"…You're such a slowpoke, Fia!" The young man laughed, panting as he easily cleared the distance between the two rooftops, "I don't know why I bother with you!"
"Shut up, Lorenzo!" The hooded girl huffed, gasping as she nearly tripped again.
Deciding that caution was the better idea, the novice slowed her pace and doubled up, wheezing. She'd been running out on the sweltering rooftops for hours, part of her older brother's new 'training program'. After drawing a few more breaths into her hoarse lungs, she glanced up at said brother, who was approaching her with a large grin. Rolling her eyes, she simply went back to being pathetic.
"Honestly, Fia," Lorenzo sighed, appearing only slightly tired after the long sprint, "If you don't start manning-up, you're going to make a terrible Assassin."
"You probably haven't noticed, idiot," She panted, "But I'm not a man."
"True," Her brother nodded, stroking his chin and the thin goatee he was so proud of, "But I'm sure with a little more effort, you can feel almost as fit as one."
Fiametta snorted and plopped herself down on the roof's searing tiles, tilting her head back to stare at the infinite blue sky. She pulled her hood back, pushed her ebony hair away from her forehead, and allowed her tense body to relax.
Lorenzo watched with distaste. After a few moments, he shifted his weight and crossed his arms, frowning down at the form of his crippled sister.
"How long do you plan to stay like that?" He asked flatly.
"You'd better return to Tiber Island without me." She replied simply, not giving her brother a second thought.
He nodded, "Alright, but I'll be close by if you need me."
Fia used her precious energy to send him a curious eyebrow raise, "And why would I need you so suddenly?"
Lorenzo shrugged, "You may not- but I still have to pick up a message for Master Machiavelli, and the pigeon coop is near here."
"You pick up messages for Master Machiavelli?" Fia exclaimed with wide eyes and a dropped jaw, "Do you deliver them to him in person?" She had long idolized the author/Assassin, and found it hard to believe her brother had personal contact with him. "You're pulling my leg!"
"Am not," Lorenzo smiled, pulling his hood mischievously over his eyes as he set off, "See you, little sister."
Fiametta huffed irritably and sat up. She'd never get any peace with that man.
After taking a few extra moments to rest, she decided it'd be best to start her journey to Tiber Island, if she wanted to make it there before sunset. However she also elected to take the streets home. She related bitterly as she slid down a nearby ladder that she never wanted to see another rooftop again.
Fia edged about nervously as a group of Borgia soldiers passed her, giving her a dark stare. Absently, she smoothed the material of her novice robes and pulled the rim of the fabric lower over her legs. It'd only been recently she'd made the change from wearing dresses to pants, and often Master Ezio found it better she remain undercover. She recalled how he had grinned at her and remarked how she had the face of a noblewoman- enough so to fool the Templars. It wasn't uncommon for her to don an average dress and walk through Roma, picking up tidbits of information. Although that just made the Assassin robes more awkward- she became quite nervous whenever she passed a patrol…
Tired as she was, Fiametta nearly didn't notice when her heavily-sore foot splashed in an abnormal looking puddle. Pausing, she bent down warily to examine what had happened- she'd stepped in manure before, and she had no interest in doing so again. However, this didn't seem to be any puddle of the solid sort- in fact, the liquid seemed quite congealed, and red in color. Wine, perhaps?
Fia ran a gloved finger over it. As she did so, she noticed a metallic smell wafting from the puddle. Tensing, she realized it was probably blood. With narrow eyes, she noted that the puddle wasn't just that- there seemed to be a trail of blood winding around the street and leading around a corner. Cautiously, she began to follow it.
Now and then, she would notice a tattered piece of clothing along the track. This only worried her further- by the time she had nearly reached the end, she encountered several bloody handprints on the stones of the nearest building. At that point she wasn't certain she wanted to reach the trail's conclusion.
However, curiosity compelled her to continue- and so she did. But when she finally discovered the source of the crimson fluid, dread and horror took hold.
Propped up weakly against the wall lay the body of a young man. He looked to be just over sixteen, not yet an adult, but not a child. She could tell from his features, however mangled, that he was not Italian- blonde hair, braided, pale skin- and he was quite a tall man. But she had little time to spend looking over these details.
His entire lower jaw was smothered in blood, stemming from his nose. The appendage was brutally twisted; Fia cringed just looking at it. His forehead was sliced like carrots in a soup, although none of it seemed lasting except the gash above his right eye.
Finally, his left leg was skewered on an arrow barb, and blood was calmly pooled onto the floor around it. From the stiffness of his bloodied clothes, Fia could tell he had been sitting for some time.
Fearfully, the novice gulped and scurried over to him, taking his pulse with shaking fingers. She sighed in relief- he was alive, but barely. Her mind numbed when she realized she had no idea what to do next: here she had found the mutilated body of a citizen, and she hadn't a clue how to take care of him. Heart racing, she tried the first idea that surfaced:
"L-Lorenzo!" She called, her voice shaking. She climbed to her feet and cupped her hands around her mouth, trying to throw the sound of her voice: "Lorenzo!" Fia could only pray her brother would arrive in time.
A small cough drew her attention and panicked blue eyes fastened on the man's gored face. She watched as his grey orbs squinted open, and he tried to speak:
"H-hvrem…?" he croaked, spitting more blood onto his shirt. Fia found it hard to believe there was any left in his body, "hvrem er du…?"
The novice bit her lip, but drew closer to the wounded foreigner. She kneeled beside him and grasped his broad shoulders with her hands.
"Listen," she began shakily, "I don't know who you are, or where you're from, but you need to stay awake!" She didn't fully understand why this was important, but it was the only instructions she had received on this type of situation. She swallowed, "Don't pass out on me!"
