Altaïr found it strangely relieving when he learned that horses were still the common mode of transportation. The two animals that Ezio chose for their journey to Florence seemed to be of a reasonably decent temperament. They liked Altaïr enough, at least. He found that they followed him whenever he was on foot. He would never let it be known, but Altaïr found the company of animals much more pleasant than that of humans. They never spoke a word against him. They were silent and observant at all times.
He thought Ezio could learn a lot from them.
"…and my father, he was Lorenzo's personal Assassin. You see, Lorenzo is a Medici, part of a very old family, and he has many enemies…"
Stay your blade, Altaïr thought to himself. If only this boy would learn to stay his tongue.
Night fell upon the land before they reached Florence. Altaïr felt himself beginning to tire already, and it seemed unusual. His mind grew full of an uncomfortable haze as they left the horses behind and continued on foot. He was not of the right mindset for climbing unfamiliar buildings and scouting out the new city, but Ezio insisted that it was the fastest way to reach their destination, and so Altaïr followed him up the nearest wall using a series of handholds and soon found himself standing on the roof.
"You did well in Venezia," Ezio said with a sly smirk, "but let's see how you handle my Firenze."
With that, Ezio turned his back on Altaïr and dashed away across the rooftops. Altaïr growled under his breath as he chased after the man. He was hardly in the mood for games, and Ezio's incessant pride for his heritage was almost as annoying as his accent. More than once, Altaïr had to slow his pace in order to conquer the unusual obstacles in his way. He managed to catch up to Ezio soon enough, cleverly concealing his relief once they returned to the streets.
"Leonardo's workshop is in Venice now," Ezio said, prompting from Altaïr an immediate urge to punch someone. Ezio did nothing to hide his laughter at the other man's expression. "Do not worry. He has returned to Florence for a few days. Something about picking up a few old paintings; I don't know." He pounded on the door with one fist and opened it without waiting for a reply. "Leonardo?"
"Ezio!" another man cried. Altaïr heard the sounds of things being thrown aside and crashing to the floor. "Sorry. How are you? Why have you followed me to Venice?"
Ezio laughed and walked inside, motioning for Altaïr to follow. The other Assassin stepped through the doorway hesitantly. He was unsure if he could stand to hear the sounds of two of them speaking at once. Ezio's tone changed from friendly to grim. "Something very strange has happened." He waved a hand at Altaïr. "This man is an Assassin…I think."
Altaïr nodded. "My name is Altaïr."
Leonardo's eyes went wide. "Are you of relation to the man who wrote the codex?"
He frowned. "I have done no such thing."
"Hm…" Leonardo thought for a moment before having a sudden realization. "But where are my manners? I am Leonardo da Vinci."
"What were we supposed to gain from traveling here?" he abruptly asked Ezio.
"Leonardo is a genius," Ezio answered, still with that note of pride in his voice. He clapped his friend on the shoulder. "Perhaps if you would explain how you arrived here-"
"If only I knew," Altaïr snapped. "I was on a mission, trying to kill a traitor. Just before my blade met his heart, everything…changed." The cold confidence in Altaïr's tone fizzled away into uncertainty.
"Where are you from?" Leonardo asked, hoping to break the strange silence that had fallen between them.
"Masyaf," Altaïr said. He was quiet for a second. "And it was 1191 when I left."
The air went silent again. Altaïr studied the faces of the two men with curious expressions standing before him. Leonardo's eyes had a spark of genius within, however muddled through the confused look on his face. His gaze traveled quickly over Ezio's arrogant features, but it soon froze on a tiny snip of white near the man's lip.
"How did you get this?" Altaïr asked suspiciously, motioning towards the scar.
"It is not important," Ezio answered. Altaïr felt the sound of hurt pride in his tone and made a note to bring it up again if ever he wished for the man to fall silent through a method other than a blade. "You cannot possibly be so old, my friend. Unless you have discovered a fountain of youth."
"I have told you before. I do not know how I came here."
"What happened to your hand?" Leonardo asked suddenly, shining eyes trained on Altaïr's left hand. The assassin raised his hand to eye level to study it, wondering what the man was talking about for only a moment.
"It is the mark of an Assassin," he said plainly, referring to the sizeable gap between his middle and pinky fingers. He flicked his wrist to allow the hidden blade to appear, watching as it gleamed in the wavering firelight. "A small sacrifice, and one we all must make."
