Did you find it hard to breathe?
Did you cry so much that you could barely see?
You're in the darkness all alone
And no one cares, there's no one there

But did you see the flares in the sky?
Were you blinded by the light?
Did you feel the smoke in your eyes?
Did you, did you?
Did you see the sparks filled with hope?
You are not alone
'Cause someone's out there, sending out flares

Flares, by The Script, from the album No Sound Without Silence, released in 2014

I threw my punch into the straw bag I had strung up, still feeling the anguish within me. No matter what I did I couldn't be strong enough, I. Still. Let. People. Die. Each enunciated statement was followed by a punch and a kick, causing the bag to swing violently. I couldn't stay in the same room as Bartolomeo without feeling the tears come. I wouldn't let them fall. I knew that Ezio would more then likely be looking for me, but I know that he would find me. He always did- and so I had learned not to try to hide, and that it was better for him to find me. No matter what state I was in, it wasn't worth upsetting him because of my inadequacies. Seeing that it was one of the most commonly used techniques of me, I practised my kicks, aiming at the would be ribs of the target. As I span to give more momentum, it made a thump, causing a small indent in the bag. It was more then I used to be able to do, but it wasn't enough. I could only kick hard enough to distract or unbalance an enemy- not harm or maim. I had to work on it. I repeated the technique once again, throwing my all into the kick, but it still didn't result in much damage. I re-balanced myself, and this time moved forward fluidly, practising my hidden blades in hand to hand. As the blade on my right hand entered the straw bag, I pulled it out before kicking the bag once more. I cross sliced the 'chest' before rolling out of the way as it swung back towards me. I jabbed a few times, before throwing my head into the bag, causing it to launch back. I crossed my blades and this time allowed the bag to smack into me, this time testing my ability to deflect. I adjusted my stance, moving my feet further apart as it smacked into me with a fair force. It knocked me back a little bit, before I pushed back in a slicing movement, throwing a hasty side ways kick, throwing as much force as I could from a kick that quick. While it didn't make an indent this time, it caused the bag to swing in a circle. It came back around quicker then I could anticipate, so I dived to the right, slashing it in the back while I did so. I took a breath before drawing my sword. This time I moved to a wooden dummy, as my sword could easily cut through it. Wood? Not so much. I feinted into it's stomach, before doing a slash along the arm. I span, and using both hands propelled my sword into it's neck. I pushed my sword out of it's neck with a tug, before I side stepped, dodging an imaginary target. After repeating this for fifteen minutes and working on my archery for ten minutes, I sheathed all of my weapons and sat down, allowing myself the luxury of catching my breath. I decided to do something similar to what Ezio had done- try to master the technique of turning into the fox. But I had no idea of how to do it. I held my necklace in my hand, looking at it's intricate design. I had never asked Ezio how he had managed to do it, and I began to regret that immediately. I decided at first something I thought was logical- imagining that I had become the fox- the orange yet soft fur, the sharp claws piercing the ground. The swishing of my tail as I walked, the cocking of my ears as I began to listen. Nothing happened. Same old human hands, same old brown hair. I didn't know what else to try. I tried thinking about home, maybe thinking that it could trigger it. But home was a lonely place, and it made sense that it wouldn't trigger it. It would be kind of sad. I assumed that if sadness wouldn't trigger it, then anger probably wouldn't. I know that if I had made a weapon, I wouldn't want it to be triggered by anger. It could cause something irreversible. I began to think about Ezio, trying to establish how he had managed to do it. I thought about him, who had worked tirelessly on being able to summon it at will. While being my partner, he was also someone I looked up to. I knew that I could never be as good as him, but I hoped to be close to his skill level. I knew the consequences of not being good enough in this world, and I only hoped that I could fill the boots I had been given. I felt that odd feeling of detachment approach, as my necklace flashed in my hand. Out of thin air almost, a translucent spirit of a fox appeared, and it looked at me with somewhat of a grin on it's face. It silently padded over to me, before muzzling into my hand. To my surprise, it disappeared, and I saw an almost translucent glow cover me. It was disorientating as I was suddenly forced onto all fours, the position I was in formally feeling foreign and uncomfortable. I blinked, and before I had realised it, I was the fox, with orange fur lining my hands-now-paws, and I could feel my ears swivelling all around. I could see the pale hues of the world, the colours once vibrant now dull. And no, that wasn't me depressed, but if you remember, foxes can only see dulled out colour. I laid on the floor, my tail tucked between my body as a little bit of the guilt from before haunted me. If I could do this, why couldn't I save Pantasilea? I jumped, making no noise, as I heard footsteps coming up the corridor. Any feelings of guilt were immediately pushed away as one thought sprung to mind- HIDE. I couldn't risk them catching me mid-change (or whatever you wanted to call it) so hurriedly changing back was out of the question. But where could I hide? The training room was large, but there were no tables or crannies for me to hide my now-small body. I quickly looked all over the room, trying to find somewhere to hide. I could hear the footsteps getting louder and louder, and I was beginning to panic. I did NOT want to get skewered by an arrow or have my pelt skinned. As I turned my head frantically, I saw a small pile of empty straw bags in a pile. If somebody wanted to use one, they had to string it up and fill it themselves. I sprinted towards them, my nails clacking against the floor, as I skidded into them. I curled up, trying to make myself small, and nosed the bags over me. It was a bit itchy, and it was making me want to sneeze, but I held it in. I could smell the decay of the hay, and I could smell the faint smell of copper. I hated the smell immediately..because I knew what it was. Blood. I was glad that normally I couldn't smell it- because now it was like someone had drowned me in the stuff. My ears pricked as I heard the person with heavy footsteps enter the room.

