DO NOTE that this story is NOT endorsed by the original holders of the intellectual rights or copyrights mentioned at the end of this chapter. This is a work of fanfiction based on the two original works, with the intent to amuse and distract its readers. There is absolute no intent to make money or otherwise deny the original copyright holders their given due. Should the original holders of the copyright be offended by my use of their rightful property, I will gladly take it down in accordance with Terms of Service of this website. Please support the official release(s) mentioned below.
...
If you feel the need to do so, ignore that lengthy disclaimer above - it's a paranoid habit of mine. In any case, welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the second chapter of On The Wings Of An Eagle. The response I've had from you, the readers, to the first chapter, was quite overwhelming, really. It certainly surprised me that quite a few people read it in such a short period of time, giving me a warm, fuzzy feeling in my stomach. Thank you for that. I decided to publish the second chapter a bit earlier than usual - one, because I already had finished writing it, and two, because I hope to appease those readers that seem to employ the terrifying Cliffhanger Commandos. My friends would undoubtedly complain about having to clean up the mess if I ever was brutally murdered over leaving my cliffhangers unresolved.
Please, enjoy yourself while reading this story, and if you liked or disliked it, be kind enough to leave a review. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I had writing it.
...
On The Wings Of An Eagle
Chapter II - Broken Wings
...
Ezio blinked.
This was strange. He was standing in plane of white nothingness, devoid of anyone and anything. It was simply blank, like one of Leonardo's pristine canvases before he would begin sketching and drawing. Utterly empty.
...Where am I?
Ezio took a tentative step forward, feeling solid ground underneath him that he couldn't see. And took another when he realized that he wasn't going to suddenly fall into blank nothingness. Ezio was nervous – he was used to see exactly where he put his hands and feet when climbing, jumping and falling. Being unable to see any ground made him extremely uncomfortable.
...Is this the afterlife?
But that made no sense, he reasoned. There was no afterlife. The teachings that his mother had admired so – all lies, illusions made up by tricked men following keepers of ancient artefacts. There was no afterlife, no great cosmic power guiding the hands of men.
Only teachings left behind by dead men in riddles and books.
Ezio realized that he was wearing the black robes and Altair's armour, the polished metal black as night. Curiously, they weren't stained with blood. His weapons were in their allotted sheathes, pristine, as if they had never been used. His injuries had disappeared as well, the pain in his side gone.
Intriguing.
Ezio turned around, trying to see through the white landscape surrounding him. "Hello?" he called out loudly, his voice echoing strangely. "Can anyone hear me?"
He heard an odd sound, a muted susurrus that nagged at his ears, increasing in intensity from moment to moment. Ezio turned around frantically, unable to find its source, gritting his teeth.
"My name is Ezio Auditore da Firenze, former Grand Mentor of the Assassins!" he bellowed loudly, activating his heightened senses out of pure fury. "I demand you show yourself!"
All of a sudden the muted whisperings came to a stop, as if hushing at his outburst.
And then the blank landscape changed.
Proud buildings he'd never seen before, ancient ruins lying decayed at the bottom of the ocean.
A desert, scorching him with its blasting winds, sand swirling in patterns that only Bedouins could understand.
A jungle, lush and colourful with trees taller than Florence's cathedrals and vines intertwining between them until they reached a green canopy where the sun shone through.
A forest, the hills green as he smelt pines and moss, puddles of rain remaining as storm clouds disappeared.
Tall spires, as beautiful and transparent as glass made by Venetian craftsmen, standing serenely as they pointed to the sky.
High mountains, a storm raging on a rugged pass as snowflakes blew past him, peaks that no man could reach stunning in their cold and unassailable beauty.
Each image lasted no more than an instant before being replaced by another. Ezio watched, fascinated, as more and more landscapes flashed past his mind. Some he knew, some he'd heard of, and some he'd never seen before.
No, 'image' was the wrong word for this spectacle – Ezio felt as if he was actually standing in these breathtaking landscapes, feeling the heat and cold, smelling the plants and tasting the snowflakes on his tongue. It was just so... real.
And then he suddenly stood in a dark nothingness. Planets and stars appeared, the stars littering the dark sky, the coloured orbs moving slowly, portentously in their assigned ellipses. Ezio just watched, fascinated.
Well, it does look like Copernicus was right after all... Leonardo would be pleased.
He took another step forwards, entranced by the display of the heavenly bodies.
"Greetings, Prophet."
He turned around faster than he had in years, coming face-to-face with a heavenly figure wearing ancient robes, a golden helmet set around blazing eyes and a gentle smile, her beauty as ethereal as the day he first saw her.
Ezio knew this face well. He'd never forgotten it. "Minerva," he breathed out.
She nodded gracefully, carefully composed. "I have to admit that this meeting is... unexpected," she spoke, her voice distorted and wavering. "I thought you had already fulfilled your duty."
Ezio didn't ask the goddess what she meant. He had already asked questions once, and she had ordered him to be silent, denying him answers with harsh finality. He was sure that she'd do it again without a second thought.
"Truly unexpected," Minerva said quietly, her figure flickering with light.
Ezio's irrepressible nature broke through and he smirked. "Am I too unpredictable even for the gods?"
"Not gods," the robed figure corrected. "Just... the Ones Who Came Before, as mortal and fallible as your race."
He scoffed in disbelief. "So far, I'm not exactly convinced of your inferiority, Minerva. Everything I have seen of your temples, everything I have found of your legacy... it convinces me otherwise."
She fixed him with a steely stare that reminded him of the legends of old, of the Greek Athena, the legendary goddess of wisdom and war, terrifying in her insight and beauty. "We were fallible. We were mortal. We sought to circumvent death, to extend our lives. And we achieved that goal, living for centuries in this land with your ancestors as our servants."
The scenery around them changed and Ezio saw a city of tall spires collapsing and burning, heard screams of despair that ended harshly and suddenly, a planet, its surface lined with veins of fire, appearing in the darkness of space. "And still we were blown away like ashes on the wind, while your people survived our mistakes."
Ezio remained silent. He knew all this already.
Minerva's eyes never left him, and again he felt as if his soul was being examined, felt the need to fall to his knees and offer his services and fealty, swear loyalty–
He ruthlessly squashed that urge. An Assassin answers to no one.
"Good," Minerva murmured, a smile playing on her lips. "You're strong, far stronger than your weak-willed ancestors that followed us without questioning our motives, without doubting our intentions, without realizing our faults. Men like you made your race strong, made it survive against all odds in dark times."
Ezio just stared defiantly at her, and her smile widened. "There is a reason we made you our Prophet. Now," she held out a hand, her gaze once more growing stern, "give me the artefact in your possession."
"What artefact? I don't have it with m–" Ezio felt at his belt, where the heavy weight of the Apple of Eden in its pouch hung. He opened it incredulously, feeling the golden orb in his hand. He could have sworn it hadn't been there moments ago.
He looked at an expectant Minerva and frowned, but held out the ancient artefact anyway. The One Who Came Before held her hand over it, a string of light connecting the two.
Minerva's frown cleared up after a moment of contemplation into sudden understanding. "Ah." Her eyes focused on Ezio, sharp and terrifying. "It seems that your duties are not quite finished, Prophet."
Ezio stared at her, not understanding. "My duties? ...I am dead, Minerva. Dead and dying."
"Dead in one world..." Minerva whispered. She suddenly disappeared in a flicker, the planets dissolving and the stars becoming streaks of light. Ezio looked around frantically as he felt the darkness dissolving like water before he was engulfed in a flash of light.
"...but not in the other."
...
The strike of lightning rocked the whole courtyard and Colbert could have sworn later that he heard the ancient walls of the Academy sing out, imbued as they were with centuries of enchantments. A thick cloud of dust had sprung up from the force that struck the summoning circle, cloaking the whole courtyard in ash and dirt. Colbert could hear the terrified screams of his students as they were robbed of their sight.
He gritted his teeth, repressing memories that threatened to cripple him and swung his staff in a wide arc, snarling out the ancient tongue.
