Assassin's Creed: Reclamation of Shadows

Taste of Sacrifice

The small cracks and ledges slipped from under his boots, more than once almost tossing him unceremoniously back to the ground far below. Ezio let out an impatient breath, stopping halfway up the rain-slicked wall and hoping silently that Fiora would not go far. He did not wish to lose her, but he could not risk hurrying, not in this weather, where simply missing a handhold would tempt death.

The wound to his flank – bled open twice now, by bullet and blade – did not bother him thanks to Tessa's medicine, but he flinched instinctively each time it stretched, knowing he was only doing more damage to it as he could not feel the extent of the injury. Ah, his body would fail him when it was most inappropriate, he was sure.

It took a slight struggle, but he finally stilled between two of the ramparts crowning the guard tower's peak, just able to hear the reverberated voices below him as they spilled out of the arched entryway. He adjusted the Apple securely against his side, widening his stance to keep his balance, and tuning out the sound of rainfall on the battlements stretching before and behind him.

"I-I have not betrayed you, padrone." The tone was plaintive and trembling, though tight determination rang audibly behind it. The Assassin cocked his head, peering past his water-soaked hood at the shadows painted onto the floor; the guttering torches within the watch tower casting the three dark figures clearly onto the puddles and stones, and allowing Ezio to watch them, even from outside.

"How can you say that after your thieves killed my men just feet away?" Cesare demanded, his anger shrill and roiling, and the hand upon his brandished pistola near trembling from the emotion.

"Please, padrone… this is the Assassin's ploy, I'm sure of it." Fiora's voice was soft but insistent, the honest concern for her fellow agent clear as she came between the two men, reaching out to push the gun to one side. However, her further attempts to sate her master's temper were cut short by a cry as she was struck rather harshly across the cheek, and knocked backwards through the arched gateway, into the rain.

Ezio tensed, realizing that he was in plain sight to her from that angle, but as the courtesan looked up slowly to glance at the white figure perched upon the edge of the tower, she only met his gaze calmly, making no attempts to speak out a warning. The honeyed eyes seemed tired, a thread of sorrow within them.

The nobleman frowned at her, thoroughly confused at he outward drop of guard, only watching as she finally straightened unsteadily, a sleeve pressed to her bleeding lip.

"Cesare," she spoke firmly, her voice admirably clear, and a touch insolent. "If… If you are to blame anyone, it should be me. Had I kept a closer eye on Lanz, this would not have happened. Though… though I cannot say I blame him. There is only so much you can ask of your servants before something breaks."

The Captain General paused to look at her as she stood her ground upon the castle wall, a rather defiant stance that he evidently noticed. His shadow shifted, signaling that he was pacing rather threateningly towards her.

Ezio's brow furrowed as his eagle spirit raised a fervent cry, it sighting its prey in easy reach below him. Cesare's dark cape whipped sharply in the winds, marking an inviting target, but still the Assassin hesitated. Why would Fiora wish obvious death upon her own master? There was little doubt that it was a trap.

"If you are referring to Malfatto," Cesare's answer was spoken lightly, but his amused grin was false and rather fixed, his words almost lost in the flurry of the storm. "I would remind you that you did that on your own accord at the time. I own you now, Fiora, just as the Solari once did. I find it rather ungrateful of you to complain after I've been taking care of you for so long."

The courtesan lifted her chin, her expression rather blanked, but her eyes flickering, just for a moment, over the Captain General's shoulder. Though Ezio was quite a height above them, even he could read the signal passed to Lanz, a plea for him to run; and perhaps, that was her mistake.

The footpad managed a few steps in the opposite direction, the tentative tread of a whipped dog unsure if flight or stillness would be the better option, but it was not nearly enough. The eagle stood, for a moment considering stopping the act, but he could not chance a missed strike, not even for the rather pitiful Templar's life.

There was no feeling as Cesare shifted calmly on the spot, his gray eyes not leaving Fiora's own wide ones as he lifted his arm behind him, and fired a single shot into the guard tower. The explosion of the discharge mingled with the thunder, and the soft fall of the body was not heard.

"Now look what you've done, Fiora. See, you've killed him," the Captain General admonished levelly, still not looking back as the courtesan took a shivering step away from him, hands clasped to her mouth to keep back either a sob or a scream of rage.

The emotions were written with such clarity in her eyes, almost reminding Ezio of a young lady past, whose own gaze had also held that same mirror.

Again, his decisions were made for him, and the Assassin wryly wondered if he would ever stop sentiments from getting the better of him. If there was something that Mario had never stopped badgering him over, it had been that.