"...at least she was in here. Master Isa?"

I recognised the voice immediately. It was one of the apprentices, a young girl called Grace. I reminded myself to tell her to practise her footwork, but concentrated on staying silent. I jumped as I heard another voice, and while I immediately recognised it as Ezio's, I hadn't realised that he was in the room. Despite his stature, his feet were impeccably silent. Normally, (or so he told me) men had troubles working with their feet, but it had come second nature to him. Lucky.

"Thank you- I'll keep looking for her."

I could practically sense the apprentice leave, and it was further proven by the sound of footsteps leaving the room.

"You can come out now"

Ezio called out softly, and I knew he was directing it to me. I shook my entire body out (making me feel like a dog) and dislodged the bags off of me. I padded up to Ezio, who was crouched down near me. He looked at me for permission, before he brushed my head with his palm, pushing my ears back. I sat down, head on paws, as my tail ducked between my legs of its own accord.

"It's not your fault you know."

My ears pricked back, as I made this weird whining sound. Apparently, a depressed sigh translates to a whine. He continued to stroke my head, calming me slightly. But Ezio was wrong. It was my fault. If I had never come here, she would be alive. Because I came here, an innocent person was killed. She had nothing to do with the Assassins, she had done nothing wrong, yet she was dead because of me. She probably had a family, a lot of people who loved her. Who would miss her. I only had Ezio who loved me- so while he would be devastated, there would be less people who would miss me. I was the one who didn't belong in this instance, not her. If anything, I was the one who should have been kill-

"Stop thinking that."

Apparently Ezio can-

"Yes. I can. So stop thinking it Isabella."

Could he stop cutting off-

"No. I will keep cutting off your thoughts until we discuss this like the adults we are."

I swear he was psychic. I sighed, but stood up awkwardly on four paws for a brief second, before collapsing back onto four. I wanted to change back anyway..I much preferred being a human. It was a lot easier to display emotions and I could speak. Although I didn't like showing my emotions easily. I knew Ezio wouldn't let up until I changed back anyway. I nodded, and tried to picture myself shedding the skin, and standing back on two feet. I imagined regaining the ability to speak, and my own hands, concentrating on the hidden blade on my wrist and my robes draped over me. Soon enough, I could feel my robes draped over me, and Ezio's hands on my shoulder, steadying me.

"Easy. It's disorientating, isn't it."

