The first rays of dawn crept over Florence's eastern wall, a few stray clouds from the storm that had wreaked havoc on the countryside casting long shadows as the sun rose higher into the morning sky. The view was awash with the brightest reds and oranges the citizens had seen. Some stood amazed by the hues that danced amongst the silver lined clouds while others still shook their heads in abhorrence of the color; to them it was an omen that evil once more had stricken their beloved Firenze. To the few who walked the stone streets in the city's central San Giovanni District and took note of the fiery sky, their fears of the omen came to fruition.
Cries of guards scattering to the scene of a brutal murder echoed through the alley ways as they made for the Santa Maria del Fiore. The vicar general, Father Jean-Ambrose III, found the once great wooden cross that had stood sentient just beyond the alter in a pile of still smoldering ash, nothing stood of the gift that had been bestowed to him by the Holy See upon his appointment to Santa Maria del Fiore. Yet that had not been why he had called the guard's attention so early into their shift, he could have cared less for the eye sore.
It had been what he had found by the door of the church that had struck panic into his heart. His eyes had found a gruesome sight this morning as he followed the trail of clues that consisted of a shattered oil burner and a small pool of blood near the ash in front of the church. There, on the floor lay his assistant priest awash in a sticky, crimson substance this morning just as the woman had declared. His eyes, white with death's sheen and wide in terror, his mouth agape in shock, his body not more than a stiff shadow of its former self.
The black clad doctore stood, head lowered as he removed his first and second finger away from the man's neck and crossed himself. "I...am so sorry, Father. God has indeed taken him from this life to the next," he said somberly.
"Blessed Mary, who would commit such a horrid act? Surely their soul will burn for all eternity in the pit of hell," Ambrose hissed. This assignment by the Pope had its advantages to be sure, but it had also proven to be more of a thorn in his career as a member of the clergy. It happened like clockwork, first it was a cardinal five years ago, then a bishop three years after followed by several priests. Granted he had known the men and knew them to be less than honest during confession about their hypocrisy, but the poor man who had just arrived to the city was an honest man, a good man and a welcomed addition to the church. It had been such a nice change to see a man who practiced what he had preached, the vicar thought. "Was it at least a painless death?" he asked.
The doctore nodded, "Indeed. It was a clean cut, through the jaw and into what appears to be his brain. He died almost instantaneously, I am sure."
"Thank the Heavenly Father then," Ambrose said as he made the sign of the cross, "Please, take his body with you, clean it up and prepare it. I will make arrangements for him to be picked up later today," he sighed. He was supposed to have only been in the city for a short time to check up on things, not have to plan a mass for a fallen brother.
"Father, if it is not too bold to ask, do you think it is the same person who has struck this church before?" the doctore asked.
Ambrose nodded, "The only difference is there is no scripture tied around his corpse." The others all had a single passage of scripture from Romans which said, 'And thinkest thou this, O man, that judgest them who do such things, and doest the same, that thou shalt escape judgment from God?'
The doctore nodded, bowing shortly as he waved his two assistants over, "Qui, take him to the cart. Attento ora," he said as the men, impressive in height and musculature, picked the limp body up with no issue. As they did, a slip of paper fell to the floor from the priest's pocket which held another passage from the book of Romans, 'Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written "Vengeance is mine, I will repay says the Lord". I am here. Send him, send the Assassin.' The doctore was quick to pocket the note.
One of the men, the taller of the two, leaned in close to the doctore and whispered, "Does that confirm that it was her?"
The doctore nodded, careful to speak in hushed tones, "Moltissimo, when we are finished return to il mentore and speak of what has transpired. If ever there was a time we needed the boy, it is now." He glanced behind him, eyes on the guard as they spoke to Father Ambrose and for a split moment he thought he saw a dark shadow pass behind them. A female, it appeared, with a dark smile painted on her blood stained face, gaze heavy as she watched the body of the priest roll away.
She was resigned to what lay ahead of her now. Punishment was sure to follow, and she prayed it would be justice well served.
