The Second Life: Origins
First off, I would like to say congratulations and thank you to all those that have reviewed, because we've made it to 300!
Second off, I want everyone to know that there are only two chapters left before I return to my other stories. This, and the next, which will also be the final chapter of the Second Life arc.
Now then, since I've got that squared away, on to the origins of the Prowler of Roma!
Disclaimer: I don't own PJO or AC
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Inspired by historical events and an over-active imagination, this work of fiction was designed, developed, and produced by a single-cultural team of one religious faith and belief, sexual orientation, and gender identity.
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1476
June 1
Roma
Senator Virile Cavaliere was a tall man, a powerfully built man, a man that had served in the armies of Rome, and knew the blood of his enemies. He was a man skilled at politics and battle, well-versed in the Word, and a man of family, principle, and honor.
He was also about to be a father.
Virile practically stormed down the halls of his villa to the birthing room, to where he could hear the cries of his wife, Aquila Cavaliere. It might have seemed that the man was storming, but in reality, that was his usual gait. No, if he truly was 'storming,' all of Heaven and Earth would know about it.
Virile had almost killed his horse due to the pace he had it running to get over here, though.
The Senator calmly opened the door to where his wife lay, surrounded by nurses and cloth, and buckets. Aquila Cavaliere was the exact opposite of her husband, in that she was small, frail, had come up in a simple family of clothes-makers. Her black hair was wavy, her eyes warm, sparkling, and her face soft and beautiful…on any given day.
Right now she looked like hammered shit, but childbirth did that to a woman.
Virile was at his wife's side in an instant, tightly gripping her hand, boring into her soul with his eyes, pouring strength into her. Aquila took several breathes, almost calming back down from her earlier trials. Her husband's eyes hardened, and his grip tightened even harder than what it had been; Aquila nodded.
Her face screwed up in effort, then, with a scream that could've scared away an army, she pushed, and she pushed, and she pushed more still. The nurse at the foot of the bed, the one prying apart Aquila's cervix to allow for birthing, announced, "I can see the head!"
Aquila sucked in through her teeth, then pushed once more.
Crying filled the air.
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1480
July 6
Roma
Virile found his son sitting on the balls of his feet, his arms wrapped around his knees, lower face hidden by his legs, a Bible in hands, in front of the room in which Aquila was giving birth in…again. The four-year-old's sharp eyes flickered to Virile upon the sound of his footsteps being heard.
"Padre…why does Madre scream so?"
As if rehearsed, Aquila screamed from inside the room, and Virgil Cavaliere winced, fear and distress flashing in his innocent little eyes. Virile sat next to his son, placing a large hand on that small head. "Do not worry for your mother, Son. She screams because Eve screamed, as do all women at this time."
"Will she…will she be alright?"
"Si. Your mother is strong, and God stands with her in this, as do I. Soon you will have a younger sibling to look after."
Virgil looked down, deep in thought, then his eyes brightened like that of twin stars. "I hope it's a girl!" he chirped.
Virile blinked. "Why do you hope for a girl?"
"Because I want a sister," was the simple response.
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1484
August 13
Roma
Virgil got his sister, an adorable little tot named Anita.
Currently, we find the siblings and their mother in the Roman countryside, their father hard at work elsewhere. Aquila watched her children like a hawk as they played about, dancing and twirling and giggling and laughing and behaving as young children should. Aquila smiled softly, thanking God for blessing her with such beautiful children, and blessing her for children that behaved and loved one another and were not spoiled and selfish like other children of their status.
Virile often told his wife stories of the Borgias Cesare and Lucrezia, although perhaps their unruliness could be blamed on their father. That train of thought led Aquila to be thank god for a husband like the one she had. The proud mother was broken from her prayers when the shrieks of children changed from shrieks of merriment to shrieks of panic.
A black dog stood before Virgil and Anita, hackles raised and lips pulled back.
Aquila bolted from her sitting position among the wildflowers, and sprinted as fast as she could in her dress. "Children, run to me!"
