Life, Death or a Choice

by Through the Mirror Darkly

Life or Death. That's usually what it all comes down to. But not for me. I got some thing else. I got a choice and now I have to change a shattered future or dying trying. (Editing and Updating Old Chapters. Bonus Chapter has been added, Ch 15! Merry Christmas!)

14. Cain and Abel

Disclaimer: I own nothing.
In the next chapter we will get to AC 2 storyline and finally I written Ezio's stuff. Honestly I had a more lengthy trip to the AC2 beginning, but I really wanted to get the ball rolling. Thanks for being so patient.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter was intensely difficult to the edit for the sheer fact that I had swapped point of views between character's too readily, and that was a big mistake I did in a lot of my earlier works. As I am now as a writer, I like to limit point of view to one character (two on occasion) because I don't want to give too much of a story away, or going into unnecessary depth when it's not needed. But I got it down so yah!

I want to Serya, ThePrincessDragon, Rainingsun02811, nefertare, silverroses14, Dovinking, Mercy_Smith, Em3kitty, Tute350, Valshaena, flufffage, RinPekoGakkuri, WinterChild1994, Shivex, mutebychoice, Chobana, FireBirdOn, catschmi, MsLilly, Immortalization, mid_2_Knight, PetiteFeline, Forest_Stars, Caratris, Shade95, EurydiceAnstice, Novalight, Rainny, ZetaSol, Mar_mi, delphinepryde84, DannyPhantom619, Tenebrariae, wearethewitches, Gygapudding, Lillium23, Askia, WormwoodSand, and 41 guests for the kudos! You all are wonderful! Thank you!
I want to thank Valshaena, Serya, Library_Drone, Boomer1125, ValentinaRose, silverroses14, Milday_Readsalot, helygen2017, snowfiredragon78, WormwoodSand, WinterChild1994, Shivex, FireBirdOn, MsLilly, The OneKrafter, aadele123, Caratris, delphinepryde84, YalenaYardeen4Queen, EurydiceAnstice, Judex, Mar_mi, JammyONE for the bookmarks!
I want to thank WinterChild1994, Snowfiredragon78, MorriganFreeman and Heather Tshudy for the comments!

Chapter Inspired by the Songs:
"Happyland" by Mans Zelmerlow
"Don't Think Just Run" by Beth Crowley
"I'm Alive" by Sia
"Be Calm" by FUN

Edited: 11/11/2018
Updated: 11/13/2018

---

Chapter Eleven

"Cain and Abel"

There are moments where I wonder just how I came to be where I am now. Thoughts so heavy and choking that it is hard to breath, a painful reminder of how far I still have to go and a reminder of all the things that I've lost and left behind.— an excerpt from Olivia Steel's Chronicles, dated circa 1476 (article found in Shawn Hasting's Database)

La Volpe was no fool.

His situational awareness had been honed since a young boy, so he knew the exact moment when he had garnered a little shadow. If he had truly wished to lose the tail, he could have escaped his pursuer with ease. When his violet eyes caught a flash of red, he held back the impulse for his interest had been piqued. What did the Red Hood want with him? Turning into an alleyway where the buildings casted shade, the Fox hid himself well and withdrew a dagger. The corner of his mouth lifted in a dark smirk when the Red Hood stumbled forward, past his hiding spot almost desperately. How someone so careless become so famed for being a notorious thief was beyond him.

He struck out as quick as lightning, arm wrapped around the slighter man and his dagger pressed tight against the red hood man's jugular. "How did you find me?" La Volpe asked, darkly.

The Master Thief felt the scathingly look even from under the darkness of the hood. And in a smarmy tone, the Red Hood replied, "When you go so far away, my heart can feel your absence."

La Volpe let the knife bit into the Red Hood's neck, watching the other thief flinch back and it brought a rather vindictive smile to his lips. "I don't take well to pests stalking me," La Volpe intoned, his voice as sharp as the blade. "I will hear your motives because my curiosity demanded satisfaction. That doesn't mean however, that I won't still slit your throat without hesitation. Now, I'll have your explanation for following me and remember, make it a good one. I imagine you can fathom the outcome if I find it lacking."

The Red Hood stood taut, like a bow string. La Volpe could see how the man wanted nothing more than to bat the dagger away from his throat, but refrained from the urge to do so. Instead, the thief let out a deep and resigned sigh. "I…need your help," he replied, the words choked and bitter as if they cost the Red Hood a great deal of pride to even say them out loud.

La Volpe's brows shot upward, in mute surprise. "Oh?" The Fox smirked, all too amused and smug. "The great Red Hood in need of my assistance? My, my, what strange bedfellows desperation makes."

The Red Hood's nostrils flared as he let out an exhale, his grey glittered from underneath the shadow of his hood. It was strange how the shadows concealed his face, almost unnatural in a way that made the hair on the Fox's neck to stand on end. "A friend of mine has been kidnapped. I fear that time is not a luxury I can spend, so if you cannot help me then I must find another way."

La Volpe considered the Red Hood for a long moment, before he released the other thief and slid his dagger back into its sheath. "Do you know who took her?" He asked, his tone nonchalant. He wasn't sure he would help just yet, but he did wonder just who or what could make the Red Hood so desperate.

"A man…" There was a split second of hesitation, followed by a soundless curse. "A man named Carl. He is about average height, pale in complexion, with green eyes and reddish brown hair. He doesn't want to be found. He is trying very hard to not make waves, sticking close to the shadows. I need you to find him."

La Volpe tilted his head, thoughtfully. "Hmm. I'll do this, but for a price."

"Deal," the Red Hood stated, without hesitation.

He gave a bark of laughter, his smile sharp and borderline vicious. "You don't even know what I am asking for," the Master thief said, clucking his tongue in light disapproval. "You should not be so eager to make deals with mean such as me without knowing the details."

"I'm willing to give anything to save my friend," the Red Hood replied, chin raised defiantly.

La Volpe slanted an indecipherable look at the other thief. "I will send my men out looking for this…Carl," he rolled the strange name off of his tongue, slowly. "I will seek you out if anything is found."

"Thank you," the Red Hood breathed out, shoulders slumped in relief.

"Do not be so quick to hand me your gratitude. This is not out of the goodness of my heart. It is a transaction, and I will one day name my price," the Fox warned her, his voice deep and grave. "Be hopefully that the day I do come to collect the day be a kind one."

"Price or no price," the Red Hood responded, unflustered by his coldness. "You still have my gratitude."

La Volpe watched the thief turn on heel and leave, feeling rather bemused by these turn of events. He stood there in the shadows for nearly five minutes before he decided to climb upward and moved across the Florence rooftops with new zeal in his step.

---

The scent of earth and musk permeated the hidden underground chamber. Torchlight flickered bewitchingly along the stone walls, and Giovanni Auditore made a steeple with his fingers and pressed them thoughtfully to his mouth. The new information that had been brought to the Brotherhood had been unexpected as it was alarming. His dark eyes flickered up to his good friend, Uberto. "Are you certain of this? If we make a mistake based on this information…" The Assassin trailed off, with a deep and unsettled frown etched into his features.

"As certain as we can be of the validity of information given under duress," Uberto responded, his tone weary and carefully. He paced the length of the room, with slow and measured steps. "The Templar we tortured was quite convinced in his story that the Red Hood has allied with the Templars. That the thief is gathering intelligence and artifacts of great importance for the Grand Master as we speak."

Giovanni's brow furrowed. "This does not align with the actions of the Red Hood thus far. The actions of the thief against Salmoni in San Gimignano and the encounter with La Volpe, has indicated that the Red Hood has a great distaste for the Templar Order," the Assassin stated, shaking his head lightly.

"It could have been a calculated effort on the Templar Order's part to present the Red Hood as such," Lorenzo de Medici murmured, with a troubled look in his eyes. "It could have been a well-built and clever façade to make the thief appear as a potential ally."

Uberto folded his arms behind him. "It is a possibility. Regardless, if this information is true then the Red Hood is a threat that needs to be dealt with swiftly. He had already won the heart of the people. I do not think a day has gone by that I do not hear some rumor or story about the Red Hood on the streets. It would be best to pull the roots while they are not deep."

"Yet we cannot afford to act with haste," Lorenzo commented, twisting the signet ring on his finger idly. "The truth of the matter cannot be determined without further investigation. I would not make a potential ally an enemy based on rumor alone."

"Then what do you propose?" Uberto demanded, cuttingly. "Wait until the Red Hood comes after us?"

Giovanni intervened before an argument could spiral out of control, as it was prone to do as of late between Uberto and Lorenzo. "I will look into the matter myself. If the information proves well-founded, then I will deal with the Red Hood," the Assassin stated, firmly.

Lorenzo nodded, after a moment. "Very well. I trust your judgment Giovanni."

"As do I," Uberto agreed.

Giovanni inclined his head, in acknowledgement. "Then I bid you all farwell," he said, quietly. "Pray that I bring good news the next time we meet."

The Assassin strode up the stairs, and through the crawl space that led out of the hidden space in the Medici Bank. He sealed the entrance behind him before he exited the backroom, and out into the foyer where the crowd was light for a Sunday. Silently, he hoped that his friends' judgment wasn't misplaced.

