As I ascended the stairs, my eyes were fixed on the glowing gold light that had brought me to this strange time. Frederico followed closely behind, apologizing and I suspect, bribing the Madonna of the establishment for my odd behavior. I barely paid attention to his actions. All I wanted were answers. Despite the beauty of 15th-century Italy, I longed to return home.
My feet carried me towards the light until I reached the door of the room Adam and I had stayed in. I hesitated for a moment before pushing the door open. As soon as I entered the room, my eyes widened at the sight before me. A couple was in the middle of a passionate act, and I immediately regretted not considering the possibility of walking into an occupied room at a brothel.
"Jesus fucking Christ," I exclaimed under my breath, trying to quickly back out of the room. What was I thinking about coming here? Why would the glowing light bring me here? This was not helpful. But before I could make my escape, the man on top of the woman looked up at me and flashed a charming smile, his dark brown eyes, and shoulder-length hair only adding to his appeal.
"Either get out or join in," he said with a playful tone, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. I blushed deeply, feeling embarrassed and uncomfortable.
"I-I'm sorry," I stammered, turning on my heel and quickly making my way out of the room, slamming the door shut behind me.
As Frederico followed me out of the room, I couldn't shake off the shock of what I just witnessed. My mind was still processing the scene, and I needed a moment to collect my thoughts.
"I wish to speak with your father," I said, my voice firmer than I intended.
Frederico looked at me with confusion, "My father? Why?"
"Because he might have answers," I replied, feeling frustrated that he couldn't understand the gravity of the situation.
I stepped out of the brothel, the bright sunlight blinding me momentarily. I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself down.
At the Palazzo Auditoire:
To my dismay, Giovanni Auditoire was absent from his residence. After walking me back, Fredrico had an errand, Pertuccio was upstairs, soundly napping, and Claudia had ventured out. This left only Maria and me in what could be described as a vast library or study.
Maria's initially warm gaze transformed into one of suspicion as she scrutinized me. "Who are you, truly?" Her piercing stare was just as intimidating as her husband's had been the day before. Oh, not this again.
I hesitated before responding, "Brielle Gauthier," I finally replied, my voice lacking the uncertainty of my previous response but still tinged with fear. I now see where Claudia perfected her gaze from.
"Are you somehow entangled in my husband's affairs?" Maria's voice grew sharper as she closed the distance between us, her movements forcing me to retreat until my back pressed against the solid frame of a towering bookcase. A perplexing thought crossed my mind: her husband was primarily involved in the world of banking, so why would she suspect me of being entwined in such matters?
Caught off guard by her sudden proximity, I mustered the courage to respond, my words carrying a blend of confusion and apprehension. "I assure you, Maria, I have no involvement in your husband's work," I replied, my voice echoing with sincerity, while my mind raced to comprehend the situation I had found myself in yet again.
I could discern the skepticism etched across Maria's countenance, her penetrating gaze piercing through my feeble attempts to hide the truth. It was evident that she believed I was concealing something, and, in all honesty, she was not entirely wrong.
"How was your journey from Paris?" she inquired, her tone shifting, as if gauging my reaction.
"Lengthy," I responded evasively, my voice betraying a hint of uncertainty. Was she testing me, trying to unveil the secrets I guarded?
"And how did you make your way here?" Maria continued, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.
"By horse..." I murmured, my words trailing off. Did they keep horses in stables outside the city during this era? I cursed my lack of knowledge about the intricacies of living in the 1400s. Man, I desperately needed a crash course in historical living.
"And pray tell, where is your horse?" Maria's voice carried a subtle edge, revealing her intent to challenge me further. She was undoubtedly testing my credibility.
"At the stables... beyond the city walls," I replied, mustering an answer that seemed plausible. Nevertheless, a pang of uncertainty gnawed at me.
Maria maintained an air of suspicion, her voice remaining guarded as she relented. "Rest for now, Brielle Gauthier of Parigi. Giovanni will be home after supper."
Acknowledging her continued wariness, I nodded in gratitude and expressed my thanks to Maria. Even as her suspicion lingered, she managed to regain a semblance of pleasantness, reminding me that my presence in the Auditoire household was tenuous, at least with the women of the household it seemed.
I was retreating to the guest bedroom when a surprise greeted me in the form of Pertuccio, whose head suddenly emerged from the hallway. He cast a shy glance in my direction, clearly mistaking me for someone else.
"Hello," I greeted him gently, offering a warm smile.
In response, Pertuccio tentatively waved back before cautiously asking in Italian, "Can you read?"
It occurred to me then that not knowing the main language here was going to be a great barrier. "I'm sorry, I'm not familiar with Italian," I admitted, feeling a pang of frustration.
Undeterred, Pertuccio repeated his question, this time switching to English. It was a stroke of luck that the young boy possessed a good education. Although with parents like Giovanni and Maria, I should hardly be surprised.
"I can," I replied, my voice trailing off as I turned away from the guest bedroom to face him. "Although, only in English and, well, French," I added with a light chuckle. To my surprise, Pertuccio rushed over and eagerly grabbed my hand, urging me to follow him to his room.
Though Pertuccio didn't utter many words, his longing gaze conveyed his desire for me to read to him. Understanding his unspoken request, I willingly obliged, settling into a chair beside his humble single bed. He handed me a worn copy of "Les Aventures de Jean-Petit," its pages carrying the enchantment of a bygone era. As I began to read, I was transported into a whimsical world brimming with mythical creatures and magic, the story unfolding before us.
Despite Pertuccio's limited command of French, I found joy in the task, immersing myself in the tale's enchanting narrative. However, as I read, I noticed his occasional struggle to grasp certain phrases. Thus, I took it upon myself to translate portions of the story into English, and to my surprise, Pertuccio further translated them into Italian. In this delightful exchange, language barriers melted away, and our shared enthusiasm for the tale united us in a joyful exploration of imagination and storytelling.