I couldn't help but agree as the room began to spin. Getting used to the bipedal position from the quadrupedal one wasn't simple. Add in the change in colour scheme and it was a recipe for a headache. And I hated headaches. He guided me to our room, gently resting me on the bed. I was tired, and I remembered Ezio briefly mentioning that he always became exhausted after using it. I guess it was a good thing that he had placed me on the bed, because I doubted I could stay awake for long. It felt like my eye lids had little weights pushing them down, and it was a losing battle to say the least. I hadn't even noticed Ezio leaving the room, until he returned with a cup of water. I quickly took the offered cup and drained it, and while it didn't allow me to recover any energy, it was refreshing. Ezio sat in the chair opposite the bed, relaxing briefly although keeping a wary stance. An Assassin never truly relaxed.

"So...what do you think?"

I wasn't stupid, I knew exactly what he was asking in his seemingly simple question. After all, we had repeated this little scenario many a time. If I told him how I was feeling, he would interpret how I felt, and try to disprove or alleviate my thoughts. I couldn't lie to him, but he was good at not openly telling me that my thoughts were wrong. He was also good at judging when to push and when not to push. As my eyelids began to droop even more, Ezio seemed to notice and looked at me, his thoughts hidden behind his face.

"-no. Tell me after. Sleep, piccolo.

I listened to him, and stopped fighting the urge to sleep, relaxing into the bed. As my eyes closed of their own accord, I could feel the soft, comforting feeling of a blanket being draped over me, followed by a warm kiss on my cheek.

"Sleep."

He repeats, his voice becoming quieter and more warbled. I finally allow myself to drift off, knowing that the conversation I had accidentally avoided would be waiting for me to wake up.

Ezio had wandered off somewhere while I was sleeping, but left me a note that said I should head back to the training room. I shrugged myself out of bed, feeling slightly well rested, and remade it, before peering out of the window. It looked to be mid afternoon roughly. I quickly checked my pockets, before hastily heading towards the training room. Soon enough I walked through the door, to see Ezio beating the ever loving- excuse my language- shit out of a bag. It had so many dents in it that I could hardly tell where the hastily drawn face was on it (funnily enough, they were drawn on by a few young apprentices as a joke. We didn't have the heart to remove them.) nor could I tell where the lines that represented bones were. I coughed to make myself known, and Ezio gave it one last punch before he stilled it with his hands, and turned towards me.

"Come on- let us spar."

I was surprised, but approached him, before dropping to a fighting stance. Ezio followed suit, before he laid down the rules, so that we knew when to stop.

"No weapons. First to get the other pinned wins. If you cry mercy, you have to let whoever you have pinned go."

I nodded in affirmation, as Ezio tightened his bun with his hands, before following my example and dropping to a fighting stance. Maybe he had forgotten about the conversation he wanted to have with me? But when was I that lucky? Ezio gestured towards me, a signal that he was giving me first move. I took advantage, testing his reflexes with a kick to the side. He caught it, before pushing my leg back in an attempt to unbalance me. Rather then allow him to push me back, using my only foot on the ground, sprung up, twisting my entire body. As my other leg swung towards his torso, he released my leg, causing me to tumble to the ground. As I hit the hard and cold ground, I rolled to the side before I stood up, deflecting one of Ezio's fists. I would much rather take his fist to my arm rather than my face.

"So, how are you feeling?"

Yeah, I knew I wasn't getting out of that one. I thought about my answer as I ducked beneath his fist, knowing that I couldn't to him. I couldn't lie to him then, I couldn't lie to him now. It didn't get much simpler then that. I sighed as I punched towards his neck, with Ezio grabbing my wrist and aiming towards where my kidneys were. In return I grabbed his wrist, causing us to be in an impasse.

"I feel like it's my fault...if I hadn't come here Pantasilea would still be alive."

I lifted my leg up and placed it upon Ezio's knee, before using him as a springboard, kicking him in the chin and landing back neatly on my feet as he was forced to let go. If he had kept ahold...well I would be in a lot of pain. I wasn't nowhere near flexible enough to do back flips (well, not from the floor anywhere) but this little trick was the best thing I could have.

"Do you know that for sure though?"

