It was not unusual to spot the Grand Master Assassin, Ezio Auditore, wandering the corridors of the Bayezid district in his free time. No matter what location he'd had in mind when he'd set out, he always felt himself drawn to the bookshop…
Because the bookshop was such a comfy little place. Ezio could easily forget who he was when he sat down in that wonderfully plush seat with that daring old tome written by a fellow Assassin, he later learned.
And he had to admit he enjoyed Sofia's company. The young bookkeeper was such a change of pace from the somberness that made up his daily routine, it was almost addicting. He'd always meant to come more often (if anything, just to escape Yusuf's cruel sense of humor), but work would always get in the way…And work was the last thing he wanted to expose his little getaway to.
So today was one of those days; Ezio had begun to wander, allowing his feet to traverse the beautiful streets of Constantinople on their own, when he found himself in the plaza that housed Sofia's shop.
However, there was a new development waiting to greet him. As he approached the establishment's entrance, his eyes fell upon a group of children inspecting the nearest shelf of books. Sofia often kept a few samples outside, to entice potential customers- but it was rare to see someone actually taking the bait, much less a round of visitors this young.
The child who caught his attention was a little girl, five or six tops. She was trying desperately to reach a tome on the higher shelf, boosting herself on the tips of her feet. Her sleeves fell down around her elbows, revealing straining, olive-tinted arms.
Ezio chuckled and walked over, happy to see a little one with such a keen interest in learning. He plucked the book from its place and carefully handed it to the child.
"Is this what you want?" He offered with a smile.
The girl nodded excitedly and grabbed the volume with both hands. A flutter rose in the Assassin's chest when she nearly fell from the weight, but he relaxed when she recovered, stabilizing herself in an amusing fashion.
Despite her minor balance issues, the child still managed to bow respectfully, "Tessekurederiz,efendim!" (thankyou,sir!)
Ezio laughed quietly to himself before answering with a nod, "Diniente,little one." (it's nothing)
The girl gasped suddenly and her eyes widened. The Assassin was alarmed as well, especially when she shoved the book back in his face.
"What's wrong-?" He tried to ask her, but she jumped out of his reach.
She stared at him with an expression of abject horror, and then began to back away slowly.
"Sf…" She whispered, "Sfarad!" (Spaniard!)
Ezio furrowed his brow, "What?"
But the little one had nothing more to say to him. She turned on her heels and stumbled away as fast as possible.
That week's visit to the shop was not as restful as he'd imagined. When Ezio entered, he was disappointed to find Sofia busily scribbling at her desk. She hardly acknowledged his arrival, only assured him that she'd be with him in a moment. Ezio sighed and picked up his copy of Alighieri's work, resigning himself to a lonely hour in his chair.
However barely ten minutes had gone by before Sofia interrupted him.
"Alright," She said softly, "Something is bothering you."
Ezio snapped the book shut and leaned back. He couldn't help a wry smile, "Nothing escapes you, I see."
"You'd better just tell me," The librarian tsked, "I'm not going to sit here and guess." She paused before adding, "…For too long."
"Fine, if you so wish to know," Ezio sighed deeply, "I believe I frightened one of your customers earlier."
"What happened?"
"A small child, a girl. I helped her pick out a book, but when I gave it to her she ran away weeping."
Sofia's gaze lowered to her desk, and she folded her hands in her lap, "I see…"
"Sofia, do you know this bambina?" (child/girl)
The redhead laughed humorlessly, "I know many of her kind."
Ezio tilted his head to the side curiously, which drew further explanation:
"Ezio," The librarian inhaled before looking at him sadly, "That child…She comes from a family of refugees that live down the street from me."
"Refugees?" The Assassin repeated, "From what?"
Sofia's gaze returned to her lap, "From Spain. I don't know much, but… From what she has told me, unspeakable things are happening there."
"You've spoken to her?"
"Si,on many occasions," She nodded, "But whenever she hears Italian, she becomes distressed. She mistakes it for Spanish."
Ezio considered. For the past decade, he had been sending his pupils to Spain, evacuating many victims of the Inquisition. Many, but apparently not enough. He had not seen the carnage firsthand, but the reports he received from his students were… gruesome, to say the least.
How could such an ordeal have slipped his mind?
"I understand," He answered finally.
"It is such a sorry state of affairs," Sofia sighed, picking up her quill and returning to her work, "But I've found that reading with the children can…relieve their torment, if only a few pieces at time. The older ones are still afraid of me."
Ezio nodded solemnly. Sofia fell silent after that, and he found he no longer had the stomach for Alighieiri's poems.