A gust of powerful wind rushed through the courtyard, carrying the dust to the heavens, revealing a mass of bedraggled students that had fallen over themselves to get away from the circle in the yard's centre, some groups getting furiously entangled in their haste to get away and now unable to get up. In any other situation, the cursing students and the awkward moment as girls and boys disentangled themselves with excuses and blushes would have amused Colbert.
But right now he was angry. He rounded on Louise, lying behind him on the ground where he'd thrown her to protect her from whatever erratic reaction her magic had caused. The girl looked shell-shocked, gaping at the chaos around her. "Mademoiselle de la Vallière," he snapped, making her jump. "Would you care to explain what in the Founder's name you have just done?"
"I have no idea!" she exclaimed desperately, getting to her feet. "The circle wasn't supposed to work like that, I swear! You went over the design yourself, remember? This shouldn't have happened, Professor!"
"Oh, shut your trap, Vallière!" a pudgy student bellowed as he got to his feet, shooting her an angry glare. "Isn't there anything you can do without making something else explode? Even with a perfect summoning circle, you nearly blew us all back to the Homeland!"
"Shut up already, Malicorne!" Louise shot back, her anger flaring. "Suck it up like the man you're supposed to be, instead of complaining like a whining child!"
"Whether he complains or not, Malicorne has a valid point!" Guiche, who'd 'accidentally' fallen on top of one of his female admirers, graciously helped the blushing girl to her feet before accusingly pointing his rose wand at Louise. "Your incompetence will be the doom of us all, Vallière! When are you going to stop endangering your classmates and dishonour your family name with your failures?"
"An incompetent fop who is more interested in chasing skirts than furthering his education should not talk to me about honour, Gramont!" Louise hissed, her face red with anger.
"At least I'm competent enough to contract a summons, while you even failed that simple task!"
"QUIET!"
Colbert glared at his students, stalking into their midst with his staff raised, his eyes glinting with cold fury. They stepped back in fear as he approached, some of them nearly falling back down into the dirt after just dusting themselves off.
The Professor formerly known as the Flame Snake looked each student in the eye, terrifying them into staying silent. "I will not tolerate useless bickering. You are supposed to be nobles – people who will carry great responsibility in this country. Senseless quarrels and insults solve nothing, so you will refrain from it in my presence. Do I make myself clear, ladies and gentlemen?"
After a round of terrified nods and whimpered 'yessirs', the teacher whirled to face Louise, addressing her in a far calmer manner. "Now, can anyone tell me what the hell just happened, or is this as incomprehensible to you as it is to me?"
Louise's shoulders slumped as Colbert fixed her with a cold stare. Even if he had supported her all those years, she knew that he wouldn't let accidental harm to her students slide. She looked at her feet, shamefaced. "Professor," she began, "I have honestly no idea–"
"What in the Founder's name..." she heard Colbert mutter, students gasping in shock and surprise an instant later. She peeked up at him, but he was no longer looking at her. His eyes were narrowed, staring intently past her shoulder at something behind her. She turned around and stared as well, gobsmacked.
The summoning circle that she'd carved, that she thought was faulty was still there – no, it had grown bigger with runes, symbols and lines that she hadn't drawn, stretching out in a wider radius than she had even thought was possible with the art of summoning. The symbols were glowing with a blinding gold that was reflecting the sun in the sky with a bright, fiery sheen. But that wasn't really what had caught Louise's eye.
A man was kneeling at the very centre of the summoning circle, clad in black robes and a black half-cape that pooled around his feet, his face concealed by a hood of the same colour. The newcomer was not moving, but seemed to be watching them carefully, his eyes hidden by the strange beaked design of his hood.
Louise couldn't be sure of that, though. She couldn't see his eyes, and for some reason, that fact utterly terrified her.
"Well, mademoiselle," Colbert murmured absent-mindedly, "it seems as if you actually did summon a creature. Fascinating."
...What?
"An unusual case, summoning a human, to be sure." Colbert glanced at her, his eyes quickly snapping back to the ever-still newcomer in the circle. "...Aren't you going to seal the contract?"
Louise stared at him as if he'd grown several heads and declared himself to be the successor to the Void. "What? Seal the contract with him?" she asked, her voice growing shrill.
"Mademoiselle de la Vallière, you were the one who summoned him," Colbert said firmly. "Either you accept the contract, or you will... endure the consequences of a failed ritual." The professor grimaced. "It is, of course, your choice, though I would suggest you take the chance while you still have it."
...Can't I try again? She didn't want this human as a familiar. She wanted a magical creature, a proud, powerful, noble beast, not some strange human drawn from God-knows-where.
The question, as childish and petty as it was, had nearly left her mouth when she understood the serious look that Professor Colbert gave her. She remembered him telling her that repeating the ritual was impossible according to the Founder's laws. He was giving her a last chance.
She turned around and carefully approached the kneeling human. If she hadn't been so focused on her task and dreading it, she might have noticed Professor Colbert carefully stepping to the side, giving him a clear line of sight to the strange man, his staff at the ready. The old soldier was taking no chances.
The man hadn't moved, though Louise thought he saw his head follow her as she approached. Again, she couldn't be sure. His utter stillness unnerved her, as if she was prey to a falcon ready to pounce.
She stopped three paces in front of him. "Er... Excuse me?" He didn't react. She waved. "Hello?"
The other students chuckled and Louise flushed an angry red. None of the other students had bothered to talk to their familiars first; they had simply contracted them and went on with their business. Again, Louise felt as if she was making a fool of herself.
She cursed under her breath and raised her wand, starting to chant. The man's hood tilted sideways, as if questioning what she was doing. "Pentagon of the five elements, accept..."
Her words petered out when the man fell forward to the ground in a heap of black robes, utterly still. Louise waited a moment before approaching, trying to turn him over, a task that was made nearly impossible thanks to her small stature and strength.
The other students laughed at her as she struggled to lift up the man lying on the ground. Louise snarled in anger as she gripped him under his arms. She suddenly felt something wet and drew her hand back in disgust.
And then she realized that her uniform was completely sullied with blood. Her familiar's blood.
Louise saw her bloodied hands and did the only thing she thought was reasonable. She screamed and fainted.
The last she heard were Colbert's panicked shouts for a healer, shouts and shocked whispers. For once, she was glad that she couldn't understand them as the black took her.
...
Don't just stand there and gawk! You! Get a healer and a stretcher, for goodness' sake! We have to get him to the infirmary!
Ezio honestly had no idea where he was, and he couldn't have cared less. He felt as if he was floating, feeling weightless, as if he was again leaping from great heights. It reminded him of his youth. He heard whispers, but he took no heed of them.
Jean, what are you doing here? ...Seigneur, what happened to this man? Who is he?
No time to talk, Sister; he's losing blood fast! Where the hell do we put him!
This bed here – it's close to the potions cabinet... Careful! Don't jolt him!
Ezio decided to dream for a bit. He didn't have much opportunity to do so before. He remembered hunting across rooftops with Federico, his older brother showing him the tricks of the trade he'd learned from some thieves he knew. He remembered Federico smiling roguishly as they both climbed to the very top of a church, looking out at Florence stretching out beyond. He remembered Federico teaching him how to fight without weapons, how to throw punches and kicks, where to punch and how to block and grapple with someone who wished you harm. Ezio had learned these lessons well, using them throughout the rest of his life.
Goodness, he's a walking armoury!
Get him out of that damn breastplate; I can't treat his wound that way!
How do you take these bracers off? I need to get at his veins!
Ezio had always been the fastest and most agile, leaping across the city's roofs as fast as the eagle he was named after, his step sure and swift. Federico had been the strongest, able to pummel men twice his size even when outnumbered four to one, leaving them to spit out teeth and piss blood for a week.
