here we have part 14 of desmond's story

this chapter was a bit hard to write, trying to fit things in without just throwing the words together haphazardly lol, though i think i did well enough?

things are definitely starting to pick up! here we get to the (start) of the stuff i've had in mind since practically the start of this story lol. it might not be what anyone else wants to read or expects, but remember guys, this story is still ridiculously self-indulgent. though i hope you're all having fun as i go

That night, Desmond found himself with Altair.

He looked around and saw that Altair was once again alone, though he wasn't on their usual parapet. No, they were in the Library, at the top where the Mentor's open office was situated. The idea of it was that the Mentor was never locked away from the people they led, and that they were in easy access to the knowledge that they were to teach others.

Even so, it felt constricting. Desmond wondered if that was the weight of the Order that now rested on Altair's shoulders. Their plan to make him Mentor was a long one, and to have it suddenly thrust on him years before they planned for it would be hard normally, nevermind after such a betrayal. Now Altair had an Order that looked to him not just for leadership and strength, but for stability and the drive to push forward.

Altair wasn't going through the paperwork like he had been, double checking all of the records to see what Al Mualim had done to the Order without their notice, helped along by Malik and the others. Altair stood at the window, overlooking the valley at the back of the castle.

"Altair," Desmond greeted softly, and stood beside him. He grabbed Altair's hand, and leaned against his shoulder.

The change in Altair was still new, and they were all still tired. They'd move past it of course, but until then they leaned into each other more than they normally did.

"Desmond," Altair returned. He turned golden eyes on him, and Desmond met his gaze.

His eyes were never going to return to the light brown they used to be. At least, not for them, who had the second sight to perceive the color change. But as Altair rested and time passed, the color settled into a more natural gold instead of the one with the inner glow. Enough so that even Malik and Rauf, who did not have Eagle Vision, were starting to notice the change. That Elise didn't need to borrow their second sight to see if they were using theirs.

Altair's eyes were literally changing color, not just metaphorically.

Altair's second sight was no longer his second sight. They didn't know whether to be terrified or not yet, unused to such an extreme change within any of them. Either way, they'd deal with the change like they handled everything else.

"How are you feeling?" Desmond asked.

He knew, or he could find out, but much of their mental health dealt with talking with each other. It was when they couldn't speak about it that they started properly worrying.

Altair smirked lightly, but he sighed heavily after a long moment. "Exhausted, but that goes without saying," he said wryly.

Desmond snorted. "No shit, really?"

Altair leaned back into Desmond in amused reprimand. "...strangely content," he admitted.

"How so?" Desmond asked. Because there was more to that than just what Desmond thought Altair was saying.

"I feel victorious," Altair said slowly, thinking it over. "I faced an enemy and reclaimed my territory from them, and protected my people. We are recovering well from the damage caused, and what illness remained is being rooted out."

Desmond hummed. "Well, that's definitely something to be content about," he allowed, "but it's more than that, isn't it?"

Because Altair had already explained what he had figured out earlier. That the Apple had reached out to him, testing, and found him acceptable. They still weren't certain what, exactly, that meant, but they knew to keep an eye on both it and each other. With the Animus, they already figured out it was literally engraved into Altair's blood- or rather, his DNA. Which was also incredibly worrisome as well.

"...we always ascribed our second sight, our Eagle Vision, to the eagle that lives within us, and shares with us its sight," Altair started, as if testing the words themselves.

"Yes," Desmond agreed.

It didn't have to be an eagle, really, but they associated themselves with eagles above all other animals. Ratonhnhaké:ton was the first of them to reach for the bird within, as he nestled atop the trees, high above the ground where they all felt the most comfortable.

They already had their second sight, but becoming aware of the eagle within their minds was like an evolution of it. It made sense that they started calling their second sight Eagle Vision after the animal they most associated with it.

"There is no eagle," Altair said simply.

Desmond blinked at him, and then raised his eyebrows. "That probably didn't sound the way you wanted it to," he said wryly. "Explain, please?"

Altair exhaled sharply. It wasn't irritation, just a loud thinking noise. "It- our second sight, our Eagle Vision, it's such an abnormal sense that it is like there is another consciousness attached to it. Not sentient, or sapient, but as if it had its own direction of thought."

"Yes," Desmond agreed.

When they focused and consciously chose to pay attention to things, it was as if they were using their own senses regardless. But if they were to just activate their Eagle Vision, it would almost work without any conscious input. The colors would guide their senses and their eyes to whatever they needed.