---

Olivia closed her eyes in despair, sinking wearily down on the stool. Her head was pressed into her hands, the throbbing in her skull from frustration and helpless increased with each passing hour. Fear was a constant companion in these recent days, stealing the ability to rest or eat. "You have found absolutely nothing?" Livvy asked, hands dropped down to her side. Her eyes peered at Luca from underneath her cowl, and she sighed when the bartender shook his head side to side.

Olivia had sent out her own network of spies to keep an ear and eye on the streets, not merely content to have La Volpe and his men to do all the work. The more people on hand then the more likely Carl, and thus Ciana, would be found.

"I have my men still searching for signs of this man," Luca reassured her, grim-faced and severe. "But if there is any more information you can share that would aid us in our efforts, then now would be the time."

"I cannot think of a single that would help. I have searched my mind a thousand time, and come up blank every single time. Carl and I were close as children, but…" Her voice trailed off, eyes swimming with a sea of regrets and sorrows. For a moment, she just pressed her fingertips to her lips as if willing no more to spill past. It felt like if she said another word, then she would breakdown and she couldn't allow that to happen. Swallowing the knot of emotions burning in the back of her throat, Olivia looked back at Luca who studied her with a sharp gaze. "Anything I knew of him is unlikely to help now. He is not the same boy that I knew. He's something far more darker and dangerous than I ever imagined. Keep looking, and report to me if anything no matter how small is found."

Luca nodded. "As you wish."

Olivia rose off the stool, and left the bar with tension drawn tight along her spine. It was as if the world rested its woes upon her shoulders and she could feel her knees buckle underneath the weight of it all. Was this punishment for all the things she couldn't protect Carl from as they were children? Punishment for all the failures, and bad choices she had ever made? She wasn't a saint by far, but she did not think she was so evil to have karma take such a vicious swing at her like this now.

Her eyes flickered across the crowd, searching for any sign of Carl or Ciana. She knew it was an effort made in vain, but there was a kernel of hope inside of her that wouldn't die. Her hands curled into fists, the urge to strike or lash out at something bubbled with her like a boiling pot. She watched a group of kids getting into a heated argument, but the nearby guards broke it up quickly when fists started to fly. For a brief moment, Olivia saw herself and Carl in the children's shoes. Saw the bitter past where the two siblings were pitted against one another, and the steep shadow of their father that still hovered over her to this very day.

"Psst, psst."

The sound snapped Olivia out of her dark thoughts. Her head whipped to the side to see a man dressed in torn rags, at the mouth of the alleyway, beckoning her attention. This made her leery for a number of reasons. Thieves or worse took advantage of the alleyways of Firenze. The man could be looking to steal a bit of coin, and thought that a slight man—as Olivia appeared to be with her clothes and hood—would be easily overpowered. The man could also be looking to hurt her in more vicious ways, and revulsion darted down her spine with a shudder. "I beg your pardon?" She sneered, eyes narrowed.

She didn't not move closer to the alleyway, and laid her hand upon the hilt of her sword. She watched the man fidget nervously, before he dared to leave the safety of the alleyway and approach her.

When he was within arm's reach, he stopped and asked in a voice barely more than a whisper, "You are the Red Hood, yes?"

Olivia eyed him, disdainfully. She gave a slow nod, her hand tightening around her sword. She watched him the gaze of a hawk, and one false move, she would strike him down without mercy.

"Good. It is good that I finally found you," the man trembled, eyes darting about with fear and anxiety. "I am one of La Volpe's. He told me to tell you that the one you seek is in there," he added, pointing a finger at the large unfinished cathedral that stood haloed in the sun just behind her.

There's something about this that makes my nose twitch, Livvy thought, with a skeptical brow raised. One of La Volpe's men just happened to be stationed at the cathedral just as she walked by from Luca's bar? The cathedral that Carl was supposedly holed up in? She hated to be so pessimistic, but it was a bit too convenient for her taste. Still she couldn't just walk away without investigating this new "lead". There was a great chance that this was a trap of some sort, but she had to risk those odds—if not for her, then for Ciana's sake. She looked back at the raggedy man, committing his face to memory before she tossed his a small purse full of coin. "Thank you," she said, with a saccharine smile.

"God bless you, sir," he replied back before running away.

Livvy snorted, lightly underneath her breath. She walked towards the cathedral with a tight expression on her face, and she glanced around the entrance to note a strange lack of guards or people. This only increased her paranoia, so she entered with caution and care, eyeing the empty pews with more than a little worry. Her heart was a steady rhythm beating in her ears like a drum, and she kept one hand on her sword. She approached the front of the church, when a voice called out from behind her, "Red Hood."

The Red Hood whirled around, blade half withdrawn when the thief went completely still, like a statue. Shock jolted through her like she had been struck by lightning when she found herself faced with a familiar white hood, the Assassin Giovanni Auditore. He was truly a terrifying sight in his white robes, the hint of blood splattered along the edges and the air around him was artic cold and merciless. She felt panic trickle through her blood like a quickening, and she could swear she heard her heart hammering wildly in her throat. It took her several moments to find her voice, and she whispered out, evenly, "Assassin."

Giovanni frowned, deeply. The flash of his eyes made her spine stiffen, knowing that he was using the eagle vision to scan her. Breath caught tight in her throat, she realized that he would likely see the strange green aura that he had said she had when she approached him the party. She waited for the inevitable reveal, but it did not come. Instead, his eyes flashed back to normal and she could feel the waves of frustration coming off of him ten feet away. Is…is his eagle vision not working? The Red Hood thought, worriedly. Or is something else?

Regardless, it just made the female thief all that more concerned.

"What do you want? What are you after?" Giovanni questioned, darkly.

"Want?" the Red Hood's voice went shrill, nearly too shrill for a man and she cleared her throat roughly. "I am afraid I don't follow. There are many things I want, but not a thing from you. If you think I have intentionally sought you out here, then you are sorely mistaken. Mere coincidence that you and I happened to collide."

Not that she believed that.

"I don't believe in coincidences," Giovanni stated sharply.

"Good policy," the Red Hood inclined her head, sagely.

Giovanni hummed deeply, before he took calculated and measured steps towards her. His boots echoed softly against the marbled floor, and he circled her lazily like a vulture would. "Your conspirators sold you out," he informed the Red Hood, darkly. "Perhaps you should have put your faith in better people."

"Conspirators?" the Red Hood replied, a note of confusion in her voice. She carefully made sure to keep her eyes facing him at all times, and her back faced away from him. Anxiety prickled at her skin white hot and burning, and sweat dotted along her brow. "And I'm afraid I don't have time for games. I have more important things that require my time."

"Yes…your friend, was it?" Giovanni's voice was light, almost mocking. "She is missing?"

The Red Hood upper lip curled, ever so. "I think I smell a fox in the henhouse," she grounded out, between clenched teeth. She had no doubt that La Volpe would share her plight with the Brotherhood. It was not an unreasonable assumption given the way she had gained notoriety, and had gotten herself mixed up in the middle of the age old war. Still it raked across her skin like hot coals, having tales of her passed around by the some of the most dangerous people in all of Italy. Olivia felt her scowl deepen when La Volpe sidled out of his hiding spot with his arms folded over his chest, and the Master Thief shot her a cutting smile.

The Red Hood scoffed. "Who invited you to this party, Swiper?"

La Volpe grimaced at the nickname, unable to mask his distaste and ignored the questioning look that Giovanni sent him. To his credit, the Fox quickly regained his composure and glowered at her darkly. "So…the Red Hood, a Templar. I expected better of you," the Master Thief stated, an undertone of disappointment in his voice.

"Huh?" Came the intelligent reply. The Red Hood stood there, posture slipped into something less focused and more dumbfounded in nature. The words repeated on loop in her ears until she finally managed to comprehend the accusation, and a number of emotions swelled up inside of her. A trickle of laughter that felt too sharp and too ugly to be real amusement tumbled out of her mouth before she could hold them back. "Did you…did you really just call me a Templar? Why on God's green earth would you ever think that?"

"A reliable source," Giovannit told her, after sharing a brief glance with the Fox.

"Forgive me, but I fear that you must have a skewed understanding of the word reliable," the Red Hood stressed, sardonically. Her heart hammered at the base of her skull, and her mouth went dry with panic. "Reliable means able to be trusted or dependable. And clearly since I'm not a fucking Templar by any stretch of the imagination, I would have to say that your so-called source sucks big, sweaty donkey balls."

There was a moment where both the Assassin and Master Thief absorbed the colorful and unusual insult. If the situation hadn't been so serious, she might have been tempted to genuinely laugh. As it stood, she was too pissed off to find humor right this very moment.

Giovanni was the first to recover. "Our source gave information that you would be here in this cathedral, recovering an artifact of grave importance to the Templar Order," the Assassin said, with a slight tilt of his head. "How do you explain your presence if not for that?"

Understanding blossomed in her mind, and she cursed quietly. "I had not planned on coming to the cathedral. A man approached me claiming to work for the Fox. Given that our association was likely not well-known, I had thought to take a risk to come here anyways despite every warning sign I saw," she spoke, her tone rushed and hurried. There was a flutter of panic that went through her heart, and she drew her pull her sword free from the sheath. "It's a trap, for all of us."

