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.
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Good day or good evening to you, ladies and gentlemen, and a warm welcome to the third chapter of On The Wings Of An Eagle, following one of our favourite Assassins in the strange magical world of Halkeginia. Your reviews have been some of the greatest encouragement I have ever received about my writing in a very long time, and I want to thank you for that. I also want to thank those who have read my story without leaving a review - the sheer numbers of visitors to my first story on this website were enough to make my heart swell with pride and happiness. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
The third chapter of this story is mostly simple exposition and development of the characters from the Familiar of Zero novels. I hope you don't mind the lack of action, but Ezio is still trying to get his bearings in an unfamiliar world. I promise that the plot will be developed in upcoming chapters.
Speaking of upcoming chapters, I have a small announcement to make. You have perhaps noticed that I published three rather long chapters in three short days. As much as I would like to claim that I am indeed able to write and edit my chapters at such a ludicrous speed, I'm afraid that that is not the case - each chapter takes up great amounts of my very limited free time. I will soon visit extended family for a few days, being disconnected from my familiar internet in the process, and I also have to prepare for examinations in my university classes in the near future.
In plain terms, this means that I will be unable to update at my previous speed, for which I sincerely apologize. I am still writing when I get the chance, and I have a few future chapters already written, but these need a lot of editing and correction to be of a similar quality as the ones before, and my schedule is filled with work and studying for the next upcoming month or so. Real life unfortunately takes precedence over anything I do for fun.
You can expect the next chapter of this story in about a week's time. I'm terribly sorry, but that is the earliest I can honestly get the time in to write and edit - I like to stay ahead of my publishing by a few chapters or so to avoid inconsistencies, bad spelling and grammar, and also not to write myself into a corner. If you think this story is worth some more of your time and have an account on this website, I suggest using the ever-helpful 'Story Alert' function to tell you when I update. To all others without an account, I suggest using bookmarks in your internet browser and checking again in a week's time. Again, my apologies, but I feel this is necessary to ensure the quality of this story. If you think this story is worth the effort, recommend it to your friends and to your associates in the forums you frequent. It would certainly make me feel very happy and grateful for your support.
Now that we have that out of the way - 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.
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On The Wings Of An Eagle
Chapter III - Exploring The Roost
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Ezio woke up once more in a comfortable bed, having felt atrocious pain for the last few hours in every fibre of his being. He stared bemusedly at the high ceiling of the infirmary. Moonlight shone through the windows of stained glass, painting the shadowed room in many different colours.
The moment I start to recognize individual bricks in the wall of a sickbay is the moment that I need to leave it.
"You're awake." Sister Catherine approached in a businesslike fashion. She touched his forehead briefly. "Good. You seem to have recovered from whatever strange affliction the familiar contract caused in you. Now get up." She frowned at him. "I stayed up all night worried about you, Monsieur Auditore, not knowing what had happened to you. I hope you appreciate it. Now, how are you feeling?"
Ezio moved stiff muscles as he got up and realized he felt... surprisingly good. Better than he had in a very long time, actually. Aches and pains that had been constant companions for decades until he no longer cared about their existence had left him. He felt... better, in a simple sense of the word. As if the kinks in his sinews and muscles had been ironed out, leaving nothing but pure strength flowing through them.
"I feel... fine." He smiled at Sister Catherine as he leapt fluidly to his feet, his breath not even laboured, marvelling at the ease of his movements. "I haven't felt this good in years!"
Sister Catherine smiled at him. "Excellent; that means I have a good excuse to throw you out of here, Monsieur Auditore."
"Do I have to leave, Sister?" Ezio whined playfully. "I rather like it here. People fuss about me, there's food, and the bed is comfortable! What more could a man want?"
"Well, I don't know what a man wants, considering that I've never been one," she retorted, "but I know what I want, and that is a good night's sleep without worrying about you dying the moment I leave your bedside!" She shooed him off. "Now go wash up and get dressed; the basin and mirror are over there. Jean left you some clothes next to it. Allez, allez, get going! My own bed is calling to me!"
Ezio chuckled as Sister Catherine bustled out of the door. Right. Let's get out of the nice Sister's hair. I owe her that much, at least. He stretched his arms happily. I wonder what magic she used to heal all the aches that used to plague me. I wonder...
He got his answer as soon as he reached the mirror, staring at his own reflection.
Ezio had gotten used to the many creases of worry that marred his forehead, the many wrinkles around his eyes and the corners of his mouth, years and years of living a dangerous life adding to the strain he was put under. He'd gotten used to the fact that the older he got, the more he lost what Federico had jokingly called 'his only asset'. On one hand, it was a mark of pride to have lived to an old age of sixty-seven – many people living peaceful lives as farmers or artisans never reached his age, and he had fought and bled for five decades. Truly, he'd been blessed with good luck to grow old when many others didn't.
But Ezio had always been proud of his good looks. He knew that such a sentiment was prideful and vain, and yet it irked him to see his looks stripped away, bit by bit. For a long time, Ezio had no time to care – he had been hunting Templars, the Borgia, and Byzantines all his life, busy with the duties as the Grand Mentor of the Assassins, recruiting, training, killing and teaching.
And one day, Ezio had looked in the mirror and wondered how he had grown so old in what felt like such a short time.
But the face that looked back at him now was the exact same one that had received the wound from Vieri di Pazzi at the age of seventeen – young, smooth and brash, all the lines and the haggard look of old age gone, the healthy colour of a young man to his skin instead of the pallor of a laboured invalid.
And speaking of the scar... Where was it?
Ezio gingerly touched his upper lip, feeling skin as level as that of a newborn child's. The scar was gone, as if it had never existed. He ripped off his hospital shirt and examined the rest of his body, astonished. During his decades of fighting, he had accumulated an impressive collection of cuts, bruises and deeper wounds, some more severe than others, and many of them had left ugly scars all over his body. They were gone as well, all of them – even the burn mark around his ring finger that marked him as a brother of the Assassins had mysteriously vanished.
