Wow! I didn't think this story would be as popular as it has become! In just one day, it has had four views, ten favorites and thirteen followers! I am so stoked. Now I see who's everyone's favorite assassin is. *Laughs* I am glad everyone is enjoying this. Please, do not hesitate to hit that button at the bottom and let me know what you think. *Hugs for everyone* With you guys and gals, I would never keep doing this.
Desmond head swam with messed up thoughts and half formed ideas as he came back, again, to the world of the living. He at least knew where he was at this time. He was now lying in a bed in the Villa Auditore in the heart of Monteriggioni. The year was something that escaped him. It had to be shortly after Ezio, Maria, and Claudia fled Florence as the hunt for the remaining Auditore family members continued. He had just killed Uberto Alberti, and the year? He put the heel of his hand against his cool forehead, and screwed his eyes shut.
Damn, he should know this. 14…Shit! 1476! The year was 1476 and that was the year everything changed for Ezio. That was when he began his training as an assassin. He had been shoved, by who knows what, all the way back to 1476, and for what? He had no clue as to why he was here.
Opening his eyes, and looking around, he felt a panic attack coming on. He shouldn't be here. This was not his time. It had to be some elaborate dream concocted by his mind to show him that everything was alright. That he would be fine in the afterlife. That…that… and what he was thinking wasn't even making sense.
Taking a few deep breaths. In through the nose, and out through the mouth. In with the good, and out with the bad, he thought to himself as he did the breathing like Lucy had showed him when the visions from the Aminus were becoming too much for him to take. Center yourself and find who you are amidst the sea of memories that raged in his mind. He was Desmond Miles, bartender, and now, Assassin. He was destined to save the world, or to end it. He was humanities' last hope to stop Juno and her corruption. He was… and he looked around, sitting in a villa in the middle of Italy that was owned by his ancestors. Yeah, he was definitely losing his mind.
"Ah I see you have come back to us, signore."
Swiveling his head, he watched Ezio walk into the room, half cape fluttering behind him, feet barely making a sound on the marble flooring. How Desmond wished he could walk with that much grace. He was a lumbering ox compared to the fluid movements of the Italian.
"Ye…yeah. Thank you for helping me." He took himself from the bed, but grabbed the bedpost as his head grew light from standing too quickly.
"Maybe you should lie down once more. You still do not look well." Ezio took a step forward, but Desmond held up a hand.
"I'm fine. Really. Just stood too fast is all that happened." That and the lack of food would make any man weak. He had burned up the last of his strength in the fight. You know, the one he should have stayed out of, but that mind set on helping someone who was in trouble came into play and he could not help but try and save them.
Ezio stood a few feet away, guarded brown eyes watching him, and Desmond knew what was going on in the mind of the younger man. He was trying to figure out if he was friend of foe. He had been betrayed by a man that he thought was a family friend. Now, he was wary of anyone. Desmond knew it would be a few years till until the Italian would begin to trust fully again.
"Would you like something to eat? It is the least I can do for you helping with Vieri."
Oh the mention of food was enough to set off the vicious beast that resided in his stomach at that time. Ezio must have heard the sound, because the young Florentine noble chuckled. "I take it that you are hungry. Come, I will make sure you are fed."
"Thanks." Desmond released the bedpost and followed behind Ezio, taking care not to bump into anything on his way through the villa. It looked just the same as his memories of this place. No, they were the lasting memories of the man in front of him. They were not his, or were they now? He could never decide. Memories are what you remember seeing, and doing. He had relived so many parts of Ezio's actual life that could they be classified as his own now?
He pressed the questions down for now. That was something he could dwell on at a later time, but right now, he had to get his head in the game, find out what happened to send him here, and for him get back to where he was supposed to be.
*/*/*/*/*/*
Ezio glanced over his shoulder at the man behind him. There was something… different about the way the man moved, walked, talked that made him think that this man was very different than any person he would ever meet. As they entered the kitchen area, he gestured to the small table that was in the corner. Mario was stirring something in a large pot, and upon their entrance, turned his head.
"Ah I see our guest has awaken, Nepote." Mario gave him a lopsided grin. Then he looked at the man that had taken a seat. "Welcome to Monteriggioni. I am Mario Auditore, and this is my nephew, Ezio. I want to thank you for your assistance in that small skirmish yesterday."
The other man rubbed the back of his neck. "It was not a problem. I don't like to see people get hurt."