Petrucchio had been different from his two brothers. Their youngest brother had always been sickly, preferring to remain with his teachers at home, learning how to run numbers and apply geometry, reciting poetry and reading the writings of long dead Romans like Juvenal and Ulpian. When he was confined to bed with yet another bout of fever, which was unfortunately far too often, he would start to throw knives out of boredom. When he later showed off to his brothers, he could hit targets as far as forty paces away without effort, his delicate hands even more lethal than the fists and boots of his oldest brother. Petrucchio delighted in teaching his awed siblings how to adjust their aim and how to throw farther and more accurately than before, and they thanked him by bringing him feathers that he gifted to their mother, who smiled and tried to stop worrying about him.
We need another blood-replenishing potion! ...Curse it, I'll get two! He must have lost four or five pints already!
We can't close this wound – it's punctured his lung. How in the name of the Founder and His saints did he survive this long with such a severe injury?
Have you seen his body? This isn't the first wound he has received... Penetrating trauma and damage to the respiratory organ, then? How do you propose to heal that one?
Stop the blood flow for now and apply pressure. This is a difficult case. We can't just close it up like a normal laceration; it would suffocate him if the lung is unable to expand afterwards. Hmm...
Ezio remembered happy times and decided not to think past the horrible moment when he saw his two brothers and father hung from the gallows, consoling his weeping sister and helplessly watching his mother kneeling in a room in the villa in Monteriggioni, locked in silent prayer and refusing to speak to him for years on end.
He'd avenged them, yes, three times over – but sometimes Ezio wondered if he'd done it because of justice, or to simply get away from his grieving family, burying himself in violence and conspiracies so he wouldn't have to think about them. In a way, he'd welcomed growing old and forgetful. His dead family haunted his dreams less and less.
How old is he?
I don't know, I would guess over sixty, close to seventy. Is that important?
Yes it is, you dolt! The spell works by accelerating cell growth and division, remember? If we bungle this, he'll end up dying even if we heal his wound! Especially when it comes to such a delicate organ as the lung. Why did he have to get injured there of all places?
In my experience, people rarely get violently stabbed in places where it won't cause a painful death.
None of your cynicism, Jean, we have better things to do. You'll provide the power for this spell and I'll channel and direct it. Understand?
Yes, Sister; no need to get snappish. Dieu au ciel, you healers are all the same everywhere, I swear...
Oh, shush. On my count, then. Three, two, one!
Ezio just wanted to sleep. He remembered something. Yes, he'd been somewhere. A fortress... Or was it a courtyard? He'd died there, or fell asleep, or something. His thoughts were clouded and there were whispers at the edge of his mind. He couldn't understand them, and they troubled him.
Sleep sounded like a good idea right now. Perhaps then he wouldn't hear the whispers anymore.
...
Ezio opened his eyes, blinking once in the bright light that surrounded him. He'd been having a rather odd dream. He'd dreamt of Minerva again, her enigmatic conversation still in his mind.
He closed his eyes, immediately, his eyes stinging. It was far too bright, as if he was surrounded by ethereal light. For a moment, he thought he was back in that odd realm where he'd met Minerva, but he realized that that couldn't be the case. He couldn't be dead, either, for a number of reasons. Ezio had always imagined death to be cold and unfeeling. He was far too comfortable for that to be the case.
Ezio opened his aged eyes carefully, taking a look at his surroundings. He was lying in a bed, cushioned and warm, at the end of a long narrow room with a high ceiling. The stonework was solid and worn, definitely that of an old castle or fortress. The room had two rows of beds set against its walls (all unoccupied), high windows set between each bed, the stained glass giving the room a soft, multicoloured glow. Ezio's bed was at the very end of the room next to the largest window. He looked up at it, trying to make out the details in the glasswork.
He narrowed his eyes, straining, until he made out a man dressed in noble robes, a sword in one hand and a book in the other, his face grave and dignified, a crown on his head surrounded by a bright halo. The light broke like a prism through the multicoloured windowpanes, shining directly onto Ezio's bed and warming his old bones.
For a moment, the old Assassin wanted to thank him like an old friend.
He heard hurried steps. "You're awake!" an elated voice called out happily. A woman, speaking French.
Ezio flinched and made to leap out of bed, his reflexes taking over, but a sudden lance of pain made him fall into bed. He groaned, clutching the side of his torso, feeling thick bandages there. He clenched his eyes shut.
"I'm terribly sorry!" the voice called out remorsefully. "I didn't mean to startle you!" A small hand was put to his forehead. "Your fever's gone down, thank goodness," she muttered.
Ezio blinked rapidly, not understanding. "...Fever?"
"You shouldn't try to get out of bed, you know," the woman chided. "You were asleep for two days straight – we thought that you'd never wake up! The mistress is going to be relieved, she was terribly worried..."
"I do beg your pardon for interrupting, signorina," Ezio spoke, surprised at how raspy his voice sounded. "But where am I?"
Now that he could get a good look at her, he saw that she wasn't really a woman. Not yet. A girl, perhaps – barely grown to adulthood, her black hair was cropped short so that it reached her shoulders. She was wearing a black servant's uniform with a nurse's cap on her head, quick eyes quickly taking in everything there was to see.
"Oh dear! That's right, you have no idea what happened, do you?" Again, the girl looked remorseful as she jumped up. "Wait right here, I'll get the matron; she'll explain everything to you! Stay put, you need to rest!"
And with that, the girl quickly stepped along the length of the room through a large door, disappearing before Ezio could a word in edgewise.
For a moment, he just stared after hear, jaw agape. He snapped it shut a moment later and chuckled. Well, they haven't killed or horribly maimed me yet, so I don't think they wish me harm. I should be fine. And a pretty girl told me to stay in bed. Who am I to disobey the whims of a woman?
Ezio closed his eyes, resting them against the bright light and dozing. He felt weak, far weaker than he ever had before in his life. It was worrying and restful at the same time. His thoughts drifted, trying to understand how exactly he had found himself in this bed, recovering from injuries. He couldn't quite remember.
The door opened, and he heard the chattering nurse, still speaking French. He strained to understand them; he'd never heard this particular dialect before. "–still looks a bit weak, but his fever's gone down immensely! He should be fine if we just give him something to eat, and–"
"Young lady, do be quiet," a chagrined voice interrupted her. "I've been listening to your jabbering for six minutes straight now, and it irks me. I've had to hear students complain and whine to me all day long, so could you give me a bit of peace now? Please?"
The girl flushed red as she stepped into the room. "Of course, Professor, terribly sorry about my constantly talking; I'll–"
The man entering after her threw his arms up in surrender. "I give up," he said resignedly. "There's no stopping you, is there?"
"Nothing can stop Siesta from talking," an amused woman's voice sounded as she stepped in behind the others, a smile on her lips. "I wager that the Elves could invade and she could make them retreat with her incessant chattering."
"A wager I'd rather not take, to be sure," the man muttered, rolling grey eyes before focusing them on the far bed where Ezio lay. Their eyes met and held.
Ezio's hearing was sharp, catching the man's whisper as he addressed the girl. "So he hasn't tried to attack you or escape?"
The girl frowned quizzically as mumbled back her reply. "No. Should he have?"
"Strange," the man whispered more to himself than anyone else, shaking his head. "Let's go introduce ourselves to our mysterious guest, then. We have many questions to ask."
That is far less inviting than a pretty nurse, Ezio thought as the group of three approached, steeling himself for whatever was to come.
The girl was leading the way, all cheerful smiles. The tall man coming after her was far older, the top of his head bald and the little hair visible at its back and sides greying. He wore simple blue robes, a long staff clutched in his right hand. But the most defining thing about him wasn't his dignified demeanour, at least not at first glance. When Ezio saw his eyes behind those spectacles, grey and feeling far too cold as they bored into his, he knew exactly who this man was. A killer like him. The way he moved and held himself ready to move at a moment's notice all betrayed it.
The middle-aged woman following after him seemed extremely pleasant in comparison. She was short and plump, a cheerful smile on her face as she came closer with rosy cheeks and a heavy step. She wore the same uniform as the girl she'd called 'Siesta', although in her case she reminded Ezio more of a wide black boat with a nurse's cap as its sail than anything else.
