Florence 1497

Two distressed young men sat on the olive-sofa in their home, for the first time in years, yet the moment wasn't as cheerful as either had imagined. Their grandfather hovered above them, with his mouth open almost as if he was planning on saying something, but he had found himself speechless. Lovino's hazed eyes didn't move from his hands which fiddled incessantly with the ring that lie on his right hand. He could feel the vibrations of his younger brother shaking through the seat however he couldn't find it in him to move his eyes anywhere else lest the memories come back.

Their grandfather cleared his throat and his voice came out shaky, "Boys,"

He didn't want to raise his eyes at all, he definitely didn't want to see the fear that he had heard in his Nonno's voice, the fear that he had always thought to be nonexistent.

"Boys," His voice was stronger now, gentle yet insistent.

Lovino's eyes shifted slowly and carefully up to meet the ones that waited for him, his hands continued to fiddle and his attention was only partially given. He heard his brother sniffle and felt a shift in the seating which told him his brother was also giving his focus.

"I…" Their grandfather's eyes slid down to the ground after finding that he was unable to meet their questioning looks. This wasn't how this day was supposed to go at all. Finally he found he could choke out the words, "I'm sorry," He took a breath then lifted his eyes, knowing that this information was crucial. "As you two probably know, I- as a Templar, and you as my grandchildren- have an ancient feud, and I'm sorry, it's not fair." He took a breath once more, "Not fair at all."

Feliciano opened his mouth, and at first was silent but finally something came, however it was so weak it hardly sounded as though it was anything, "S-So are they planning t-to… kill us?" This question was followed by a fit of tears.

"No, of course not my child, I would never allow you to be in any position of unsafety." Their Nonno reassured leaning down to pat Feliciano's back, wiping the tears away with the back of his free hand.

"Obviously Florence isn't safe." Lovino was ashamed at how fragile his voice sounded.

"Yes." Their Nonno agreed, casting his eyes downwards.

There was a moment of silence as Lovino registered what the unspoken command was.

"No. There's no way." He felt the fear almost fade as a stronger emotion dominated.

"Lovino, there is no other choice." Their Nonno placed his hand gently on the boy's knee causing him to jerk away.

"What is it…?" Feliciano questioned, his eyes still blurred with tears and his head cocked to the side.

"I'm sending you two back." His voice was flat and monotonous; it had a slight strain to it, almost as if he was struggling to keep the emotion down.

"Back...like-" Feliciano's voice was now very quiet and he sounded like it would soon break.

"As in you will be going back with Signore Edelstein and Lovino back with Signore Carriedo." Their Nonno's voice was so close to being soaked in the emotion that Lovino knew was there, but he purposely cut of the sentence before he knew he wouldn't be able to control the sadness.

"No." Lovino felt his fists ball tightly and his teeth clench.

"Lovino, please try to understand-" His grandfather reached out to comfort him, but by the time it was rested on his grandson's arm, Lovino had shot up and it didn't appear as though he could be stopped.

"We just got here! It's been eight years." The rage in his voice was uncontrollable, his face held a tint of red, and his footsteps were loud and furious.

"Lovino-"

"No! Don't you ever talk to me again!" He sprinted up the stone steps and he nearly lost his way to his own bedroom, and the bleary eyes weren't helping much either. He slammed the door behind him and didn't even take a moment to glance around and take in the nostalgic scenery; he was quickly face-down in his pillows.

They no longer held his scent, instead they were wet- he didn't remember that. He wiped away the tears furiously, angry that he was sad and angry that he was looking forward to coming to Florence. It was all that assassin's fault.

After about five minutes of pillow-stifled sobs, Lovino sat up on the bed and tried to peer behind the curtains of the window he remembered always staring out of late at night when he should have been asleep. The stars he remembered hadn't shown yet, it was early evening, the sun would soon set.

He groaned at the bright light that temporarily blinded him and he turned away, pushing himself back into the pillows. They were soft and cool, he had to admit, and as he slipped his body under the linen sheets, he couldn't help but appreciate the soft featherbed that had once held him every night. With his tear-fading eyes he admired the looming canopy above, he'd always thought of it as somewhat of a guardian, protecting him as he slept. As he gazed up, he didn't realize the change in his blinking as it became more frequent and his eyelids heavier. He drew his knees closer to his torso and closed his eyes one last time before he had departed from consciousness into sleep.

He peaked up from behind the thin sheet, his eyes frantically glanced around the dark room, it was cold and nearly empty aside from an obviously seldom-used fireplace. He waited for the inevitable, he knew it was coming and he couldn't stop his violent shaking nor his quick heartbeat.

BOOM

He jumped up quickly ducking himself under the only cover he had. He observed from under the sheet how the room became extremely bright for a second, then faded back to dark. He glanced up once more, sucking in his breath and holding a nearby pillow tightly.

A loud knocking came and Lovino jumped up and nearly fell off of the bed, when he noticed the absence of the bright light he realized it was a knock.

"What do you want?" His voice wasn't very strong however it obviously held distaste.

"Lovino, please let me in! It's alright if you're afraid of the storm, I will comfort you throughout it." The stupid jerk's voice drifted in through the silence.