"Great Uncle," Ezio said in exasperation. "Do you mind telling me how I'm supposed to train for a woman who uses her feet for fists? No one here has the knowledge of her fighting style, and I doubt Agostino has her flexibility." Could his situation get any worse?
Mario thought for a moment, holding his chin between his thumb and the crook of his first finger. How could he..."Ah-Ha! I have an idea! Anetta, bring me a pair of leggings my dear!"
"Leggings? Mario you can't be seriously considering dressing as a woman and fighting Ezio," Agostino declared from the edge of the ring, scratching his head in the process. "It makes no sense!"
Mario shook his head, running his left hand over his face before his head lowered, the end of his thumb placed on his temple as the rest of his hand rested on his forehead above his left eye. Was it any wonder why Ezio complained that his mercenarios were as dense as the brick walls that surrounded the village? He looked up at Ezio who was smiling smugly, the I-told-you-so look written ever so definitively on his young face. "No you idiota," Mario growled, "I don't plan on dressing like a woman; I plan on fighting like a woman."
The mercenary captain could not help the hurt look that crossed his face. "Oh...but..." Agostino was silenced by the hand that shot up from Ezio.
"Not...another...word. If we had wanted any of your in-depth insight to our dilemma we would have removed you from the rack," Ezio sighed as he rolled his eyes and folded his arms across his chest.
"Rack?" Agostino inquired, "What is this rack business?" he demanded.
"Never mind," Ezio said, the smug smile returning to his face once more.
"As you requested," Anetta smiled, "leggings for the signore. I think they're a lovely shade and would complement Ezio's attire quite nicely," she giggled and winked to Giovanni's second son. They were not far apart in age and were it not for the fact that she had dedicated her life to the service of his family she might have just had to...allow him to service her for a change. She curtsied and parted the company of the men. Claudia would more than likely be in need of solace as she crunched the near non-existent numbers of funding that trickled into the village.
Mario removed his sword breaker from his belt and sliced the leggings in half near the seam, "Ezio, here, you take one and I'll take the other and we'll fill them with fieno. Agostino, go fetch me two poles from the blacksmith."
Ezio lofted a brow as he took the silken object from his uncle, "Fieno?"
Mario smirked, "Trust me!"
Ezio had been right in his previous assumptions, it was about to get much worse as the two finished stuffing the leggings to the breaking point with hay from the cart in front of the villa. Agostino produced two steel poles, puzzled as always as to what Mario would do with them to which the elder Auditore only shook his head and shoved a rod in each legging before he wrapped a twine rope around each 'leg' to form a rudimentary lashing.
"Ah-Ha! See, did I not tell you, fight like a woman!" Mario said in triumph, his plan had worked perfectly. True, they may not have been spitting images but they would be enough to get his point across to his coglione of a nephew.
Ezio rolled his eyes and unfolded his arms, mouth open to comment on how ridiculous his uncle looked with two, fieno-filled leggings when he found himself blind-sided by the left 'leg'. "Uncle, I wasn't..." another movement nearly knocked him to his knees as his uncle spun and knelt, the right 'leg' landing a solid blow to his outer thigh just above his knee.
"Ready? My boy, you spend too much time pondering when you should be watching," Mario called as Ezio scrambled to regain his footing, a prompt for another solid blow from the mock legs as he spun and landed it squarely on the boy's back. "The girl moves like a fox, watch how she dances. Learn to anticipate," he said.
"A rabid one maybe," Ezio said as regained his footing and side stepped another swing from Mario and his latest training apparatus.
"I can't argue with that one," Mario laughed before one of his mercenaries ran up the stairs and stopped by the training ring.
"Signore!" Philippe gasped, "News from Firenze!" he panted before producing a piece of parchment from his satchel. As Auditore's messenger between Monterigioni, Firenze, and San Gimigiano he was the one his contacts across Toscana came to with reports of trouble. It was no easy task being the bearer of bad news, but it was a job he took with the upmost seriousness, he was too short and lean to be a fighter so why not be a runner?