La Volpe breathed in through his nose sharply, his violet eyes narrowed when a great number of mercenaries entered the building with weapons drawn and approached them. "I hate Templars," he growled out.

The Red Hood's jaw clenched. Was it the Templar's who planned this? Or Carl? No, this trap reeks of Templar desperation. Carl is too well devoted to not messing up the timeline, and putting Giovanni and La Volpe in a potential death trap would cause massive ripples beyond repair for the future.

Giovanni tossed the Fox a triumphant smirk. "I told you something was off."

"Alright, alright, you were right. You can gloat about it later, I fear we have more pressing issues right now," La Volpe rolled his eyes, with a good natured grin. The fight erupted in the blink of an eye, the Red Hood charging straight into the fray while La Volpe threw a smoke bomb to give an edge to his subterfuge. The Assassin dodged a blade, cutting a mercenary's throat open wide with his hidden blade. Rushing forward, he dropped his body to the ground and slid underneath the pews, circling around with the swiftness of a lion to charge the mercenaries from behind.

"Afraid of a few mercenaries, La Volpe?" Giovanni called out, grabbing a mercenary and using him as a shield against an oncoming arrow.

"The odds are in their favors," La Volpe stated, burning a blade clean through a man's gut.

"Oh, get a room," the Red Hood huffed, rolling her eyes at their antics. Her sword clanged against an oncoming blade, the force of the blow made her wobble ever so slightly. Steadying herself quickly on her feet, the thief kicked out and hit the man right between his legs. He gasped out, shocked and eyes bulging. She shoved him backwards with all the force she could muster, knocking him into another mercenary about to throw a knife straight at the Fox's back. Turning her focus onto the enemy closest to her, she parried his blade and then pulled free her dagger to bury it to the hilt in his eye. His body slumped, and Olivia felt her stomach roll violently. Violence was a part of her life, a part that would always feel wrong even though she was good at it.

"Behind you!" Giovanni called out to her.

The Red Hood dropped to her knees on instinct, as a sword sail over her head. She reached up, grabbing the mercenary's arm and twisted it at an unnatural angle, slamming down on the corner of the nearest pew. The man stumbled back in pain, and the Red Hood brought her sword around in a wide arc, with such force that it went clean through the man's neck and severed his head off of his body. Olivia recoiled, at the blood that splattered outward and she trembled, feeling a trail of it slid down across her cheek.

"Move!" the Fox barked.

Olivia was jolted out of the fog, and then pain exploded from the back of her skull. It was her quick hand, grasping the nearby pew that kept her from crumpling into a heap on the ground. "Son of a bitch," she said, through gritted teeth and leapt out of the way to dodge the strike of the hammer.

"May I cut in?" La Volpe slipped seamlessly between her and the mercenary.

"All yours," the Red Hood choked.

With a deadly grace and precision of a person who had trained all their life to be lethal, La Volpe moved like music with each strike and dodge a note in the song. She held a healthy admiration for his abilities as well as a great deal of envy, though she would never say that out loud. The mercenary fell to the ground with a blade buries in his heart, and Giovanni swept the last mercenary's feet out from underneath him before he plunged the hidden blade into his neck.

The cathedral went quiet in the aftermath of the battle, and her breaths seemed too harsh and loud in the wake of it. There was a moment where she felt too fragile, like cracked glass that was one second away from shatter and it took all of her willpower to turn away from the blood sight left on the church floor. Her fingers trembled, brushing along the back of her skull and she let out a shaky breath at the feel of blood on her scalp. She only hoped that her skull was not fractured, because there would be no doctor skilled enough in this time to save her if so. "So…killing people in a church, does that add being a heretic to my growing list of attributes?" She commented, latching on to her sarcastic wit like it was a lifeline.

"A badge you will wear with honor, no doubt," La Volpe replied, dryly. His left cheek was swollen with a darkening bruise, and he touched it with a slight wince.

The Red Hood gave a noncommittal shrug.

"As much as I enjoy a good battle," Giovanni commented, wryly. "I do not think we should linger here."

It was if his words had jinxed them, for in the next moment the telltale footsteps and the clinking of armor grew louder and louder. "Guards," the Red Hood whispered out, her eyes darted towards the entryway. "They sent guards after us, too? They really do want us dead."

"Take it as a compliment," La Volpe told her quickly. "Now run!"

Olivia didn't need to be told twice. She pushed herself up off the ground, following the heels of the Assassin and the Fox. The sheer number of guards that entered the cathedral was easily double the number of the mercenaries, and that made the Red Hood say enough curse words to make a sailor blush. She scrambled up the scaffold with less than half the finesse that the two men possessed, but she managed to make it to the top.

"Up there!" A guard yelled.

She rose to her feet, when a throwing knife soared through the air. It buried deep into her back, the pain made her body sway backwards and her foot had nothing underneath it. Her life flashed before her eyes when the Assassin spun around, his hand clasped on the collar of her shirt and stared to pull her upward when his Eagle Vision seemed to flare to life. Everything went still, Giovanni looked torn between being confused and sheer disbelief.

Olivia felt her heart pounding in her chest because she was precariously hanging off the edge of the scaffolding, and the knife in her back was more than little bit painful. Self-preservation told her to bit her tongue, to not say a word to the man who literally held her life in his hand.

"What is the matter?" La Volpe asked, his gaze fixated on them.

There was a moment, where something dark flickered across the assassin's face. Olivia was certain by the way his fingers loosened ever so slightly that she was about to plummet to her death, and the irony that it would be by the hand of someone she was so desperate to save wasn't lost on her. The darkness faded after a great moment, and he blinked hard as if trying to rid himself of a particularly painful headache. He hauled her up the rest of the way to safety, and Olivia went to pull the dagger from her back when he halted her. "It will bleed worse if you remove the blade now," Giovanni ordered, lightly. "Wait until we get somewhere safe."

"You want me to flee with a knife in my back?" The Red Hood asked, incredulously.

"You could stay and chat with them if you find the idea so grievous," La Volpe pointed to the guards who attempted to climb upward.

"Running sounds fine," she said, without batting an eye.

"Good. Now, this way."

Across some questionable boards, La Volpe led them out through an opening in the wall that had yet to be sealed up. Slicing through the thick material to protect from weathering, the unlikely trio found themselves on top of a scaffold that was easily three stories above the ground. The sun was setting and the shade of night was slowly claiming the city, which would give them much needed cover for their escape. "Where do we go from…" Her voice trailed off, when she looked straight down—way down—to make out a hay bale down below. "Oh, no. No, just no. I am not jumping."

"Scared?" La Volpe taunted.

"No," the Red Hood denied, vehemently. "I just don't…think it's in good taste to jump off a building and hope that I land in a tiny bale of hay."

Giovanni and La Volpe shared an exasperated look that made her all kinds of offended. The two were literally have a conversation with their eyes alone, all hand gestures and pointed glares, that was cut abruptly short at the sound of thunderous footsteps behind them. Apparently, the guards had made it up the scaffolding. The Assassin shot her an apologetic kind of smile, and without warning grabbed her arm in a vice grip.

Olivia felt her breath seize in her chest. "No, no, no! Don't you dare! That is way too HIGH!" She screamed the last word, when she was thrown off the side of the scaffold. The world flew around her in a blur of colors, and then with a painful thud, she landed in the bale of hay with grunt. All the air in her lungs had been knocked right out of her and she was pretty sure, her heart burst in her lung. The knife in her lower back was pressed deeper into her body, and the agony seemed to scrap her nerve endings raw. She was mindful enough of the situation to pull herself clumsily out of the cart, and she shakily collapsed to her knees on the cobblestone path, fighting the urge to vomit. Her hands wrapped around her hood, pulling it right to conceal the pale and sickly hue of her face from bystanders.

She was barely aware of the Assassin and Fox making the same jump, until they were right beside her and she flashed them a glare so full of ire that it made La Volpe chortled. She picked herself off of the ground, her legs a bit unsteady and she pointed an accusing finger at the Assassin. "I should kill you," she hissed.

"It will have to wait," the Assassin murmured, darkly.

Olivia followed his gaze, and saw the guard patrol exiting the cathedral. "I take it we run?" The Red Hood suggested, glancing over at the two of them.

"Only a fool would stay and fight," the Fox smirked, and Giovanni returned it as if the two were sharing a private joke. "Now where to run? We cannot just go blindly."

"I know a place that we can hide them out," the Red Hood replied, shifting on the ball of her nervously. "Follow me," she turned and ran as fast as she could.

It had taken fifteen minutes, a few close calls with a couple of guards, before they reach an abandoned and rundown shack—one of the many locations that Olivia used to place cache of supplies for herself if ever needed—and entered through one of the upper windows that had nothing barring the way in.