Anita obeyed, and desperately tried to tug her big brother along, but Virgil remained steadfast, staring the black dog down. Aquila felt unrestricted panic surge through her, and she desperately tried to run faster, but she only ended up tripping on her dress. Face down, she heard a bestial sound and the screaming of her daughter…but nothing from her son.
Icy cold settle in Aquila's veins, but when she looked up, she saw not the black dog tearing into her son, but her son with his little arms wrapped tightly around the dog's neck…strangling it. Above, the clouds had come together, blocking most of the sun's light, except for a few patches. One of those patches shined down directly on Virgil and the dog.
The black beast kicked and snarled, biting and pawing at air as the grip on its neck prevented from gaining any leverage or ability to alter itself. It writhed and threw itself about, but Virgil's grip was unrelenting. After a time, the dog became still, and then it became limp.
Virgil dropped the beast, and Aquila was at her children's sides, scooping both of them up. Anita was sobbing into her mother's shoulder, and Virgil was…Virgil was a lot calmer.
"Mother…I smell like a dog!"
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Later that night
One would think that the family of a senator of Rome, especially in these increasingly turbulent times of corruption, assassination, bribery, blackmail, and illegal actions, would have guards with them at all times. Twas not the case for the Cavalieres. In fact, not only had there not been any guards around, but not any people either, so Virile only discovered his family's ordeals after he arrived home from work.
He sat with his son on the veranda, watching the sunset.
"How do you feel, Son?"
"I feel fine."
"Even though you killed one of God's creatures today?"
"Father?"
Virile continued to stare into the sun. "An agent of Satan though it may have been, it was still a creation brought forth by the hand of the Lord, and you killed it."
"Are you saying that I am a murderer, Father?"
"Si."
Virgil looked at Virile, his dark eyes unnaturally sharp for a child. "Have you not also killed people, Father?"
The senator slowly turned to look at his offspring, his own eyes cold and merciless. "Do not forget who you speak to, ragazzo."
Virgil looked back at the sun. "I speak to my father, who never answered my question." It was spoken neutrally, with Virgil fully aware of what he was doing, and of just how thin the ice he treaded upon truly was.
Virile, sensing this, also turned to look back at the sun, the flames of his temporary anger now quelled. "I have killed many people, my son, and the taking of life is not a practice to be proud of, mai."
"Then why do it?"
"There are things in this world that are worth fighting for, Virgil, and there are things worth killing for, as well. Those that I have slain threatened my family in a way, and that is not something that I will allow."
"So then…it is okay to kill those that threaten your family?"
"No, it is not. The Lord forbids the killing of your fellow man, for any purpose."
Virgil was confused.
"However," Virile said, and his eyes burned with passion, "we are mere men, my son, and we sin every day. To kill is but one more sin, and to kill for the purpose of protecting my family is a sin that I will not repent for. So I ask you again: come ti senti?"
Virgil was startled by his father's sudden forceful tone, but that did not derail his answer. "I feel that I am in the right for what I did, and that the Lord stood with me."
"Do you regret your actions?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because the dog wanted to harm Anita, and I could not let that happen."
"Why?"
"Because she is my sister."
"So you killed the dog to protect your family?"
"Si."
"Are you willing to kill again to protect your family?"
"I am."
Virile smiled. "Bene. Molto bene. You have made me proud this day, Son." The powerful man spread his arm wide, and Virgil was at his father's side instantly, and Virile brought his arm back down, tightly embracing his son.
"Do not ever forget the reason you fight, my child, and do not ever kill for a purpose other than family."
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1490
February 10
Roma
"Virgil, come help me please!" Aquila called from the other room.
The fourteen-year-old marked his place in his Bible, closed the book, and made his way to where his mother was. Upon entering her room, he raised a brow. "Sewing?"
"Si, and do not give me lip on how this is a woman's job. Sewing is a skill all should have, regardless of what's between their legs. That way any rips and tears in one's clothes can be taken care of without having to pay someone. Now sit."
Virgil wasn't even thinking of giving 'any lip,' he was just merely pointing out what he saw.
On that day, Virgil Cavaliere learned how to make his own clothes.
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The next day
"Virgil! Virgil!" Anita practically screamed as she came running around the corner.
