"Well?" I asked quietly, and he didn't respond right away. I couldn't see his features in the shadow of his hood, even with the street torches lighting up the night sufficiently.
"Yes, I see him... If I can stay my blade long enough, he'll lead us to the others," Ezio muttered, restrained anger in his voice. He was getting better and better at controlling his emotions, a lot different from the way he let out his fury in the very beginning. I'd seen Vieri's body, and it was not pretty.
I put a calming hand on his arm. "We'll just have to wait and see, then. Let's get to it." He lightly jumped down to the ground, and I followed. No one saw us in the alley, and two people walking out of a dark street did not cause any suspicion. No one even recognized Ezio from the posters that we tore down whenever they began showing up. Short enough to look under the hood, I glanced up at him and nearly flinched away - his eyes were dilated to the full, a light, but unnatural golden glow to them. He was still using this "Eagle Vision", easily picking out our target in the crowd.
As Jacopo walked through the streets of the town and nervously glanced around, guards flocked to him. They trailed around the streets, probably trying to make sure no one was following. More often than not, the procession would pause and look around, at which times, Ezio had to hide behind corners. I didn't stand out anymore, with my clothes more historically accurate now, so I kept walking with crowds of people. As Jake once said to me, if you want something hidden well, hide in the most obvious spot in plain sight.
"Isn't he late?" Ezio thought out loud at one point, keeping his voice so low that only I could hear it. I looked up to the sky. It was approaching midnight, at least. "He doesn't seem to hurry to the meeting."
"I think he's afraid. I don't think Borgia is happy with him after the failure in Florence," I whispered from the corner of my mouth, "And considering the deaths of his co-conspirators...I'd be paranoid too."
"You? Really?" He seemed to find the concept funny. I mock-glared at him.
"I still have some common sense left."
"Oh, yes, because helping an assassin and walking head first into a Templar nest is definitely a smart idea."
I made sure Jacopo was still in sight before continuing the conversation. "Would you like me to leave?" I raised an eyebrow.
"Would you if I asked?"
"No," I snorted in defiance. "Sorry, but you're stuck with me."
"Of all the people to be stuck with..." he sighed heavily.
"Do you want me to hurt you?"
"No, no, we're on a job." He hurried to move away from me, at the same time as getting out of de'Pazzi's line of sight.
"You're right. They're probably going to hurt you without my help."
"And what of you?"
I smirked. "I'm too quick, even for you."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"Whatever helps you sleep at night…damn," I stopped. We were near the gates now, and Jacopo has already gone through them, so we lost sight of him momentarily. But the hitch was that there were already four guards standing in front of the city entrance, their stance giving the clear message that the only way to move them would be along with the ground underneath them. Ezio seemed to have noticed that too, because he crossed his arms. "Walls?"
"No. It'll take too long, and there are guards there." I looked around with some desperation, and then suddenly smiled. He glanced at me, and followed my gaze to the four mercenaries lounging beside one of the building, and I heard a very quiet groan. "Please tell me that's not what you're thinking."
"Well..."
"It'll wake up the entire town!" he hissed, and I rolled my eyes in frustration.
"Don't be difficult! At least we'll get through! Come on, it's not like we have much choice!"
"Oh, I'm being difficult?!"
"The clock is ticking," I reminded him, and after a long pause, he shut his eyes and waved a hand to the men.
---
The ruins were no more impressive in the dark as they were in daylight. Except now they were crawling with soldiers. I couldn't tell their colors as to whether or not they were allies or enemies. But somehow I figured we could safely assume they wouldn't take our presence kindly. It was harder for two people to hide, so me and Ezio split up. While he snuck around the entrance, I went around to the front.
"-it was Francesco's fault! He was too impatient! I- I tried to be the voice of reason-" I didn't recognize the voice. It belonged to an old man, someone I only identified as Jacopo when I was hidden in the shadow of a column. He was begging with a hooded man, the same one we saw before Vieri was killed. And the same man that Ezio claimed was in the Templar meeting in Florence. Mario said the Spaniard was Rodrigo Borgia, a name that triggered a little bell in my head. But boy, did he look pissed.
"More like the voice of cowardice!" This was someone definitely someone new, who I'd never seen or heard before. The sneering old man wore blue robes and a matching beret. All very expensive looking, I might add. Whoever this was, he must have been important and rich. Then again, now it was starting to seem that anyone with any sort of power is inevitably either a Templar, or a target of the former.
"We put our faith in your operation, and yet you and Francesco failed, and Firenze is still in the hands of the Medici!" Borgia hissed as Jacopo paled further, shaking like my mom's old blender. "How do you expect me to respond?!"
"I don't know..." Somehow, this reminded me of a child trying to explain himself in front of his father. Yet these were much, much bigger mistakes. If things continued like this, then Ezio wouldn't need to kill anyone tonight.