The Red Hood stumbled forward, her hand reached around to the back to pull free the knife. She choked the sob wedged in the back of her throat like a broken glass, and she dropped the blade to the floor aimlessly. She knelt down on the floor to pull free the floorboard to retrieve the bandages that she had stowed away with some medicine and alcohol among other things. She grasped the bandages with her bloody fingers, and started to carefully work it around her body. It was a shoddy job; the bandage would have been better if she could strip and wrap it properly around the wound, but she didn't have that luxury with her two occupants. When time permitted, she would go to a doctor and have it stitched and bandaged properly.

Grasping the small vial of medicine, she glared at it. She wasn't sure what they put in this so called medicine, but she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to ingest it. Putting the medicine back away, she opted to grab the bottle of ale instead.

The Fox had leaned propped against the wall, closest to the window while the Assassin peeked through the boarded up window on the opposite of the room to keep an eye on the streets. The Red Hood stumbled over to an old rickety chair and settled down into it. "How long do you think we are going to have to hide?" She inquired, quietly.

"Is there somewhere else you need to be?" La Volpe had a mocking smile upon his lips as his violet eyes regarded the Red Hood.

The Red Hood sneered, fiddling with the edge of her hood self-consciously. "Let me see, where would I rather be? Stuck in the dark, with an ass of a fox and an assassin, covered in blood and hay or—"

"There is no need to be contrary," the Assassin told her, with a look. "We have little choice in venue and with the amount of guards," Giovanni spared a glance out the window and watched the squads march up and down the street, "we will have to wait it out here until they move elsewhere."

"What a joyous occasion this will be," La Volpe muttered, sarcastically.

The Red Hood caught it and glowered at him. The Master Thief returned the glower, ten-fold.

"Be civil," the Assassin told his friend. "If it is in your nature to be so."

"Yes, Swiper," the Red Hood innocently agreed. She popped the cork on the ale, and her lips twitched into a small smirk. "Maturity is what we are striving for here. One would think you would understand that concept, giving your…advancement in years."

"Stronzo!" La Volpe barked at her.

The Red Hood laughed.

"Enough," the Assassin's voice was sharp, and filled with exasperation. "Or I will toss you both to the guards myself."

Olivia immediately went quiet. He had literally thrown her off scaffolding, so she wouldn't put it past him to do throw her out of a window if he felt so inclined. La Volpe on the other hand, took a moment to grumble a few colorful words underneath breath at his friend. Dark eyes glared into violet and the Master Thief let out a great sigh before he relented and went quiet.

"This trap worries me," La Volpe turned to the Assassin.

"It does me as well," Giovanni nodded. "I had my reservations before this all occurred, and it seems that now more than ever we need to be on our guard."

Olivia idly sipped on her ale, pretending to not be interested in the cryptic tone of their conversation. She raised a brown when the Fox suddenly turned to her, and warned, "You should be on your guard as well. The Templars appear all too eager to get rid of you." He then added, scathingly, "Like many others."

The Red Hood ignored the jab. "You suspected it was a trap as well. That is why you didn't immediately attack me," she said, trying to gauge their reaction to her words.

La Volpe gifted her with a scornful smile. "You've made no secret of your disdain for the Templar Order. What was it that you compared them, too? Cockroaches, I believe?" The Master Thief smirked, the tiniest hint of amusement in his gaze. "It was our belief that the Templar intentionally planted the information to take out two birds with one stone, by pitting the Assassin and yourself against one another."

Olivia worked her jaw, up and down. "I had hoped to avoid their attention a little bit longer…" the Red Hood took a healthy sip of the alcohol, and let her eyes fall closed while her mind conjured up all different ways that this would be bad.

"I am afraid that won't be possible," Giovanni said, sympathetically.

The Red Hood nodded, gloomily.

"Should you be drinking that?" La Volpe arched a brow when she took another sip.

"Dulls the pain," she replied, with an eye roll. "I've been knocked around too much today for my liking, though I've had worse so I'm sure I'll live."

"What a pity," the Fox said, scathingly.

"Ass." Her comeback was sweet, simple and straight to the point. There was a weight-less, dizzy sensation that weaved around her forehead that made her close her eyes for several seconds until the world righted itself. "Keep it up, Swiper, and you'll find out there's still a little fight in me after all," she added, with a smile that was all teeth.

La Volpe snorted.

Giovanni heaved a put upon sigh. He was probably wondering how he got himself into this situation.

Olivia rolled the tension from her shoulders, with her brows furrowed together. "I can't help, but to wonder how the Templars knew that I had come to La Volpe for aid. Who have you told, you stupid fox?" She demanded, eyes pinned on his back.

La Volpe didn't appreciate being called a stupid fox if the glare he shot her was any indication, but his eyes darted to the Assassin shortly after that. She would have to be a fool to miss the tension in the air, and her heart clenched tight in her chest. There had to be a traitor amongst them, amongst the Brotherhood. Was it Uberto or someone else? She thought, gnawing on her lower lip.

"Have you told anyone?" La Volpe countered, after a moment.

Olivia huffed. "No. I haven't. I don't outsource my problems, often keeping them close to home and deal with them on my own. If anyone's going to screw and get kill because of my mistakes, it'll be me not…" Her hand pressed to her forehead, another wave of dizziness overcoming her. She needed to get out of here. This blood loss was loosening her tongue and she needed to get out of here before she went from sarcastic babble to spilling her guts. She pursed her lips not saying anything further.

A few awkward and tense moment ticked by before La Volpe broke it. The Master Thief stated, "As exhilarating this little adventure has been, I have a thief imposter to catch. And we," he shot Giovanni a look, "a rat to sniff out and answers to find."

Giovanni's expression darkened, eyes as hard as steel. "That we do."

"Good luck. And when you find him, Swiper, make him choke on those florins I gave him, hmm?" Olivia tried for a smirk, but it looked more like a grimace. She took another strong swig of the ale, and then looked at the Fox with a carefully guarded expression. "One last thing…our agreement. Do I still have your help?"

"I will keep to my end of the bargain, as we agreed. Don't forget my price," La Volpe told her, before he vanished out of the window silent as a ghost.

Giovanni peered at her for several seconds, as if weighing something heavily inside of his mind. For a moment, it seemed that he was going to hold back his judgments and slip away into the night when he stopped at the edge of the window, and turned back towards her. "What is that you are really after? A mere thief to be caught up in the Templar's game seems unlikely. There is more to you and your motives than gold coins and a notorious reputation," the Assassin stated, with clarity.

"That is…not a question as easy answered as you might think. It is not because I harbor any ill intentions, but that it is a long and frankly warped tale that I'm still trying to figure out for myself. I'm not sure that I could explain it to anyone else right now," the Red Hood said, regretfully. She had a knuckle white grip on the bottle of ale, and drew in a deep breath. "But I don't think this is the last time that we will meet. Mayhap the next time our paths cross, I have a better idea of what is happening to give you answers to sate your curiosity."

Giovanni conceded, with a small nod. "We will meet again. I can promise you that."

Under the splintered light of the crescent moon drifting in through the opened window, Giovanni dashed away into the night. The Red Hood released a relieved sigh, feeling her knees wobble ever so slightly. "Damn, that man is scary," she whispered out, pinching the bridge of her nose. She was now left shaken and with a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, the today's events all crashing down on her shoulders. What am I going to do, she thought, mournfully.

---

Hooves drummed against the cobblestone path while the Assassin slipped through the shadows, and people scurried away off the darkened street into whatever place would have them for the night. "Why do you follow, La Volpe?" Giovanni demanded, after he swept into a dark alcove. The Fox dropped down off of the nearby scaffolding, with a worried furrow to his brow.

"We must speak."

"About the traitor?" Giovanni asked.

"That amongst other things," La Volpe replied, swiftly.

Giovanni released a sharp breath. He had known the change in his demeanor had not gone unnoticed by the Fox, but he had hoped to avoid an interrogation at this moment given the prospect of a betrayer in their midst. "You wish to ask me about why I hesitated," he said, quietly.

"Yes. As the most starch supporter that the Red Hood could be a good ally, when you saved the thief from a messy fall there was a moment that you were going to let the man fall to his death," La Volpe stated, arms folded over his chest. "I have to question why."

Giovanni wiped the sweat from along his brow. "There was a moment…when I did not feel of my own mind," he admitted, displeasure etched into every line of his face.

"What do you mean?" The Fox asked, alarmed.

"I know not how to describe it. Ever since I stepped into that cathedral, my vision showed the Red Hood as a target or an ally. It was as if the colors were battling with one another, as if something was trying to get me to see the infamous thief as an enemy when she was not," Giovanni whispered out, pinching the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and his thumb. It felt like a darkness had invaded his mind, burrowing deep into his mind and twisted it. It had been a relief when La Volpe had spoken, the sharp command had snapped him out of the spell he had fell under. "And when I stood upon that scaffolding, I felt a sensation as if I were outside of myself and I could feel my fingers begin to let go. If you had not been there, I am not sure I would have been able to stop myself from dropping her where she stood."

"What would be able to manipulate the eagle vision?" La Volpe wondered out, visibly disturbed by the implications. "Do the Templars have a Piece of Eden? Was the trap a way to test its effectiveness?"

"I know not," Giovanni shook his head side to side. "If the Templars had a Piece of Eden, I believe we would have been made aware of it before now, but if it is not a Piece of Eden that was responsible…"

La Volpe's jaw went tight. "I shudder to think what has such power."