Ezio leaned against the cold stone of the cooking oven. "What is your name? That way we will not have to keep addressing you as signore."
That got a chuckle out of him. "Miles."
"Miles." Ezio tested out the name, and nodded. "Thank you once more for your help." He had a feeling that was not his full name, but it would do for now. Maybe they both had to learn to trust each other before he would learn who this man really was.
Mario ladled whatever he was cooking into a bowl, and sat it in front of Miles. "This should give you the pick me up you need. It looks as if you have not a decent meal in some time."
Something of a shadow passed the man's face. "You could say that." A ghost of a blush crossed Miles' cheeks as he rubbed the back of his short cropped head. "Thank you."
"Then eat. We will check on you in a bit." Mario turned on his heels. "Come Nepote, let our guest eat in peace and we shall talk more once he has a full belly."
Ezio nodded and followed behind his uncle until they came to his study. "You want to say something, do you not?" He leaned against the desk and watched his uncle.
Mario nodded and began to pace the floor. "I would like you find out more about this man. It is not that I do not trust him. I believe, from the way he fights and the blade he had on him," and he pointed to the weapon on his desk, "that he may be an Assassin like yourself."
He had not even thought about that. He had been curious on the movements of Miles in the fight, as he had never seen anyone move in the way he had in the fight. "You believe he may be an assassin?" Mario nodded. "Then why have you not heard of him?"
That got the older man to laugh. "Oh Ezio, you have much to learn. The Assassins are everywhere! Not just here in Italy, but all over the known world. I could not even begin to tell you half of the assassins. That would have been Giovanni. He always had a head for remembering things that I could not."
At mention of his father's name, his stomach twisted and regret began to set in. He should have been faster, and then they would still be here with him. "Uncle, do you think I could have saved them?" He looked down at the floor.
"Huh?" Mario turned his attention to him.
"My father and brothers. Do you think I ever had a chance to save them?" Ezio closed his eyes and felt the tears come, but he had to be strong. He had to be strong for Claudia and his mother. They needed him. He was all they had, except for Mario. They were the last of the family.
"Ezio, they were betrayed. We all were, but they will not be forgotten. If Giovanni had not seen what was to come, how could you have? You are but a boy still and not a well-trained one at that." Mario was trying to make him feel better, but it was not helping.
He should have been faster, stronger. He should have been able to save them. Just the thought of his family hanging there in the gallows made him want to throw up. To scream at the injustice that had been done to the Auditore family and fell the ones responsible, but he would make sure the ones that had brought this would pay. If he had to go to the ends of the world, he would.
"Uncle, can you train me more? That way I can be prepared for anything that comes my way. Do not want to fail again." Ezio stood up straight and held his head high. He would honor their memories. Let them keep him strong in his hour of need.
Mario just nodded. "I will see to it, but I believe you should go check on Miles. Make sure he does not need anything else. Maybe take him on a tour of the village."
Ezio knew what he wanted. "You would like me to befriend him, and find out what he is doing here?"
The laugh once more. "You are a smart boy, Nepote. I know you will do well." And with that, Mario exited out of the study from the side door, leaving him there alone with his thoughts.
*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*
Desmond pushed the now empty bowl across the table. He would have washed it, but there was no running water, and it would seem strange he knew where everything was when this should have been his first time here. Well if you want to get technical, this was his first time here, in this time, and being in his own body and mind. So, yeah, this was a first for him.
His eyes took in every nook and cranny of the large kitchen area. He knew what it looked like from his time as Ezio, but not as Desmond. It was still unsettling to know that he was here, in the past, in the presence of his ancestor. The one that he had followed, learned what he knew from. If the others knew what he was doing now, they would really think he was insane. Maybe, he was sent here by some unknown force to learn more. To combat the forces that was to come, or had been unleashed in his time.
But that was a ways off. He could maybe take a small break from that. Maybe, just maybe, relax. Not be so wound like he was all the time. Come on, the release of Juno was not going to happen for another; he did the quick math, five hundred and thirty-six years. Give or take a few months.
Taking to his feet, he stretched and felt a few things pull and pop. A sigh escaped him, and a content smile overtook his face. His belly was full, and he was relatively safe.
"I see that you are done."
Desmond nearly jumped out of his skin as he heard Ezio's voice from behind him. Spinning around, he looked at the smirk on the younger man's face. "Yeah, thank you for the food."
"You do not have to keep thanking me, Miles. It was the least I could do for you helping me protect the last of my family. I feel I still owe you for your sacrifice." The Italian inclined his head.