Ezio felt uneasy. Each scar had been a little memento from a fight, a bloody souvenir that reminded him of the mistakes he'd made in the past, encouraging him to be more careful the next time. To have them all disappear unsettled him. Only the strange runes carved onto the back of his left hand marred his skin.
"Monsieur Auditore!" a voice called from outside the door. "Are you done? I don't have all night!"
The chastised Assassin jumped, remembering who was waiting for him. "Mi dispiace, signora! I'll be right there!"
He quickly washed with the water from the basin and critically examined the clothes that had been laid out for him. Sturdy trousers, heavy boots, a clean white shirt and a sleeveless leather vest. He frowned. What happened to my clothes?
A few moments later, he closed the door behind himself quietly, adjusting the brown leather vest. "I'm rather sure that I didn't wear these clothes when I arrived here," he said carefully to the waiting healer.
Sister Catherine smiled crookedly at him. "You didn't. Your clothes were torn and soaked with blood; it would have been unhygienic for you to wear them again."
"What did you do with them, then?"
"We burned them. I'm sorry." She looked carefully at him. "Jean has the rest of your belongings, though. Your armour, weapons, and the things we found in your saddlebag next to the summoning circle that called you here. I hope you don't mind that I entrusted them to him." She frowned disapprovingly. "I refuse to allow weapons inside my infirmary. This place is meant to heal wounds, not cause them."
"I understand. Professore Colbert has my things, you say?"
"Yes. He kept them locked up in his laboratory."
Ezio let out a sigh of relief. "That's good. Many of those things are very valuable to me, and some of them are quite dangerous. I'm glad they weren't lost when I came here." He bowed. "Mille grazie, signora. For everything."
"Ce n'est rien." The Sister examined him carefully. "You are not displeased with your... sudden change in appearance?"
Ezio looked back evenly. "Was that your doing, signora? Your magic?"
She chuckled. "I only wish that I could reverse the aging of man, as it seems to have happened to you, but unfortunately I cannot claim that talent for myself." She considered him. "Magic is a fickle thing, Monsieur Auditore. Sometimes it is a science requiring delicate precision and exact calculations, and at other times it is like a strange wild beast that no one can control."
Ezio chuckled. "A strange paradox."
She laughed, a cackling sound that betrayed a lot of good humour. "One that has fascinated us very much over the centuries, I can assure you. Your rejuvenation was one of the latter cases – in all my years of studying healing magic, I have never seen anything quite like it."
She raised a hand before he could ask anything else. "You should talk to Jean. The man is a tad... capricious, but his knowledge of the magical arts is undisputable. He knows more about magic now than I ever will in my lifetime – he is a teacher at the Academy here, after all. You'll find his workshop in the western wing of the building on the ground floor." She frowned in amused mockery. "And now I hope that you will allow me some sleep, Monsieur. I'm rather tired of entertaining you in my infirmary."
Ezio bowed again, this time even deeper. "Again, thank you for all your kindness, signora. I will not forget it." He straightened up, smiling. "May I visit again some time?"
"I pray that I won't see you in here for a while, Monsieur Auditore," the plump Sister shot back as she marched through the door of her infirmary. "You were quite a tiresome patient, and you weren't even conscious for most of it! I tremble to think how bothersome you are when awake!"
Ezio laughed. "You wound me with your harsh words, signora, you truly do. Good night to you."
"Bonne nuit, Monsieur Auditore. May the Founder and His saints guide you."
And then she closed the door behind her, leaving him alone and thinking in the dark corridor.
...
Ezio walked briskly through the dark passages of the Academy, following his instincts as he searched for Professor Colbert's laboratory. If he concentrated hard enough, he could spot a glowing outline of the man, staff in hand, as he marched ahead, occasionally stopping to speak to some people, inexorably moving on towards the western wing of the large and confusing building.
Ezio frowned in annoyance as he moved. When he tried to explain to his closest friends how his famed 'senses' worked, he found that he couldn't. They were just too strange. Whenever Ezio was lost in a dead end, they would show him the way out of it. Whenever he sought an entrance to a hidden alcove, he would find a lever or a similar mechanism, glowing brightly in the eye of his mind. And when he concentrated hard enough on a location or on a person he was looking for, he would invariably find them, glowing golden in his surroundings, a tingling feeling telling him where to go. His senses were extraordinarily sharp; he could hear conversations held at the other end of a crowded street, spot a specific person in a crowd from the top of a cathedral's bell tower, and his nose was as sharp as that of a trained hunting dog's. People had trouble lying to him, as he could see who meant him harm with a single glance – red for foe and blue for friend, a shapeless grey for everyone else. He could even see into the past if he concentrated hard enough, images and shapes forming in his mind as he sought out patterns and events that interested him.
When he had told all of this once to Leonardo, his friend's eyes had lightened up with the manic curiosity that defined the eccentric inventor. "Grandioso, Ezio! It sounds almost like magic!"
But even Leonardo had been unable to explain it, even when he went over the collected Codex pages several times in a vain attempt to understand Ezio's strange senses, only finding vague references to an 'Eagle', scribbled by Altair in the margin of several parchments. It was just one of many mysteries that surrounded the fortress of Masyaf and Those Who Came Before, and one that Ezio had been unable to solve when he visited the Orient.
And now Ezio was mulling over the words of one of his oldest friends, wondering whether his joke had been truer than he himself believed.
Magic...I wonder what Leonardo would have said to that. He chuckled. Knowing him, he'd probably try and learn everything he could about it, as excitable as always, and then try to make it work for one of his various inventions. Or all of them. I should probably do the same... Well, learn about magic, at least. That's something I can do, even if I don't have Leonardo's talent for tinkering.
