It was a month and a half later. Most at the hideout had forgotten about Ravenna's arrival at the hideout. Everyone except Dragone and Ezio. Machiavelli might still have remembered, but he showed no signs of bringing it up.

The time since was uneventful, the Borgia were strangely quiet in activity. As if Cesare was waiting for them to let their guard down so that he could attack. But just because there was less to do then, didn't mean the recruits got much more time off. No, they were sent off on more missions in that month. But it was a couple weeks after Ezio had sent two recruits off that he received word of their mission.

He felt a chill run up his spine as he opened the message out on the rooftops.

"I'm sorry to report that our mission was a failure. The man we were suppost to protect was with the enemy to begin with and turned on us. I am the last surviving and I am returning to the hideout today with Luca's body. I'm terribly sorry I've failed you. That I fail my brother in arms.
~Ciro"

He returned to the hideout immediantly. When Machiavelli saw him rush in, he was about to ask what was wrong but Ezio had already slapped the note into his hand before going upstairs. It didn't take a genius that Ezio was mad about the failure. But it took reading the note to figure out that he was so upset over it.

Luca was a lively man, he became close friends with everyone and was very skillful and trustworthy. Dispite the mistakes he's made, he was dependable. But now he was gone. Dead. And they would mourn him tonight.

Everyone stood silent that night as they carried their friend, their brother, down into the tunnels. Soon they turned and came to a chamber, a larger place with a hole at the top where moonlight came shimmering inside at midnight. While some lit candles, Ezio and his first full fledged assassin, Annetta, laid him down on the stone table. It was sort of a table. There was a dip in the stone which they prepared for the funeral by placing wood across the bottom.

"Rest in piece, brother." Annetta whispered as she turned away to sit on the floor. Ezio remained, staring at the body with a heavy heart. He was far too young to of been killed.

"Your sacrific will not be in vein." He told him before walking up to Machiavelli. "He is ready. And we should get this over with."

"Are you going to cry?" Machiavelli asked, although he was trying to be funny about it, there was a little underlying consern.

Ezio just shook his head, even though he feared that he just might. Death was never funny. Even if it wasn't someone you knew very well, it was depressing. And still, he knew Luca. He knew the man and Luca was so open and trusting. It was depressing to see him dead.

"Then we should go on." Machiavelli told him as he picked up one of the candles that was previously lit before laying it down on the side, the flames able to lap at the wood before it caught. Everyone only watched in silent mourning as they burned Luca's body. They did not say a word as they took his ashes and hid them away in a hollowed brick in the wall.

And nobody spoke as they walked through the tunnels, back to the hideout.

When they returned, the viger was broken as Ciro came in through the front door. He was battered, clearly having taken a beating. And loosely in his hold was a letter.

"What happened to you?" Ezio asked, worried.

Ciro cracked a smile, stretching a long old scar on his cheek. "Killed a messanger. He was delivering this."

He handed it to Ezio and Ezio passed it over to Machiavelli. The younger opened it and begun to read it while Ezio looked over his shoulder. At first, they were certain that this "trouble maker" and "murder" was just Ezio and that it wasn't any new information. But this changed as they read the discription. "A dark shadow with an identity hidden under a mascurade mask." That wasn't Ezio. He wore white and stuck out like a sore thumb, a sore thumb that guards apparently are unaware of until the last moment, nor did he were a mask. The hood was enough.

"What are you thinking, Niccolo?" Ezio asked shortly after the letter was put away on the desk and Machiavelli stood in deep thought.

Hand on his chin, he seemed at first to not of heard him, but looked up with awareness. "Maybe we could find this person. See who they work, and if maybe they could be a good part of our cause."

"If you are looking to me to hunt this spector down, then it will have to wait for a few days." Before Machiavelli could ask, Ezio explained. "We lost a man all too resently. One who was very liked between all of our recruits. If we rushed into finding this person, they might not be as willing, maybe think that they are a replacement of Luca. Give them a few days to recover, and then I will begin my search."

"If you think it would be best, then it is your choice." Machiavelli agreed. "I understand."

"Bene." Ezio responded.