Mario handed the leggings to Agostino as he reached out and took the note from the boy, "Ezio, take a break while I read this," he said. Slowly he unfolded the parchment, eyes scanning the contents which read, 'There has been another slain in the church. This time it was an innocent from what we gathered. She is here. Send him, send Ezio.' His head shook unconsciously as he turned to look at his nephew heavy heartedly. He had hoped that Ezio taking Maffei from her would have brought some form of solace to Nastassia, but it seemed as if it instead had the opposite effect. She had broken one of the many sacred vows the Assassin Order held in high regards: stay your blade from the flesh of the innocent. He had been able to turn a blind eye to the assassinations she had carried out of certain clergy members that she had found and presented as being liars in the face of faith, but now he could not turn away from her wrong doing. Punishment had to be rendered, but he wished somehow he did not have to send away the only male young enough to continue the Auditore name.
Ezio took note of the distress written on Mario's face, "What is it?" he asked as he was handed the note. As his golden brown gaze swept over the words he found himself puzzled. "Uncle, why are they asking specifically for me?" Mario was not being as forthcoming to him as he had been lead to believe and it seemed as if there were still too many dark secrets being held from him.
"The girl you are to fight, Ezio, Nastassia. She has left a trail of blood that I have followed for many years now, knowing full well that I would keep a wary eye on it. Now, she has done the unthinkable in our order by killing an innocent man." His heart broke even as the words left his lips. Anna had been determined and highly studious, opting to stay up and read the tenants over and over again until she could regurgitate them on command. She had been the closest thing Mario had or ever would have to a daughter; war had done her job to keep him from ever taking a wife and settling down to have a family unlike his brother. "Ezio, I do not know what it is or who it is you are riding out to fight. I fear all the training in the world would do nothing to prepare you for the woman you are about to face, and for that I am sorry my boy."
Ezio's blood began to boil, seething beneath the surface as the dragon stirred within him. It had been enough that she had threatened him while he hovered above the ground between the towers; he had thought then that it was nothing more than a scare tactic, something to get him to go away. It had been innocent enough, he had been sure of at the time. Then there was the challenge, but he knew that was coming because the woman in the tavern had forewarned him of it much to his surprise. He had killed his fair share of corrupt men, but to hear that she had slain an innocent and out of a fit no doubt. That was incomprehensible, completely uncalled for, unjustified, and downright asinine of her to do.
"I have had enough of this woman, girl or not, I am not standing idly by and letting her off as easy I would have if circumstances were different," Ezio said darkly. If she were standing here right now, he would have his hands wrapped around her neck and would be watching the life leave her eyes. "She has declared war against my city, my home, my existence and this order," he cried.
"Ezio, you cannot do to her the same as you have done to the Templars you have killed," Mario said warily. "Yes, she has killed an innocent, but you have to bring her back here so I can deal with her appropriately and according to the laws of our order." He would have to alert Machiavelli; things like this were out of his comfort zone. Just as to what was to be done with Nastassia and her punishment, he had an inclination but still the decision would have to be agreed upon by both himself and the man who he dreaded having to summon to Toscana.
"So she can do what, Mario? Sit here and plot our demise while we sleep? No!" Ezio snapped. Is he out of his damned mind, he thought. "Is it not enough that I have lost my father, my brothers, everything I ever knew and loved to some sinister plot that just seems to grow deeper and deeper? I never asked to choose this life!"
Mario stepped forward, a hesitant hand outstretched towards his nephew, "Most of us never asked to be a part of the order, we are born into it. It is a livelihood inherited for our family and we stand as pillars of light in a world lost in darkness, a world caught in a tumultuous sea of lies and deceit spread by those who would see us dead," he said. His hand made contact with Ezio's shoulder, his eyes holding the boy's gaze, "Some of us have gone astray at some point or another, Ezio, for whatever reason. Nastassia is no different; she was betrayed by those who had sworn to protect her from harm. Just because she has fallen to the ground does not give us permission to show her no mercy and fail to grant her the support she needs." Even as he spoke, he knew her path to redemption would be a long one but one she would only grow from.