He noted that he'd walked quite a while without really paying attention to where he was going until he nearly walked into a heavy wooden door, his senses having led him here. Ezio knocked loudly. "Professore Colbert, are you there?"
He heard a crack like a pistol shot behind the door followed by a litany of curses in this country's strange French, none of which he could recognize. A moment later the door was thrown open, revealing a harassed-looking Professor Colbert, his face, bald head and robes blackened by ash. "Yes! What is it?" He spotted Ezio, who was feeling rather disconcerted, and frowned. "Who are you?"
"I'm Ezio, professore. Ezio Auditore da Firenze. Don't you remember me?" he asked, confused.
The teacher critically looked him up and down. "I remember you being older by at least fifty years."
"Something... happened to me because of the strange magic the young lady performed. Sister Catherine said you would know better than she did what exactly happened."
"Well, if Catherine told you to come to me, then I guess you really must be him. Come in, come in," the bald teacher grumbled, "let's not stand in doorways all night long, we have better things to do." There was another explosive bang from inside the laboratory and Colbert swore loudly as he hurried back inside. "Nom d'un chien! I thought I turned that thing off!"
Ezio cautiously stepped inside the workshop, ignoring his experience that screamed at him to run away from anything that even remotely sounded like gunshots. He looked around, amazed.
He'd rarely thought that he would ever find a room that was even more bizarre and exotic than Leonardo da Vinci's atelier, but it didn't hold a candle to the bric-a-brac that was Professor Colbert's laboratory. One wall of the high-ceilinged room was nothing but a large bookcase stuffed to the brim with scrolls and leather-bound tomes, another full of strange mechanical designs and blueprints. Another wall was nearly hidden behind a row of cupboards holding a collection of jars of assorted sizes, filled with powders, liquids, grains and other things that Ezio didn't recognize. The worktables were overflowing with opened books and parchments, vials of strangely coloured fluids standing next to a mortar and pestle, a strange apparatus that seemed to be boiling something greenish simmering over a small but intense fire. Mechanical contraptions, some of them quietly whirring and moving, some of them silent or broken into pieces, were scattered over another table. A skeleton of a winged creature hung under the ceiling, but it was no bird that Ezio had ever seen, reminding him more of a winged lizard the size of a horse. An open fireplace threw odd shadows in every corner of the room.
Ezio examined the skeleton, fascinated and perhaps even a little apprehensive until angry muttering caught his attention. "Quelle connerie! I'll have to replace my calcinatory. Again! Those are expensive, and my pay isn't exactly the highest... Mon dieu, the headmaster is going to talk my ear off about wasting academy funds first thing in the morning, I'm sure of it..."
Professor Colbert returned, towelling his face and rubbing off the ash on his face and bald head. "Forgive me, Monsieur Auditore," he said quickly, throwing the now blackened towel into a corner. "Alchemy is a temperamental art. It can even surprise those who have studied it for years and years." He smiled ruefully. "Although it has been a rather long time since I singed my own eyebrows off."
Ezio laughed. "I can sympathize, professore. I used to dabble a bit in it myself."
"Did you, now?" the teacher asked, obviously interested. "What kind of substances did you produce?"
Ezio grinned good-naturedly. "Well, I never found the secret of how to turn lead into gold, but I did have a talent for making explosives."
"An interesting talent for a banker to have," the teacher said casually, watching Ezio carefully over the top of his spectacles with steely grey eyes.
Ezio suddenly felt very uncomfortable, his feet shifting slightly under him. "I'm sorry, professore, what did you say?"
"Oh, nothing really," the teacher said amiably, though the good humour didn't quite reach his eyes. "You told us before that you came from a family of bankers, so I naturally assumed that it was your profession as well."
"In a way, you could say that I am," Ezio said warily. He wasn't exactly lying – he'd certainly made Roma and Constantinople flourish with his investments and had received handsome returns. 'Banker' was a good approximation of what he'd done during his life.
"How extraordinary," the Professor said quietly, walking over to a table, Ezio carefully following two steps after him. "You see, Monsieur Auditore, I took the liberty of going through your belongings while you were unconscious in the infirmary. I hope you don't mind – I saw no other way to ascertain your identity, as we couldn't in all honesty ask you, unconscious as you were! – and consider my surprise when I discover enough weaponry to make even a member of the Queen's Musketeer Regiment green with envy!"
Professor Colbert made a grand gesture, showing the sword, daggers, throwing knives and pouches full of bombs of varying makes and size lying on one of the worktables, Ezio's hidden blades and gun bracers lying neatly side by side next to pouches filled with poison, medicine and bullets; the crossbow and quiver full of bolts at the very back, carefully put out of reach.
The Professor picked up one of Ezio's silver knives, casually balancing it on his fingertip with worrying expertise. "What lawless lands your home must be, if every moneylender has to go as heavily armed as a murderer."
It was then that Ezio was reminded of the moment when he'd seen Professor Colbert for the first time, walking into the infirmary with the assured gait of a predator. Ezio had seen it before in practiced killers. It mattered very little what their motivations were, or if your own intentions were good or bad – as soon as you knew that you had the ability to kill every single human being in your sight, your movements changed. A hardening of the eyes as they roamed around, looking for threats and escape routes, an occasional shift in stance that denoted a readiness for combat, the twitch of fingers towards weapons, hidden or not. Ezio, a man who had fought and killed all his life, knew these signs well.
When Ezio looked into Colbert's grey eyes, he knew that this man was as much a killer as he was, the bumbling teacher nothing more than a facade to fool those who might mean him harm. And he knew that Colbert was aware of his own true nature as well.
"I trust, of course, that these weapons are meant to be used only to defend yourself?" the teacher said politely, holding out the throwing knife hilt first, his eyes never leaving Ezio's for even a moment.
