Chapter Twenty-Eight:
The Fighting Never Stops
1746
"I should go," I said. "Thank-you for the food and the hospitality, but I have some people waiting for me."
"Already?" Walter poked my forehead. "Your wounds haven't even healed yet!"
"They have, I assure you." I poked him back, only in the ribs though. "Stop. Following. Me."
"Pfft! That'd be no fun whatsoever!"
His mother passed us by in the hallway and stopped to look at us. "I think her request is reasonable, Walter. Stop chasing strange girls! She's barely a female as it is…"
I was sure that there was a vein showing on my forehead. "You don't like me much, do you?"
"Not at all."
I rolled my eyes as she walked away. "My mother really isn't fond of you," Walter said, smirking.
"Oh, shut-up!" I grabbed the handle of the door, but I was plucked off of it easily by Walter.
"You've insulted me for the last time!" he said in a strangely commanding voice. "As a Noble, I must punish you for this act! You must stay here for a few days longer, under the careful watch of mine eye!"
I facepalmed. "Walter, I'm not going to stay here because you're telling me to."
Walter frowned sadly, and suddenly his eyes became big. "Please?"
If I had to compare him to anything, it would be a lost puppy. I rubbed the back of my head and mumbled curses under my breath. Sometimes, Ezio would give me that lost puppy look with his own brown eyes, and I wouldn't be able to say no (fortunately, it didn't work when I got angry at him for finding him in brothels).
"The last time I was under your 'careful watch', I found out you weren't even supposed to be in the room." I smiled. "But I guess I like seeing Meredith beat you up."
"So you'll stay?"
This guy… He can't be twenty-two! There's no way in hell! "… Okay…"
Walter grinned. "Great!"
2012
I pulled my hood up over my eyes. My boots were soundless against the sand, but you could hear the soft thumping of my sword against my leg. The wind was constant, but behind me. This is where they are…
"Stop!" someone yelled.
I didn't. I continued walking at my pace, as if I were simply out for a stroll. In the hot desert, despite the white colour of my robes, the sun beat down on me.
"I said stop!" the same voice yelled.
When I was close enough to the base, I stopped. Four Templars stood in front of me, all with guns, and I could see combat knives on their belts.
"A single Assassin," one of the men mused, a smile coming to his lips. "What can one Assassin do? We just took-out four of you idiots!"
I frowned, but stayed silent. Ahead of me, behind the door to the underground base, were my brothers. From the cold of Alaska to the heat of Nevada, they had gone through hell.
And I was about to show those Templars what hell looked like.
"Just shoot 'er and be done with it!" another growled.
The men raised their guns and fired. The bullets went through me, and I fell backwards onto the ground. I waited a few seconds before getting up, and activating my hidden blades.
1480
"Oof!"
The breath was knocked out of my body as I just barely missed the haystack. I laid on the floor for a moment, gathering air back into my body, before I pushed myself onto my feet, and, strangely, felt a pair of hands help me.
"It is you, Sofia!" Leonardo exclaimed.
I rubbed my head. "Leonardo da Vinci? What are you doing in Venezia?"
"I have been requested to work for the city," Leonardo explained. "It has been four years since I first saw you, Sofia."
"I am surprised you remember me…" I rubbed my shoulder. "Why do guards always chase me when Ezio is at fault…?"
Leonardo laughed. "Are you here working with Ezio?"
I shook my head. "No. I am on vacation. Unfortunately, he is making it hard for me to have one. I have to constantly follow him and kill any guards who he has left his defences wide open for."
"I can imagine it would be stressful…"
"I think I may have a few grey hairs from merely following that idiota boy around… But I must follow him, as I followed everyone else."
"What do you mean?" Leonardo asked.
I shook my head again. "Nothing…"
2012
It turned out that the Templars had back-up inside. As the last of the Templars outside fell, an entire battalion charged out, yelling and holding blades. And from the looks of it, they were trained well in the Old Arts.
I held up my arm lazily and closed my fist. Embry jumped off of the base and sunk his hidden blades into two of the Templars, and then started his fight. I shook the blood from my hidden blades and drew my shortblade, then started to attack.
Deflecting, parrying, dodging, and then killing. The movements were still feeling alien to me. Having amnesia for two years can do that. But I quickly got back into the beat of my fighting style. Something I'd made, based on Altair Ibn La'Ahad, Dante Allighieri, and Mario Auditore's fighting styles. Something fast, precise, and strong at the same time.
Embry tossed something at me, and as I grabbed it from the air I realized it was a shotgun. I pumped it and fired, then brought my shortblade around and slit another Templar's throat. This pattern constantly continued, until I was backed-up against the base and a Templar ran me through. I pressed the barrel of the shotgun against the Templar and fired, the kick-back shooting me down the stairs.
My hood fell from my head and my eyes closed. It didn't matter how many times it happened; it still hurt like hell.
"Shit!" Somebody pulled the sword out of me and slapped me in the face. "Shit! Sam! Goddammit Sam! Open your eyes!"
So, I did, and I sat up and glared at Ryan. "You know, somebody could die if you pull a blade out of their body without putting pressure on the wounds immediately afterwards. Friggin' idiot. What the hell did you learn during health class?"
"S-Sam?" Ryan exclaimed.
"In the flesh." I tossed my shortblade into the skull of an approaching Templar, and he tumbled down the stairs, dead. "You didn't think I'd just leave you to these bastards, did you?" I smirked and stood up. "Now, excuse me. I still have some enemies I need to send to Hell."