"Really?" Ezio questioned, raising one eyebrow and smirking. He jerked both wrists so that his hidden blades sprang into view and opened his arms, wiggling his fingers behind the twin knives. "In that case, it seems I should be missing two fingers."
Altaïr could do very little to calm the fire of fury that had begun to burn inside of him. It was one thing to be dragged across cities and rooftops by an arrogant boy, but it was another entirely to be mocked by one of a lesser status than he. The idea that he had lost his finger for nothing did not even cross his mind; it was the idea that Ezio was flouting all Assassin decorum, defying every rule laid down by centuries of tradition, that insulted him the most. In a flash, Altaïr was behind him, restraining both of his arms with one hand and holding the hidden blade to his throat.
"You are no Assassin, boy," Altaïr growled. "Do not forget this."
"I think everyone should calm down," Leonardo said nervously, putting his hands together so that his fingertips met. Altaïr released Ezio and grudgingly returned the blade to its hiding place, but the cutting glare he gave the man was almost as intimidating. "It doesn't really matter how you got here, Altaïr. You're here now, and it must be for a reason."
"What makes you think so, Leonardo?" Ezio asked, still eyeing the other Assassin warily. "It could be an accident. Or perhaps he is a madman."
Altaïr could hear the words, but he was no longer listening. He had retreated to a shadowed corner of the shop and was lying down on the floor. He was asleep within minutes, exhausted from the bizarre day's events and silently hoping that he would wake up to find it all a nightmare.
"Something is not right about him," Ezio muttered quietly, glancing over at Altaïr from time to time. "His story is impossible, for one thing."
"I suppose anything is possible," Leonardo said with a shrug. He turned away from Ezio and bent over his desk, collecting several scattered papers and sorting them into various piles. "Perhaps things will make better sense in the morning."
Considering his friend's words to signal the end of the conversation, Ezio found a place to sleep as well, though he did not slip into unconsciousness without a final glance at Altaïr's unmoving form. He decided that the man could not be fully trusted.
Footsteps near his head woke Ezio hours later. He opened his eyes and sat up halfway before realizing that he was not in any immediate danger and that it had only been his reflexes to wake him up. Once his head cleared, he realized that Altaïr was walking. The other Assassin seemed not to have noticed his movements and silently slipped through a window. Ezio wasted no time and moved to follow him, wondering what he might be up to.
It was not long before Altaïr found himself sitting on an eagle's perch on a high tower once again. Despite his intense fatigue, he could not sleep soundly for more than a few minutes at a time. His mind swam with thoughts of many things, of how he might return to his own time, if at all. He wanted to question whether he had even truly left the year 1191, but things looked so different that it was becoming more difficult not to accept that he had skipped three hundred years of time. He closed his eyes and breathed a deep sigh, letting cool night air curl into his lungs.
"Enjoying the evening?" Ezio's voice called from the roof, breaking and crumbling Altaïr's momentary serenity.
"I was." He crept off of the perch and stepped onto the roof, standing to his full height. He did not quite tower over Ezio, but with the moon backlighting his movements, he certainly seemed to. "Why have you followed me?"
"I don't trust you," Ezio said plainly. "This tale you tell…of traveling through time. I do not believe it."
"I know not what else to tell you," Altaïr answered. He looked back out at the city again. "I would like to be left alone."
Ezio was unsure of how he would keep from throwing Altaïr off of the tower himself. "You never told me anything about your family," he said.
"And you told me all about yours." The distaste was obvious in his words. He suddenly turned back to stare Ezio down with a look of untamed fury in his eyes. "If you would like to see tomorrow, leave."
"I don't take orders from you," Ezio said. He pulled his sword from its sheath and held it in Altaïr's direction. "In fact, I have had just about enough of you. We should settle this now."
Altaïr just stared at him. He honestly expected to defeat a Master Assassin in combat when he could not even be counted among their ranks as a Novice? "As you wish."
It took all of five seconds for Altaïr to disarm Ezio and throw the sword off of the roof. It clanged and clattered against the walls of a narrow alleyway as it fell to the ground below. Ezio was at a loss for words as he saw the faintest trace of a smirk work its way onto Altaïr's face.
"Will you leave me alone now?"
A/N: I've played both games now, hence the slowness of this update. Consider this my Christmas gift to you. Also, I hate author's notes, so there won't be any more of these unless something goes catastrophically awry.
Also also, did anyone else notice that the Assassins' symbol is a staple remover?