In the bustling streets of Rome, a little girl's cries went unheard by all except for those that listened. Virgil was listening, even though he and his sister were only supposed to be in the city for more cloth for their mother. When the cries of Anita reached him as soon as they were uttered, he bolted around, and was less than pleased to see a group of older boys, boys older than he, chasing her.
Anita scrambled behind Virgil's legs, and the group of older teens rumbled to a halt before Virgil.
"And just why are you chasing my sister?"
"Because, Cavaliere, she insulted Cardinal Borgia," sneered the biggest thug, a massive specimen of fat and roles. It was amazing he had the stamina required to keep up with Anita.
Virgil was unimpressed. "And?"
"And she needs to pay for it!"
"And how do you expect she pays for her insult?"
"By apologizing!"
"Oh, if that's all. Anita?"
The girl peeked from behind Virgil's back. "Mi dispiace."
Virgil nodded. "There, now you have your apology, and we can all depart from here in peace. Good day, gentlemen. Come, Anita."
The son of Virile turned his back on the bullies, his hand firmly on his sister's back as he led her away. He didn't believe for a second that the filth behind him were done, and was hardly surprised to hear the fat one snarl.
"Not so fast, Cavaliere. I think you owe us an apology too." The fat one was ignored, and that made him mad. "Hey, Cavaliere! I'm talking to you-ah!"
The fat one attempted to grab Virgil by the shoulder and spin him around, only for his meaty hand to be grabbed, and suddenly his vision went inverted as all air left his lungs when his back roughly kissed the stone road. His last sight in the land of consciousness was of Virgil's raised fist, and his cold, merciless dark eyes.
The other thugs all gaped, before one of them shouted, "Get him!" and they all rushed as one.
"Anita, close your eyes."
The little girl did that…but being the mischievous brat she was at heart, she peeked through her fingers, only to squeak in surprise at seeing her big brother not an inch away from her face.
"I said close your eyes!"
Comically flinching, this time Anita did close her eyes, and this time she kept them shut. However, she didn't need the glory of vision to know what was going on, for the sounds of flesh on flesh were more than enough for the little girl to know that her big brother was calciando il culo.
The sounds of fighting stopped. "Let's go, Anita."
She splayed her fingers, and cracked her eyes open. She saw a pile of groaning bodies, and the knuckles of her brother were bleeding. "Virgil, your hands…"
"Will be fine. Now, come little sister. Mother is waiting."
Anita took her brother's hand, and the two departed from the streets of Rome in silence, both ignoring the crowd that watched them. The same crowd that eventually dispersed into a mindless mass of sheep that would gossip among themselves. Upon reaching the countryside of Rome, becoming closer to their small villa, Virgil asked his sister a question.
"What exactly did you say to them?"
"Oh, um…"
The child fiddled with her clothes, staring at the ground with an embarrassed expression.
"Anita…" Virgil warned.
"Um, I heard it from Father when he described the Borgia man…"
"Uh-oh. Anita, what did you say?"
"I called Borgia a _"
"Excuse me?"
Anita fidgeted, and her expression was one of absolute childish cuteness, with her flustered mannerisms, her blushing face, and her big, innocent eyes.
"I called him a pezzo di merde…"
…
Virgil stared at his sister, making her fidget in place, then he began cracking up, and then snickering, and then full-blown laughing. Anita found herself stunned at her big brother's behavior, but soon found his laughter to be infectious, and she was giggling soon enough.
Virgil calmed himself back down, and he rubbed his little sister's head with an affection that could only be matched by an elder brother. "You are not wrong, sorellina, but do not ever say that again, okay?"
"Si, Brother…what does pezzo di merde mean?"
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Later that night
Virile arrived home, and he immediately called his son to his side. However, the senator had to work later than usual, and instead of staring into the sunset, they were treated to the sight of the full moon.
"I know what has happened this afternoon, Son."
"I will not apologize."
"As you should not!" Virile rounded on his son. "What you did today was a great thing. You stood against a mounting tide; a feat few men can claim to have done. You defended your sister against multiple threats, and for that I am proud and grateful."