Ezio took it slowly. No sudden movements. "I have only ever wielded them in my defence and that of the innocent against oppression."
"You must have quite a lot of oppression back home, then, if you carry enough weapons to start a war by your lonesome," the Professor said drily, the hint of steel in his voice obvious underneath the sarcasm.
"Quite right," Ezio agreed soberly. "Scoundrels abounded in my home, both common and high-born. But don't worry, professore," he continued, throwing the knife in one fluid movement, hitting the centre of an anatomy drawing pinned to the wall, piercing its chest dead centre. "I promise that as long as I am not attacked first, none here shall come to harm by my hand."
The teacher hadn't even flinched when the knife flew past his face by a mere inch or two. "Can I trust you on that?"
"I give you my word as a man of honour," Ezio said solemnly.
"Good. That's all I wanted." And then Colbert smiled, the facade of the easily distracted teacher reappearing as if nothing had happened. "By all means, take your things, Monsieur Auditore. I have to say that I was quite fascinated by some of them... I think I have your armour stashed in a cupboard somewhere as well, just let me check..."
As Ezio reclaimed his weapons he suppressed a shiver. For some reason, the Professor (who was now happily chattering away about the beautiful design of Leonardo's hidden blades) unsettled him. He would have to be careful around this man – Professor Colbert didn't seem to trust him very much. He would have to be careful not to prove himself to be a threat. Ezio had fought many enemies in his long life and survived, but even he wouldn't wager his own life against a man who could conjure a firestorm at will. He might have been reckless, but he wasn't stupid.
He felt much better when all his belts and pouches were back in their usual places, the sword and dagger hanging by his side, the throwing knives in their sheathes, the crossbow and quiver on his back. Their weight was a reassurance in an unknown world. He picked up one of his bracers, keen eyes watching him intently.
"I admit that I examined those quite carefully while we waited for you to wake up," Colbert said good-humouredly. "I even tried putting them on myself, but all I did was tangle up my own fingers in the straps. Quite tricky to put on, I gather."
Ezio chuckled as he quickly put it on his left forearm, tightening the leather straps attached to metal. "They're even trickier to use. If you hadn't been careful, you might have easily lost a finger or two."
"Why would that happen?"
Ezio flexed a muscle in a movement born of long experience and the hidden blade slid out, a foot of ornate steel leaping forward and catching the dim light of the flames from the fireplace. "That's why, professore."
Colbert's eyes had widened considerably. He leant forward, lightly turning Ezio's wrist this way and that, examining the blade and its bracer intently. "Fascinating... I don't think I have ever seen a mechanism like this before." He looked up sharply. "How does it work?"
Ezio had the decency to look embarrassed. "In all honesty, professore? I have no idea. I had a friend who designed these weapons for me, based on an heirloom left behind by my father. He was... a true genius," Ezio said wistfully. "No one else would have been able to create these blades for me but him."
"Truly, the design of the springs in here is a work of beauty," Colbert muttered as he returned to examine the mechanism of the hidden blade intently. "A friend, you say? I'm sure I would like to meet this man. He seems like an extraordinarily clever inventor."
Ezio relaxed his tense muscles, the blade sliding back with a hiss of metal. "He's dead, professore," he said curtly. "Six years already."
There was an awkward silence as Colbert blinked. "I'm terribly sorry, Monsieur Auditore."
Ezio smiled, a forced grimace that was born more out of politeness than real warmth. "Don't be. He accepted death with a calm I've never seen in a man before or since."
Still, Leonardo's death of age and illness in France had hurt him far more than he ever thought it would, considering how many people he'd seen die in his life. It hadn't been entirely unexpected, but it still rankled at him. He had been unable to do anything.
Ezio suddenly chuckled, remembering something. It was easier to remember things now, as if the fog of age had been lifted from his mind. "He left me a letter before the end, you see. You know what he wrote? 'As a well-spent day brings happy sleep, so life well used brings happy death.'"
Colbert smiled. "Wise words from a wise friend."
"Agreed." Ezio put on the second bracer, the blade jutting out rapidly and back. They were in perfect condition. Ezio had always taken good care of them.
Ezio held out an open hand. "Thank you, professore, for taking care over my things. They mean... a lot to me."
Colbert eyed him warily for a moment before he clasped forearms with Ezio, nodding once. "I'm glad to have been of service."
"Ah, could you help me with another thing, professore?"
"Of course."
Ezio pointed to the bits and pieces of Altair's black armour scattered across the tabletop, looking slightly sheepish. "I can carry my weapons easily, but that armour is rather heavy and cumbersome to wear during the day. Would you keep it safe for me?"
"Certainly!" Colbert answered, waving him over to a large oaken cupboard. He snapped his fingers, the heavy doors opening all by themselves. "Even though I would suggest wearing it, by all means, you can entrust it to me."
Ezio paused in stowing away his armour, breastplate in his arms and throwing an uncertain look at the professor. "Why would you say that?"
The teacher smirked, an amused look dancing in his eyes. "You'll probably need all the armour you can get your hands on, considering you'll be Mademoiselle de la Vallière's familiar."
Ezio felt his stomach sink. "Why? Is she violent?"
"Oh, she is," Colbert said casually. "And she's quite powerful as well. She has a temper like a tickled dragon and the fire to match." His smile widened. "I suggest you watch your step around her."
That's right, I'm a familiar to a mage now, Ezio thought, the realization hitting him like a punch to the chest. He remembered the casual ease with which Colbert had set the air aflame and shuddered. That can't be a good thing.
"Say, professore," he said quickly, trying to think of other, less worrying things as he finished securing the straps of his armour and locked the cupboard. "Sister Catherine told me to talk to you about my changed appearance." He gestured vaguely to his own face. "She said it was... rather unusual, and that you would know more about it that her."