"That's okay," the Spaniard replied, a lot more calmly now. As he reached into the folds of his robes, I realized that I was correct. "I do." And with that, he stabbed the old man in the stomach. Jacopo blinked a few times, as if in surprise, and clutched his robes. Blood began seeping through his hands, soon exploding into garish color along the fine silks. My gaze snapped up to the place I was sure Ezio would be, as if trying to find his eyes in the darkness.
"No- I can... I can still fix this!" Jacopo gasped out, and I felt an unexpected tug of sympathy. He was an old, shivering man, however evil. The new guy in blue clothes pushed him to the ground, laughing cruelly. "J-just spare me...maestro!"
A little too late for that. I watched as he fell onto his knees, and Borgia smirked coldly with the corner of his mouth.
"Spare you? I don't think so." Stabbing Jacopo clean through the shoulder one last time, he left the man to bleed out on the ground as he cleaned off the dagger. I bit my lip as Jacopo gasped and twitched on the ground. "Sorry to take you target... Assassin." My eyes widened as my gaze snapped to the man. He had his back to me, turned towards...
Dammit! Ezio, who remained concealed until this moment, was suddenly exposed. Grasped from both sides by two guards and dragged forward, he had a look of defiant surprise as he struggled against their hold. He would've killed The Spaniard on the spot from the intensity of his glare alone. It was a real shame that wasn't part of his Eagle Vision.
"Did you really think we didn't know you followed us? Or your little friend?" My eyes widened further as I felt someone get a hold of me, holding my arms behind my back in a strong grip. I was pushed out into the torch light, the Spaniard barely sparing me a look over his shoulder, the fat bastard. Ezio glanced at me with sudden worry, as I didn't even try to struggle, even out of instinct. "We've been at this a lot longer than either of you." I suddenly felt a strong urge to spit at him. I clenched my teeth, mentally searching for any way to get out.
"Let her go," Ezio said in a clear, threatening voice. I looked at him with shock. Borgia raised his eyebrow slightly, barely a hint of surprise. "She doesn't have anything to do with this."
"Ah," he glanced at me with a twitch of his stupid little beard. "Then she's either more important that that, or she's an ally of yours. Either way..." The Spaniard beginning to leave, he threw an order to his guards. "Kill them."
I felt a blade at my neck, which paused, as the guard holding me stopped to watch Ezio as he smirked with defiance.
"I know you're just doing as you're told, so let me go, and I won't kill you," The young assassin's voice was strangely calm, which almost made me smile despite the strong grip on my arms, the blade at my throat and the half a dozen unfriendly guards surrounding us. One of the men holding Ezio laughed.
"You're not in-" his words and laughter were cut off as Ezio extended his hidden blade into the man's throat. As he freed his arm, he slammed his other blade into the other guard's stomach, and kicked him to the ground. Using the general shock, I suddenly kicked back, twisting my arms out of the guy's hold, and in a flash, the knives I had up my sleeves were in my hands. I stabbed behind me with both, the groan and thump telling me I did not miss.
"Ezio, I'm not going to lie," I shouted as me and him met halfway in the middle of the ruins, standing back to back as the soldiers unfroze, getting into defensive position, "That was freaking awesome."
"Not so bad yourself!" he yelled back, as the men began to surround us.
"A shame the others got away," I dodged a sword, driving my dagger into one of the opponents, "But I guess we have our hands full here, anyway."
"You can say that again!"
"But I guess we have-"
"I didn't mean literally!"
"Oops. Well, you could have said so."
"Is now really the time?" he asked, as I heard him clash blades with someone.
"You're right. This is the time where people proclaim undying love or some other corny crap like that, which follows them to the early grave."
"You're insane!"
"I thought we established that."
The guards did not seem to like the fact that we weren't taking them very seriously. Some were simply staring at us with confusion and irritation as we chopped them into bits.
"Um... Ezio?" I gulped, ducking right before a Brute nearly sliced my head off with his battle axe, "How do you deal with these things?!"
"Disarm them," he instructed, and I jumped to the side as the massive battle axe whistled through the air again.
"Are ya kidding?! That tin can is twice my size!!!"
"You've taken down larger men!"
"I meant the axe," I elaborated as I rolled away from the tinman, quickly getting to my feet again. Ezio was busy fighting off at least three guards at once, so I was on my own. A plan formed before I could even begin to recall common sense. As the axe dropped down on me again, I grasped the handle, keeping it down with my weight at the same time as kicking the man in one of the less protected areas (three guesses where). As he howled with pain, I let go of the weapon, and struck my own into the depth of the helmet. More blood sprayed onto my clothes, and I let out a quick sigh of relief.