For the most part, their Eagle Vision was like the culmination of all of their senses, amplified, and it worked as such. Other times, it was like there was someone, or something, that nudged them in the right direction.

"But there is no one else. Nothing else," Altair said. He raised his free hand to rub at his face, looking thoughtful. "It's just- me. I watch the world in colored smoke, and have wings that lead me to you. The eagle that once existed within my head doesn't react to outside influence any longer. I do."

"Oh," Desmond said softly. The thing was, that made sense. They were so used to switching their Eagle Vision 'on and off' that having it constantly on would be kind of overwhelming. Altair would be distracted if he was dealing with overstimulation. Desmond smiled, and nudged Altair with his elbow. "Well, we already knew you were an eagle in human skin."

Altair snorted. "Yes. It's just- strange, and something I need time to get used to. But also, I don't feel wrong, or even different. I am Altair, son of Umar and Maud. Nothing has changed about me, except that everything has."

"It's a mental thing?" Desmond offered. "Is that why you feel- kind of separate, from us? Like you're standing further away?"

Altair made a face, confused. "I feel that way?" he asked.

Desmond looked at him, eyebrows raised. "Yeah. We thought you were ignoring us at first."

Altair stared at Desmond incredulously. "Why would I ignore you?"

"That's what we thought!" Desmond exclaimed, "It's why we realized that something had changed after we defeated Al Mualim."

"...I see," Altair said, frowning in thought.

Desmond studied him. "So, you don't feel that you're standing apart? Or, as apart as we ever get."

Which was to say, not at all. Most of the supposed disconnect between the eight of them was rather flimsy, all told. The fact that they were eight separate people with different personalities and characteristics was a result of how stubborn they were individually.

Altair shook his head. "No. We feel as connected as we always do. In fact, it almost feels like we are closer than we were."

"You don't sound so certain about that," Desmond said.

Altair sighed. "I don't know how to explain it. It honestly might just be a mental thing, with how heavily we are all leaning on each other right now."

"That's true," Desmond said.

With how stressful the past few weeks had been for… quite a few of them, actually, they relied on each other to keep afloat. Especially with the most recent events, regarding dealing with the Animus and Al Mualim.

Like Ratonhnhaké:ton had said, they were all probably going to have a breakdown sooner instead of later. They could only put it off dealing with it for so long.

"You'll figure it out," Desmond said. He looked out the window. It was a really nice view, wasn't it? "In the meantime, you need to go to bed."

"Do I have to?" Altair asked.

"If you're asking me that, then you really definitely have to go to bed," Desmond said amusedly, nudging Altair with his elbow again. "Come on, I still need sleep too, and we can pull in the others. I'm sure they'll appreciate everything you just told me."

Altair rolled his eyes, but followed Desmond as he led him to his room. Kadar would be there, and then Altair would definitely sleep. Malik probably also needed some company and some proper rest. He worked as hard as Altair, but didn't have the benefit of having other people in his head to share the burden.

"You'll figure it out too," Altair said softly.

Desmond sighed. Altair wasn't the only one with sudden responsibilities over Assassins. "Yeah. We both will."

0o0o0

Desmond stretched in the white expanse of the Animus loading screen. He didn't need to go through the motions, really, but this place was powered by the mind as much as it was by the programming. He was about to do something taxing, so he'd best stretch to prepare for it.

At least he looked like himself for the moment. It would be changing soon enough. Desmond was to enter whichever memories of an ancestor that Rebecca and Lucy found. He had the inkling that it would be Ezio, since he was the one that Desmond last entered the memories of, but it could be literally anyone.

...he was morbidly curious to see who of his other selves he might be descended from, because he felt like Rebecca and Lucy could find that out for him, but it was a double edged sword. Did he really want to know?

Aveline stood next to him, stretching as well. She had free time today, and would be the one to see how they interacted with this new Animus. They needed to figure out if Desmond needed them to help him move forward like before. Hopefully not. They had faith in Rebecca and her skills. If someone needed to remain with Desmond, it shouldn't be as involved as it was in Abstergo.

"Alright, Desmond," Rebecca called from her place at the top. "We found the memories we were looking for."

"Who is it?" Desmond asked.

"Ezio Auditore da Firenze," Lucy said.

Desmond and Aveline made a face at the pronunciation. It was recognizably Ezio's name, but Lucy's accent was… off. Maybe they were being a bit too judgmental? Not everyone had the ability to share languages. Or the correct accents, since Italy was still separated into city-states during the sixteenth century.