Somehow the elder Auditore's words struck a chord, a familiar resonance in his wording and his eyes in Ezio's mind. It was as if his father spoke to him from the grave through his brother. "Alright, I'll ride out in the hour to make Firenze by nightfall. But I warn you, if she gives me one hint of trouble, if she slips up and does one stupid thing I will not be afraid to 'end her miserable existence' in the same fashion she had been so quick to threaten me with."
His uncle's words had done little to still the unsettled feeling he felt growing inside of his stomach. What had started as a somewhat decent morning had now turned into yet another struggle. When will it all end?
Santa Maria del Fiore sat in pained silence. The air was stale; scents of vinegar and incense intermingled with the stench of dust that burned in the flames of the candles which so heavily adorned the three tier wrought iron chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. The ornately designed frescos stood saturated in what light the darkness did not swallow whole. Thousands of colors and their various shades danced and took on different configurations as the tiny flames flickered, moved by the drafts high above the marble floor. The columns stood sentient, the statues of the saints looked on over the scene that was being set by the moonlight that filtered through broken panes of glass, shattered by the lightning which had struck the church. The tiles, once stained by the blood of the slain priest had been removed from near the door. Yet the eyes of the angels on high did not falter, ever vigilant in their guarded watch of the woman who knelt alone near the altar.
They knew what she had done, and what it was she was here to pay the penalty for. The day of reckoning...had arrived.
A creak echoed through the air as a pillar on the right side of the church beside the last row of pews cracked open. It was a secret passageway that had lead into the structure from outside, one that had been created by their forefathers as they snuck in to inter once more the remains that hovered above them now in the tallest dome. Ezio slowly edged his way through the entrance, his eyes searching the church before his gaze found who it was he had traversed across the Tuscan countryside for.
Anna stood and crossed herself, "Is it not a strange thing, that two people who met atop a church and had a friendly conversation once should decide who lives and who dies in one?" she smirked. Sleep had eluded her, exhaustion plagued her body. All she could think and had thought about was what lay in store for her when Mario sent his lapdog to fetch her.
Ezio could not help the urges that swelled within him. All he had to do was run and jump and this could have been all over. Anger filled him, consumed him, "You have spilled the blood of an innocent. You broke one of our sacred vows," he snapped.
"Il Mentore has taught them to you, I see. The tenants that were set forth by a tired bunch of old men who had nothing better to do than to gamble with their lives and the lives of others, to intervene in affairs they had no business to meddle in," Anna laughed. "Stay your blade from the flesh of the innocent, hide in plain sight," she said as she spun on her heel, her eyes quickly finding the white hooded man who had come to see himself off. "Oh did they break the third tenant with your father; never compromise the brotherhood," she said off-handedly.
Ezio could not believe his ears, "You, madam, are an arrogant, insolent fool who knows nothing of the sacrifices my father made to protect my..."
Anna laughed, "Family? Ha! He failed in that just as he failed me and mine. I have to wonder, did the apple fall far?" She reached her hand up and unclasped her cloak, the tattered and blood stained fabric fell to the floor. "Do not forget, boy, that you too started this life by slaughtering the innocent."
Ezio snarled, his left hand shot out towards her from the end of the aisle, finger pointed at her, "I have killed only those guilty of treason against my family!"
Anna's eyes held his as a sadistic smile graced her crimson tinged lips. Rage, resentment, fear, all three traits glowed in his amber gaze like an echo of the rampant seas that churned inside of her heart. "You, who are quick to damn but do not see the reflection that stares so unwillingly at you when you dress in the morning," she said as she removed her gloves. "But enough with the pleasantries, boy. Let us deal with my sentencing." She dropped her bow and quiver, her dagger clattered across the stone floor before she stepped slowly towards Ezio.
"It is written, with the blood of the fallen," Anna said. The bracers that had covered her right and left forearms fell to the floor as her hands skillfully worked the lacings free, "If any one of the sacred tenants is shattered and our brotherhood betrayed, then the blood of the Assassin who has carried out such horrid acts is to be put to death. Their blood must be spilt to reconcile the accounts we hold, so says the law."
