There stood Ezio and that man he was speaking with. He asked calmly, "Is she going to stay?"

She barely listened as her mind focused on Gennaro. She should ahve known. She hadn't seen him in months, why did she assume he was save and with Dragone? Until finally, she was starting to feel sick, like she'd throw up right now. But she kept forcing it back down.

"Ravenna? Did you listen? You cannot stay."

She blinked. Realizing that she had tuned everyone out, she was lucky she caught that last sentence. "I understand." She sighed. "You do not think I will be able to show as much use as your recruits. But do not think this will be the last you will see me."

With this, Ravenna turned away, and walked out of the hideout with head held high. She'd at least try to prove them wrong, and she'd keep her promise. And once she had left the Tiber Island, she broke into a run, wanting to get as far away from that place as she could. When she was far enough, she hid inside the abandon house she claimed as her home and begun to plan. No. That would not be the last they've seen or heard of her.


Dragone stared at the door as Ravenna walked out. His heart wretched a moment with both guilt and worry. Normally he could trust she would be safe on her own, but now she was without use of one eye, he had little faith that she'd be able to defend herself.

"I am sorry. I know she means a lot to you." Ezio apologized. His look showed of sincerity.

But the younger shook his head and looked at him with stormy eyes. "There is nothing to be sorry about. I'm glad you made this choice."

"You do not trust your own sister's skills?" His mentor asked crossing his arms.

Dragone shook his head. "No. I know she is not a child, but she is still my baby sister. And now that she has lost that eye, I do not think she'll be able to defend herself should she get into a fight."

"You don't actually need the left side except for seeing your targets and attacks." Ezio pointed out. "Why do you think the hidden blade is one the left arm? To free the right."

"I know." Dragone replied. "But she's not... right handed." He sighed. "She writes with the devils hand and has favored using it over the right. I'm sure it would be awkward for her to be able to fight now because she has no use of the same eye."

Machiavelli was about to say something, but Dragone cut him off.

"My father, he's tried to make her right handed, but she alway refused to do as asked. She always wrote sloppy and slowly. She always made mistakes when she'd try using a kitchen knife, and would always be more adapted to using her left side." He shook his head. "If she can not see out of that eye, she would never be able to use a hidden blade properly and comfortably."

"How long has it been like this?" Machiavelli finally asked.

"Ever since she was a baby. I always thought she would grow out of it, but she never had." He answered.

Ezio laughed.

"What's so funny?" Dragone glared.

Chuckling now, the older rubbed his forehead a moment before explaining, "The answer is obvious. Your father has tried to make her use her right hand."

"Yes but-."

"So, she'll have to either tilt learn to swivel her head like an owl, or adjust to fighting right handed. She can still use that hand for anything else, but she will need to get used to fighting like the rest of us."

"But you just sent her away! Now she will not be able to join us!" He hissed, then turned and stormed off. Grumbling curses as her left the room, a couple recruits watched as he vanished up the staircase. They didn't know he punched a wall, nor that he stabbed the nightstand with his dagger. It was late when Ezio finally came up to his room.

The recruits usually shared rooms, and because about half of the people that joined were girls, there were only two rooms in use with six beds. Dragone made his space in the bed at the end of the room. Underneath each bed was a trunk where they could keep their equipment and perosnal belongings.

Dragone was laying face down on his bed, gripping the pillow as he didn't move. Ezio just sat on the edge of the bed and carefully tapped his shoulder to get his attention, causious of the possiblity of getting a dagger to his throat. He was surprised when he heard a groan instead of a string of curses; consitering Dragone was notorious for his temper.

"Go away."

"I just want to talk." Ezio told him, not moving from his seat on the bed.

He could hear the black haired boy sigh into the pillow. "No."

"Per favore, I just want to talk."

"Can't you take a hint?" Dragone grumbled, still not pulling his face form the pillow, it distorted his voice so it was much harder to make out the words.

Ezio took a heavy was very little chance that he'd get him to look up. But he knew that Dragone would never block anyone out. "I am not leaving, bambino."

Dragone lifted his forearm enough so he could flip Ezio off. Though the older didn't take any offence to it, he knew he said the wrong thing, and he knew he offended him. Hell, he could be called every insult and still not be offended by it, he knew he deserved it.

"I'm not a child, stronzo." Dragone grunted.

"Then maybe you should not be behaving as such." Ezio pointed out. But Dragone didn't look up still. He'd have to deal with it and just say what he was going to say. "Look. I know said some things that insulted you. And I know I should not have. What I had said was rude and foolish. And I am sorry I said it."

He could see Dragone's shoulder twitch underneath his night shirt.

"But it is your choice to accept my appology or not." He added as he stood from the bed. "I will not make you do anything." Then he turned to leave the room.

"Maestro?"

He was almost to the door when Dragone said this, he turned to see the younger sitting on his bed now, hugging his knees as he was staring up at him. "I shouldn't have treated you with such disrespect, I'm sorry."

Ezio smiled calmly. "Then let's leave that one insodent in the past where it belongs." Then he left.

As he turned away form the door, he came face to face with Machiavelli.

"So you apologized." Machiavelli concluded.

"And you eavesdropped." Ezio retorted.

"Only to make sure that neither one of you two would assualt the other in a fit of rage." The younger answered. "Think about it. You and that boy are more alike then either of you will give credit for. Just as stubborn and so easily provoked."

Ezio looked down. "Maybe you are right. But I do not see how we could be. If he had gone through the same I had then maybe-."

"He pretty much has in some ways." Machiavelli cut in. "Like you, his father was murdered. He devoted himself to protecting his little siblings like you with Claudia."

"He never told me this." Ezio gave him a suspitious look. "How do you know?"

"It is a long story. But he trusted me at the time enough to tell me his doubts and his fears. And if he weren't as thick headed as he is, then maybe he would realize he would be better off telling you these things."

"This night seems to of been full of surprises." Ezio stated. "Good night." He then turned and left.