The thought made him chuckle, and he nodded at them with a smile on his lined face as they came closer. "I'm afraid that I'm inconveniencing you," he rasped, bowing at the waist in his bed and grimacing. "The young lady told me that I had been staying here for two days, doing nothing but sleeping and being a nuisance. Mi dispiace."
"Oh, I'm quite sure that that wasn't the only thing that Siesta told you," the older woman said wryly as the two adults pulled up rough wooden chairs around Ezio's bed. "She likes to talk. Frankly, on occasion I simply send her to attend to the patients I no longer wish to see in my infirmary. You'd be surprised at how quickly they suddenly want to leave, claiming that their illnesses have miraculously disappeared overnight. Quite fascinating."
Siesta, who had remained standing, turned an even deeper shade of red, taking the colour of a particularly healthy tomato.
"And I don't think you should worry about being a nuisance, monsieur," the woman continued, giving him a tired smile as Siesta spluttered out denials. "Rarely have I seen anyone in this school who has had greater need of a healer than you. It was definitely an experience treating you."
"Excuse me, signora, but could you explain to me what happened?" Ezio asked politely. "I'm afraid I have no recollection of the... events that led to me being in your care."
"To be completely honest, monsieur, neither do we," the man interrupted quietly, piercing eyes appraising Ezio carefully. "You were summoned onto our doorstep by one of our students during one of our traditional rituals, severely wounded. We healed you, none of us being any wiser as to who you were, what your intentions are, or," and there the man's eyes hardened, "who exactly inflicted those wounds on you."
Ezio met his stare head on, refusing to budge. He'd faced terrifying men before. Most of them had died. "I'm afraid I didn't catch your name, Messer..?"
"Colbert. Jean Colbert de Liège, Professor at the Tristain Academy of Magic." The man bowed his head in greeting, his eyes never leaving Ezio's. "An honour."
Ezio made a weak gesture with his hand, implying a courtly bow. "Ezio Auditore da Firenze, at your service." He gave Siesta a quick smile before addressing the woman seated next to Colbert. "I already know the lovely young lady's name, but I'm afraid we were never introduced, signora."
The woman gave him a cheerful smile and a nod. "My name is Sister Catherine, Nun of the Founder's Church and Matron of this infirmary. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Monsieur Auditore."
"Likewise, signora, and may I again extend my gratitude for your kind and generous treatment of my wounds," Ezio said, his charm returning. Even in old age, he tried to be pleasant company. "Rare are the places where injured travellers can expect help. It warms the heart to know that there are still some left in this cruel world."
"All who have ailments that I can cure are welcome here." Her face sobered for a moment. "And I'll offer rest and peace to those whom I can't heal. Fortunately, you weren't one of them."
There was an uncomfortable silence, broken by a fidgeting Siesta. "Your Halkeginian is very good, Monsieur Auditore," she said shyly. She looked down when Ezio turned to her, intrigued. "Your accent is a bit strange, but you speak our tongue very well. Where do you come from? Romalia?"
Ezio just stared at her, trying to make sense of their words. None of them made any sense. She spoke French – a language that he'd learned during his travels and perfected during various dalliances with pretty French girls in Florence and elsewhere – but none of the names she mentioned were familiar. Halkeginia? Romalia? He'd never heard of any of them.
"Excuse me, signorine, Messer," he said, hesitating. "But what is the name of the country I'm currently the guest of?"
Colbert raised a cool eyebrow. "You are in Tristain, one of the five great magical kingdoms on the Halkeginian continent, currently led by our most gracious Princess Henrietta, regent and heir to the throne. Are any of those names familiar to you?"
Ezio shook his head, honestly starting to worry. Colbert saw it and frowned. "Siesta, please fetch Mademoiselle de la Vallière. I'm sure she'll be quite interested in seeing the results of her summoning."
Siesta gave a small curtsy and a smile. "Of course, Professor. I'll be right back!"
Colbert still frowned at Ezio, even after the infirmary's door had closed after the excitable nurse. The professor grimaced. "It seems that my worst fears have been realized."
"Excuse me, professore, but what are you referring to?"
Colbert sighed, cradling his forehead. "I told you, monsieur, that you were summoned here by one of our students during a magical ritual. Now, my fear is–"
"Excuse me, did you just say it was a magical ritual?" Ezio interrupted, his expression incredulous.
Colbert looked up, blinking. "Yes, I did. Why do you ask?"
Ezio leaned back into his pillow, shaking his head decisively. "Ridiculous. Magic doesn't exist. What kind of trick are you trying to pull on me?"
Sister Catherine looked as if he had gone mad. "Magic doesn't exist? What kind of barbarian backwater are you from, not knowing the existence of the arcane arts?"
Ezio bristled at her accusation. "I come from a long line of distinguished merchants and bankers of the Republic of Firenze," he said, his voice proud. Even if part of it was a lie, the essentials were true. "And I have followed that tradition myself with great success." He considered them sternly, frowning. "And I have never heard of magic except in fairy tales my mother told me or the stories of drunken oafs in taverns."
"Yet here you are at the Tristain Academy of Magic, the premier magical school of our realm," Colbert said shrewdly. "That, monsieur, is a fact you cannot deny."
"Magic? Pah!" Ezio snorted, amused. "I'll believe it when I see it, professore, and not a moment before!"
Colbert sighed and tapped the bottom end of his staff on the ground. Flame roared from the other end, twisting and turning around him like a snake around its charmer, surrounding the middle-aged man without ever burning him. A gust of heat slammed into Ezio, making him flinch.
The professor gave the stunned Ezio a tired smile, the flames disappearing as quickly as they had come. "Is that enough proof for you, monsieur? Or shall I need to do more to convince you?"
Ezio noted dumbly that the fire hadn't even left scorch marks on the professor's robes. He was as immaculate as before. He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, and he doubted that it was because of the heat. "All right," he conceded slowly. "It would seem I was mistaken."
"Of course you were," Sister Catherine muttered, her voice sounding terribly annoyed. "A world without magic? What utter nonsense!" She shot Colbert an angry look. "And next time you decide to unleash Triangle-class fire magic in my infirmary, do have the decency to tell me beforehand, Jean!"
The professor chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his head in a sheepish manner. "Sorry, Sister. I promise it won't happen again."
"Hmph." Sister Catherine didn't seem entirely convinced.
"Moving on," Colbert said quickly, "it's exactly as I said, Monsieur Auditore. Magic does exist in our realm; it's even a vital part of our lives and our society! From your reaction, though, may I assume that your homeland does not have mages, wizards or warlocks?"
"You may assume so," Ezio said, having gotten his composure back. "This is a surprising development for me, to be honest." And I'm not easily surprised. Not after decades of secret war and bloodshed... not to mention the mysteries I have seen.
"Ah." The professor grimaced. "This will make the rest of my explanation rather... difficult, to say the least."
"What do you mean?" Ezio asked, suspicious.
Colbert sighed, resigned. "To be completely honest, that task shouldn't even fall to me. I'm not the one who summoned you here."
"Who is it, then? Who did this to me?" the old Assassin demanded.
The door to the infirmary opened and Colbert gave Ezio a sardonic smile. "Your new Master."
...
The last two days had been hell for Louise.
Two days were always set apart after the Springtime Summoning Ritual to allow the new masters to get to know their familiars better. Ironically, Louise had gotten what she wanted: she'd managed to summon a creature. The ritual had been successful.
And yet she was still bitter.
She'd seen the other students in the courtyard, spending time in each other's company and with their familiars, talking, laughing, simply spending time together and enjoying the sun. Louise had entered the courtyard once and had immediately heard whispers behind held hands as many eyes followed her. Apparently, her bizarre summoning and humiliating fainting spell in front of the whole school had been the talk of the whole school. Even the servants were discussing (in hushed tones, if course) the cause of the uproar among their noble masters.