Mario had demanded she be brought to him alive, faint hope that maybe she could be reformed in his eyes before Ezio set out to meet her. The light illuminated her eyes, every scar bared to him. Her body looked like it had done well in its job as a record book of the travesties that she had survived. "Then let this be a fair fight. Since you are unarmed and unarmored, then I too will remove my equipment," he said as he lowered his hood. "Since it is only you and I, I think I have the right to declare my own authority of this matter. If you defeat me, then I will spare you for tonight. But I promise you, if you remain in Italia I will hunt you and I will kill you. If you do not defeat me, and I kill you, I can assure you that you will die with honor."
Here he stood, a man that had stolen the only closure she would or could have ever attained, and he offered her the chance to fight for her life as if he was doing her a courtesy. Anna's father had been brutally honest with her from the beginning: if she broke any of the sacred vows she took as an Assassin, she would be killed and her name forever marked as a traitorous one. In the moment she remembered, she saw with her mind's eye the scene as he spoke the words. He had always guarded his emotions except when he stood behind closed doors with her mother, but it was then she saw his eyes well up as a tear traced its way down his sun kissed skin as he whispered, 'even if you have to die by my hand.'
Anna remembered the tears that left her father's eyes the day he screamed for her mother and her to follow Mario and Giovanni from the prison as he held off the guard. "Why, do you lack the balle to do what your uncle could not?" she snapped.
"No, I just want to see if you are truly half as good as you make yourself out to be, woman," he said with a smirk. Ezio saw it, the first stone she had stumbled over as her ice blue gaze grew distant for the moment as if she were caught in the whispers of a memory. He removed his hidden blade, his bracers, his knives, sword, dagger, and armor; all of which he placed within the safety of the pew that sat to his right. Now he stood, unprotected and unarmed in front of a woman who could very well kill him without hesitation.
"Shall we dance then?" he asked as he dropped into a defensive pose, his left fist up to guard his head as his right rose and came to position just an inch or two passed his left, his weight dropped into his feet as he grounded himself, feet shoulder width apart with the right slightly behind his left.
Anna took a running start, dropped to her left hip, right leg extended as she slid across the smooth, newly polished floor of the basilica. As she slid, she used the momentum she gained to twist and spin on the floor, her right leg angled just high enough to attempt to sweep Ezio's feet out from under him via his right ankle.
Ezio spun to the left, missing her foot entirely as he watched her use the spin to come to her knees before jumping to her feet. As she came up he took the opportunity to grab for her shoulders, her back exposed to him as he wrapped his arms around her. Her hair shimmered in the candle light as the scents of the Earthen tones he had smelled on the rooftop mixed with the rich smell of copper and iron, an apparent side effect of blood transferred from her cloak to her tresses. "I know what they did to you Nastassia," he said as she struggled against him.
"You know nothing of me, Auditore!" she snarled as she fought his grasp. As a woman, she had the distinct advantage of a lower core group of muscles that were far more flexible than his, leaving her with one of two options. She side stepped flawlessly to the right before bringing her elbow hard into his abdomen, hard enough to knock his grasp around her shoulders loose. As his grasp falter, she dropped into her hips, feet planted firmly into the ground as she reached her hands up to grasp his left arm and pull, twisting as she did. The momentum of the action sent Ezio up and over her form, landing him to his back on the marble floor beneath them, the tile cracking. With his arm still in hand as she moved to strategically break it at the elbow dropping both legs across his chest in the process as she leaned back when she hit the ground.
Ezio was not about to be out bested by her so quickly. He rolled into Anna, grabbed his arm with his free hand and in the process her legs folded over her head as she clung to his arm for dear life, curling her spine into a near perfect c-shape. He used the momentum in the roll to come to a near standing position, rearing back to drop her on the curve of her neck. She never game him the chance to accomplish his feat.
Anna dislodged her death grip on his arm, kicking her feet over her head the remaining few inches in order to roll out of his would be attempt at putting her out of the fight. As she rolled and came to her feet, she was taken aback by his knowledge of her fighting technique; she remembered in training, her father throwing her down to the heavily carpeted floor more than once. Never in her life had she encountered anyone that knew that move other than her. Perhaps he is more skilled than I thought.