Normally that would bring up an excellent point, but in this situation I felt like I did know. Because I knew the storyline- and Pantasilea would be alive, considering she was in Brotherhood. The game, not the literal Brotherhood. I verbalised my point as I tried to sweep Ezio's leg, knowing that my only chance to win

"But you said that you didn't know this 'timeline'"

Finally, Ezio is using conjunctions! Finally! I'd never thought I'd be grateful for that. It made me awkward and feel out of place sometimes when I would speak using them, but he didn't. It made me feel a bit better now that he was speaking using them. And while he raised a valid point, I still contributed to the changing of the timeline. The original timeline. The way Ezio pronounced the word was weird, like it was foreign to him. To be fair, I doubted it was even a word.

"That's true. But I contributed to the changing of the timeline- if I wasn't here, the timeline would continue as normal."

Rather than a simple spar, it seemed more of an argument of the beliefs currently. Ezio called a halt to the spar, throwing me one of the finely sanded wooden swords. Free from splinters. I dropped into another fighting stance, with the handle carefully held in my hands. As we furiously engaged in combat with one another, with the audible thunk of wood against wood in the background, Ezio almost immediately countered my point, as he feinted to my stomach, before trying to whack my side. I side-stepped the blow, before glancing his arm as he withdrew it.

"But how do you know that the timeline from the 'video-game' is, how do you say it, the corretta timeline. Maybe the one you know isn't the right one?"

He had, once again, a valid point. Our swords repeatedly clashed as I bent backwards avoiding a strike to my neck, before kicking up, wrenching the sword from his hand. He dived to the side as I stood up, catching his sword with a firm grip, before trying to catch me off guard. I sharply twisted to the side, and our swords crossed. I couldn't really come up with a point to counter argue, knowing that I had no accurate way to determine what was the 'true' timeline, where everything worked out as it was intended. Ezio's eyes softened, as we continued to engage, and it just reminded me of how weak I was. And how I hardly made a difference in the end..only a negative one. I flinched minutely as I felt the sharp impact of his sword glance my shoulder. I hadn't been paying enough attention. I trapped Ezio's sword arm by grabbing the underside of his arm, and while I couldn't restrain him for long, slapped him on the side with my sword. We both released one another, just as Ezio charged towards me, causing me to step out of the way. He quickly turned however, his sword coming into contact with mine sharply. I tried to push it away, but my arm was quivering underneath his strength. If I tried to dive back, he would merely follow me. I couldn't see a way of getting out of this easily. I ducked and dropped my sword, bending awkwardly onto the ground trying to avoid a strike. I pushed up off the ground with my legs, and entered a head-stand like position, with my legs wrapped around his arm tightly. I twisted , and pulled his arm down in an attempt to bring him crashing to the ground. While that didn't happen, he was momentarily distracted, so I sprung back up and retrieved my sword. As we clashed for a few minutes more, Ezio first kicked struck the underside of my hand, before spinning and hitting the tip of the sword handle with the base of the blade. My blade was sent ricocheting out of my hand, and landed on the dirt, hilt landing with a hollow thunk.

"Just because something goes wrong, doesn't mean it is your fault. You could have done nothing to prevent her death, and by your presence here you have saved many more people. You cannot take the world's problems on your shoulders- you are an inherently good person, and I know that if you could have saved her you would have. You need to remember that."

Translations

La forza non è tutto - Strength is not everything

corretta - Correct

Author's Note

Soooo...guessed who finally realised that BIANCA is the name of his SWORD. PANTALISEA IS/WAS HIS WIFE. I was browsing on the wiki, making sure that I had my events lined up correctly, and clocked that Bianca was his sword. I'm an idiot. I went back through the chapters and replaced all mentions of 'Bianca' with 'Pantalisea', but other than that the content is still the same. Sorry for that mistake guys.

I'm so tired as of late. Apparently no matter what time I go to bed (even at a reasonable 10pm) I still wake up tired. It doesn't help that I've got to juggle FOUR assignments (basically reports written up in exam conditions) in the SAME week for DIFFERENT subjects. It's exhausting...and apparently nobody decided to stagger then so that we didn't get them all in the same week.

But anyway, enough of my complaining. How is everybody this week? Had a better week then I have? I hope so. Ironically in my English lesson, we are going over 'Characterisation' so I'm banking my hopes that it will improve my arguably limited writing skills. But considering I'm hardly a world qualified author and am still learning, I think the chances are high.

Right, I gotta go. I'm hoping to see you all next time

Have a nice week and thanks for reading.

~Cait