People were talking. Again. Doubting that she had really summoned that being, doubting that she could perform magic, wondering why her human 'familiar' was in the infirmary, talking behind her back again. Louise cursed her sharp hearing, turned around and fled to the now empty library, burying herself in books.
Two days she spent there, leaving only to eat and sleep (and even then she had to be chased out by the wizened monk in charge of the shelves), going through tome after tome in an effort to find out what had gone wrong during her summoning. None of the grimoires mentioned cases where the summoning hadn't been instantaneous, where the colour or layout of the runes changed, or where a human being had been summoned instead of some sort of beast. She even thought about sneaking into the teacher's section where the oldest books were to be found, but she relented. She was already disdained enough because of her complete inability to use magic; she refused to take any more chances.
She'd wanted to see her summons but had been flatly refused by the Matron. "He's unconscious and weak from blood loss. I've rarely seen a man so wounded and still clinging to life. Any distraction could be dangerous, for all we know." The woman had raised a stern hand in dismissal. "You can't see him, young lady. I'll send a servant along when he wakes up. Now leave."
She'd tried to see Colbert, but her favourite teacher had locked himself in his laboratory, not speaking to anyone, the servants bringing him his meals. She'd wanted to hammer on the door, demanding entrance, before suddenly feeling afraid. What if he was disappointed in her performance? Had she failed him in some way? Was he angry with her?
In the end, she'd slunk away and returned to the library, unable to bring up the courage to see her teacher.
It was there that the nurse had found her, asleep on one of the many reading lecterns. Louise had glared at her when she had been awoken by a touch to the shoulder. "What do you want?" she'd hissed, furious at being caught in such an undignified manner.
The nurse had just shrunk away, her expression scared. "Sister Catherine sent me, mylady," she said meekly. "I'm to accompany you to the infirmary."
"And why would you do that?" Louise said, her tone disdainful. "I've been refused entry far too many times already."
"Your summons has awoken, mylady. He's conscious!" The nurse smiled, perhaps hoping to cheer her up. "Isn't that wonderful?"
"When I want the opinion of a servant, I'll ask for it myself," Louise snapped irritably, getting up from the lectern, not bothering to return her books. "Let's go," she ordered curtly.
The nurse gave a small curtsy that Louise ignored. "Mylady," she murmured quietly, following a step behind Louise as the young noble stormed away.
As Louise silently stalked through the corridors to the infirmary, people wisely stepped out of her way as they saw her approach. In a way, Louise was completely unmistakable. She was the shortest of all the students her age, with a temper that was inversely proportional to her size. If she hadn't been either scowling angrily or stoically cold to everyone around her, perhaps some of the boys might have found her long strawberry blonde hair and reddish-brown eyes pretty. Instead, they mocked her behind her back for her lack of magical aptitude and short fuse, only to flee when she drew her wand in anger.
When the only spell you could cast resulted in fiery explosions of varying sizes, people tended to avoid getting in your way. It didn't stop them from whispering, though. Louise had thought of simply blowing up a group of gossiping hens – more than once, in fact – but realized that it would only make matters worse. In the end, she accepted it with gritted teeth, even though she hated it.
So it was now that Louise had to endure the looks of her classmates as she passed them, their disdainful scowls and disapproving frowns burning into the back of her head. She addressed the nurse following her – anything to distract herself, even if it meant conversing with a commoner!
"So, you said he was conscious?"
The servant started, surprised to be spoken to. Nobles rarely did deign to speak to those catering to their whims, except for giving orders. "Er, yes, mylady, he woke only twenty minutes ago! A bit weak, but otherwise fine."
"And how is he? A brute? Stupid? Is his mind addled?"
"I wouldn't know, mylady," the nurse said quietly, a smile that Louise couldn't see on her face. "I wouldn't call him stupid or addled, but that's not for me to judge. Rather charming, to be honest."
Commoners, Louise thought disdainfully. Show them a bit of kindness and they lick out of your hand like dogs. Disgraceful. "In any case," she continued out loud as they reached the infirmary's door, "thank you for informing me."
"Be careful, mylady," the nurse warned. "He's still weak, like I said. Don't burden him if you can avoid it."
Louise turned a cool eye on her, looking her up and down. "What is your name, girl?"
"Siesta, mylady."
"Any family name?"
"No, mylady. Siesta of Tarbes, that's all there is to it."
Figures. Commoners rarely have family names, do they? Only the name of the village where they were born.
Louise stepped uncomfortably close to Siesta, glaring right up into her face. To any outsider, the sight of a smaller girl invading a taller one's personal space to intimidate her would have been laughable, but any onlooker hailing from Halkeginia wouldn't have dared to interfere. Even if Louise's magical ability was mediocre and uncontrollable, Siesta's was nil in comparison – which meant that Louise had the final word in any argument they might have.
"Listen to me well, Siesta of Tarbes," Louise said, her voice low and dangerous. "I've already said this before, but I don't think you quite heard me then. If I want to hear your counsel, I will ask it of you. When I want you to remain silent, you will remain silent. And if want you out of my sight, you will leave without question. Do I make myself clear?"
The nurse quailed under Louise's ice-cold glare. "Y-yes, mylady. As you say."
Louise stepped back, satisfied. "Good. You show more sense than many others." She quickly adjusted her uniform and cloak. "Now let's take a look this barbarian that I seem to have summoned from Founder-knows-where."
Siesta wordlessly opened the infirmary's door, holding it open for the smaller noble. Louise entered, her head held tall. She caught snippets of a conversation and spotted a group of people seated around a bed on the far end of the room. Her heart sank when she spotted Professor Colbert. Now she would have no choice but to talk to him.
The Matron, Sister Catherine, was there as well, the plump woman smiling amiably as always, though Louise thought that there was a nervous edge underneath it as she approached. Then her eyes fell on the man leaning against the headboard of the bed.
At first glance, he seemed like nobody special. He looked gaunt and frail; the nurse hadn't been joking when she'd mentioned he was weak. What surprised Louise was how old he looked. He looked far older than her own father, who was in his fifties himself – his hair was as white as the sheets of the bed he lay in, only the occasional streak of grey hinting at any colour. Overall, Louise thought, a weak old man.
And then she met his eyes.
'The eyes are the windows to the soul.' Louise couldn't for the life of her remember where she'd read that phrase before, whether it was a theological treatise, an essay on the ways of men or a phrase she'd picked up from a romantic novel belonging to her older sister. She'd always ignored it, believing it be overblown prose that giggling schoolgirls used to dreamily describe their knight in shining armour. Useless nonsense, she'd thought.
But when she saw this old man's eyes, she saw that they were black. So black, in fact, that she couldn't be exactly sure where the pupil began and the iris ended. They seemed like black stones set in white as they considered her, and Louise somehow knew that these eyes had seen things that she would never have even dreamed of. And suddenly she was afraid.
Before she knew it, she was standing right next to the bed, her eyes still locked with the old man's. No one said a word.
He was the one who looked away first, throwing an intrigued look at Professor Colbert. "My new Master, you say?" His Halkeginian was accented, a foreign touch that Louise didn't recognize. It sounded exotic, as if had come from the south, yet different than any Romalian she'd ever met.
Colbert nodded in answer to his question, amusement twinkling in his eye, and the bedridden elder turned to smile at Louise.
"In my home, the mothers tell stories of evil witches with hunched backs and warts on their noses that steal children away, so that can scare them into behaving. I'll admit that a pretty young lady like you is exceeding my expectations by far."
Louise flushed bright red. Was he complimenting her looks? It had to be mockery. "Hold your tongue, familiar," she hissed angrily.
He raised an eyebrow, his demeanour calm at her venom. "My apologies, signorina. I meant no disrespect." He then turned back to Professor Colbert. "Now, is anyone going to explain this whole summoning and 'familiar' business to me? I admit that I am still confused as to the details of what exactly happened..."
"What do you mean, you're confused?" Louise asked sharply. "Haven't you ever heard of the Springtime Summoning Ritual before?"
The man turned those black eyes back to her, completely unfazed. "No. Should I have?"