Giovanni dipped his head in agreement. "The others will need to be told."

"I will inform them with haste," La Volpe promised. The two parted ways, both grim in the face of the drastic turn that today had taken. Neither could imagine the turns still yet to come.

---

It was an extremely delicate organ, the heart. Leonardo da Vinci was busying dissecting the organ with a careful meticulousness in order to create a perfect diagram, and learn all of the secrets of one of the most vital organs in the body, second only to the mind. With a steady hand, Leonardo peeled back the layers with a skilled precision to make sure to learn all that he could without damaging the organ too much. He had only so many cadavers to work with, given the city finding his scientific research in poor taste so he had to do as much as he could with what he had. He was so lost inside of his work that he nearly missed the soft sound of the door opening and close.

Alarm skirted up his spine, Leonardo lifted his eyes from his work with a suspicious frown settled upon his features. His assistant, Angiolo, would not be here and not at this time of night. There were several unsettling conclusions that immediately came to mind, and his hand clenched around his dissecting knife. It was small and thin, unfit for defense but he had no other weapons. With his breath held tight in his chest, Leonardo moved across the room and made his footsteps as quiet as he could. He edged his way out to the parlor wishing he had thought to the keep the hearth lit so the room wasn't blanketed in darkness.

Leonardo swallowed, heart pounding in his chest. He strained to hear any trace of movement, or breathing. And then, he heard the eerie groan of the floorboard and a rustle of clothing. He whirled around with a battle cry, and his intruder yelped, toppling backwards of something. There was a loud clattered and a thud when a familiar voice yelped, "Shit!"

That curse with the flash of red and Leonardo had his answer. "Olivia," he breathed out, hand over his thundering heart. The artist hurried over to his cupboard and fumbled around until he found the items necessary to light a candle, and he held up to illuminate the room. "What are you doing here?"

The Red Hood pulled her leg free from the chair and set it back up with great care. "I came here…" the thief turned, and then paused at the sight of him. She blinked her blurry gray eyes, sweat beading along her temple and her head cocked to the side. "Why…why are you covered in blood?" Her nose wrinkled. "And smell like road kill?"

"I was working on a corpse before you snuck in here like a thief in the night," Leonardo explained, nonchalantly.

"Oh." Olivia blinked. "And I am a thief in the night," she added before a groan slipped out of her. Her hands shot out, and she steadied herself against the wall as her legs threatened to buckle.

"You're hurt!" Leonardo rushed over to her side. "Sit, sit."

"Yeah, it tends to happen from time to time," she told him, flashing him a weak smile. She collapsed back into the seat, and pulled her hood down off of her head. It had become quite normal for the famed thief to stop by at least once a week to consult or speak to the painter. There were very enlightening conversations and he found himself pleasantly surprised by Olivia's knowledge and outlook on the world. To his surprise, Leonardo found himself a friend in the young woman who seemed to house a wealth of secrets.

"Do you even know how to be careful?" Leonardo asked, heavily. Her armor had been stripped and laid aside while the artist checked the damage of the knife had done to her back. Running with the weapon in her back had not helped matters, the blade had torn the wound wider but it was not a lethal injury which was a case of extreme luck. The knife had been two inches from her spinal cord. He cleaned and sterilized the wound to the best of his ability.

"It's hard to be careful when there are guards after my head."

He glared, and despite being a known pacifist, he had managed to cultivate an impressive glower. He watched her sarcasm melt away into a sheepish blush, and she relented with a slight roll of her eyes. "I will strive to be more careful…mother hen," she accused, a flicker of amusement in her eyes.

Leonardo picked up a clean needle, and lined it with thread. "Now that is something that I have never been called before," the painter stated, with a wry sort of smile.

Livvy grinned, wincing ever slightly due to the split and bruised lip. "I apologize for scaring you. It wasn't my intention. It has been a very…stressful day to say the very least," she hissed when he pressed the needle through her skin and began to stitch up the wound. "I didn't think I could make it home, or to a doctor. You were the only person I could think given the situation."

"Olivia, don't apologize," he scolded her, gently. "My door is always open to friends."

"You might come to regret that offer," she chuckled, wearily.

"Never," Leonardo asserted. He finished up the stitches, and Olivia rested back against the chair. Clearing away his supplies, he found a piece of charcoal and parchment, sitting down in a chair adjacent from her. "Perhaps now you will sit still enough for me to get a proper sketch."

Laughter bubbled up out of her, Olivia smiled at him. She was ever elusive as her alter ego, constantly in motion in such a way that made it difficult for him to capture her entire likeness on paper. "Maybe," she responded, running her fingers through her tangled hair. "Have the guards given you any trouble as of late?"

"No more than usually," Leonardo stated, with a dismissive flick of his finger.

A disgruntled winkle settled along her brow line. "I wish you would allow Luca's men to guard you. He has readily offered his assistance," Olivia said, very quietly.

"There have been a great number of days that I have been tempted by the offer, but you know my fears," Leonardo stated, with a patient smile. His fingers busied bring the charcoal across the parchment, and the candle light wavered in the darkness. "If the guards noticed that I had people protecting my shop, it would only bring more suspicion upon my head. There are many that wish to see my failure, even jailed for my work."

"I understand," Livvy nodded, eyes falling closed and she rubbed them tiredly. "It is just with everything that has happened; I just want to make sure that everyone I care about is safe."

"I know," the artist commented, with a sympathetic look.

Olivia chewed on her lower lip, peeling her eyes open slowly and looked around the room with a crestfallen look. There was an absent of light there, that made her look hollow and lost inside of her own world. "I'm at the end of my rope and I feel like I am slipping. I have been around Florence more times than I can count, hoping to pick up any trace of where he has taken Ciana. Luca and his men have found nothing, and I have even broken down to crawl to La Volpe for help." The column of her neck, trembled with a upset breath and it took her several seconds to fight to keep her composure before she was able to continue. "A week has passed with no notes, no threatens, no insurance that she is alive. And my imagination is running rampant with endless worst case scenarios. What if his intentions were never to lead me into a trap? What if his purpose was to punish me by killing her? She could be dead somewhere and I am just running around—"

Leonardo halted in his drawings, and peered up at her with serious and piercing blue eyes. "Listen to me, Olivia," he interrupted her, with a heavy frown. "You cannot torture yourself with the possibilities, or you will drive yourself into insanity. Whatever your brother has intended, he has gone through a great deal of effort and I do not believe that merely killing Ciana is his goal. His goal is to get to you, to shake you to your core and thus making you what he believes to be a weaker opponent."

"So what would you have me do?" She demanded, jaw taut.

"Stick to your convictions," Leonardo cautioned, his head leaned forward. "Stick to what you know. You know that he has Ciana and you know that you will find her. You know that you will have to face him. You can't allow yourself to be intimidated by this. You can't allow yourself to break now. You can fall apart once the battle is over, but not a moment before."

Olivia chewed on the edge of her nail, fidgeting in her chair before she gave a small shallow nod. "You're right. You always right," she murmured, eyes downcast and shaded with thought. "It feels too heavy, too much, but I can't let that control me. Life is a trial, right? Must be taken day by day?"

"Indeed it is so thought I imagine that it must be even more difficult on yourself than others," Leonardo ventured, picking his words with great care. He had come to many conclusions about the woman in front of him, and his curiosity bid him to learn if there was truth to the absurd notion that was rattling around in his skull. "Given your displacement."

He watched the way she stilled, saw the great number of emotions that slashed across her face until an expressionless mask settled there. It was a very good mask, and if he hadn't been paying attention then he would have second guessed himself entirely.

"What do you mean displacement?"

His parchment and charcoal had been settled onto the arm of his chair, and he made a steeple with his fingers while determining what next to say. "It is a bizarre conclusion I have drawn, but given all of my observations," Leonardo smiled, something akin to sheepishness in his smile. "I have wanted to ask you since I am admittedly curious about the future."

Her mouth dropped open in pure astonishment. Her eyes flared so wide that he imagine they nearly popped out of her skull, and she sat there completely froze like that for a good moment. Her eyes fluttered dazed, and she sat up slowly, burying her fingers into her hair. She asked him, in a voice breathless with confusion, "How?"

"Everything about you is different, your demeanor, your idiosyncrasies, the way you carry yourself. It is nothing like other women I've seen. Even the courtesans cannot escape society's lessons of a woman being subservient. However you…you move with a freedom, a strength of a woman I've never known and it's natural to you. It's just the way you are, but here…" His voice filled with a smile, completely amazed that his outlandish assumption had been proven true. His mind raced with all the questions he would dare to ask, and wondering if he even should. "It is something strange and out of place. You are a stranger in more ways than anyone could have guessed."

"Except you," she whispered. "So my demeanor gave me away?"

"No. There were other things," Leonardo spoke, his eyes glimmering brightly. "There are times that you reference events, and you have to catch yourself before you reveal too much. The other day you spoke about my work for the Medici family, when no one else knew of that yet. Even I was uncertain of their patronage to my works, but you spoke of it as if it had already been written in stone. And in your eyes, it had been."