Ezio came to his feet as Anna went on the defense. She was agile, she was quick, but for all of his uncle's talk she was nowhere near what he expected her to be. Yet even as she was poised to either defend herself or strike out as a cornered cat, her eyes became distant in that same split second once more. Could it be that she was so ensnared by the life of solitude she had lead for so long, that the idea of anyone else out there beyond her reach that could possibly know her darkest secrets scared her beyond comprehension?
"Are you going to stand there, or are you going to make this interesting?" she hissed as she caught her breath once more. The way the words left her shook her into the realization that somehow, in some way, this boy she fought tonight had gotten beneath her hardened exterior, her anger and lust for blood had paved the way for the crack that was beginning to form. She underestimated him, and now she would have to pay the price for it. Anna then thought of Mario, how much the man knew she was unsure of, but he was more than likely the reason why Ezio was somewhat prepared for her. Fighting could not have been the only the thing the old man had shared with him. She knew full well he would more than likely regurgitate truths she had buried so far within her, she had come to believe the façade of lies she had built was truth and that truths she had buried was a lie. "Ti ha colpito così duramente i bastardi lo sento!" she said.
How would she react to hearing them once more as her heart and mind raced within her?
"Grande discorso da uno che si muove più lentamente di mia nonna morta," Ezio smirked. The taunt was enough to get her to lunge.
Anna advanced, her left foot leaving the ground in a circular motion, a round house kick to his head. He blocked the first, both hands grabbing her left ankle, prompting a second kick as she spun on her hip, right foot coming off the ground and across. The motion caught him off guard as she found herself unceremoniously dropped to the floor, her hands shooting out to catch her upper body as he back pedaled. She pivoted on her wrists, her left leg coming down to the ground as she twisted her right leg across her body as her upper body twisted in time as she righted herself and kicked out with her right foot, hitting her mark squarely in his chest.
Ezio was stunned by the flurry of kicks, one after another in rapid succession. He was beginning to rethink his previous assumptions of the skill set she so uniquely held. "Torture, rape, it's one hell of a way to spend imprisonment," he said finally as she dropped into another defensive posture, her right leg outstretched beside her, her left knee bent at a forty-five degree angle.
Anna felt a chill run up her spine as she growled, "Your kind get creative when it comes to matters of the body." Her temper flared as her eyes flashed the coldest blue he had ever seen as she once more spun for another sweeping motion. Only this time when she spun and stood, she found herself catching a nasty right hook to her temple, dazing her. It was a lucky shot, which left her wondering how could she have missed it?
Ezio took advantage of the moment to dig further, "Day in, day out. Those serpents hissing and writhing as they stole your innocence, I can only imagine the lies that left their mouths," he said. He followed his right hook by a left which she dodged, dropping to the floor and catching him hard just above his knee with a solid kick as she spun, sending him to the ground.
"Shut up," she hissed. Her head spun, heat filled her temple as her eyes fought to regain their vision. He fell to the ground, but quickly planted his hands above his head and kicked his legs up and out as flipped himself back into another standing position. Once he landed he followed his verbal assault on her as he watched her still fighting to regain her composure.
"Mario told me Maffei did most of it. He was the one to cut you wasn't he? While the other watched and waited," Ezio said as he ducked another kick from the red head. "You were robbed of everything. Your life, your family, everything you knew! Just...like...me!"
In the moments it took for Ezio to say the words, her mind ached as a sick feeling surfaced in her stomach. Flashbacks began to rush over her, threatening to drown her like the waves that swept into the shores of the Aegean when she was home. Home...father...mother...no...No! I can't let him...do this... Anna snarled under her breath, "I am nothing like you!" she said, letting out a war cry as she unleashed a flurry of punches aimed at maiming him the way the inquisitors had maimed her. The wounds on her right forearm split open and began pouring crimson red once more to the floor as her eyes glazed over. Her mind swam and spun, her heart screamed at her as sweat soaked her clothing, her body burned with emotion and physical pain.