As our laughter resonated through the room, Jean-Petit's comical mishap causing our uncontrollable giggles, our merriment was abruptly interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat at the partially opened door.
To our surprise, it was Vittoria, entering the room with purpose. "Ora di cena," she announced, her voice carrying a mix of authority and warmth. It was evident that she had arrived to assist Pertuccio.
Pertuccio, sensing my momentary confusion, quickly interjected, eager to provide clarity. "Supper time," he clarified with a smile, ah, that makes sense. I returned the smile as I stood.
Later that evening in Giovanni's small private study:
I found myself hunched over, my left elbow resting on the desk, while my chin found solace in the palm of my hand. A nervous energy coursed through me, causing my knee to bounce incessantly. I fought the urge to rush Giovanni, but my curiosity gnawed at me as I observed him shuffling through the papers strewn across his desk.
"Relax, Brielle," he said, his voice soothing, accompanied by a warm, fatherly smile.
Anxious to know the outcome, I couldn't help but blurt out, "So, what have you discovered?" I immediately regretted the brusqueness in my tone, hoping it didn't come off as rude. Gathering my thoughts, I continued, a touch of desperation creeping into my voice. "You see, I returned to my hotel, or rather, brothel, it doesn't really matter. And there it was again—the glowing light. But, but, it led me to nothing. So, please, tell me you have some answers." My words spilled out in a ramble. Much to my annoyance, Giovanni seemed amused, exacerbating my self-consciousness.
His voice held a mixture of anticipation and caution as he declared, "I have both good news and bad news to share. However, before I proceed, there are certain matters that require explanation. In order to divulge this information, I need your unwavering promise that it will never leave the confines of this room." The gravity of the situation mirrored the solemn expression on his face, reminiscent of our initial encounter. I responded with a firm nod, signifying my understanding of the seriousness of his request. Yet, Giovanni sought further assurance.
"Swear it," he insisted, his words laced with intensity.
"I swear," I responded resolutely, my previous nervous leg bouncing coming to a halt. "I won't breathe a word to anyone." The weight of his trust settled upon me, reminding me of the significance of the secret we were about to share. Who would I tell anyway?
In a hushed tone, Giovanni revealed his clandestine existence as an assassin, committed to a Creed dedicated to opposing the Templars, the malevolent force I summarized as the "bad guys." He delved into the historical significance of their ongoing struggle, recounting the tales of past heroes, including a man named Altair. His eldest son, Federico, was poised to follow in his footsteps, soon to become his apprentice. As for Ezio, Giovanni anticipated his involvement once the young man matured, signaling the weight of destiny.
The torrent of information washed over me, forming an overwhelming cascade of knowledge. How did I fit into this intricate tapestry? What role did I play, and why was it of importance? Were these revelations merely an elaborate fiction? Honestly, I probably would have thought it all to be bullshit if I hadn't fallen through time. I was caught between disbelief and acceptance.
I regarded him with a blank expression, my mind struggling to grasp the relevance of his revelations. "Why does any of this matter to me?" I managed to keep my voice steady, determined not to let it betray my growing unease.
Giovanni released a weary sigh, his own burden was apparent, perhaps more than I had initially realized. "The good news is that I've managed to trace back the lineage of the Gauthiers," he began, gauging my reaction. I maintained my blank stare, suppressing the rising anticipation that threatened to consume me. I despised the lingering uncertainty; I simply yearned for clarity, a glimpse of the signs that would guide me back to my own time.
He paused, his words hanging in the air, before continuing, "Your lineage, specifically, is connected to the French Creed. Moreover, there's a unique manifestation within your bloodline—an extraordinary form of eagle-eyed vision that aids in deciphering the prophecies of Eden." Giovanni's voice carried a weight of revelation. I found myself leaning forward, gripping the edge of my seat, desperate to hear the full extent of his disclosure.
With a flicker of intensity in his eyes, he delivered the crux of his message, "I believe that you possess this ability, and it's precisely what enabled you to traverse through time."
A surge of excitement coursed through me, animating my entire being. "That's incredible!" I exclaimed, unable to contain my elation. "So, it means there's a way for me to return to my own time, doesn't it?" My voice brimmed with hope, my mind already envisioning a path back to the familiar embrace of my era.
The flicker of hope that ignited within me was quickly extinguished by Giovanni's lack of shared excitement. Slowly, deflation settled over me, and I sank back into my seat, the weight of disappointment pulling me down.
Giovanni let out another sigh, a tinge of sadness coloring his expression. It was evident that he too wished he could provide the solution I yearned for. "I cannot discern the exact prophecy you were brought here to fulfill," he confessed, his words heavy with uncertainty. "But I imagine that it must be completed before you can find your way back home."
The disappointment that welled up inside me threatened to overwhelm me. Who was I, a nobody from a different time, what help would I be to an assassin? I don't fight, hell, I wanted to heal. The reality of my insignificance in this vast world collided with my hopes, leaving me disheartened and disillusioned.
"Dude, this fucking sucks," I muttered under my breath, my head sinking back into my palms.
Rising from his seat, Giovanni moved around the desk and stood before me, his hand resting gently on my shoulder. At first, I tensed, but gradually, his reassuring presence eased my apprehension. His voice resonated with a calming assurance as he spoke, "Do not be afraid. We will persevere and unravel this mystery together. In the meantime, I believe it would be beneficial for you to train alongside my sons. Maria can teach you Italian, and I suggest we spend evenings deciphering the enigma of your tattoos."
Man, it sounded like a lot of work but I nodded, if it got me one step closer to home I was willing to try.
AN: Next chapter Ezio will be more present, it'll be a slow burn though.