His eyelids fluttered and a smile slowly broke out on his beaten features. Incomprehension was evident in his eyes.
"…En engel…?" he whispered as his glassy vision took in her face- she barely heard him, "…Er du en engel…?"
It was hopeless. She couldn't understand a word he muttered- she couldn't even recognize the language. Panic sparked within her as she watched his eyes beginning to roll and his shoulders relax in her grip.
"H-Hey!" She yelled, shaking him, "If you go to sleep again, you won't wake up!"
"Fia?" Relief flooded the novice as she recognized her brother's voice behind her, "What's wrong? Who—My God…"
She turned and watched Lorenzo's eyes widen at the gory scene.
"Lorenzo, you've gotta help me," She stammered, "I-I don't know what to do. I was just walking home a-and I just…" She paused, turning back to the body, "Just…found him…" she finished weakly.
"Who is he?" Lorenzo asked as he quickly moved to her side, taking the man's pulse and temperature.
Fia shook her head, biting her lip, "I don't know," she replied, "He doesn't even speak Italian!"
"…Hvad?" The stranger coughed, stirring slowly as he became more aware of Lorenzo's presence, "Hvad der sker…?"
Lorenzo groaned, "You're right- I can't understand him at all."
"Well what do we do with him?" Fia cried, "I don't think he's got much time left!"
"We'll take him with us," Lorenzo reasoned calmly, "Master will know what to do."
"Hej…" The foreigner said, struggling faintly as Lorenzo hoisted him up, "Hvad laver du?"
"Take his other arm, Fia," Lorenzo instructed, shifting the stranger's weight on his back, "We'll lead him through the alleys. Tiber Island isn't that far from here."
"Okay," Fia gulped, and the two began carrying/dragging the paralyzed man towards their hideout. "What should I do if he passes out again?"
"There's not much you can do," Lorenzo grunted, "Try to keep him awake as long as you can- if he slips under, we won't be able to bring him back."
"So basically, he'll die?" Fia asked in horror.
"Less talking, more carrying, sister!" Lorenzo snapped.
"Hej!" The man panted, his breath ragged from the exertion of staying conscious, "Lad mig ga! Hjaep!"
"Yeah, yeah," Lorenzo muttered, "Good afternoon to you, too."
"At least it means he isn't dead," Fiametta pointed out kindly.
After several minutes of trudging and the stranger's incoherent babbling, the towers of the hideout were in sight. All that was left was to make it across the street and through the door. It was at this time the injured man began to give up his struggle.
"Lorenzo?" Fia huffed as they neared the door, "He's not doing so well…"
"We're almost there, Fia," Lorenzo replied, "Master will know what to do- everything is going to be fine."
Upon entering the hideout, they were greeted by Silvestro, another Assassin. Despite only meeting him a week ago, the man was eager to help the siblings and aided them in their effort to carry the man to the center room.
"Fia, go get Ezio!" Lorenzo said loudly as they cleared off the table for immediate operation. Fiametta nodded violently and rocketed down the halls, still scarred from discovering the battered body.
She found Sir Ezio in the meeting room with his sister, Miss Claudia. After bursting into the room and interrupted whatever important conversation was taking place therein, Fiametta collapsed onto the ground, wheezing.
"Master!" She panted, "Lorenzo needs you in the main room right away!"
At first it was amusement that played in the Master Assassin's eyes. But when he saw his student's panic stricken face, he sobered up.
"I am coming," he said, then turned to his sister. "Claudia, we shall resume this later."
"Of course," she nodded and allowed him to pass as he strode swiftly down the hall, offering Fiametta a hand up as he went. She took it graciously and joined him on the way to the center room. She had to jog to keep up, but most of her was in awe to be accompanying someone as esteemed as Master Ezio Auditore. Lorenzo often teased her for having too many heroes, but Fia didn't see the problem with that.
When they arrived in the central room of the hideout, Lorenzo rushed them, immensely relieved to find his master.
"Master," He said breathlessly, bowing. Then he proceeded to lead the Assassin to where the stranger was spread out on a table, "We've managed to move him to a stable area, but he's lost a lot of blood and-" Ezio silenced him.
"Don't worry," He said clearly, placing a hand on the young trainee's shoulder, "You've done a good job, my student. I'll take it from here, but I made yet require more of your help."
Lorenzo nodded firmly, and spoke; "We've already taken out the medical supplies-"
"Good," Ezio said, "There is a doctor near the hideout- he knows of our Order. Bring him here, quickly."
"Yes, master." And with that Lorenzo departed swiftly.
Ezio and Fiametta approached the table, where Silvestro was working on the man's face with a damp cloth. Fia was quite concerned at the amount of red pigment that stained the rag already.
"Master," Silvestro greeted him with a bow of the head, "As you can see, the boy is not in the best of conditions."
"Do you have any idea who he is?" Ezio asked.
Silvestro shrugged faintly and gestured to the younger novice, "Ask Fiametta- she found him."
Ezio turned to her, determined.
"Where did you find him?"
"In an alley," Fia gulped, "I found him by…" She gulped, pushing down the nausea of the disturbing memory, "…following a trail of his own blood."
"Was he alone?"
"Yes," She replied solemnly.
With the official inquiry over, her master's eyes softened.
"You have never seen something like this before, have you, Fia?" He phrased the question as a statement. The young novice made no reply. "Are you-"
"I'm fine," Fia cut in, looking away. Ezio decided not to press the matter. Time was of the essence, and as soon as Lorenzo returned with the alarmed-looking doctor, they began the battle to save the boy's life.