voice. "Where do I start?" Luigi sighed to himself, sitting at the base of the larger statue. Traviatta sat next to her father and put a hand on his. "Papa, you can tell me. I'll listen, I promise." Luigi looked at his daughter and sighed once more. Then, he began to speak.
"Traviatta, your mother's father, your grandfather, was named Machiavelli Visitone Da Firenze." "A Florentine?" "Yes. He was a judge in Florence for his entire life. He only moved here to Veronesi after your mother and I were married. Your grandfather was a very prestigious man in his day. He took to law school like a fish to water and graduated at the top of his class. He opened a law firm in Florence and soon enough he was known as the best lawyer in Florence, perhaps all of Italia. He was very wealthy and very happy. But he said often that the happiest time in his life was marrying your grandmother, Maria, and the birth of your mother, Florentina.
"When your mother was about 14, your grandfather had just finished an important trial and the plaintiff in the case was a notorious Florentine murderer. But, your grandfather did not know that this man had connections, with very bad people. He was walking home one night, when a man cornered your grandfather in an alleyway and threatened him, with a blade at his throat. If your grandfather did not find a way to get this murderer pardoned for his crimes, the assassin would kill your grandfather and his entire family. Your grandfather, being the cunning man that he was, renegotiated things with the assassin and agreed to pay the assassins guild a select sum of money each year for as long as he lived. But, your grandfather didn't know that there was a catch." "A catch? What did they do to him?!" Traviatta asked, her eyes burning darkly.
"The assassins had grown impatient with your grandfather and his inconsistent payments to protect our family. By the time your grandfather turned 80, your mother and I were married and you were a happy little toddler and the light of our lives." He said, squeezing his daughter's hands with a warm smile. But, it vanished quickly as he continued. "Your grandparents both loved you very much, but, on the day after your grandfather's birthday, these assassins, claiming to be a part of a group called the Rogue Brotherhood, showed up at your grandparent's villa, where you, your mother, myself, were staying to celebrate your grandfather's birthday. The assassins came in and explained that your grandfather's 'contract' with the Rogues had run out and that he could either come quietly or they would kill his entire family. Your mother…she stood up and confronted the assassins. She stood in front of your grandfather, grandmother, and me, with you in my arms. The assassins threatened to kill her if she did not step aside, but she did not move and told the assassins that if they wanted her family, they would have to take her life first." "Brava, Mama!" "There is more to the story than that, my darling." Luigi continued in a quieter voice. "The assassins seemed to be impressed with your mother's bravery and hurried away, promising to not harm your grandfather." Luigi took a deep, shaky breath and Traviatta could see the tears in his eyes as he continued. "That night your mother and I were asleep with the windows open. It was a beautiful night and the stars were just lovely, so we kept them open. I was almost asleep when I…I heard your mother cry out." Luigi paused to take another deep breath and Traviatta could feel her own eyes start to swell with tears; she knew what was coming next. "Those bastardos had stabbed your mother…sweet, beautiful Florentina…with a poison dagger right to her gentle heart. Then, they killed your grandfather and grandmother as well. I only managed to get away by jumping out a window with you in my arms and hiding just outside the city" He said bitterly, doing his best to squint back tears. "Oh! …Oh, Papa! My Papa…Papa…" Traviatta cried and flung herself into her father's arms, heavy sobs racking her small frame. For what felt like an eternity, she sobbed into her father's shoulder, the pain and anguish of all those years of not knowing what had happened to her mother all came out.
"I'm so…so very sorry for waiting this long to tell you." Luigi said when Traviatta's sobs had begun to slow and turned to trembles. "But, you deserve to know the truth. And, maybe now, you can join me." With flushed, tear stained cheeks, Traviatta slowly looked back up at her father, her eyes sparking with fury. "Papa, I want to find those men who killed Grandpa, and Grandma, and Mama. They will pay. I know not if I am strong enough to do it, but I will make them pay. They will suffer like they made her suffer. I will not rest until I have shed the blood of every last Rogue." Traviatta's hands balled into fists at her side, her body shaking with rage, her feet tapping with excitement. "I know you seek revenge, my dear. And, that is precisely why I have brought you here. Do you this statue behind us?" "Yes." "This man was the founder of a select group of assassins, called the Black Brotherhood. His name was Malik Al-Sayf and he worked alongside Altair Ibin-La'ahad, the founder of the White Brotherhood, for most of his life. You see, my child, Malik is our distant ancestor." "That's all very interesting, Papa. But what does it have to do with…?" "You see, Traviatta, all those times in your childhood when I was away from you, I was…out on missions or assigning them to other members of the Black Brotherhood. I'm their leader; Luigi Sognitore Da Veronesi. And today, my dearest daughter, you can begin your training."
~ So, what'd you think? :)
Chapter 2 should be up sometime soon.
Thanks for reading! Ciao!~