Cheeks flushed, Olivia looked away guiltily.

"Not to mention the minutiae of daily life escapes you, if not downright confuses you. The price of things or how to light a fire. How one gets in and out of a carriage, or on and off a horse. How you prefer trouser and tunics, and are uncomfortable in dresses. It was a matter of putting all these pieces together," Leonardo finished, his head tilted ever so. His eyes took in the way she rubbed her temples, and could see the stirring of fear that rose inside of her. He felt a stab of guilt for putting such emotions into her.

"So what happens now, now that you know?" Livvy asked, quietly.

"Must it change things?" The artist frowned, his stomach curdled at the thought. "I suppose if I attempted to leverage this against you in attempt to extract this information then that would perhaps change things, but I have no intention of doing that," he reassured her, very earnest in his words. "I understand that foreknowledge of the future can be…dangerous in the wrong hands. My interest in this is purely academic, I have dozens—no, thousands of questions and so many that I am tempted to ask—" He halted his speech, his hands lifted up to his mouth and his fingers pressed against his lips. "But no, it is better not to ask. One should not have knowledge of the future even when I have the unique position of having an individual from there right before me. The temptation...no, it is better to not indulge it at all."

Leonardo was very decisive about this. His inquisitiveness was normally without bounds, but in this moment, it had to be reined in. It was knowledge that would be too easy to abuse, and even with his high moral standards could fall into such a trap.

Olivia stared at him, weighing his words. "But I have knowledge of the future."

"No, you have knowledge of the past which is now your present and your future. I assume this because if you could return home, you would in a heartbeat. Your homesickness and wistfulness shows quite often," Leonardo countered, with a small laugh. "You have no choice in the knowledge you bear, but you do have a choice in what you do with it. I cannot force you to give me answers to questions just for the sake of my curiosity. It would be selfish and an abuse of our friendship."

There was a heartbeat before her expression soften. The warm glow returned to her eyes, and the corners of her mouth turned upward. "Thank you," she whispered out, folding her arms over her chest. "You have no idea what that means for me. Not just this, but your acceptance of this. It was not…" Her voice cracked, the surge of emotion overwhelming her for a moment. "It was not something that I expected, so thank you."

"You are my friend," Leonardo said, with a smile. "Is this not what friends do?"

Olivia gave him a beaming smile in return.

---

In was a bleak and dark morning, where not even dawn had ruptured over the city when the Red Hood had been given an urgent message and she barged into the tavern, skirting through the few drunks still out to the back room of the bar. She raised an eyebrow at Luca who had a glower etched on his face and a dagger twisted between his fingers. His eyes flickered up to her as she crossed the threshold and the relief there was so paramount that it made her lips twitch into an amused smile.

"About time. I was about to slit the insufferable bastard's throat if I had to entertain him a moment longer," the gruff bar owner sneered, a dark look shot towards La Volpe who seemed to appear out of nowhere in the blink of an eye.

The Red Hood stared. "Where do you come from?" She demanded.

La Volpe smirked, a slight roll of his eyes before he glanced over at Luca with a peculiar glance. "I have a way of being where I need to," the Master Thief replied, as enigmatic as ever.

"And you need to be here, why?" The Red Hood asked.

"The information you so desired," La Volpe said, with a bitter edge to his words. "I hope that it was worth the life of one of my men."

Olivia sucked in a harsh breath, her heart plummeting down to the soles of her feet. The shock of the Fox's words had made her feel like she had been plunged into a vat of ice, and she looked away from those sharp and accusing eyes. Those words made it all too real. Her brother was capable of taking a life. Even after the fight they had where he seemed more than ready to kill her—even happy to do, she still had doubt. She still believed that she could reach him somehow, but this news seemed shattered that illusion into a million pieces. "How?" She asked, her voice muted.

"He was strung up like a gutted pig. A note stuck to his chest with a blade," La Volpe informed her, fury rolling off of him in waves. His anger just drove the dagger of emotion deeper into her soul, and guilt made its home there inside of her. "A message for you from your quarry. It seems he tires of the games of cat and mouse."

The Red Hood stared at the bloody piece of parchment clasped tight in La Volpe's grasp, and she reached out with a shaky hand to grasp it. She unfolded it to read her brother's words, how he told her exactly where to meet him and the dark, mental cloud that hovered over her head seemed to crackle with thunder.

"I had half a mind to confront him myself, but this isn't my battle, now is it?" La Volpe stared down his nose at her.

"No," the Red Hood replied, thickly. "It isn't."

"I hope you make him suffer."

"I'm sorry," she apologized, but not sure for what. Was she apologizing for the loss of one of his thieves? Or was she apologizing because she couldn't grant him his request? For all that has happened, if this fight were to end in death Olivia still couldn't make Carl suffer. This wasn't about pain or vengeance anymore. It was something sadder and something that felt so tragically inevitable. "He won't get away with this."

That was all she could promise.

La Volpe gave her a critical once over. "I will hold you to that, Ser Hood," the Master Thief stated, caustically. He made his way to the door, only to linger there for a heartbeat. "We will have to put it behind us one day, Luca."

"So you say," Luca replied, coolly. "But forgiveness is not my charity, and even if it were, I have none to waste upon you."

La Volpe released a suffering sigh, tapping his fingers along his brows before he shook his head side to side. Olivia marveled at how the tension seemed to make the air so thick that it was damn near impossible to breathe, and only when the Fox departed did the room seem to grow tolerable again. She was admittedly curious as to just what bad blood was between Luca and La Volpe, but the sorrow on the weathered man made her bit her tongue. She slid the note into her breast pocket, and told him, "Pull back your men, Luca. I don't want anyone else caught in the crossfire of this…" She paused, contemplating a word sufficient enough to describe what was going on. "This fucking tragedy."

"As you say," Luca inclined his head. "And be careful, Messer Hood. I'd hate to have to replace you."

She gave him a half-hearted smirk. "As if you could."

---

The broken down building was on the outskirt of Florence, on a dying farm where the land seemed to desolate and nothing was able to grow. She approached the building, dressed in a simple tunic and pants. This wasn't about the Red Hood. This was about Olivia, and she had to face it as herself, not with a mask. Every single step forward seemed to take all of her courage, and her lungs were so painfully tight inside of her chest. A mountain of regret led to this moment, and she wondered if someway this was always going to happen. It might not have gone to this extreme, to the point of death and blood, but something wholly as painful. Maybe there was no rectifying the past, only accepting it for what it was and where it had brought them now.

Her childhood seemed so distorted, by her guilt and all the bad things that she found difficulty clinging to the bright moments of good. Carl had been one of the good things, until he wasn't. Had she been blind to how much pain he still heard so tight? Had he been that good at hiding how much he despised her? Her mind struggled to unravel the twisted and mangled knots that was her family history. She stepped through the threshold and into the living space. Candles almost ceremoniously placed lined the floors near the walls, giving the room an eerie glow and Olivia placed her hand upon the pommel of her sword nervously. The door was left open, allowing a draft into the stifling room and the candles flickered ominously.

She followed the candles, like a trail they had been left, down into the cellar. The stairs were old and creaky, the dampness of the earth and soil pungent with the faint trace of days old blood. Her eyes flew open wide when she saw a familiar face, and she rushed over to the courtesan bound and gagged to a chair in the corner. Ciana weakly lifted her head, eyes guarded until she saw it was Olivia standing there. Hope swarmed in green eyes like tears, and Livvy reached out to remove the gag with great care. "Ciana, are you alright?" She asked.

"I'm alive," Ciana replied, through dry and cracked lips. Bruises lined her body from head to toe, and she looked half-starved, but her spirit was still fierce and unbroken. "You know that this is a trap, don't you?"

"With a calling card as obvious as the one left, there was little doubt of that," Olivia said, grimly.

"You know it's considered rude to enter someone's home without giving the host of the party a proper address," a scathing voice interrupted the conversation, and Olivia bristled, sending her brother a glare over her shoulder.

"I think given the circumstances, my lack of manners can be ignored for just once, Carl," Olivia spat, eyes flared with ire. She pulled out a dagger and cut Ciana free, before she rose to her feet to the face him head on. There was a smile on his face that was not kind, but dark with a hint of cruelty. It had no place on his face and seemed so foreign, and again there was that feeling that there was something about this that he couldn't quite grasp.

"I almost thought you were going to ignore my invitation," Carl commented, almost sociable in his mannerism. If it were for the dead eyed stare he had pinned on her and the knife he twirled between his fingers methodically, she would have been fooled.

"I've had better invitations," Livvy replied, caustically. "Ones that don't require blood to be spilt."

"What can I say? I thought a point needed to be made," Carl said, with his teeth bared in a dark grin. He showed absolutely no remorse for the life that he had taken, nor the gruesome display that he had made out of the man's corpse. "I had to make sure the proper message came across."

"That you're a ruthless bastard?" Olivia retorted, blithely. "That message came across loud and clear. Now, let Ciana by so we can finish this, hmm?" A dark brow rose in a silent challenge, as she tried to figure out just what Carl's next move was. Would he keep Ciana here, to force Olivia to defend not only herself but the courtesan, too? Or would this battle be one on one like the many they had fought before?