The Cavaliere patriarch smiled at his son, before turning a wistful gaze towards the moon.
"I fear there will come a day when a man will not be able to defend his principle and belief without fear of reprimand from the law. If that day comes, mankind will know what true weakness is. I can only pray that your grandchildren are dust by then."
"Father?"
"Ah, apologies, my son. I do not mean to burden you with the philosophies of an old man. Come, it is time for cena."
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1493
August 15
Roma
Virgil was seventeen years old now. He was a tall young man, most likely 5'10 in height, 6'1 in boots. He was well-built due to years of combat training with his father, running across the rooftops of Rome, and helping farmers around the countryside do their chores. Anita was now a young girl of thirteen, had started becoming a woman almost three months ago, and was already an object of desire in the hearts of many men, however none of them were dumb enough to try anything against Virgil Cavaliere; news of what he did to those boys three years ago, still resonated to the present day, and Virile was not at all willing to marry off his daughter for any reason, and people were even more afraid of that man than his son.
In other news, Rodrigo Borgia had been elected Pope Alexander VI over a year ago, through less than scrupulous means, and Rome was steadily declining into what could be considered a dictatorship due to the machinations of those that walk within the shadows. Anita did not know it, but Virile had received death threats for not buying into the growing Borgia regime.
But the growing political strife was not what was on Virgil's mind right now; it was his date tonight.
Emiliana Santi was a beautiful young woman of 17, with blonde hair, bright, blue eyes, a slender build, soft features, and more womanly ability than what should have been available for one of common birth. Virgil liked to think that this woman was living proof that blood did not dictate your lot in life.
The two had been together for almost a year now.
They were on horseback in the city, touring the streets, with Virgil telling Emiliana all that he knew about this place and that. The night was warm, the air smelled like bread, lanterns lit the streets, and the night was alive with groups gossiping in the corners, groups moving about. Perhaps the biggest blemish on the night was the number of Borgia militia patrolling about.
"Virgil," Emiliana said. The tone of her voice was one of slight distress, and it immediately caught Virgil's attention. "Those guards...they're staring at us."
Turning his head slightly, Virgil saw that there were indeed guards staring at them. They were disgusting, with unkempt beards littered with food stuffs, beady eyes, yellow teeth, and Virgil was pretty sure he could smell them from where he was. Seeing that they had been found out, the Borgia's finest moved out, heading towards the young couple.
On the rooftops, more Borgia drew crossbows.
"I'm sorry, Emiliana. Being with me seems to have become a hazard to your health."
"At least my life is never boring."
"Vero."
Virgil snapped the reigns, the horse was off, and the Borgia archers had the accuracy of blind men.
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1493
August 18
Roma
Virgil was out and about by himself, with his father, mother, and little sister at home. Virgil was running errands today, delivering letters and such for his father. What these letters contained was irrelevant, who they were delivered to was irrelevant, and where they were delivered to was also irrelevant.
Virgil was halfway done with his deliveries when he caught the attention of the viper.
At thirteen years old, Lucrezia Borgia was already a married woman, married to Giovanni Sforza, and had long since lost her virginity and her innocence. She had lied, she had killed, and she had tortured. She was well-versed in the arts of seduction, able to draw grown men into the bed, and slit their throats after she was done with them. Lucrezia was a product of the shadows, a poor, twisted soul tainted by her father and so much more.
She might've been deserving of sympathy…if she hadn't been one to revel in her status.
Perhaps her sanity had been stripped from her at a younger age than what she remembered, or perhaps she never had any sanity in the first place. Regardless, Lucrezia absolutely adored her power, the way she could twist men around her fingers, the ability she had to dole out orders and stand there as people scrambled to please her. And if they failed to meet her standards, she could have them killed.
One time, when a few servants had started to show a little backbone against the Borgia tide, Lucrezia decided to have a little fun. She gathered these servants, near the horse stables, at a time in which her latest meal was completing the final stages of the digestive process. After she had done her business, Lucrezia ordered one of the servants to…clean her up. Predictably, the man refused, and that was where the lesson was learned.