[xxx]
It was another week before Ezio could find the time to return to the old trading post. As he walked into the square, he noticed the girl outside once more, poking around the books. She had her eyes set on a tome at the top of the ledge, and the cogs in her head were deciding how best to retrieve it. Ezio quietly slipped past her into the shop.
Sofia was rearranging the couch when he stepped in, but he put a finger to his lips when she made to greet him.
"Labambina," He whispered, "She's out there again."
"So?" Sofia raised her brows, laughing at the sight of the old man hiding from the little girl.
Ezio turned to her with a grin, "I'm going to need your help for something."
[xxx]
Yafa couldn't decide. She liked the one with the pictures, but the other one had beautiful handwriting. Though she was young, Yafa had always found herself partial to pretty handwriting- swirling letters, perfectly round dots, and thick pen strokes were her favorite qualities. Her father had the best penmanship in the world…But she didn't like to think about that.
The real issue at hand was the fact that they were both beyond her reach. She had already considered climbing, and the last time she'd tried (two days ago) the entire shelf had nearly collapsed on her. However this time, she'd brought a stool…
The dark haired girl was about to put her plan into affect when someone called her name.
"Yafa," She turned to meet Sofia, who approached her with a bright smile. The librarian bent down to the child's level, resting her hand on her knee. "Can I help you with something?"
Yafa thought for a moment. She liked Sofia; Sofia was quite nice. She would trust Sofia, and so responded positively to her question.
"Harika," (excellent) Sofia replied, "Now, which book would you like?"
Yafa placed her finger in her mouth and sucked. She found this method to be most helpful when trying to solve a dilemma. Finally, the book with the pretty handwriting won out, and she indicated as such to her teacher.
"Ah, a good choice," Sofia agreed, climbing to her feet. The bookkeeper strained herself, but couldn't seem to reach the top ledge. The longer Yafa watched, the more worried she became. Sofia had been able to reach all the books before, what had changed?
"Sofia," She pulled on the older female's skirt, forced to eject her finger from her tongue, "Mahabaaya?" (what's wrong?)
Sofia shook her head, looking down on the child apologetically, "I cannot reach, hamudi (sweetie). But give me just a moment; I will get help."
Yafa watched her friend disappear into the bookshop. The immigrant waited patiently for a few seconds, but grew restless when Sofia did not return immediately. She began to kick at the dirt, pace, and eventually turn in circles. It seemed like years before Sofia reappeared.
Sofia beckoned again, and Yafa excitedly ran to her. But her happiness faded when she recognized the stranger…
Yafa's breath hitched in her throat, producing a ragged gasp. Fearfully, the child grabbed Sofia's hand and ran behind her skirts, squeezing both eyes shut.
"Yafa," Sofia laughed, "He isn't going to hurt you!"
Confusion raced through the six-year-old's mind. He wore a hood, like the men from the church did. He had a beard, like the old man at the church did. He spoke Spanish, and he had an air of danger around him. Clearly this man was not to be trusted.
Bewilderment made way for determination- Yafa had to protect Sofia!
"Sofia, run away!" Yafa shouted, sprinting as quickly as she could while dragging her mentor's hand.
However, she hadn't expected her sandals to leave the ground and her waist to be ensnared by two large hands. When Yafa opened her eyes, she was staring into the gentle face of an elderly man.
Her first instinct was to panic, but his embrace was not a threatening one. The hooded stranger hushed her, and she slowly began to calm down.
"Yafa," Sofia tried again, placing a hand on the tall man's shoulder, "This is my friend, Ezio. He is from Italia.Not Sfarad." (Spain)
"I…taliyah?" Yafa imitated, almost curiously.
He smiled.
"Evet, From Italia." (yes)
Finally, Ezio replaced Yafa on her feet. Sofia offered her hand to the girl, who accepted it in a sort of shell-shocked haze.
"I believe," Ezio cleared his throat and removed a large square object from behind his back, "You wanted to see this."
Yafa dropped Sofia's hand and grabbed onto the tome gleefully, flipping through page after page of beautiful script. But how had he gotten it while he was holding her?
"Why don't we take that inside?" Sofia suggested, patting her small friend on the back. Yafa nodded and raced to the shop's door. She stopped to turn and wave at her new friend before heading in. The hooded man smiled back, glad to have been accepted.
"Looks like you've made a new acquaintance," The librarian joked as she returned to her study.
Ezio chuckled quietly and followed his companion inside, glad to have something other than Alighieri to focus on tonight.