Louise opened her mouth to say something (probably an insult to this barbarian's intelligence) when Colbert held up a hand, commanding immediate silence. "Mademoiselle, don't be rash now," he cautioned. "Monsieur Auditore is from a far-off land where magic is unknown, so he has absolutely no experience with any of our traditions and customs. Be kind to him."
"What is this nonsense?" Louise flared, her anger returning. "What do you mean by that, a 'land where magic is unknown'?"
"It means," the old man said calmly, "that I have never heard of magic before the day you apparently... summoned me, was that the word you used, professore?"
Louise stared at him, honestly at a loss for words as he considered with utter calm. He's never heard of magic before? But then...
"Does that mean..." she said, feeling her throat dry, "Does that mean that you are a commoner?"
"A commoner?" he parroted, curious. "What do you mean by that, exactly?"
"Someone who can't use magic."
Louise dreaded the answer, and she wasn't disappointed. He smiled amiably. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry, signorina, but I'm afraid that magic performed by the likes of your countrymen seems quite impossible for me. My apologies."
He doesn't seem very apologetic, Louise thought darkly as she slumped down into a chair. She never thought of thanking Siesta for bringing it to her, her hands balling into angry fists as she stared at them, clenched in her lap. They relaxed a moment later as Louise chuckled, a dark sound that troubled the ear. "What irony... A zero summoning a zero. Why am I surprised? This is just Fate's cruel way of mocking me, again and again."
"I'm afraid I don't understand, signorina."
Louise looked up. Professor Colbert looked wary and concerned, Sister Catherine looked pitying (damn her!), but the old man reclining in his bed seemed ambivalent, his demeanour even as he waited for an explanation.
She gritted her teeth and spoke the hated words. "In our society, monsieur, nobility and pedigree are based upon the ability to use magic. Our monarchs are all distinguished and powerful mages, while the rest of our nobility all have varying degrees of power, magecraft being the sole unifying banner of our country of Tristain. Commoners are those unable to use magic – because of this reason, they are subservient to the crown and its bannermen."
Louise heard Siesta shift uncomfortably behind her, but she ignored it. She flashed the old man a sardonic smile. "What you see before you, monsieur, is the disgrace of Tristain's nobility," she continued, her voice bitter. "My schoolmates call me 'Louise the Zero'. An unflattering moniker, certainly, but one that isn't too far from the truth. You see, I have never been able to control my magic. All my spells have failed, some in more spectacular fashion than others, but they still failed."
"And that's why..."
"Louise the Zero," she spat out venomously. "Zero talent, zero success, zero ability, zero everything. A commoner born among nobles."
"That's quite enough, mademoiselle," Professor Colbert said sharply.
"Why, Professor?" Louise snapped, her frayed temper finally unravelling. "Are you going to deny the truth of what I said?"
She felt humiliated. Not only in front of Professor Colbert, though that was bad enough. She felt humiliated because she was talking to her familiar, someone who was supposed to accompany her for the rest of her life, obeying her orders and protecting her. And she laid herself bare to him, even though she hadn't finalized the contract yet. She had to convince him to accept the contract, when he should have obeyed her without question. And she was helpless in front of him.
Louise hated feeling helpless. She felt powerless, unable to do anything. A burden.
Weak, her mother's voice whispered in her ear, pathetic.
"Well, your reputation is one thing," the man spoke up, dragging Louise away from bad memories. He looked at them all, calm and expectant. "But what does this have to do with me, specifically?"
"Maybe I can explain that," Professor Colbert said hastily, throwing a worried glance at Louise. She just nodded, composing herself.
"You see," the Professor began, before halting, deep in thought. "Well, to be honest, I'll spare you all the history and tradition surrounding the Springtime Summoning Ritual. Most of it is legend or unnecessarily detailed, though if you are interested–"
"Please, professore, get to the point."
"Ah, yes, of course. At a certain stage in a mage's growth, we expect them to summon a certain creature, one that we refer to as a 'familiar'. There are other terms, but those are rather technical and irrelevant right now." He made a wide sweeping gesture as he explained. "Usually, these take the forms of various beasts: badgers, foxes, wolves, lizards, bears, dragons, birds – the possibilities are endless. However, it would seem that Mademoiselle de la Vallière has managed to surprise us yet again."
Louise glared at the Professor, but he ignored her, so caught up was he in his explanation. When Professor Colbert explained something, the world could end and he wouldn't notice. He tended to blather on as well.
The old man seemed quite interested, however. "In what way has she surprised you, then?"
"She managed to summon a human familiar – something I had never thought possible! I would have loved to get my hands on the remains of her summoning circle," the teacher said mournfully, "but it was trampled under the feet of our clumsy students when we rushed you to the infirmary."
The old man's eyes danced with amusement. "My apologies, then. I still seem to cause my hosts unnecessary trouble even when I'm not conscious. But wait..." His eyes snapped to Louise, becoming deadly serious. "Does that mean that you brought me here?"
"Yes," she snapped defiantly. "What of it?"
"Oh, nothing at all. Do continue, professore."
"Gladly, gladly... Familiars are a mage's constant companion, if you will. They keep their masters company, serve them by fetching reagents for experiments, and protect them from harm or fight alongside them in battle should their lord or lady ever go to war. In return, the Master gives them roof and shelter, protecting them from harm the familiar cannot defend against, and caring for them in other ways. Many familiars are capable of magic, though that is the exception rather than the rule."
"Hold on a moment," the man said slowly, his tone suddenly far colder and dangerous than before. "Are you telling me that a familiar is a mage's pet?"
Colbert blinked, thinking about it, not recognizing the cold anger in the man's eyes. "Why, yes, that's a rather unorthodox way of putting it, but in a sense, familiar are their Master's pets."
The man turned to look at Louise, sounding furious. "You summoned me here so that I could serve as your pet?"
Louise just stared back, defiant, even though fear was gripping her insides.
"Answer me, girl."
"Yes! Yes I did!" Louise yelled, standing up abruptly, her eyes blazing furiously with anger fuelled by fear. "I participated in the summoning ritual like everybody, fool that I was, and guess who appeared? You! Not an animal, not a beast, only human little you! Now, I don't know what I've done to deserve having an aged cripple as my ideal companion for life–"
She heard sharp intakes of breath around her, but she ploughed on relentlessly anyway, propriety and good manners be damned. "–but you are my last chance to prove myself worthy to be a mage of Tristain before I am exiled or disgraced from the nobility! And God and His saints help me, if I have to accept a commoner as a Familiar to avoid that fate, then I will!"
"Mademoiselle!" Sister Catherine barked out, making to stand up, but the bedridden man held up one hand, stopping her. He just looked at Louise, and again she felt terrified as he spoke.
"You seem to be under the impression that I will willingly become your... familiar," the man said icily, his eyes hard and stern as he disdainfully spoke the term. "I have lived for sixty-seven years upon this gracious earth, and of those I spent five decades fighting the ones who would wish me and my kindred harm." He drew himself up in bed, proud and cold. "Yet all those years I was beholden to no one. I followed my own path. If you think you can make me your slave, then think again, child. My name is Ezio Auditore da Firenze. Remember it. I bow to no lord, mortal or otherwise. And I will not change my mind just because a little girl with a temper comes along."
Louise stared at him, utterly lost for words. That commanding presence, that pride – no commoner spoke to a noble this way. That was something that she understood from deep down, something that had been ingrained in her ever since she could walk. Commoners bowed before nobles. And he'd just refused to bow, cold and proud, in a way that was not unlike her own mother, powerful and regal as she was.
And she realized with horror that she couldn't force him to accept her. If she did, he would kill her. That was clear as day, even as he lay there, weak, old and unarmed. His eyes said it all.
She sat back in her chair, avoiding his eyes.
Ezio – that was his name, wasn't it? – turned to Professor Colbert, whose eyes glanced between them rapidly, unsure what to do or say. "Professore?"
The teacher started badly. "Yes?"