"Why should she leave? You hold these people so close, call them friends and call them…family," Carl spoke in a scathing voice, looking Ciana up and down like she was something he had scraped off the bottom of his shoe. "And yet you can look them in the face and lie to them day in and day out. Everything about you is a lie, and you don't give an ounce of consideration to those that you fool. Don't they deserve to know the truth about you, Daddy's Little Soldier?"

Her teeth bit down into her lip so hard that it drew blood.

Ciana had went still, eyes flickered between Carl and Olivia warily.

It took Olivia several seconds to find her composure, the sheer amount of anger and bitterness at being called that almost enough to cause her to lash out without thought. Swallowing down the blood, her eyes were diamond bright with fury and cheeks red with indignation. "This is between you and me," she told him, tersely. "It's always been between you and me, ever since our father pitted up against each other in one fight after another. You want to hurt me? You want to punish me? Make me the villain of your story? You can do all that and more, but I don't have to take it. And I certainly don't have to let anyone more people be drawn into the mess that is our past.

"You…sicken me. I see you now and my stomach just turns. The boy who cried when father killed a deer, the boy who would rather stomp on his own foot than hurt a fly, and now you are just this…" Olivia's jaw trembled, her eyes filled to the brim with despair and sorrow. "Someone who cares so less about who gets caught in the crossfire more than he actually wants to get back at the person you blame for all that went wrong in your life."

"Anyone I have killed, their blood is on your hands as much as it is on mine," Carl told her, through clenched teeth. He took a dangerous step forward, with the knife clutched tight in his hand. "You had a choice to walk away, and you chose not to."

"Leaving here was never a choice," Olivia responded, her expression fierce and eyes narrowed. "If I walk away and let things just stay as they are, then that still have consequences outside of myself. Standing by idle doesn't absolve of me, and given all that I know…it brands me as a coward and selfish. And I have been selfish too much in my damn life, I have run away from things so much bigger than myself because I was afraid to let something change the status quo. I was afraid to be pushed beyond the cozy boundaries of my life, but now I see a new world, one that maybe I can make better. People that I can protect and save, and I won't just sit by and not do that. I made my choices and I live with them," she stated, pointing an accusing finger in his direction. "But you made your choices, too. You can't place the weight of them on me, and you will have to learn to make peace with them one way or another."

"You aren't a god, Olivia."

"No, I'm not," Olivia shook her head. "But I am human, and heaven knows I will make many mistakes along the way, but I will never, ever stop trying. You seem to think that there is only one path, one way for things to unfold, but there are always other choices. You can choose to stop this, no one else needs to get hurt and we can both walk away. You have the power to make that choice, Carl."

"Free will is an illusion, sister," Carl intoned, darkly. "She showed me that. She made me see beyond myself, and made me better and brand new. I am stronger and faster, more than what father could ever make me."

She stared at him, jaw set and thrust forward. She didn't know what to make of his comment, or what to think of this mysterious woman that somehow affected him in such a way that it had placed a monster where her brother once stood. "Strength doesn't mean wisdom," Livvy whispered, a twinge of sadness in her eyes. "If you choose to make this a fight, then only one of will walk away and you can't take that back. Once that choice is made, once the deed is done there is no changing it."

"I've already made my choice, Olivia," Carl told her, sardonically. "You are the only one that is trying to cover their indecision with platitudes that you think will sway me."

She went silent, stormy eyes fixated on him. "I just had to be sure."

"Sure of what?" Carl demanded, a hint of suspicion on his face.

"That my brother is really gone," Olivia replied. In the blink of an eye, she lunged forward with a swiftness that took Carl by surprise and shoved him against the unforgiving wall. Candles scattered, wax and embers scattering across the wet earth. "Ciana, go!" She shouted, slamming her fists against his skull with an untamed fury.

Ciana rushed up the stairs without a single look back.

Olivia caught the flash of steel, reeling back just in time to avoid a knife to the gut. It glanced across her clothing, tearing through the fabric. Carl rose to his face, his face a mixture of murderous wrath and charged her with a roar. She ripped her sword from her scabbard, and blocked the dagger he tried to plunge straight through her chest. Like a man maddened by rage, her brother fought with lightning quick strikes, driving her backwards and forcing her to be on the defense. There was an unworldly determination inside of him like a black fire, consuming him slowly from the inside out and Olivia felt terror ping off every single nerve ending from head to toe. She ducked and weaved through his attacked, but there was hesitation in her every motion.

There was a part of her, despite her words that wanted to save her brother.

She slashed the tip of her blade across of his arm, causing him to draw back.

"You are going to die, Olivia," Carl hissed out. "You are going to die and no one will care."

"That's always been your fear, Carl," Livvy told him. "Never much of mine."

Carl sneered, throwing a wild fist at her face. His knuckles glanced off of her cheek, and elbowed him sharply in the stomach. He stumbled back, his leg knocking into a vase and it knocked over, sending a dark wave of black liquid onto the ground. The smell of the oil was overpowering, and in an instant the candlelight touched the oil, flames burst to life with a whoosh. Greedy and untamed, the fire snaked up the steps and ate at the old, dry wood.

Olivia felt a chilling bone deep fear surge through at the sight of the fire. A childhood memory lanced through her with an unforgiving force, of her mother holding her too tightly while the kitchen table that ablaze. Carl took advantage of her stupor and lunged forward, tackling her to the ground. The air was knocked out of her lungs, and she only had a split second to twist her head out of the way of the knife. Carl's other hand wrap tight around her throat, squeezing tight as he could and pulled his knife free from the soil. He jammed it down, and Olivia used her forearm to block, a noise of pain rippled up her throat. He twisted the blade and she let out a scream, bringing her knees up to shove him off of her with all the strength she had.

Bile burned up her throat and she choked on it, while black smoke filled up the room. Nearly half of the stairs were consumed by flames, and Olivia knew if they wasted anymore time then neither of them would escape this building alive. Her sword was clutched in a quaking hand. "Carl, we need to stop," she coughed, blinking her watery eyes. "This building is burning!"

"No," Carl refused.

"Carl—" Olivia tried to speak, but he rushed her forward.

There was sickening sound of metal piercing through flesh, and Olivia found herself staring up into her brother's wide and shocked eyes. It was a heartbreaking feeling that trickled down the back of her throat like ice. The second that her mind caught up to her instincts, and she glanced down at the sword buried into his stomach right beneath his ribcage. A noise between a breath and a sob passed through her lips, her eyes slowly trailing back upwards to see blood pool out between his lips. "Carl," she whispered out, brokenly.

Hot tears rolled down her cheeks, her fingers letting go of the sword like it burned and he collapsed to his knees like that had been the only thing that had been keeping him standing. "So it was to always end like this," Carl breathed out, his hands pulled the sword free as blood dripped out of the fatal wound like a fountain.

"It didn't have to," Olivia sobbed.

His eyes were dull and distance, as if he hadn't heard her at all. "A broken tool…serves no purpose…" Each word said through a labored breath, and rivulets of blood spilt down his chin.

"You were never just a tool," Olivia shook her head. "How can you think that?"

The despondent amusement that filtered across his expression looked more like her brother she had known. "We're all tools in the end…but if I was to die, I guess I'm glad it was you…we've come full circle…" His body pitched backward, falling like a puppet whose strings got cut. It hit the soil with a soft thud, and with one rattling breath, his chest fell still.

Olivia stared at him, unblinkingly and took a single step forward. The lifeless eyes that stared up at her were an image that would haunt her soul until her dying day, and a keening noise tumbled out of her lips. A bleak void had ripped open inside of her heart, creating a vast chasm where only pain existed. It was a moment of pure grief that swallowed her, where she forgot how to breathe and where she forgot all the danger still present around her. Loss was not an emotion that she was unfamiliar with, but one that she had no way of combatting. It was a feeling that she had no way of escaping, and her hands were trembling violently as she reached out towards her brother when a voice cut through roar of flames.

"Olivia! Olivia!"

It was Ciana calling out to her. It was like a fishing line, bright and shining in the murkiness that gave her something to latch onto and her self-preservation surged to life, moving like ants underneath her skin. She stumbled over to the stairs, each step felt like a betrayal to the boy—to the body—that she was leaving behind. Reasons one by one slid into her mind, reminding her that she couldn't breakdown and couldn't just give up here in this cellar where it would be so easy to do so. Reasons that reminded her that there was so much more than herself here, and somehow she fumbled up the stairs, the hair on the back of her neck raised up at the feeling of the steps buckling underneath her weight.

The stairs remained strong just long enough to see her to the top before a couple gave away, and she felt Ciana's hand on her arm like a vice, pulling her towards the entrance like an errant child that could not find their way. Olivia felt her eyes sting with tears, and she wept uncontrollably. "I l-left him," the words tumbled out of her mouth, the entire world a blur around her and she didn't even register until the cold morning air brushed against her skin that they were outside. "I left him behind…I shouldn't have left him. I should have grabbed him, I should have brought him with me!"

"Olivia, the building was burning! There was nothing you could do!" Ciana whispered, her hands gripped her shoulders tightly. "You barely made up the stairs by yourself let alone with a body."