"Sister Catherine? Oh, bless that woman's soul, she's absolutely incredible with the healing arts, but the magical traditions and more complicated arcane theory are not exactly her specialty. Let me see..." He grabbed Ezio's chin, tilting it like a street doctor in Florence would, the examination quick and efficient. "You have become younger, and your scars have disappeared, yes? I remember that you had one on your upper lip before you sealed the familiar contract."
Marvelling at the man's observational skill and memory, Ezio nodded. "That's right. All my scars are gone. I feel stronger, faster than before."
"Hmm... Well then, that means that I have absolutely no idea what's going on. Oh, don't look at me like that, Monsieur Auditore!" Colbert threw his arms up in annoyance. "I may be considered particularly clever by my peers, but I don't know everything there is to this to know about magic! The summoning of a human instead of a beast as a familiar is already unusual enough as it is without the interference of Mademoiselle de la Vallière's magic changing you. It's just too strange! I have absolutely nothing to go on, as irritating as it may be."
"Would this perhaps be a clue?" Ezio took off his armoured gauntlet, showing him the runes carved into the back of his left hand. They still itched, just like old wounds.
"Perhaps," Colbert commented, dragging out a loose piece of parchment from a large stack of papers that was wobbling perilously. He copied down the runes expertly in a matter of minutes, staring at them intently when he was done. "Étrange... I'm sure that I have seen this design somewhere before..."
"What do you mean?" Ezio, getting more and more annoyed with the muttering and cryptic phrases. He'd had enough of it for one life; he didn't need it in another.
"Well, Monsieur Auditore," Colbert said absentmindedly, not taking his eyes off the strange runes, "I think that I will have to visit the library once more..."
"And what shall I do in the meantine?"
"I'm sure that Mademoiselle de la Vallière will welcome you."
"Now?" Ezio asked, disturbed. "It's the middle of the night, professore!"
"Et alors? You're her familiar, aren't you? Where else would you go? Now, do go away, Monsieur Auditore," Colbert said, making shooing motions as he marched over to his worktable. "I have a calcinatory to replace and your dilemma is probably going to rack my brain for quite a while if I can't find an answer. I'll see you tomorrow morning, yes? Goodnight!"
And with that last dismissal, the eccentric teacher began rummaging among his papers, Ezio's presence completely forgotten. Ezio shook his head, amused despite his annoyance. Perhaps the absentminded teacher was more than just a facade.
"Buena notte, professore," he said, moving to close the door the door behind him.
"Monsieur Auditore!" Colbert called out.
"Yes?"
Professor Colbert hadn't turned around from his worktable, still as a statue. The only thing to be heard was the crackle of the fireplace, shadows dancing on the wall.
"Those blades of yours... they're not really designed for self-defence, are they?"
Ezio just closed the door behind him, refusing to answer.
He would have to be careful. Very careful. Jean Colbert was a very observant, very clever, and above all a very dangerous man.
...
I should have asked him for the way to Louise's room first, Ezio grumbled. I never do the obvious thing, do I?
Ezio was on the highest roof of the main building, balancing precariously on the ledge of the highest bell tower, the courtyard where he'd been summoned a few hundred feet below. When Ezio had first seen the size of the main building, he thought it was one of those Gothic cathedrals that the Germans and French liked to build, it was just that huge – but it was as tall as it was wide, with large and pondering stonework, many smaller wings jutting out of the main nave, creating a twisting maze of stone arches, tiled roofs, and unshakeable walls. Ezio suspected that the main building had been the first one built, many hundreds of years ago, and that more and more were added as time went on.
He could see everything from up here. The twistedly complicated main building; the other houses of the village set around the academy like children's play blocks, its streets winding, all heading to the huge edifice at its centre; the five stone walls enclosing the city, forming a pentagon, a gate in each wall and high guard towers at the corners, and beyond them green forests stretching out as far as the eye could see in the dark night.
Ezio marvelled at the size of the academy. When the teacher had told him that he was at the elite magical school of a whole country, he had expected it to be in the capital itself, close to the government's seat of power. He hadn't expected it to be a large village (or a small town, however you saw it) all by itself.
Right. Ezio shook himself, reminding himself why he'd climbed up here in the freezing dead of night in the first place.
Because climbing towers was fun and you haven't done it in years.
Well, that was a bonus, certainly, he realized with annoyance, but he was really looking for Louise's room.
The world flared with darkness, the the contours of dark buildings replaced the moonlight. Ezio looked carefully at his surroundings. The streets were completely empty. Unsurprising – what time was it, anyway?
Ezio let his Vision peter out, glancing at the sky. Two moons hung silently above him, one a luscious green and the other a bloody red. That had been all the proof Ezio needed to understand that he wasn't in his own world anymore. If only he could find the Apple that had brought him to this place, perhaps he would find a way to understand where exactly he was...
He shook his head. He'd deal with that later. First, find the ground under his feet.
His sight flared back on, and he looked at the buildings around him, concentrating on the image of the young girl that had called him here. It didn't take long for a window to suddenly glow a bright blue, the back of Ezio's left hand tingling.
Ezio was prepared to leap off the bell tower when he spotted something at the corner of his vision. He looked up into the sky. Something... golden was up there, flying. Ezio narrowed his eyes, willing them to magnify the odd silhouette.
A dragon. An honest-to-goodness dragon, like the one slain by St. George, was flying in the sky above him, a diminutive figure riding on its back. It was flying in circles high above him, and Ezio had a gut feeling its rider was observing him. Probably a she, but he couldn't be sure at the distance.
Two could play at that game. He raised a hand in greeting, waving sardonically. The figure seemed surprised, but raised its own crooked staff in response a moment later. Nothing else happened, the strange lizard still soaring in the sky above.