"No, go away! I want my Nonno!" He grasped the sheet back over his head and he felt the hot tears roll down his face.

"Lovino… please…" Signore Carriedo's voice was a gently whisper now.

"NO!" Lovino was sobbing now and the lightning came and the large sound shook the room and he was so afraid and he felt so alone.

"N-Nonno…" He whispered and fingered the ring on his right hand, he wished that the gift could serve as a means of teleportation, however it's dark ruby color and gold frame with the engraved 'Vargas' could do nothing but promise that one day, he would see his Nonno again.

A blinding flash of lightning and the deafening stroke of thunder shook all of Spain.

Lovino sat up quickly his eyes widened and his breathing quick and gasping. He frantically grasped onto the sheets that surrounded him, his eyes flying all over the room, then he realized where he was. He almost sighed with relief and he felt his heart beat slow. It was his room this time. His eyes slid over the large bed, his house in Italy, not in Spain. He used the back of his hand to push away the slight perspiration, pushed away the linen sheet, and swung his legs out over the edge of the bed.

He peeked through the curtains once more and was greeted with stars and darkness like the welcome he remembered. He pushed off of the bed and stood in front of the window, thinking of the cool outside. He placed his fingers on the curtains and hesitated for a moment before hastily pushing them away. He pressed his fingertips against the glass lightly and leaned in close and watched his reflection leave his breath on the window. He grew impatient with himself and pushed open the cottage windows, he closed his eyes as the breeze swept in.

He pushed his face outside and peered up towards the roof, for some reason it looked oddly welcoming that evening. He placed a foot on the window sill and only questioned his actions for a moment before he swung the other one up. He looked down and took note of the shelf that had been installed with the intention of holding flowers however he remembered the letter he had been sent the fifth month of being away which stated the death of his pot of daisies which he'd loved so much. He found himself staring at the empty shelf for far longer than he should have. He scolded himself and directed himself instead to his insane task.

He carefully placed his foot onto the shelf, then after testing its strength, he put the second onto it. The roof was close enough and flat to the point where his success now fully relied on his upper body strength. He lied his hand onto the roof above him, his arm was stretched out and his hand lied flat. He used that arm to push himself up as high as he could, then his next arm was used to grab onto the roof, then he used both to push himself onto the roof. His breath was a bit faster than usual, however he didn't do that every day and he was almost proud of himself.

His eyes scanned the view and his breath was caught in his chest. The city of Florence looked spectacular in the night, even if he didn't have quite a 'bird's eye view' it still was beautiful. Homes, shops, and churches decorated the scene providing darkness against the masterpiece of the sky that was provided that night. The countless stars with aid from the half milky crescent moon provided a scene that should have been under the brush of an artist.

Lovino continued to stare in awe, until he noticed that the painting was changing, something flew across his vision. He shot his eyes towards the dark figure which he knew was there. Lying in the distance was the silhouette of a man. No it was no man, Lovino stared forward his mouth drying and his face paling, anything that was capable of that, was no man. There was no mistaking it, that figure with all of its terrible grace and cruelty was the assassin. Regardless of the rebirth of nausea and the thoughts of the dead Gallo, he couldn't help himself from admiring the silhouette's carefree jumps and swiftness, it almost appeared as a bird, cutting through the air fearlessly. He gazed at it until he realized that it had come to a stop, it was numerous rooftops away and its body was undoubtedly facing in Lovino's direction. His first reaction was interest in the figure, why was it stopping it's flight, why would his body be facing towards him? Then he snapped out of his star-struck admiration and realized, this is a killer, a killer who wants you dead.

Lovino backed away clumsily, nearly tripping, just wanting to disappear from the murderers view. The last thing his grandfather would think is 'I told him'. He took a large step back with haste and tripped onto the roof, he returned his stare back to the assassin with fear that he might take advantage of his vulnerable position, however that didn't seem to be the case. The assassin, from what Lovino could interpret seemed to cock his head to the side? No, that wasn't possible, the hood must have disorientated his sight. It didn't matter anyway because by the time he was back onto his feet the figure was on its way, it dashed out of sight. Lovino found himself continuing to gaze where he disappeared with awe-stricken eyes.

He snapped himself out of it with frustration, he shouldn't be on the roof, he was such an idiot what was he thinking? He climbed down quickly and ducked into his room, slamming the windows and shoving the curtains together. He jumped into the bed and pulled the cover to his chest, his eyes staring up. After a few minutes of forcefully closed eyes and an empty mind, he felt restless, he needed to confront these thoughts and now.

Was he really interested in the damned assassin that threatened everything he had wanted? No way in hell. It was just his birdlike movements and- Damnit no. Why would he do something so reckless like climbing onto the roof, was he an idiot? It didn't matter he didn't regret any of it. He closed his eyes tightly in frustration to his thoughts. They were all rushing around his head and some that demanded to be seen he had to push, push away. He wanted to put his mind to rest and clear up everything, however again he found his eyes slipping down without his permission.

His eyes closed one last time with visions of an assassin gracefully jumping from roof to roof against the splendid palette given and the silhouettes of the many buildings of Florence.

A/N

Thanks so much for reading! Hope you're enjoying the story so far :)