Author's Note: This chapter was written by Master Assassin Darkstorm.
Domenico stood on El Vaticano's cross atop it's domed roof, everything seemed calm so far in the air, so tranquil, so still and more importantly, a excellent place to look for Damion.
Over head the sky had a overcast. Clouds began to cover over the sun like a thick blanket of black, the wind speed had increased dramatically. Roma was famous for storms such as these. Typhoon like conditions and they only got a good thunderstorm. The winds made Domi's black tunic flutter in the breeze, his elbow length hidden blades were spotless, no blood or battle wounds on them at all.
Everything that happened to Domi these last four months have been like a life he thought would never happen for himself. When Franchesca gave birth to Damion, he could not stop feeling so happy that he was a father, that his life was different. No longer was he just a kid in love with the woman of his life, he was a father. He had responsibilities to his wife, Franchesca, and to his baby boy.
After first holding his son, Domenico never felt so proud, so happy, carried so much joy. Damion looking up at him made him feel that no matter what, his son knew that Domenico was his father, and that brought a tear to his eye. Some of his favorite moments was reading Damion to sleep at night, seeing his son sleep, he looked like a angel, much like his mother when she slept next to Domi. Franchesca always told Domenico how much a of a natural he was at being a father to Damion, and to that, Domi was always there for his son. If there wasn't enough time in the day, he would make time. He wanted to be with his son as much as possible, and never let him go.
One of Domi's men, a thief working in the back alley ways of Roma, told him everything Franchesca had learned: Damion was taken by a man who was called Nikolai, and this coward took Damion to a warehouse where they train infants to become Templars. Upon hearing this, Domenico was too disgusted not to react, despite his wife's wishes that he didn't interfere and that she could handle the mission.
Grim fear and worry had been all Domenico had felt for this past week. He was scared for Damion; Rome was a big city and all he could think about is what if Damion was injured, or cold or alone. Was someone reading to him at night, holding him when he was scared? Did he miss Domi and Franchesca or was he going to lose them to the Templars? He was also worried about Franchesca. His darling wife hadn't slept for a week, since she was out all night and day looking for Damion, never stopping and with the Templars an active threat in the city, Domi continued to grow scared.
While Franchesca told him that she could handle Damion, he sent his own assassin apprentices, people he had drawn out of Roma's darkness and brought into the light of day and showed them the truth, that nothing was true and everything was permitted, out into the city streets searching, Domi caught up on his sleep. He had to be active. He had to be ready for anything and alert enough to help Fran if she got hurt or collapsed from exhaustion. However, for some reason, these last few nights, Domi got the feeling that all this was his fault. His past may come back to bite him eventually.
If there is one thing Fran does not understand here is that Damion is my son too.
If I was holding him while she was in the market with Evelyn, maybe none of this had happened.
She was too clumsy in holding him. If she hadn't become so attached to Damion, none of this had happened.
Domi shook his head. He could not believe those thoughts crossed his mind. Domi was more disgusted with himself for thinking like that. He loved Franchesca with all his heart; she was the reason he left Roma in the first place. His own father was against him leaving for Monteriggioni but Domenico insisted he traveled and became independent from his family. Now that he was back in Roma, his parents seemed different; the first time he introduced the adult Franchesca to them, they practically welcomed her into the family with open arms.
He snapped out of his thoughts again at the sound of people traveling toward his direction.
The first figure wore a white assassin hood, covering his face. The only part of his face exposed to the sun was his black eyes. He was eighteen years of age, had hidden blade attached to his right arm and carried a spiked club on his belt. He was Illario de Magnias, one of Domenico's apprentices. The first he ever recruited.
"Domi," Illario brought himself up to the roof and stood at partial attention, "Your father wants a word."
My father? Domenico's father was someone who was too old to see combat, let alone travel out of his house. He had just survived the flu, with Federico's help of course, and he was in no position to be traveling around like he was young again.
"Where is he?" Domi asked running a hand through his short brown hair.
"Down below us. He says it is important."
"Alright, race down to the bottom then?"
"You're going to lose, old man."
Illario and Domenico were like brothers. If there was one person in this world Domi trusted, besides Franchesca, was Illario. They were like brothers and, more importantly, he could trust Illario with Damion's life.
Both men looked down at their targets, a pair of hay crates a few hundred feet below them. They jumped and executed perfect Leaps of Faith to the bottom. Franchesca taught Domenico everything there was about being an Assassin while they were engaged and Domi passed that knowledge onto his students hoping they would, some day, do the same. Domi began to pick up momentum but Illario got the upper hand, his smaller body made him perfect for this.
With only two feet left to go, both Assassins hit the crates at the same time. Domenico got out first and brushed the hay off his tunic, Illario was soon to follow.
"Guess it's a standoff." Illario said extending out a hand.
"I suppose. We'll have to find a taller building." Domi replied, taking Illario's hand and shaking it.
Both men shared a good laugh. Joking around while on a mission eased the tension between teammates. Domi had always told Illario that, and Illario believed him. Every time they had a tough mission, they would laugh and on a lot of occasions. Domenico had Illario over to have dinner with his family, he was good with Damion a lot, helping Franchesca feed him or change him. Domenico had a good feeling about Illario and that was not about to change any time soon.
"Hello Domenico."
Domenico stopped laughing, he knew who was approaching them, and personally, he wish who he was expecting wasn't coming. The person who approached him was a man of at least sixty-five, snow white hair on his head, brown pants, white tunic, hunch in his back and he carried a cane. Antonio de Mancini, Domi's father.