"Ezio Auditore da Firenze," Desmond corrected, though. At least he knew what to expect with Ezio, for the most part. He was a little less private in his affairs compared to Altair, for all that they didn't care much regarding each other. "I've got an Italian ancestor, huh," he added, to cover his bases.

"You do," Rebecca said cheerfully. Much too cheerfully for this early in the morning. But that might just be a ploy, since Desmond had watched her chug the coffee and redbull mix without flinching. One of the most horrifying things Desmond had seen recently. "A pretty famous one, too. He's one of the ones they mention when they're training new recruits, alongside Altair."

Desmond and Aveline shared a glance, eyebrows raised. They knew that, since they lived several centuries after Ezio. But what they knew, and how they interpreted history, was different than how others did.

"Give me a rundown?" Desmond requested.

"Ezio, alongside Altair, are considered two of the most historically important Assassins today," Lucy said. "I'm surprised you don't actually recognize the name."

"I recognize him now that you mention him," Desmond said, "But I know an Ezio, so I suppose I just… didn't bother to remember."

Like hell he actually forgot. Desmond was willfully ignorant, though. Besides, it was oftentimes hard to associate the legendary Mentor of the Brotherhood and founder of the Order of Assassins as it led to the modern day with… Ezio. One of his other selves.

They were making plans now regarding Ezio becoming Mentor, just as they had with Altair, but when Desmond was at the Farm? Nope. Ezio hadn't learned of his family's association with Assassins until after Desmond left. Therefore, they just didn't bother with any of it.

"You know an Ezio?" Rebecca asked curiously. "It's not really a common name, nowadays. Assassin or otherwise."

"Yes," Desmond said simply. Let them draw their own conclusions. They wouldn't believe the truth anyways. "Remind me, then?"

Here, Hastings stepped in. "Ezio Auditore, one of the most important Assassin figures in history, even if there's practically no mention of him anywhere else. Par of the course regarding any Assassin, really, so it's not a surprise."

"It is one of the tenants," Desmond pointed out, amused.

"Indeed," Hastings agreed dryly, "Ezio was the Mentor of the Italian Brotherhood, and it was through his efforts that a lot of the key cities in Europe came under Assassin control for the next couple of centuries. He and his family ushered in what is commonly regarded as the Golden Age of Assassins."

"Wow," Desmond said, with feeling. Laid out like that, and it seemed a lot more impressive.

"Well, we have something to strive for at least," Aveline mused, "Though would it be placing too large of expectations on him when we already know he's going to do it anyways?"

"Yeah, we're ignoring the time travel aspect of it," Desmond told her privately. "Too much of a headache." Aveline nodded in agreement.

"We also know that he came into contact with several Pieces of Eden," Lucy said, "Though they're not what we're looking for here. Besides, if the Pieces affected Ezio just as they did Altair's genetic memory, then those memories might be locked anyways."

"And we're not doing that to you," Rebecca said, "We're just going for what we need, and nothing else, promise."

"That's good," Desmond said. He felt relieved despite himself.

"The Templars did consolidate in Italy and the Vatican, as evidenced by their power within the actual Templar Knights during Altair's time," Aveline pointed out, "It makes sense that there would be numerous Pieces of Eden located in Italy."

"So, you're putting me in Ezio's memories?" Desmond asked. "You have a time period in mind, or do I get to figure it out as we go?"

"We've found several memories that include free-running," Lucy said, "Which you're already decent in, so it's a good starting point."

"There is one thing," Rebecca said, and she sounded hesitant.

Desmond frowned. That didn't sound good. "What?"

"It's like there's a lock on all of his memories that go through one point first," Rebecca said, and Desmond distantly heard her typing on her keyboard. "I guess it was such a pivotal point in his life that literally everything we want access to sort of deals with it."

"I heard that trauma does that to a person," Hastings said dryly, "But- yes, it's a memory that I believe shaped how Ezio viewed himself and the world around him."

"Yup. What memories we can access are either too early, or so late in life that we'd get nothing worthwhile from them," Rebecca said. A pause, and then she said amusedly, "unless you're that interested in what Ezio's retirement was like."

Desmond and Aveline shared a glance, uneasy. What? There wasn't much of anything too terrible in Ezio's life, was there?

At least, not in the life they shared so far. It might be later, but that wouldn't make sense, either. If Lucy was serious about putting him in memories where Ezio went running over the roofs of Italy, then there'd be memories before his 'now' concurrently to them. All eight of them learned from La Volpe.