"When I came here, did I have anything with me? Weapons, armour, anything else worth of mention?"
"Er, yes, yes there was! Your travelling robes, quite a lot of weapons, and a saddle with its saddlebags. No horse, though. That one rather confused me–"
"Good." Ezio threw back his covers, making to move out of bed and get up, wincing. "I'm afraid that I cannot impose on your hospitality any longer." He smiled at Sister Catherine and Siesta. "Or, to be completely honest, I do not wish to give you any more trouble. I'll gather my things and leave as soon as I can."
"But Monsieur Auditore!" Siesta burst out, horrified. "You're not ready to travel yet! You're still weak!"
Ezio started laughing, a rasping sound that sounded like sandpaper scratching on wood. "Signorina, I've lived for nearly seventy years. I've been expecting death for a very long time. If anything, I intend to use the little time I have left to return to my home and family. I don't want to die in a foreign land among strangers, even if it would be more comfortable for me." He turned to Professor Colbert with a questioning look. "Unless, of course, there is a way to send me back where I came from."
The teacher shook his head mutely, and Ezio laughed. "I didn't think so. Life is never that easy, is it, professore? Well, my decision is made then." He bowed to them, the movement elegant despite his weakness and painful injury. "I'll take my leave, signora e signorine. I was a pleasure to meet you, and again, I give you my thanks for treating me and nursing me back to health." He turned expectantly to the silent teacher. "Lead the way, professore Colbert."
"Of course," the professor said quietly, standing up from his chair, throwing a glance at the defeated Louise sitting in her chair, her head hung low. She still hadn't said anything. Colbert shook his head and sighed.
As they began to move towards the door, Louise quietly spoke up. "Do you even know which way your home is?"
Ezio stilled, not turning around. "I don't," he admitted freely. "But this is not the first time I've had to travel to far-off lands. I'll find a way."
"Where are you from, exactly?" Siesta asked, curious.
"The Republic of Firenze. It's a large city in the Toscana region of Italia."
"Firenze? Toscana? Italia?" Sister Catherine frowned as she racked her encyclopaedic memory. "Strange, I've never heard any of these names before. How odd." Ezio whirled around, startled, and she rushed to explain. "I travelled widely in my youth for my education as a healer, so I'm surprised to have never heard of your home." She pursed her lips. "Though it would make sense if you hail from a place that doesn't know magic. I never travelled the barbarian lands."
"Signora, please don't refer to me that way," Ezio said firmly but politely. "I am many things, but a barbarian is not one of them."
"Ah, of course. My apologies."
"Please, Ezio," Louise begged with a small voice, hating how hesitant and scared she sounded. "Stay."
She hated it when she was weak, but she was at her wit's end now. She couldn't force him to stay, that much was obvious. She had believed that he would give in when confronted by magic and by her nobility, commoner that he was. He'd simply ignored it. She couldn't use magic on him – with her lack of control, she might just hurt him or drive him away. So she had to beg for him to stay with her.
She hated it when she had to beg. She hated being weak. She had tried to be strong all her life, had worked tirelessly to become strong, and now it all depended on her begging for someone else's help and acceptance. It was utterly humiliating, all her work gone in a flash.
Louise wiped her eyes with the back of her knuckles, still refusing to look up. She wouldn't let them see her cry. She wouldn't.
"Child," a voice ordered in a tired tone, "look at me."
Louise did and realized for the first time how tall Ezio was. He was gaunt, emaciated from days of being ill and comatose, not to mention old agem but he was still far taller than her, looming over her as she sat slumped in her chair, carrying himself with an air of confidence that he was either born to or earned by himself. He may have been a commoner in Tristain, but he carried himself with more dignity and strength than most nobles.
Ezio Auditore da Firenze – that was his name, right? Doesn't sound like a commoner's name...
Ezio's black eyes bored into Louise's reddish-brown ones. "Child, what if I accepted to become your... familiar?" He held up a hand to stall any question she might have asked. "I will become your familiar, if you accept some of my conditions. The contract goes both ways, doesn't it, professore?" He glanced at Colbert.
The teacher nodded, looking thoughtful. "Absolutely correct, Monsieur Auditore. It's a contract between mage and familiar, so there are conditions that you can demand, if you wish to do so."
Louise felt a pang of dread again. A geas? A magically binding contract? Those were dangerous. If you weren't careful, they could force you to do horrible, unspeakable things, or take away your ability to use magic if you went against the contract's stipulations.
But she really didn't have a choice. Louise sat up, held up her chin and looked Ezio straight in the eye. "Name your terms," she said boldly.
The old man gave her an amused smile before quickly becoming serious. "Condition number one." He held up one wizened finger. "You will not treat me as a slave or a pet. In my long life, I have bowed down to no one of my own free will. If I decide to become your familiar, it will be an equal partnership, one where we both work together and neither is treated as the lesser of the two. Is that clear?"
"I can accept that." She quirked a sardonic smile. "I don't think I could force you to do anything you didn't want to do anyway, even if I had forced the familiar contract on you without your consent."
Ezio chuckled. "Very likely. I'm stubborn that way." Another finger rose. "Condition number two. You will allow me as much freedom as you can and you will help me adapt to this strange new country we're in. If I have a question about your people or your land, you will try to answer to the best of your ability."
Louise frowned quizzically. "Why is that so important?"
"Professore Colbert nearly made my heart stop when he used magic for the first time," Ezio said drily as he nodded at the aged teacher, who had the decency to look sheepish. "An impressive demonstration, no doubt, but a tad frightening nevertheless. I don't want to be taken by surprise again, so I'd like you to teach me."
"Deal," Louise said immediately, feeling positively giddy with elation and trying to hide it. "I would have probably helped you anyway, so that's fine."
"How generous of you," he said drily. "Condition number three, my last one." He looked deadly serious now, his face grave. "If I die, I want you to find a way to return my body and effects to my home and family."
Louise's happy train of thought was derailed quite quickly. "What?"
Ezio smiled thinly. "Consider it a dying man's last request."
"A dying man's last request?" Louise demanded, furiously standing up as she got right into his face. "What is that supposed to mean, exactly!"
Ezio actually looked surprised, but didn't back down. "I thought I was quite clear before, signorina. I am dying." He smirked humourlessly. "To be completely honest, I thought that I would die... two days ago, was it? When I turned up like a wounded cane on your doorstep."
"You're dying?" Louise repeated, horrified.
"I'm sixty-seven," Ezio snorted, darkly amused. "It would be a miracle if I wasn't!"
Louise must still have looked shocked, because he looked her straight in the eye, his voice dropping to a quiet whisper. "I want to be buried with my family, child. You are young, you don't think of such things when you have all your life ahead of you, but I assure you, thinking of dying without my loved ones near me was one of the worst things that have ever happened to me. But I am not foolish enough to assume that Death will refuse to claim me." He chuckled. "All men must die, and so will I, sooner or later. I've lived far too long for it to be later rather than sooner, unfortunately, so I have to make plans, don't I?" He tapped her forehead lightly with his three raised fingers. "Plans that include you."
"Rather morbid of you, isn't it?" Louise retorted, trying to smile and probably failing miserably. "Planning your own funeral arrangements."
Ezio grinned back. "I prefer being morbid and prepared to being terrified and clueless."
"Well, you two will get along fine then," she heard Professor Colbert mutter. "I've rarely met a more pessimistic student than our Mademoiselle de la Vallière here."
"Touché." Louise sighed and nodded. "I'll do it. I promise that I'll try to send your body home once you pass on."
Ezio patted her on the head, a paternal gesture that surprised Louise immensely. "Good. I'll trust you."
And Louise found to her own surprise and shock that it did feel good to be trusted. No one had ever trusted her with anything before, considered she was treated like a sheltered, frail cripple.
This new feeling felt... nice. Yes. It definitely did. Even if it concerned someone's death.
"So, how do we finalize this familiar contract, then?" Ezio asked, tearing her from her thoughts.