"Illario, continue to look for Franchesca and Arille." Domenico looked at his father "I'll be right behind you."
"Of course." Illario patted Domi on the shoulder and whispered "Good luck." He quickly ran back up along a roof
Both father and son were left alone now. The typhoon like wind had begun to die down and leave a cool summer breeze.
"Hello father." Domenico said coldly, "May I ask why you're here?"
"Remember son, I am still a major powerhouse in this city, or have you forgot what I taught you…?"
"No." Domi snapped back, "I remember quite well. That's why you pulled me away from my life in La Toscana."
"I did that for your own good. How else could you have followed in my footsteps as the major Templar power in this city?" Antonio stepped closer to his son.
Domenico hated that word, Templar. To him, it had become poison, his life as a Templar in training was long gone from him, and he never wanted that life ever again. The training was why he left, why he didn't find Franchesca until they were seventeen. While she was all he could think of, his father may have helped Domi put that fire out in the church, but it was his men who had started it.
"Tell me what you want, Father."
"I heard about my grandson being taken and I wanted to see how you were." Antonio sat down on a nearby bench, catching his breath.
"I'm fine." Domi took a seat next to his father "Just tired is all. Fran hasn't been able to sleep ever since Damion was taken."
"I believe your more concerned about Damion's well being then she is."
"And what makes you say that?"
Antonio sighed "Domenico, do you remember when you were eight and you fell into the mines in Monteriggioni with Franchesca?"
"Yes, what does that day have anything to do with it?"
"Your mother and I searched the city for hours looking for you. Your mother was worried sick. She had to be put to bed because she had become exhausted looking for you. She had not eaten, drank or slept for two days looking for you, day and night checking until she collapsed in the streets asleep.
"I found you because of one thing. Instinct. There is a bond between father and son that is the strongest bond of human life in the world." Antonio continued, "Worry, stress, happiness, anger. The bond is always thicker than any water and right now, you are worried about Damion, because the bond is there. His well being is all you care about and all you will ever care about. When your grandfather died when you were four, I was devastated beyond all belief. I was heartbroken, because the bond was broken, but you and I share a bond that will never die. Fathers look out for their sons. That's how it has been and that is how it will continue to be."
Tears fell down Domenico's eyes. The fact that Antonio cared so much about Domi was touching. All his life, Antonio was strict, but that was because he loved him. Domenico guessed that's how he became such a strong man.
"So, what do I do?" Domenico wiped the tears from his eyes.
"Let your fatherly instincts take over. Eventually, if you put your heart to it, you'll find where your wife and son are, and your family will become whole again."
Domi thought for a minute then he got an idea. "They're at the old harbor, down at the warehouse."
Life filled Antonio's face. "There you go! You just had to be calm and think it over." He patted Domi on the shoulder. "Son, I feel that my grandson's disappearance is partially mine to blame."
"Yours?"
"Yes, the man Nikolai, was my pupil. Growing up, Nikolai always talked about new life, babies and infants, how precious they were, how innocent and pure, and how quickly they can become corrupted. I should have stopped him there and silenced him, but….I was too stubborn, too cocky to think he would do something like this."
"Padre, I thank you for being honest with me. I will silence Nikolai, and get Damion back."
Antonio stood up "Grazie, my son. I should return home, your mother's probably wondering where I am. I'll send my love." He hugged his son.
Domenico returned it and began to walk away. "Tell Madre Franchesca and I hope to see you two at our home some time soon." He ran off in the direction of the old harbor.
Eventually reuniting himself with Illario and his other Assassin apprentices, Bernardo, Isabella, Emilo and Lorenzo, the six assassins searched each harbor warehouse, which were previously used for building ships for the Papal forces. The army of the Pope himself and the Roman Navy used them for blockades and such. Each one coming up empty, gutted and bare, black walls and a bit of sunlight coming out of the eighteen windows. A few on the walls and most in a pattern along the ceiling.
Domenico almost gave up hope as they came up on the second to last warehouse. Illario and Bernardo broke the door open and again, bare. Domi stormed out and sat down on a nearby bench, placed his hands on his head and attempted to stop himself from crying but failed. His wife was probably dead and his son was falling down a path he didn't want him to go down, the way of the Templar, murders, and corrupt men who will get away with destroying people's lives.
The tears came out like a waterfall. He couldn't stop. Antonio was right; the bond between father and son was strong and he felt Damion's pain. He couldn't take seeing Franchesca so upset, and he couldn't take worrying about his son at night. Damion and Franchesca were his whole world, if he lost them, he wasn't sure what he was going to do.
Illario and the others stood around him. Isabella and Illario tried to calm him down, while Bernardo, Emilo and Lorenzo checked the streets and ally ways.
"Domi," Illario sat down next to him "We still have one more warehouse to check."
"True, but that one is abandoned." Domi wiped the tears away from his eyes and tried to stand.
"Yes but use your instincts, when have the Templars ever used active places?" Illario asked lifting his spiked club.
Domi nodded and took off, his assassins following right behind and keeping in formation.
By the sunset's rise, the assassins stood in front of the abandoned warehouse, its windows were missing glass and the outside was scrapped and worn by the sands of time.
Domenico faced his apprentices. "Everyone, take to the rooftop, enter through the windows on my signal. Take out any Templar soldiers."
The apprentices nodded and climbed the walls. Domenico stood in front of the warehouse, checking over his dual hidden blades and his sword was secured on his belt and then began his welcome inside the warehouse.
Don't worry Damion, your father is coming.