A host of guards stormed in, leading a horse with them. They tied the rebellious servant up, a boy that couldn't have been more than just a few years older than Lucrezia, and yet was built just the same. Then they let the horse have his its way with the boy, forcing the servants to watch. After the horse was done, and the boy was little more than a barely-alive mess, another guard brought in a large bucket filled a sickly green mush that absolutely reeked.
Manure.
The boy's head was forced into the slop, and kept there until his frantic flailing came to an end. The servants were forced to watch that as well. After the body, the bucket, and the horse were taken elsewhere, Lucrezia asked which of the servants wanted to clean her up. They all clambered over to her, almost fighting one another, in a hasty effort to clean the Borgia girl's asshole.
Afterwards, the servants were released back into the Borgia's service, humiliated and subdued for the rest of their tenure…which was a few scant days because Cesare found out that they had all put their tongues upon his sister's extremities, and had them all murdered.
Via suffocation in piles of horse shit.
However, there were times when Lucrezia hated her life. Like when she had to be married to someone for no other purpose than politics. Or when her father brought her to the bedroom. Or when she had to sleep with anyone other than her beloved brother. Or like right now, when she had to seduce a teenager, and he wasn't falling for her advances.
Virgil stared down at the viper before him with disgust and distaste. He didn't even tilt his head to look down upon it, and just used his eyes to bear into the viper's poisoned soul. He knew who this viper was, and knew why it was here, and he had no tolerance for it.
Without a sound, he brushed past the viper, causing it to hiss.
"You're making a mistake, Cavaliere. When I tell my father of your insolence, he'll-"
Virgil whipped around, his dark eyes cold and merciless. The viper became quiet.
"I pray for you and your family, I truly do, but if you do anything against me and mine…only God will save you. Now, inizio, vipera."
Lucrezia whimpered, before sprinting off in the direction opposite of Virgil Cavaliere.
The son of Virile watched her go with a dark expression. That child was danger, and his words may very well have brought indirect harm to his family, but then again. Father was home, and Father was not so out of shape and away from his prime that he could not handle such things like henchmen. Besides, Virile was a senator, a well-respected one at that, and the Borgia were not so dumb as to openly attack a senator, no matter their influence.
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Lucrezia nearly ripped the door off the carriage her brother was in, and she buried her face in his chest, sobbing her twisted little heart out. Cesare whispered quietly to her, soothing her by calmly stroking her hair. When Lucrezia calmed herself, he asked, "I trust that Cavaliere will not be bending to us?"
"N-No...Cesare, he-"
"Shhhhh, mia amor," the young cardinal said. "He will not be a problem anymore." Cesare looked out the carriage's window, looked out at the hiding man in the clothes of the wolf, and nodded at him. The wolfman disappeared.
"H-He won't?"
"No, Lucrezia, no. But enough of the Cavaliere...let us turn our attention to a more...productive activity."
"Oh, Cesare…"
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Night
"I am worried about, Virgil. He is not back yet."
"Do not worry about him, Aquila. He is well-trained, and the Borgia are not yet so bold as to openly attack us in public. Virgil is fine."
Anita kept quiet, but she too was worried for her brother.
Then the distant howl of a wolf was heard.
The family of three all stopped what they were doing as a feeling of strong unease enveloped all of them. They had heard the howling of wolves before, and this one sounded...off. Then Virile's eyes widened. He could not expect his wife to know, much less his young daughter, but he knew that sound.
"Aquila, take Anita to the passage, now!"
The girl immediately yelled in distress when her mother scooped her up, and her father stormed elsewhere. Aquila bolted through the halls of her home, not knowing what was coming, but knowing that it was bad if it had Virile like this.
Putting Anita down, Aquila threw aside the dresser, then tossed away the carpet, revealing the metal handle on top of the wooden plank. Gripping it and ripping it up, mother and daughter screamed as werewolves leapt at them.
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In an extreme case of old man strength, Virile hefted his bastard sword with one arm, and charged out of his house. He was not surprised to see a host of the Followers of Romulus, the accursed cult that worshipped a fictional figure like a god. There was only one god.
"Come then, tu vagabondi!"