Olivia stared at her, sightlessly. Her expression then scrunched up, a cry expanded up through her chest and she buried her face into her hands. "My…my brother is dead," she wailed, her body shaking with wet and watery hiccups. Her knees hit the ground as smoke spiraled upward into the shining dawn. "I k-killed my brother."

Ciana slowly knelt down beside her, and wrapped her arms around the inconsolable woman in a tight embrace. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," the courtesan whispered, rubbing soothing circles along her back. "But we can't stay here, Olivia. Guards might be here soon, and you are hurt."

"I can't…" Olivia peered at her through red rimmed eyes. "I can't leave him. It was my fault he was all alone. It is my fault that he's…he's dead."

"We'll send some back for him," Ciana promised, gently. "We'll have Luca come get him, alright? Please, please let's get you somewhere safe."

There was a moment where Olivia wanted to fight, but the impulse fell away in the wake of marrow deep exhaustion. She didn't want to think, she didn't want to worry, she was just too tired and spent to do anything more. Slowly, she nodded her head. "Luca…Luca will come get him."

"Yes," Ciana reassured her, tugging the brunette to her feet. "Luca will get him."

Olivia leaned on Ciana, as the pair stumbled back towards the city gates. No one batted an eye at the pair, assuming them to be nothing more than drunkard who had managed to rub enough coins together to buy a night of pleasure. Bystanders pointed at the smoke in the sky, even one woman whispering about how it was a bad omen. Olivia was too dazed to even muster up a biting retort, especially when her heart felt the same way.

"We are almost to the house—"

"Olivia! Ciana!"

Ciana jolted at if shocked, while Olivia just raised her head slowly in a delayed reaction to see Federico jogging towards them. There was a wide grin on his face that fell the closer he drew and by the time he arrived at their side, it had vanished entirely. "What has happened?" He demanded, a hand resting upon Olivia's shoulder and his jaw went taut when she flinched back from the touch. His dark eyes flared, darting towards the courtesan. "What has happened?"

"Please, ser," Ciana said, beseechingly. "Wait until we are in the house. Away from prying eyes and ears."

Federico's lips parted, a sharp word on the tip of his tongue before he thought better of it. He closed his mouth, his lips thinned into a severe line and he nodded. "Lead the way," he said.

A five minute walk made in silence, fractured only by Olivia's labored breaths and occasional sob. The house was small and worn by the years, but she had put so much love into repairing it. Now all that seemed like a hollow endeavor, the home she had envisioned in her mind distorted and wholly wrong. The door closed behind them, and Olivia sank on the makeshift couch, laying down on it. Her skin was cold and clammy, and nausea rolled in the pit of her stomach. She pressed the back of her hand against her mouth, and forced herself to take deep breaths.

"Loosen your tunic," Federico told her, his tone very quiet. "It will help."

Livvy sent him a tired glance, but undid the string of her vest, allowing it to go slack. It did feel a lot better than the tight leathers bound around her, and she shivered lightly, grasping the back thrown over the back of the couch and draping it around her shoulders. Federico grasped her hand in his, drawing her arm out stretched and inspected the bleeding wound on her arm. "That…looks like it will need to be cauterized," he stated, grim-faced.

"That'll hurt," Livvy said, her voice scratchy.

"Olivia," Federico said, in a reproachful tone.

Her lips quivered at the edge's as if she wanted to give him the same taunting smile she always did, but in the end, she just couldn't do it.

"What happened?" Federico asked.

Ciana chewed on her lower lip. "It is Olivia's story to tell."

Olivia didn't want to tell it. She just wanted to let her eyes fall closed and slip into oblivion, ignoring the two pairs of eyes that watched her like hawks. She felt the hand around hers tightened, and she craned her head back to look up at him through her damp lashes.

"Olivia," he said, kneeling down beside the couch. His brows knotted together, and concern written in his deep brown eyes. He looked like he was struggled to find the right thing to say, and then finally he asked, "Do you need anything?"

Livvy bit her lower lip, and gave a shallow shake of her head.

Federico blew out a deep breath, tunneling his fingers through his hair. "Alright. If you think of anything, from something you need me to grab to just lending an ear you can ask it of me. I want to help."

"I know…" her voice was low and raspy. Her fingers squeezed his, and she smiled weakly at him. She felt so helpless right now, like she was drowning and her limbs were too numb to swim up to the surface. "Thank you. And I will tell you what happened, just not right now…"

"I understand," Federico whispered.

Federico sat down on the floor, his back braced against the front of the couch and Ciana tended to the fire while casting worried looks over at Olivia. Olivia stared at the fire, watching as the courtesan placed a blade on the edge of the fireplace. The steel blade slowly bled white hot with each passing second, and closed her eyes tightly.

The road to hell is paved with good intentions.

---

Two long days later, Olivia stood underneath a rainy sky with a freshly dug grave in front of her and flowered clasped in her bandaged hand. A body wrapped with linen laid six feet down and she trembled, the rain pelting down in a steady sheets. She wished she had listened to Luca, and had not seen what was left of the body that pulled up out of the ashes. Guilt had claws deep into her heart, and refused to budge. Questions swarmed through her mind, at least a dozen different ways that things could have been different to the identity of the woman that had turned her brother into the worst version of himself.

Federico stood a few yards away, with Ciana to give a few moments of privacy. Her two friends giving her support without question, and the words that Carl venomously spewed at her rose in her mind. Did she really deserve such loyalty when she couldn't give those that she called friends and family honesty in return? Her chin quivered, while she ran her fingers over the bit of soil in the palm of her hand. "I don't understand why it had to come to this. I don't believe that free will is an illusion. I don't think fate marks us in some grand scheme. I think we choose what path is ahead of us. I just wish we had chosen a different path for ourselves."

Olivia dropped the dirt into the grave, and the workers took that as their signal to start shoveling the dirt back down into the hole. It took several minutes until the grave was completely covered, and she set the flowers onto the grave. "I'm sorry, Carl Lee Steel," she whispered out, her voice barely audible. "I should have been a better sister to you. I will never be able to take that back. I will promise that I will find out who did this to you, who made you into the thing you hated and I will make them pay for it."

Olivia wiped her eyes, scrubbing away the tears before they could fall. She got to her feet and walked towards her friends with her eyes cast down at her feet.

"Who was he?" Federico inquired, lightly.

She inhaled, deeply. Her blue eyes lifted to meet his, and her teeth abused her lower lip for a second. "My brother," she responded, brushing her hair out of her face. She rocked back on her feet, and wrapped her arms around her waist. "The man I just had buried was my brother."

Federico sucked in a harsh breath. "Oh, Olivia…"

"It's difficult. We were close as children as twins are, but that…that changed. There was a lot of hurt and misunderstandings that just made it seem impossible for us to bridge that gap. I had always hoped that someday in some way that we would," Olivia spoke, her voice very faint and light. "I blamed myself for a long time for things out of my control, but this…" Her grey eyes flickered towards the grave and her face contorted with pain. "But this wasn't beyond my control, and now it will never be alright."

"It wasn't your fault," Ciana told her. "Your brother…he wasn't right. Something was really wrong with him. He was sick in the head, and he didn't give you any choice."

"Any choice?" Federico asked, bemused.

Her fingernails bit into the palms of her hands sharply. "He attacked us. I…I had to…" She shook her head, unable to say anything more. Federico said a quiet oath underneath his breath before his arms enveloped her into a tight hug, and Olivia buried her face into his chest.

"You did nothing wrong," Federico whispered, against the crown of her forehead.

"Then why does it feel like I did?" Olivia choked out.

"You have a right to protect yourself," Ciana told her. "You can regret how fair you had to go to protect yourself, you can regret your brother's death, but you did nothing wrong with wanting to protect yourself and live."

Olivia knew she was right. In her heart, she knew, but her mind was making it a very difficult pill to swallow. "I don't know about either of you, but I could a drink," she told them, breaking the hug and mustering up a big smile. It didn't quite reach her eyes, but wasn't entirely fake either.

"I'll buy," Federico offered.

Ciana chuckled. "You'll regret that offer."

"Nonsense."

Olivia and Ciana shared an amused look, looping their arms together. The two women strolled down the street while Federico trailed behind them. All were unaware of the silent observer that watched with a guilt ridden expression from the shadows, and then disappeared entirely as if he hadn't been there at all.

---

END OF CHAPTER

NEXT CHAPTER! Enter Ezio and feathers! Scandal, and possible betrayal? AC 2 is here. :D

This chapter was a massive overhaul from the original chapter. I edited the flow of the chapter, kept it from changing perspective so much and completely changed the battle between Olivia and Carl. In the original what was happening to Carl was revealed and he had absolved Olivia of the guilt she carried onto. In the end, I decided it was too neat of an ending and lacked an emotional impact that Olivia would have to carry with her. I like this edit more than the original and feel satisfied with in a way that I hadn't been with the other. Overall the plot of the full story remains unchanged, but note if you are ahead in FFNET version of this, I haven't updated this chapter yet on there and there may be discrepancies in later chapters that I haven't got to change yet to fit the earlier edited chapters.

Please leave some kudos and comments!