Well, at least Ezio now knew what the strange skeleton in Colbert's laboratory had been. How reassuring, he thought sarcastically, glancing over the ledge of the roof.
He leapt off it without a second thought, the wind whistling in his ears as he plummeted downwards, the ground racing towards him at the speed of a flying eagle.
God, how he had missed this feeling.
He landed with a dull thump inside the hay cart. For a moment, Ezio just lay there, enjoying the feeling of soft hay around him. It was very nostalgic, in a way. Some of his greatest successes had ended with him landing in mounds of hay, as strange as that sounded. He hadn't performed the Leap of Faith in ten years now. Doing it again made his blood race with excitement.
He jumped out of the cart, dusting off odd strands of hay off his vest and trousers in an absent-minded manner. They were all suddenly blown off in a strong gust of wind. Ezio's hidden blades leapt out of their bracers as he recognized the dragon from before, its wings pumping hard as if it had just caught itself out of a steep dive, straining to stay in the air a mere ten paces away from him. The rider was tightly hanging onto its neck; her bluish hair dishevelled and an expression of utter shock on her face as she stared at Ezio.
...Had she tried to save him when he jumped?
The dragon settled down carefully in front of the Assassin, but made no move to attack or come closer, only looking at him intently with glinting sapphire eyes. The hidden blades snapped back into their bracers. Ezio eyed the creature warily. Its maw was wide enough to cleave him in two in one bite, armour be damned. He honestly had no idea how to fight a thing of this size except to flee, and even then it could probably snap him up like a running deer. Feeling completely helpless was... disconcerting.
There was a soft thump on the grass as the rider leapt off the animal's back, now more composed. She walked up to Ezio, her expression now utterly impassive and a white-knuckled hand firmly gripping the shepherd's crook in her hand. "How?" she asked quietly. She seemed agitated, her blue eyes questioning.
Ezio considered the rider, who barely reached his chest, keeping the dragon in his sight just in case. Paranoia was a wonderful thing. "How what?" he retorted curtly, unwilling to get questioned by someone he didn't even know.
"Survival," she said, her voice soft as a breath and nearly impossible to hear. "Magic?"
Ezio snorted. In disdain or amusement, he couldn't really tell. "Magic? Heaven forbid, nothing like that." He smiled at the young girl, reasoning he could give that much away. "Just training, skill, and a lifetime of experience. Nothing more, nothing less."
"Commoner?" she asked quietly, her eyes never blinking once.
"Er... probably. I wouldn't know; I'm not of these lands." He made a quick bow, keeping it short. No need to present his bare neck to the dragon any longer than necessary. "Ezio Auditore da Firenze, at your service."
The girl made no bow or curtsy in response, just continuing to look at him intently without saying a word.
Ezio shifted uncomfortably. "Well, madamigella, I bid you good night. Unfortunately, I have an appointment to keep. By your leave." He bowed again, turning on his heel and walking briskly towards the main entrance of the academy, feeling both pairs of eyes following him. He wanted to get away from those two. The dragon was simply dangerous, but the rider was just... strange.
"Tabitha," he heard her quietly say behind him. He turned around quickly. The girl kept staring at him intently, not having moved an inch.
"Is that your name?" Ezio asked cautiously.
"Yes." She pointed with her shepherd's crook at the dragon by her side. "Sylphid."
The dragon nodded its scaly head once, its blue scales winking in the moonlight. Ezio now realized why the dragon unsettled him this much. The creature was not only large and clawed, but it was far more intelligent than any beast he'd ever seen, especially if it was able to understand human speech.
Well, I don't think she'll order it to eat me whole if she bothered to introduce herself, Ezio thought sardonically, this time performing a longer, more elegant bow. "A pleasure to meet you both." He smiled charmingly at the young girl. "Perhaps we'll see each other again tomorrow, si? Until then, buena notte."
The girl said nothing, still staring at him. Ezio quickly took his leave after another moment, marching away with a quick step. That girl unsettled him greatly. Was every person using magic strange in one way or another? He hoped not. He had enough trouble for a lifetime; no need to add any more.
Ezio continued grimly onwards. Let's see how eccentric this new 'master' of mine is.
Behind him, he heard leathery wings flap as the blue dragon took flight once more.
...
She looked so small.
Of course, she hadn't been very tall when he'd first met her. If it wasn't for her waist-length hair, he would have assumed that she was a boy, considering her short figure. But asleep she looked even smaller, like a frail bird hiding in its nest, the way she was curled up in her bed, the strawberry blonde hair flowing loosely.
Ezio considered her, closing the door quietly behind him. The green moon was shining through the clouds and her window, pale light making the bed covers bright as silver and stinging the eye.
He wouldn't call her pretty, because it would have been a lie. When she had first talked to him, she had been condescending, angry, her temper lashing out at him like a whip. It was difficult to forget that kind of first impression. She might have been physically attractive (for some tastes, but probably not Ezio's), but the old Assassin (for he was old, no matter how young he may have looked now) still thought of her like a snake that might bite him at any moment.
He looked around her room. A writing desk with ink and quill, a few shelves full of scrolls and books, a window framed in cast iron looking out onto the yard and the town outside. He crept over to the cupboard, opening it. Nothing more than a few school uniforms in there, along with assorted cloaks and a few changes of clothes. She seemed to live frugally, then. Strange. He would have expected her to be pampered like a princess.
He heard the bed covers rustle and silently closed the cupboard, stepping back as quiet as a ghost. Louise had sat up in her bed, looking at the moon. She hadn't noticed him. He shifted slightly, and the quiet tinkle of weapons moving in their sheaths was all it took to attract her attention.
They looked at each other silently for a moment. She seemed remarkably composed for a woman who had just found a strange man in her bedroom in the middle of the night.