A Follower barked like the animal he imitated, and he charged. Virile swung his sword, and he split the animal in half. More charged, each one by itself, and Virile cleaved them apart left and right without showing any signs of fatigue. Soon, the grass was stained red and the cult's forces were cut down to less than half of what they were originally.
With a roar of a lion, Virile charged, sword raised and bloody. Then he heard the screams of his wife and child. He paused, panic surging through him, and it was just enough for a dog to stab him. Virile roared once more, and bisected the Follower at the sternum. However, that single knife was just enough to weaken Virile.
The wolves descended.
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Virgil had a small smile on his face as he made his way home. He had delivered the letters some time ago, but he had made a quick detour to see his girlfriend. They had done nothing sexual, as both were followers of the Lord, but the time they spent together was nice.
Virgil's good mood was quickly ended when he smelled...burning. Looking to the horizon, he saw glowing orange and dancing red. His heart leapt into his throat, and he took off at a speed that could've had horses struggling to catch up. Virgil thundered up the hill, and when he eclipsed the top, he froze in horror.
His house was on fire. His father had been dismembered, with his limbs and strips of flesh strewn about the grass, along with the corpses of men in wolf's clothing. His mother had been nailed to the door, pages of the Bible jammed tight into her eyes and mouth, all soaked with blood. And his sister…
Virgil rushed to her side, as Anita had been propped against the stone wall in front of the porch. She was naked, bleeding, and alive. Cradling her close, Virgil saw that the fangs of wolves had been stabbed into her sex.
"Vir...gil?"
"I'm here, Anita." The Cavaliere managed to keep the tremble out of his voice.
"It hurts, Virgil…"
He stayed silent, tears building in his eyes.
"Where are Momma and Papa?"
"They're close, sister. They're close."
"Are they...are they...dead?"
"...yes."
"O-Oh...I think I can see them, Brother. They're smiling at me, telling me to come closer."
"No!" Virgil screamed. "No, don't go to them, Anita! Stay here, please."
"I have to, Brother...it's bright and warm…"
"No, Anita, don't go!"
Anita's lids drifted ever closer to her body. "I want to go, Virgil...I want to go...I like it there...I love...you…"
Anita's eyes closed for the last time.
Virgil's heart stopped for a moment, his eyes widening. Warmth spilled down his cheeks, but he did not feel it. He stared at the red body of his sister, and he did not hear when the wooden door gave way, and his mother fell into the fire. In vain, Virgil gently shook Anita's body.
"Anita, Anita, c-come now little s-sister."
Virgil's body trembled as sobs began to escape him, sobs that he hid by burying his face into his sister's body.
The last Cavaliere looked up, his face covered in blood. His sobs turned into snarls, his trembling into guttural heaving. His gaze zeroed in on the cliff above, where one Cesare Borgia sat upon a horse, Lucrezia behind him, arms wrapped around his waist. Virgil stared at them, his face bloody, his eyes reflecting the fire that burned his house. From down below, the Cavaliere saw Cesare gulp and Lucrezia hide her face in her brother's back.
The Borgia quickly fled the area.
Virgil heard grunting and growling behind him, and slowly turned around to see many men in the pelts of wolves. Virgil gently set his sister down, and stood up, and then faced the Followers of Romulus. He uttered five words.
"There will be no survivors."
The Followers of Romulus charged, but a blur streaked past all of them, and more red painted the night. The blur came back, and solidified itself into the shape of a woman wearing a dress of pristine fur, with hair that reached the ground, and silver eyes.
"Come with me. More will be here soon."
"Who are you?"
"I am Lupa, the goddess of this city, mother of Romulus and Remus."
Instead of refuting this being's claim, Virgil glanced at the carnage behind her, and asked, "What do you want from me?"
"Your help in purging the Borgia from Rome."
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1495
July 1
Roma
"Why have you not done these things yourself?"
"I am restricted by certain rules and laws, made at the beginning of time by those more powerful than I. I cannot directly interfere with the happenings of the mortals, but I can influence events through others, like I am doing with you."
"I see. If you are real, then are the other ancient pagans of Rome real as well?"