Though the mention of retirement was something to keep in mind. Jun had met Ezio before, but those memories were sort of… well, they were memories they forgot, much of like everything that could alter how they lived their lives in their individual present. Those that knew of Ezio through history could remember more of it, especially Desmond since he was the furthest ahead of the eight of them, but even then it was hazy.

Most of what they remembered was Ezio's wife and his children. The love that Jun saw on Ezio's face sort of echoed through all of them, which made them that much more intent on finding his future love. Desmond wouldn't mind going through the genetic memory, even briefly, for more of a hint on that.

"So, I have to go through this memory to do anything else?" Desmond asked, uneasy. Aveline reached out to take his hand. Neither of them wanted to watch Ezio go through something supposedly so horrible.

Though why they wouldn't know it already was worrisome. That way led the idea that they forgot about it, even beyond what they normally did. Which meant that they couldn't do anything about it. And that was probably even worse than just going through the memory in the first place.

"Yes," Lucy said, and she sounded regretful. "But we'd rather start with Ezio, since we already have access to his memories. We could search for other ancestors, but we're going for the easiest possible path first."

Desmond took a breath. The only way they would see what would happen would be to move forward. "Alright then. How do we do this?"

"Well, we're going to place you in the loading screen first of all," Rebecca said, "get you acclimated to Ezio's skin."

"I thought this was the loading screen?" Desmond asked.

He and Aveline made a face at each other. Yeah, the Animus was enough like a video game that words like skin popped up, but there was something very… not right about referring to Ezio as a skin. Even if it fit, in more than one way.

"Nope, this is more like a waiting room," Rebecca said, "The programs used to put you into memories aren't loaded, so there's no need for the loading screen."

"Makes sense," Desmond said.

"So, we're going to switch you over to the actual program. I honestly have no idea how that's going to be in the moment, but it shouldn't be a problem," Rebecca said.

Desmond made a face at the sky. "I am so glad to be your guinea pig," he said dryly. Still, he didn't bother with anything more. If Rebecca was trying it out on him, then it was safe enough to use. She wouldn't stand for anything less.

"You should be!" Rebecca said cheerfully, "Much more humane than anything Abstergo does, right?"

"Sure," Desmond said amusedly. Not that was hard, mind.

"Alright you two," Lucy said, somehow sounding both exasperated and amused, "We're going to get started now. In three, two, one…"

The blank white expanse didn't change visually, though he did notice a slight ripple. Desmond blinked, and he found himself in Ezio's body. No, not actually Ezio. The skin. A virtual representation of him, especially considering that he was shorter than he remembered.

"He must've been sixteen or seventeen for this memory," Aveline said, frowning. She thumbed the scar on her lip, which both Ezio and Desmond had. "He doesn't have the scar yet."

Desmond made a face at her. "Please tell me I don't have to relive getting hit in the face with a rock," he complained privately. "It was bad enough the first time."

"I don't know," Aveline shrugged, "I don't think that's a memory that would be so scarring as to be necessary to view. But it might be in roughly the timeline?"

"You're adapting rather well," Rebecca said from above, "Not that I'm surprised, really, but it's nice to see."

Desmond shrugged. "It's not so bad. But I'm not really doing anything right now, either."

"Okay, move forward," Lucy said, and he heard her typing. "We'll try something new. We'll load the assets for the memory around you like this, until you hit that point where you'll enter the actual memory. Hopefully it'll ease the transition."

Desmond took a breath, and started walking. As he did, he watched as blank white walls came into being around him, taking shape from abstract shards of white.

It was like watching glass break in reverse, and it was incredibly odd. Also pretty awesome to watch. There weren't any colors yet, just the structure.

"We're doing a quick obstacle course first," Rebecca said, "A way to pre-sync before the actual memory. Shouldn't be too difficult."

"If you say so," Desmond said, and jumped up. Everything was closer than his actual jump height and climbing ability, mimicking what Rebecca had done yesterday.

Next to him, Aveline followed easily. It was relaxing, the easy motion of it. The lack of life in the surroundings was strange, but the movement was familiar. Stepping between footholds with easy jumps, or clinging to hand holds and swinging from them instead. It could be literally anywhere the eight of them were from.

It was very industrial in design at first. Flag poles and support beams over narrow alleys, much like the construction sites Desmond worked on. As they pressed forward, the buildings became lower set, and the poles became wooden in nature, much like how they were in Renaissance Italy. The transition was smooth, and Desmond almost didn't notice it.