Ezio dodged, weaving in and out from her fists, still being assaulted by a flurry he couldn't control. He saw the wounds and though they bled heavily now, he could see a single letter and number that she had carved into her arm: J3. In her anger, she had resorted to taking her aggressions out on herself and from the looks of it, this wasn't the first time as the scar on her left came into view: P23. She's driving herself insane over this...he thought as a sense of urgency fell over him and as he fought her he watched her break down, piece by piece.
"Five years is too long," he whispered to himself as he stepped back, catching her right forearm and as his hand enveloped it over the wound, he squeezed hard. In that same second, he wrenched back hard as his opposite hand landed a death blow to her shoulder, cringing as he heard and felt the resounding crack as he dislocated her shoulder.
Anna's eyes went wide, unable to breathe as she fell to her knees as her shoulder shifted hard in its joint. Her skin went pale as all of the memories, all of the pain, all of the emotions crashed over her as Ezio had successfully managed to tap into the muscular memory of old dislocations caused to her right shoulder from her time on the rack. A moment of silence filled the church and for a moment Ezio held his breath.
That was when it happened...
The tears flowed freely from her eyes; her body shook as sheer panic gripped her heart. Five years, five long years of bottling everything up came to her all at once. Anna looked skyward and screamed as loud as she could, "Why? I gave you everything! Everything! My life! My heart! You left me you stronzo! Fottimi! " She could take no more as she was taken back to that day when she stood as a fourteen year old girl, defiled and bleeding on the cold stone floor of her cell. "Please...please..." she sobbed as she looked up at Ezio, "I...I don't...I don't want to do this...to be this...I can't..." Her heart was shattered, she had held onto her anger so hard that it became the only glue that held her together, held her captive inside of herself. She had dedicated her life to tearing apart the injustice that plagued mankind, but she had done it in a way that violated everything she had stood for at one time.
Ezio looked into her eyes as he let go of her, dropping to his knees, his arms sweeping her into an embrace as she sobbed, tears soaking the silken shirt he wore beneath his doublet. He hated having to be the one to break her, physically and mentally, but there was a reason it was him and no one else. No one else understood what either had endured and they never would, not even his beloved Christina. "Sh," he whispered, "I have you. I promise, you'll never go through that again," he said as he held her head close to his chest, "no one should ever have to break like this alone."
The reality of what she had done, the severity of her actions weighed heavily on her. So much so, as Anna caught her reflection in the marble pillar that they now resided by, she could hardly recognize the woman who stared back at her. Her eyes were cold, her face paled by exhaustion and pain. Her hair was tangled and looked unkempt. When was the last time she took a day from the hunt for herself? This was not what you wanted, father. I have...failed you. The thought hit her as if the church itself had fallen on her; it had been the last thing she had ever wanted to do.
Yet even in her despair, she found solace in Ezio's arms, lavender and musk heavy on his clothes as she buried her face further in his chest. Her eyes closed, her tears began to slow as she focused on his heart beat. She took note of the fact that still, even as her crying began to cease, he held her tightly to him.
Ezio refused to let her go even as he heard her crying begin to quiet, if he anything he only drew her tighter to him. Something in his heart told him that this girl, this creature he held on to, would become an integral part of his life for now. She was an angel, fallen and misguided by the torments of the world around her and the thought that she had suffered for so long tore at him. He now understood why his uncle wanted him to stay his hand; in a world where he swore he was the only one in it some days, it was a comfort to know that perhaps now...he would not have to go it alone.
Anna pushed away from him as something inside of her stirred; a gentle rain of warmth in what had been a frozen wasteland. Their eyes met, and she began to see him in a new light and in that moment, she felt herself drawn to him. The darkness had left her sight, and all she saw was Ezio. Even in her weakest moment, he stayed his hand from her.
His heart caught in his chest as he leaned his head down towards her's. Her eyes, how could it be possible that he found himself in this situation? "Nastassia," he whispered.
"Anna," she said softly. She was unable to move as he leaned closer still, her heart raced in her chest.
Ezio could hold back no more. In one fluid motion, he drew her close to him; his eyes closed as he leaned down and his lips found her's.
The world stopped...time froze...the only two people in their world were them...