Ezio pulled in a breath, balancing upon the air for the briefest of moments as he watched the Templar lift his pistola for another shot, as Fiora only stared upon her supposed master with such condemnation. His eagle's senses picked up the minutest details of movement in this heightened state, allowing him to read his target even with the rain and the distance. With his blade ready, he leapt.

He was barely a flash of white in the water-choked air, but perhaps fate had other plans, for just as he dove, lightning ripped the sky, flickering the shadows, and calling Cesare's attention to the one descending upon him from behind. The Captain General turned, the wheel-lock gun raised defensively, but he did not have time to fire as the eagle's talons fell upon him.

The Templar cried out, though Ezio bit out an oath in frustration as his strike missed its mark, burying deep, but into shoulder instead of spine. The force of the blow carried them both into the ground, and they tumbled apart, wet armor scraping shrilly against the equally wet stones. Writhing upon the ground, the Captain General just managed to yell out an enraged accusation at Fiora's back as she fled, slipping upon the puddles and vanishing – wisely – from sight.

The nobleman slid and kicked out against the nearby wall to swiftly halt his momentum, springing to his feet and charging his enemy just as he was trying to steady his stance. Cesare barely caught his blade arm, suffering a rather painful wound to his hand, but struggling to hold him back nonetheless.

The younger man's face was inches from his own as they grappled, and Ezio snarled quietly, fighting to bring his blade even a shade closer to his throat. However, the Templar's struggles were indignant and panic-stricken, a powerful mix. Changing tactics, and staring rather threateningly into the other's narrowed eyes, the Assassin suddenly fell back a step.

Not expecting the shift, Cesare stumbled, his misstep sloshing up rainwater in waves; and the eagle easily took advantage of the opening, throwing him back against the rampart wall. He struck him finally, but only heard his eagle hiss in lashed irritation as the blow was deflected, leaving only a nick upon the armor collaring his target's neck.

Even as Ezio recovered his footing for a second attempt, the Captain General took the moment to retaliate, drawing his rapier and sweeping out at him. Though his attack was somewhat slow and wearied, Cesare had evidently seen his bloodied robes, and the eagle recoiled defensively, bristling as he evaded the strike to his injured flank. The edge tore into cloth and leather, but did not graze him.

He caught the next blow against his bracer, forcing the sword away as he closed the distance between them again, this time aiming his hidden blade higher, and into the narrow gap of exposed flesh. However, Cesare was suddenly lit with a renewed strength, and the Assassin had only a moment to wonder why, before he felt the familiar weight leave his side, snatched from the pouch that had been laid open with the rapier strike.

The eagle of him screeched its alarm, and though Ezio reached forward to reclaim the artifact, the Captain General lashed out – more in panic than with forethought – driving the rounded metal powerfully against his wounded ribs. A cry tore from him, and he staggered back, gasping in his next few breaths as Cesare retreated from him as well, towards the corner of the battlements.

However, the Assassin only took spare seconds to recover, and lunged forward once more as soon as he did, anger fueling his strike. His gaze was fixed upon the fear in the gray eyes as he leapt, only distractedly noticing the bloodstained Piece of Eden brandished at him, but the next moment, a flash of gold.

Much like the throes of a panicked beast, the Apple responded in a flare of light; brief but powerful, a breathed show of strength. Ezio grunted as he was thrown backward, tumbling against the ramparts in a splash of crimson-tinted water.

He snapped a curse as he struggled to regain his feet, seeing clearly that Cesare was just as startled as he that the artifact had reacted to him at all. The Captain General turned the silver orb slowly in his hand as he looked upon the beads of blood lining its crevices, a rather sickening grin tugging at his lips.

The Assassin had barely steadied himself against the castello battlements, hearing the Tevere roar below as it swelled with storm rain, when Cesare rushed him with an air of near-madness. Ezio pulled in a sharp breath as a rapier edge was pressed suddenly to his throat, and the cold surface of the Apple to his cheek.

"So that's your secret," the Templar hissed, his voice catching with fatigue and dark excitement. "Fiora was right, this artifact answers only to you – though it seems that an offering of blood will sate it just the same."

Dark eyes narrowed in useless fury as he felt the incorporeal chains winding into him again, faint but just enough to hold him. Cesare was chuckling quietly, almost manically, his sword beginning to dig into the eagle's throat.

"Luckily for me you have plenty to spare."

Author's Note: Just a theory, but seems plausible to me. All the Apple really needs is DNA.