"Once, yes. But as mortals stripped the gods of their prayers, turning to Jesus instead, the old gods lost their power, and faded into the Void."
"Then why have you remained?"
"My life force is directly tied to this city, directly tied the idea of Rome itself. I do not draw power from prayer as the old gods did, but from the city itself. As long as Rome stands, I will continue to exist."
Virgil fell silent, before asking, "What happens now?"
"Now? Now you are on your own. I have trained you in all that I can, and you have already proven yourself worthy. You have completed all tasks I assigned you, and now you have no need of me. Your path is now your own, your actions your own, and your plans your own. Go forth, Che Si Aggira, and bring about an end to the Borgia, by any means necessary."
The hooded man nodded once, and he stormed forward out of the cave, his cape, sewn by his own hands, fluttering behind him. He took a quick glance behind him, and was unsurprised to see the cave entrance was gone, as was Lupa. The Prowler stared frontwards, drinking in the sight of the whole of Rome and the rising sun.
He was not foolish enough to believe that he could do this by himself. He needed allies, compatriots, those willing to stand against the tide. He needed an army, one large enough to be feared, yet small enough to hide underground.
So that's what the reincarnation of Faris Ibn-La'Ahad set out to do: raise an army.
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1503
August 18
Isola Tiberina
"That is the story of Virgil Cavaliere," Lupa said. "His family stood against the Borgia and lost their lives in the process, all at the hands of the Followers of Romulus, that disgusting cult that drags my son's name into the mud, and his lover was killed shortly after his family. After that, he made allies out of you two and the past mistress of the Rosa in Fiore, and raised an army that lines the streets of Rome.
"Now that you know this, I take my leave." Lupa turned around, her dress and hair swishing behind her, but Ezio stopped her.
"Wait, I have a question?"
Lupa cocked a brow. "Just one?"
"Well, many, but only one that is pertinent."
"Then ask, and if I should desire to answer, I will."
"What are you going to do now?"
"I'm going to tend to my student, and make sure he is set on the right path once more, and that he does not abandon Claudia. I like them, they make a good couple."
Ezio blinked. "Uh...grazie."
Lupa simply nodded, and almost made it to the stairs before Machiavelli spoke.
"Madonna Lupa, if I may…"
"Yes?"
"Will you ever present yourself to us again?"
"Look to see me no more."
With that, the goddess disappeared up the stairs and out of sight. No heard the door open and then close, and no one heard her footsteps against the stone. One curious woman walked forward and looked up, only to see no one there.
Trippy.
"What do we do now?" Claudia asked, her eyes red.
Ezio kneeled down in front of her, and took her hands in his own. "Do not worry, sister. The goddess will handle Virgil, and if he still refuses to see reason, I will drag his culo here to you."
Claudia cracked a grin, and wiped her eyes. "Thank you, Brother."
Ezio nodded. Then he stood, and everyone that was standing became a little straighter as they registered the Master's aura.
"Everyone, the time of the Borgia has come. The Banker is dead, the Baron is dead, and Pietro's key is in our possession. Cesare returns to Roma tomorrow, which means I will be there as well. Brothers, sisters, I will need your help in this. Are you with me?"
The halls of Isola Tiberina resonated with the shouts of over 50 Assassins.
Ezio nodded. "Bene. Now all of you get some rest. This war ends tomorrow."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Okay, that was longer than expected, and it took a lot longer than it should have. I'm sorry.
Now, etymology. Virile means 'manly' in Italian. Aquila is coming straight from ACIII, and Anita just sounded appropriate. Emiliana Santi is one of Brotherhood's autogenerated Assassin Recruit names.
So, this was the darkest chapter in this story so far, with incest, torture, murder, death by feces, underage, graphic depiction of death, and what basically amounts to rape via wolf teeth. However, I believe this chapter answers the questions of why Che Si hates the Followers of Romulus and the Borgia so much.
Next chapter will be the concluding one of the Second Life arc, and the official shelving of this story. Do not complain; I've spent months on this one already, and we've hit 300+ reviews. My other fics need attention too.
Fav, Follow, and Review please!