"What? Oh yes, of course!" Louise drew her wand, but stopped as she considered the end to the ritual. "Er... The procedure is rather... complex."
"I have time," Ezio said politely.
"It's not an issue of time!" Louise said frantically, flushing to the very roots of her strawberry blonde hair, her face turning a dark crimson of embarrassment as she waved her wand about. "Well... U-usually the ceremony is performed on an animal or a beast, so it doesn't really matter, but with you, it gets... difficult!"
The foreigner raised a confused eyebrow as Sister Catherine and Professor Colbert watched with undisguised amusement. "What's the problem, then?"
"I have to kiss you!" Louise yelled out loud, before clamping her hands over her mouth, embarrassed beyond belief.
"That's it?" He looked puzzled. "You're making such a fuss about a simple kiss?"
"It's my first one!" Louise contested hotly before ordering herself to shut up, mortified at the things she was blabbing out in front of her teachers. And a common nurse, no less! They just seemed amused, though the Siesta girl was very much trying to hide her giggles.
Ezio rolled his eyes. "How old are you, signorina?"
"Seventeen," she snapped back, her usual anger returning.
"Right, seventeen. Now, you will realize that there are quite a few more important things that matter in life than a kiss. A kiss?" He waved it off. "A trifle, a passing consequence! People kiss each other every day, sometimes someone else every day if they're so inclined, and they remain as virtuous or wicked as they were before it! A kiss is nothing of importance, I tell you!"
"You seem quite knowledgeable on the subject, monsieur," Sister Catherine said slyly as Colbert tried hard not to burst out in guffaws at Louise's expression, only years of ingrained dignity masking it as odd twitches around the corners of his mouth.
Ezio winked at her. "You'd be surprised at the things I was up to when I was seventeen, signora. Oh, the sweet memories..."
"Enough of this already!" Louise stamped her foot childishly. She was sure that her face was as red as the signal fires of La Rochelle now, but it couldn't be helped. "Let's... Argh, let's just get this over with!"
She started waving her wand, chanting rapidly in the ancient tongue. Anything to get out of this embarrassing situation. Anything! "Pentagon of the five elements, answer my call! Earth, fire, wind, water, void! Take this creature and make it my familiar!"
She ignored the flaming runes that had appeared out of thin air to hover around the two of them, simply grabbing her surprised familiar by the lapels of the shirt Sister Catherine had dressed him in, yanking him down to her height and kissing him briefly. She let go immediately afterwards, as if she had been burned.
Ezio looked at her, his black eyes twinkling with merriment. "See? I told you a kiss was unimportant, after all."
"Oh, be quiet!" she snapped back, now even angrier with herself than before, something she didn't even think possible. "That's not important right now!" That only seemed to amuse the old man, who chuckled. "The runes should have appeared by now..."
"What runes?" Ezio asked, curious, before suddenly wincing as he snatched his left hand in his right in sudden pain. He stared aghast as an invisible knife seemed to cut strange markings into the back of his right hand, blood leaking freely as something bit deeply into his skin. "What is this madness?" he asked, looking panicked.
"The Familiar's Mark," Colbert explained patiently, taking Ezio's hand in his own and examining the lines on its back, wiping away grimy blood. The lines were now glowing faintly, though the colour was receding. "All magically bound creatures have them. They are proof for a successful contract between mage and summons, recorded in the annals of our Academy as evidence of a young mage coming of age. Fascinating... I've never seen this particular set of runes before, but they are genuine..."
He let Ezio's hand drop and turned to Louise, smiling widely. "Congratulations, Mademoiselle de la Vallière! You have successfully summoned and contracted a familiar!"
"Félicitations, mademoiselle!" Sister Catherine chimed in, beaming at her. "You made it! Jean was always so confident in you!"
Even Siesta couldn't help but add her two centimes as she caught the celebratory mood, Louise standing there and smiling, in happy embarrassment for once. "Good for you, mylady!"
"That's nice," Ezio mumbled, shivering like a leaf as he stood there, sweat breaking out on his forehead. "Good for you, child... Don't mind me, I just feel rather strange..."
And then his eyes rolled into the back of his head before he slumped to the ground, Colbert managing to catch him before he cracked his head open on the hard stone floor.
Louise wailed in despair as Ezio was quickly bundled back into his bed. "What in Founder's name did I do wrong now?"
...
Louise was eventually escorted out of the infirmary by a fidgeting Siesta.
Well, 'escorted' was perhaps the wrong word. Sister Catherine took Ezio's temperature, saw the way he was thrashing about even as he was unconscious and immediately ordered a panicking Louise to leave. The young noble girl who had sprung to her familiar's side in blind fear and worry had flatly refused. A mistake she soon regretted.
The plump Sister had drawn herself up to her full height (which wasn't admittedly very high, but still intimidating to someone like Louise) and sent a withering glare at the youngest daughter of the Duc de la Vallière. "This, child, is my infirmary. In here, I decide who gets healed and who will have to wait for their treatment; who lives and who dies. In here, even God himself will follow my orders after I've given him some bed rest and pills." She had raised her wand threateningly. "Now leave, or I'll make sure that you'll stay a bit longer than you really want to."
Louise, her ears still ringing from the healer's furious admonition, was then politely shown to the door by the nurse, Siesta smiling apologetically and telling her to come back tomorrow. The last thing she saw of her familiar before the heavy oaken door was slammed shut in her face was Ezio thrashing in fitful sleep, groaning pitifully, white steam rising from his lobster-red skin as Sister Catherine and Professor Colbert examined him, obviously not having a clue what was going on.
Needless to say that Louise Francoise de la Vallière was extremely troubled for the rest of the day, a fact that the other students easily picked up on when they spotted her in the dinner hall, sitting alone and utterly lost in thought.
When she tried to go to sleep that night, she found that she couldn't. It wasn't for lack of comfort, definitely not – her bedding was made of silk and filled with down feathers, luxuries that most commoners could only dream of, considering their cost – but still she laid awake, worried about her familiar and wondering whether he would be alright.
He said he was old and dying, after all...
She forced her eyes closed, trying to think of happier things. It's alright. He'll be alright. He's my familiar now. He said he would become my familiar. A last happy thought made her drift off to sleep. I'm a mage. A real mage. I'm not a failure...
She thought she woke up once, but dismissed it as a dream. The moon was shining through the window and turned her bed cover into blinding white. Louise watched it, fascinated. It really was beautiful.
A quiet sound by her bedside made her look to the door, and she stilled. There stood a cowled figure in white, a cape slung over one shoulder. Eyes glinted under the cowl, a young man's face. He seemed to be watching her.
Surprisingly, Louise found that she was neither scared nor surprised at his sudden appearance. This was a dream, after all. Stranger things happened in dreams, and she only had to wake up if this one got too scary or bizarre.
The young man bowed, an elegant movement that would have fit any noble at the royal court. "Your wish, mistress?" he asked, his tone both respectful yet mocking at the same time, his accent strange and exotic.
Louise said the first thing that came to her mind. "Take the laundry basket and get it to the scullery. My clothes need to be washed."
A pause that might have been surprise, followed by a dry chuckle. "As my mistress commands."
A moment later, Louise woke up and felt that she was alone again, her visitor having mysteriously disappeared. Only the moon was there, watching her serenely.
Of course no one's here. It was just a dream. She frowned. A really vivid dream, but still.
As she snuggled back under the covers, she thought that her dreams were getting rather silly. She would have to drink less wine at the dinner table from now on.
...
The original light novels of Familiar of Zero (Zero no Tsukaima) were written by Noboru Yamaguchi, originally published by Media Factory in 2004, and are still ongoing after twenty volumes and a four-season anime adaptation by J.C. Staff that premiered in July 2006.
The original video game Assassin's Creed was originally released in 2007 by Ubisoft, followed by its sequels Assassin's Creed II (2009), Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood (2010), and Assassin's Creed: Revelations (2011). At the time of this writing (May 2012), Assassin's Creed III is announced to be released in October 2012.
Again, please support the official release, and be kind enough to leave a review.