Yesterday evening was the time Ezio had originally intended to visit Mario, but Nicollo and Pietro had taken that time. So he had been eager for this reacquaintance, thinking about it for most of the night. He was heading for Mario's new base of operation, a large studio purchased from a wealthy carpenter.

This reunion was long overdue. The words of the two Templars he had slain, speaking of his father and of the Assassins once belonging to the Tempalrs, had been heavy and haunting, and yet he had had no one his senior in the order to turn to. But even such words were still competing for the forefront of his mind with the proposal by Nicollo Foscari to walk straight into the Palazzo Ducale to slay Carlo Grimaldi.

Uncle Mario had coached him in his beginning years as an Assassin. He had come so far since then. In Venice, he had felt isolated from the Assassins; He had been, with only Leonardo to defer to, who knew barely more than he. Now Ezio was returning to his roots.

Turning the corner, he saw it in the distance. Random men and women strolled the nearby streets, oblivious that it was a base for deadly, clandestine soldiers in a secret society war. He had been just as oblivious five years ago.

They did know of a more obvious war, their sons and husbands dying in Ferrara. But they did not know who had pulled the strings to make it happen.

Ezio got to the door. He could hear some loud talking inside: his uncle's voice, but the words were indiscernible. He knocked.

He managed to make out a "hold on, I'll get it" and Mario's heavy, husky footsteps proceeding in his direction.

The burly man opened it. "Nipote!" Mario spread his arms with joy. "I was wondering when you were going to come visit! Please, come in!"

Ezio stepped inside. "The pleasure is mine, Uncle Mario. I am sorry we were not able to catch up more the other evening."

His uncle's new headquarters was rather bare. There was little furniture or decoration, though there were some target dummies on the opposite wall, with three Assassins standing ahead, all in attire similar to Ezio's cloak.

The older Auditore began, "Let me introduced to you my three new guerreri: Taddeo you've already met. Pico is our newest addition. And Murad has come from the east to join our fight." They each acknowledged him in their own way.

"Piacere di conoscerti," Ezio said with a small bow.

His uncle clapped him on the shoulder and they looked at each other.

"So, how has the Theives Guild been treating you?"

"It's been better than I expected..." The relatively spartan life style had taken some serious getting used to, but, judging by the surroundings he observed, Mario had no such trouble.

"And Venetzia?"

"A beautiful city."

"Si...si. And how has my dear Annette been? I miss her cooking sorely."

"She has been...well...I suppose...actually, Uncle, there were some...more specific matters I wanted to discuss. Perhaps we should take this somewhere private."

Mario's expression become one of concern

"I understand, Nipote. Come, let's head upstairs."

The eyes of the other Assassins upon them, they headed up up the creaky steps. Ezio had so much to unload.

They entered a door on the left, Mario's quarters, he assumed. It was homier than the downstairs, containing a nice bed with some decorations brought over from Monterrigioni, and a small tea table with high class seats.

The elder Auditore pulled out a chair and sat down. Ezio did the same.

Finally, an intimate moment with the man he had been away from for so long, the one who had coached him on the most vital martial arts in his tender years as an Assassin.

"What's on your mind, Nipote?"

Ezio's thoughts were stressed, dark, and confused. He did not know where to begin.

"So many things...Venetzia has been a strange place."

"How so?"

Ezio laughed a little. "Madre di dio, I do not know where to start. The men I have slain...they have said strange things to me."

His uncle laughed, but his laugh was not meek. Ezio did not expect that. "I have heard that before."

That was a strange statement, but Ezio did not feel like investigating it.

"One of them, Silvio Barbarigo, the one Taddeo told me to kill...he claimed the Templars met my father."

The twenty-three year old watched Mario's expression, but it did not bear surprise.

Finally his uncle spoke. "It was a banking deal that preceeded his death, correct? An important one. One with the Vatican?"

"I am not sure," Ezio said. He felt a strange vulnerability rehearsing that dark day. "Are you saying...the Pope, the Pope was a Templar?"

"Not necessarily, Ezio." That was a relief. "But a Templar may have been in attendance. Maybe your father refused his terms. Or maybe the Templars tried to use that awful artifact on your father, the Piece of Eden. I had always suspected as much."