"Wow," Aveline said in agreement with his thoughts when they reached a flat place to walk, "that was good."

"Was that you Rebecca, or Lucy?" Desmond asked, looking around. "This is Italy, right? I almost didn't notice."

"A bit of a joint effort," Rebecca said smugly.

"I'm glad you did notice, considering the difference," Hastings said.

"I think it'd be that Rebecca and Lucy were better than me than my complete lack of observational skills," Desmond said dryly.

"And we weren't good enough?" Lucy said with amusement, "Okay, I know I'm supposed to write reports to your parents, but now it's actually kind of personal."

Desmond raised his eyebrows. "Okay, if that helps," he said, and meant it.

Small steps, all in the name of getting Lucy free.

"Alright, your sync is high enough so far," Rebecca said, bringing them back to the point. "You should start approaching the start of the memory we have, if we planned things out right. But it's not an exact science, so you might have to wander a bit."

"I'm good at wandering," Desmond said, and moved forward. He and Aveline looked around, watching everything assemble itself. It was both so incredibly familiar and yet… not. If he hadn't lived in Florence right alongside Ezio, he'd likely not have noticed. "How many assets do you have to match the memory?" he asked.

"Quite a bit," Rebecca said proudly, "But it's still a computer program. I'm proud of what we've got, of course, but we'd need at least another decade of dedicated development to really accurately portray what life is at a realistic level. It's a lot of repetitive asset use to get what you see right now."

"At least without slipping into uncanny valley," Lucy added, "There's so many nuances to lifelike movement that we're actually relying on your own perceptions to provide the movement of the NPC we have programmed in."

"Shaun actually helped with developing the textures for Renaissance Italy, though I did most of the rigging," Rebecca said, "We knew we'd be focusing on Ezio, so we put a lot towards it."

"Not all of them, mind," Hastings input, "But quite a bit. Let me tell you, I may be a historian but I am not that invested in clothes."

"Fashion history is human history," Aveline said to Desmond, eyebrows raised. "Or at least a large facet of it."

"I know that, you know that, and I have the feeling that he knows that, but it's probably still something he's not as interested in," Desmond pointed out.

"I wonder what his focus is?" Aveline mused, "If he's in the Order, than he might have expanded what he researched for their benefit, but he had to start somewhere."

"I can ask later," Desmond said.

"You do that," Aveline said imperiously, turning her nose up exaggeratedly at him. Desmond snorted.

Not a minute later, Desmond triggered the memory. Synching into it wasn't as hard as it was in Abstergo, for which he was thankful. Aveline wasn't necessary to be there, smoothing out the aspects that Desmond still wasn't exactly sure they did, but her presence helped. It stopped him from diving too deep in, where he would want to share with Ezio what was obviously his life, much like that disastrous first attempt with Altair.

Something was off, though. It was as if Ezio was the only person that existed. There was no mention of the others at all, even when they should be present. Like with Duccio. Desmond remembered that confrontation going a lot differently than it did.

At least the way Ezio got his scar was much the same, no matter that Desmond didn't like reliving that. Was what and how they forgot things related to what their genetics recorded? Or was something up with the Animus?

Not that Desmond really had a way to ask. At least, not without revealing secrets he didn't want to admit to. It was nowhere near time for that right now.

Desmond coasted along the memory, watching everything as it happened in real time. As it happened to Ezio in real time. He felt the memories as if they were his own, much like with Altair.

Though the memories had differences he couldn't explain away, either simply differently or in the wrong order altogether. Desmond could only think that there were subtle differences between how he and Ezio remembered things. They shared much, but they also left each other to live their own lives for the most part. Some things might've gotten lost as time passed. Aveline, he felt, agreed with the theory from where she watched over him.

That was what they thought until Giovanni, Federico, and Petruccio were arrested though, and they remained in prison.

Desmond was confused, and his synch rate dropped to reflect that. He heard Lucy and Rebecca warn him about how close he was to desyncing. With Aveline's help, he pushed forward, no matter how wary they were of the situation.

Something was not right. Desmond wished to pin the blame entirely on the Animus, but that wasn't- that wasn't entirely possible. Maybe some of it, but not all, and Desmond was not in the habit of lying to himself.

He might've been in the habit of ignoring the obvious though.

Later, Desmond shook with horror as he watched the bodies of his family swing from the noose, and wished he had left the memory much earlier.

0o0

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