Ezio had no inkling as to the protocol involving a master and a familiar. It was completely unfamiliar territory. What was expected of him?
The Assassin bowed courteously for lack of a better thing to do. He seemed to be doing this a lot lately. "Your wish, mistress?"
Louise just looked at him for a moment before speaking. "Take the laundry basket and get it to the scullery. My clothes need to be washed."
Whatever Ezio had been expecting, it hadn't been that. He chuckled. That was an easy duty to fulfil, at least. No magic, no crazy dragons or eccentric professors, and absolutely no violence. People still needed to get their clothes washed, just like back home. It seemed that this world wasn't as unfamiliar as he first thought it to be.
"As my mistress commands." He picked up the laundry basket and left through the door, closing it quietly behind him. No need to disturb the girl's sleep any more. She looked tired.
As soon as he had left, the laundry basket hefted in his arms, he broke out in guffawing laughter.
...
Ezio was getting more and more irritated by the minute. It was infuriating. Why couldn't he find this damn scullery? He'd been wandering through the winding corridors of the academy for nearly an hour now and had been unable to make neither head nor tail of the way things were arranged here. The building was huge and complicated, winding staircases and dark passages irregularly lit by flickering torches that Ezio suspected were enchanted, because there was no one replacing them. He would have simply asked someone for the way, but the building was deserted, students and servants both asleep.
Ezio shifted the laundry basket in his arms, sighing. He was sure that he'd seen this part of the academy already. Twice. He'd try the ground floor. It was far more likely that the servants were quartered there, anyway.
It was then that he heard quiet voices in the corridor ahead of him. Ezio grinned, elated. Finally, someone who could show him the way! He walked quickly towards the voices, eager to ask for help, only to slow down when he spotted the scene before him.
A girl and a boy standing very close to each underneath the arch of a doorway. Inappropriately close, in fact. The boy, a blond youth with a rose in hand, was whispering sweet nothings in the ear of the smaller brunette, the girl giggling and blushing.
Ezio smiled and made to move past them. Young love. He'd find someone else to ask. He could well remember his own adventures when he was their age. No need to disturb il amore when there was no pressing need to.
As he tried to walk past them quietly, the boy's head snapped up, glowering fiercely. "Who goes there?" he challenged loudly. Ezio rolled his eyes. If he was trying to intimidate him, he was failing.
He stepped into the torchlight. "Nobody special, Messere." He smiled at the two of them. "Just a humble journeyman passing through."
The girl's eyes had widened at his appearance and the boy looked displeased. He'd probably expected the two of them to be left alone. "What are you doing here in the dead of night?" he demanded.
"I could ask the two of you the same."
"Answer my questions, commoner!" the youth barked.
Ezio raised an eyebrow. Touchy. "Just looking for the way to the scullery," he said lightly, holding up the basket of laundry for inspection. "I don't know my way around here."
"Oh, you're one of the servants," the blond said disdainfully. "New here, aren't you?"
Ezio nodded, not having missed the youth's tone. He didn't like it.
"Well, I don't really know where the servants fulfil their duties, exactly, but I would suggest going to the Northern Hall where the kitchens are. I'm sure you'll find someone to give you directions." He turned back to the girl, though he was still glaring at Ezio. "Well, what are you waiting for? Don't dawdle about!"
Ezio inclined his head. "Thank you." He moved past the two of them, suddenly stopping and turning around. "Ah, one more thing."
The youth whirled around, irritation on his face. "What is it, commoner?"
Ezio smiled slightly. "I would suggest you find a more secluded meeting place for your... dalliance," he said in a light tone of voice. "I might not be the only one who wanders about the halls tonight, and you seem to have gone to such great trouble to hide your meeting. Such a shame if someone found out by complete accident, no?"
The girl flushed a dark red while the youth's fingers clenched on his rose. "You insolent... commoner!" he seethed. "I ought to–"
"Guiche," the girl said quietly, sounding embarrassed. "He's right. It's already late, and I'm tired. Let's just go to sleep and talk tomorrow."
"You are tired?" Guiche asked with melodramatic concern, waving his rose about. "Oh, sweet Katie, you should have told me! Why, if you fell ill because of my foolishness, I would never forgive myself! Such a beautiful rose should not be forced into standing out here in the cold! What if something happened to you?"
Ezio watched, dumbfounded. Please tell me I wasn't like that when I was his age.
"Well then, Messer e madamigella, I bid you both good night," Ezio interrupted the overblown dramatic declaration of love he saw coming, bowing quickly. He smiled at the young girl. Katie, wasn't it? He would remember that. "I wish you pleasant dreams, young lady."
The youth bristled. "Watch your tongue, commoner! You are speaking to a noble of Tristain!"
"Noble or not, beauty is always appreciated," Ezio said, grinning. "Good night to the both of you."
As he walked away, he heard the young man mutter in anger. "How dare he speak so familiarly to you? The nerve of some of these commoners! Oafs, the lot of them."
"He seemed nice, though..."
"A charmer, no doubt," the youth said disdainfully, his voice fainting away in the distance. "You shouldn't listen to their kind; they're only trouble."
Ezio couldn't help but chuckle. Well, the hypocrisy in the nobility was the same here as his own home. How reassuring.
"Monsieur Auditore?" a shocked voice asked. "Is that you?"
He looked up and spotted a young girl in a maid's uniform carrying a few bed covers, her eyes wide with surprise. He tried to remember her name. "Miss Siesta?"
"It is you!" she exclaimed happily. "I almost didn't recognize you, you look so young!" She frowned worriedly, an expression that became her quite well. "What happened to you?"
Ezio shrugged uncomfortably, still holding the basket in both hands. "I don't know," he said simply, "and neither does the professore. It's quite unsettling, to be honest."