Desmond waved him off. "No, you don't owe me anything, Ezio. I am just glad in could help, but I do have a question."
"Ask, and I will try and answer it." Ezio stood there, arms at his side.
"My blade. Do you know where it is?" It was the only thing that he had not seen when he woke up. He did not want to lose the only protection he had in this day and age. Hell, he knew that there were men out there that would lay open his throat just in the hopes that he had something they could use or sell.
Ezio pulled it out of the pouch at his side. "Do you mean this?" He held it out and Desmond took it.
Placing it back on his left wrist, and tightened it down, he felt a little better. The blade had become part of him, like breathing, in such a short time that any small absences of the blade made him feel different. "Thank you once more."
"Again, you do not have to keep thanking me." A small chuckle came from him. "Come. I will show you around the village. Maybe you can get yourself some different clothing. I have never seen clothing such as what you are wearing now."
Looking down at his white t-shirt, dark blue jeans, and white running shoes, he could see how they would be strange to Ezio. His hoodie was back in the room he woke up in, in his bag. It had become too hot yesterday to keep it on. Well to him, the clothing and robes that Ezio wore would be strange to him of he had not seen them before. "They are normal where I'm from, but I guess I can see why you'd say that."
Turning on the heels of his boots, Ezio began to walk out of the room, with Desmond right behind him. "What would you like to see first, Miles?"
Desmond shrugged. "I don't care. I'm not that picky. It's kind of nice to just take a walk and not have everyone yelling at me to get back inside."
Ezio looked over his shoulder at him, eyebrow peaked and he wanted to do a face palm. He had to open his mouth. Trying to think of something, anything on the fly was hard, so he kind of went with a half-truth. "My parents were over protective and didn't let me out much. Thought everyone was out to kill them. I ran away when I was younger."
It must have worked, because Ezio nodded. "My family was not that way. I was allowed to all over Firenze at my leisure."
Desmond, in two strides, was at the side of Ezio. "Must have been nice. I wasn't allowed to leave the farm for any reason. I finally got sick of it and ran. Never looked back." That was the complete truth. He had never looked back once he took off. Yeah, he had thought about his mother, and how she was doing, but never about his father. It wasn't until this whole mess with Abstergo started that William's name even passed through his brain. "Maybe one day I might go back and see my mom, but it won't be any time soon."
"Where are you from? If I may ask?" They turned at the door and made their way around the side of the villa.
"Far from here." He told cryptically. Christopher Columbus had already set out and landed in the Caribbean, but it would not be for another hundred years that the white folk would begin to settle on the continent that he called home. The Assassins would not be there until the early part of the 1700's. "I have no idea how to get home."
Stopping near a rather large tree that grew behind the villa, Ezio sat on the stone bench. "How did you get here?"
That was something he could say honestly. "I don't know. I woke up here yesterday with no memories on how I got here." He could only remember touching the orb, the smell of burning flesh, the feel of falling, and then waking up on the coast. He shook his head and leaned against the tree, wishing for his hoodie and the deep hood. That way Ezio could not see the confusion on his face.
"I have one more question." Ezio looked at him.
When did he begin to ask question about everything? All Desmond could remember was he would kill first then ask questions later. Mentally snapping his fingers, he sighed. No, that was the old Altair, before Solomon's Temple and the hunt for the Templar leaders. Ezio was the one that questioned everything. Damn. "Go head."
"Are you an assassin?" The Italian asked.
"Yeah, I guess you could call me that now." Desmond pushed off the tree. "Trained since I was little, but ran from it when I was sixteen. Went back to my training later when I was kind of found by the Templars."
Ezio nodded. "I see. Maybe you can help me then."
His eyes about came out of his head. The great Ezio Auditore was asking for his help?! This was the man that he learned from, but right now, he didn't know really the first thing about the Assassins. Reining himself in from shock, Desmond cleared his throat. "Sure." He squeaked, and cleared his throat. "Sure. I guess I could do that. I mean, I'm kind of stuck here. Might as well give myself something to do."
Ezio stood up, a wide smile plastered on his face. "Excellent! We can begin training in the morning!"
Training?! In the morning?! What the hell had he got himself into?
Poor, poor Desmond! He seems to just be getting sucked into all the bullshit everywhere he goes! I am going to be going to weekly updates on my stories, that way I don't get burned out like I have in the past. Again, thank you for liking the story people.