"You had?"

"Yes. And they saw his immunity to its charms. That is what shook the Templars, what made them decide to have your father killed, I think."

"And they killed my father because they could not use its power against him? They seek to kill everyone who cannot be turned!?" Ezio asked, a childish, helpless outrage seeping into his voice.

"I do not know, Nipote. You and I likely share this affinity, however, and it has been a thorn in the Templars side. A thorn in the side of anyone who tried to control his fellow man with that device."

"Why, why are we safe?"

"Your father, your grandfather, they were descendants of...Dio mio. There is so much I still have not told you, isn't there?"

Yes! Ezio thought. Maybe now he would finally get the information he deserved!

The older Auditore sighed and leaned back.

"It is a long tale. You do not know much about our past, do you, Ezio?"

"You have told me very little." Ezio was reminded of how indignant he had been over that.

"Si, I concede, I concede. Now where to begin..."

The burly man mulled as the younger awaited anxiously.

Finally, Mario settled on something. "Our order began in Syria. A renegade sect of Mohammedans, founded just before the First Crusade. We were headquartered in the city of Masyaf." Masyaf, he remembered that name. It felt funny to think of his heritage as such, but Ezio continued to listen. "The Templars came to the Holy Land early in the Second Crusade. That is when they found that...thing they named 'The Apple of Eden.' They ceased to be a religious order after that, instead striving for conquest in their own name. We were quickly co-opted by the Templars, and became their puppet. That was until one day, the master of the Assassins, a man named Al Muallim, The Old Man on the Mountain, defected."

The Old Man on the Mountain. The twenty-three year old was chilled as Emilio's words came back to him. "He stole the Templar treasure for himself. He had his fellow Templars eliminated, one by one, using the blades at his disposal. When the final man was eliminated, he unleashed the artifact's power on his own city, stealing the minds of all its people. Almost all, rather. He found an unpleasant surprise: Some of the minds of his Assassins could not be taken. These men defeated him, slew him on top of his mountain at the summit of Maysaf."

It was all coalescing.

"We are descendants of these men?" He had Arab heritage?

"One of them, at least."

The nephilim. Angel's blood...

"And what happened to the Piece of Eden? How did the Templars get it back?"

"I do not know, Nipote. When Al Muallim was defeated, a small group of our people went out and buried the horrible object in the desert. Perhaps one of these men was captured and interrogated by the Templars. But regardless, the Templars took Al Muallim's death as a warning. They would never use the evil artifact in the opened again, as they had originally intended once the Holy Land was prepared. Too many were immune to its effects. They would use it in secret, pulling the world's strings from the shadows."

Such history, it was so much to take in. But he saw he should be thankful for his immunity, and the world should be thankful for it to; They were the one things standing between the Templars and humanity's total enslavement.

How his world had shifted with his father's death. It was more than a personal tragedy, it had changed the way he saw the human civilization in a way few men could ever experience.

The fact that the 'Piece of Eden' was found in the Holy Land had disturbing implications, that such an evil object could be connected with faith. Who else had used it, besides the Templars?

He would have a lot to think on, centuries of heavy, disparate mystery and history swirling together to form a solid whole.

But he could take years to ponder all of this. For now, he had a more pressing issue.

"I had a more immediate concern..."

"What is that, Ezio?"

"A noble man, another member of the Council of Ten, wants to work with me. His name is Nicollo Foscari. And he promised to give me entrance into the Palazzo Ducale under the condition I would slay Carlo Grimaldi once inside."

"He is inside the Palazzo Ducale?" Mario asked with surprise.

"He was elected for some sort of special position...Capi I think it is called. They never leave."

Ezio looked back at Mario, but Mario's expression was only curious and expectant. So the younger Auditore continued:

"Do you think I should take the life of anyone else?"

"Like who?"

"The Doge."

"You shouldn't push your luck, Ezio. And I think Venetzia's Doge is not one of them."

"Not one of the Templars? Is that a relevant distinction, if he serves their purposes?"

"Yes, Nipote, yes it is."