"I'll believe that. Professor Colbert is a very clever man." Far too clever, Ezio thought acidly as Siesta looked even more worried. "If even he doesn't know... But you're not hurting anymore?"
"I'm fine," he reassured her quickly. "All my wounds have healed. Now, I don't mean to be rude," he held up the laundry basket sheepishly, "but do you know where the scullery is? I have to deliver these clothes there."
"I'm on my way there myself! Just come along, I'll show you!" And with that, the cheerful nurse marched off, Assassin with his laundry basket in tow.
It took quite a while for the two of them to reach the scullery, a surprisingly large room with many different tubs and sinks, drainage pipes and the like to wash the clothes and plates of all the students and teachers of the academy. There were a few other servants there, who all greeted Siesta warmly and viewed Ezio with interest, and perhaps slight suspicion. As Siesta started washing clothes, she chatted to Ezio about anything and everything. Without really wanting to, he learned quite a lot about her. Sister Catherine had been right; the young girl was quite the chatterbox.
She came from a small village in the south of Tristain, as the country was called, by the name of Tarbes. She was the fifth of nine farmer's children and had left the village at an early age to seek employ in the city, thinking that one less mouth to feed would help out her family more than another hand on the farm, sending back most of her earnings. She'd found work at the Academy and had caught Sister Catherine's eye because of her diligence, who allowed her to help out in the infirmary.
"So you're not a mage?" Ezio asked, confused.
"Of course not!" the girl said, looking shocked. "What gave you that idea?"
"Well, you were helping out a healer, so I assumed–"
Siesta laughed. "No, no, I'm not a noble. I earn my money as a servant here and help out Sister Catherine when I can with planting herbs and rolling bandages." She smiled wistfully as she washed clothes (Ezio had tried helping out, but had been forced to admit that he was more a hindrance than a help). "If I was a noble, I could help my family far more than the few meagre sous I send home every month... But it's not that bad!" she said quickly when she saw Ezio's expression. "Many commoners don't even get the chance to work for the nobility! We may have a lot of work, but the pay is good! It's not that bothersome, really."
"So it may seem," Ezio muttered quietly, and Siesta quickly changed the subject, talking about the wondrous sights of the academy; the library, the great dining hall, the Vestri court, the Founder's Chapel, the shops and artisans in the village... Ezio couldn't but feel that she was trying to fill a void and he simply listened with a polite smile, absorbing as much information as he could and occasionally cracking a wry joke to make Siesta laugh.
After a while, though, the young servant looked at Ezio and smiled impishly. "So, Monsieur Auditore! You've heard quite enough about me, now it's your turn to tell me something about yourself!" She leant forward, interested. "Are you a soldier?"
Ezio was taken aback. "A soldier?"
"Well, you must be, why else would you carry so many weapons?" she said, her tone sounding far too reasonable. "You wouldn't carry them if you didn't need them, right?"
"For a very long time, I was a merchant and moneylender," Ezio explained quickly. He didn't want her to spread rumours about his true occupation. "After that, I became a farmer."
"A farmer?" Siesta said, her eyes wide with surprise. "Really?"
"Yes," he said proudly. He'd always liked the peace he found in the vineyard with Sofia and his children. "My wine was some of the best in the Toscana."
"Toscana?" She frowned at the unfamiliar word. "Where is that?"
Ezio was again reminded that he wasn't home anymore. "A country back in my homeland. Don't worry about it."
"So why the swords and knives?" Siesta asked curiously.
Ezio shrugged. "I used to travel a lot. The roads weren't always safe."
Siesta nodded. "That makes sense. When you want to travel to the big cities and to foreign lands, you always need to hire guards. There's brigands and cutthroats everywhere between here and the capital." She sighed. "I'm rather disappointed though."
"And why would that be?"
"You're not a soldier!" Siesta exclaimed, pouting. "Soldiers always tell the best stories!"
Ezio couldn't help but feel amused. "And what makes you think that I don't have a tale for you?"
And so he sat there on the worktable, legs dangling comfortably, telling the young maid stories from his travels. As Mentor of the Assassins, he had travelled far and wide across the known world and had many amusing stories to choose from, even if you omitted those which had to deal with the secret war with the Templars. Siesta listened intently to the stories of beautiful Roma and exotic Constantinople, to his descriptions of tombs, buildings, markets, caverns and the colourful people he'd met. For someone who liked to talk, she could also be a surprisingly good listener.
Both of them never noticed the time fly until Siesta realized that there were no more clothes to hang up to dry. "Goodness!" she said, aghast. "It's that early in the morning already? I have to go to the kitchen; Marteau will be waiting for me!"
"The cook?" Ezio asked, smiling.
Siesta nodded as she rapidly folded up Louise's clothes. "He is a strict man! If we're late, he makes us work more with no pay! You should get back too," she ordered, pushing the laundry basket with the dried clothes into his arms. "The students have to wake up at dawn for breakfast, so you'd better wake up Mademoiselle de la Vallière!"
"Why would I do that?" he asked, puzzled.
Siesta looked at him as if he was stupid. "Why, you're her familiar, aren't you? Don't you have to take care of her?"
"Do I? Nobody really told me what a familiar is supposed to do."
"Just ask Mademoiselle de la Vallière, I'm sure she'll fill you in! I have to hurry now; good luck!" With a quick wave, the maid hurried away, leaving an apprehensive Ezio behind with a basket full of laundry smelling of lavender, not really knowing what to do.
Good luck, he thought, considering how to deal with a suspicious teacher that could conjure fire at will, a dragon the size of a small house and its worryingly quiet rider, and not to mention his master's temper.
He sighed. I'll probably need it.
...
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.
The phrase 'As a well-spent day brings happy sleep, so life well used brings happy death,' is a direct quote from the first of many notebooks written by Leonardo da Vinci. His writings are in the public domain.
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