Ezio had just finished up as well, and leaned onto one of the columns, panting. I don't think he was hurt, which amazed me, considering the number or enemies we just dispatched. Not counting the now former banker, there were almost a dozen corpses on the ground. More around the young assassin - he was deemed more dangerous and wanted. "I think we should finish Jacopo off," I wiped off the blood off my cheeks as I examined the stains on my clothes with distaste. The old man was still gasping on the ground in pain, not even trying to move anymore, just curled around his wound like a child. "Save him the misery."
"You're right," Ezio nodded, coming up to the old man. His knife didn't even make a sound as it sliced through his throat. "Go forward friend, unburdened and unafraid. Requiescat in Pace." I didn't recognize the last phrase, as it wasn't in Italian. But it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what he said.
"You are a strange man, Ezio," I said thought fully as I recovered my throwing knives from the corpses. "I wouldn't call him a friend, exactly."
"It's a prayer for the dead, Eden, out of respect," he snapped, and I was taken aback slightly.
"I didn't mean anything by that. If you show your respect for death that way, I'm not going to insult it."
"How do you show your respect, then?" he raised an eyebrow standing up. I glanced at the corpse of the old man.
"I-" I stopped suddenly at the question, unsure how to answer. "I don't play with death, and I don't kill anyone who means no harm. Unless I'm forced to. And I feel regret when I am. It's no prayer, but that's the best I can do, because I'm fairly certain they don't want my voice to be the last thing they ever hear. Is that enough, or do I have to learn Latin?" I raised an eyebrow, and he shook his head, rubbing his forehead with his hand.
"I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm just..."
"Exhausted. Yeah, I figured." We walked in silence for a few moments. I then suddenly remembered something, and punched his arm.
"OW! What the hell was that for?!"
"'Let her go'?! Were you actually insane enough to say that?! What were you thinking?!"
"I suppose I wasn't," he glared at me.
"Damn right! Did you really think that they'd let me skip off? Or that I would if they were crazy enough to set me free?" That seemed to shock him into silence, and I closed my eyes, taking a calming breath. "I did not come all this way along with you just so I could play a helpless damsel in distress and walk away from all of this!"
"Alright, alright! I just... wanted to give it a shot. I wouldn't forgive myself if you died, considering I led you to your death." Now he shocked me into silence.
Looking away from him, I crossing my arms."It's hard to stay mad at you when you say things like that, you know."
"I do, I really do." He cheered up immediately, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to hit him again or give him a hug. An involuntary smile spread on my lips.
Way too charming for his own good.
"We should head back to Monteriggioni, and then back to Firenze. That man beside Borgia was Emilio Barbarigo, the letter mentioned him," he referred to the letter we took off the body of one of the conspirators. "We will most likely find him in Venezia."
"Venice?" I asked with some confusion. Italian names for cities were still a little strange to me, "As in the city on the water?"
"Yes. Then I take it the city exists after five hundred years?" he asked with a smile, and I rolled my eyes.
"What does that have anything to do with anything?"
"Nothing. Just nice to know."
"So we're going to Venice," I clapped my hands together as I fished my bag out behind the stacked crated by the stables. "I've always wanted to see it."
"Well, I'm sure you'll enjoy the trip then," he ruffled my hair.
"Hey, hey! I'm already soaked in blood, don't add any more!" A passing woman looked at us strangely, and hurried away. I followed her with a thoughtful glance. "Well, I can honestly say I'm not coming around San Gimignano anymore. Seems like my face will be added to the posters now. The Templars know about me."
"Yes. The question is, though, how did they knew we were there? And that there were two of us?" He took a hold of his horse at the gate of San Gimignano and calmed it down quickly as it twitched nervously at the smell of blood. I didn't have such luck - it took two apples I had in my bag for my horse to stop trotting away from me every time I tried to get in the saddle. Ezio watched the process with amusement. When the chestnut mare finally allowed me to grasp the reigns I glared at him, and then at the horse. "Seems like she has an attitude, like her owner," he smirked as I finally climbed onto its back.
"I'm not her owner. I borrowed her from the Monteriggioni stables," I snorted as I pealed off my gloves, which were completely wet now. "Damn, I'll have to replace these. And I don't have an attitude!"
"Really? So I guess I have you confused with some other stubborn and cocky girl from the twenty first century. Do forgive me, cara mia."
"Do you want a bullet in your forehead? 'Cause I think I can spare a few."
"What are they made of, anyway?" he suddenly asked, and I threw a glance at him. We began moving along the road that the road sign claimed led to Firenze.
"I'm not really sure, actually. It was always easy to get a hold of some through my contacts, and I never thought I'd be stuck in the past. Why?"
"Well, I was wondering if Leonardo could create some for you. They might come in useful."
"Oh, hell no. I'm not giving him any more ideas than his head is already filled with. I found sketches for a calculator in his drawers, for God's sake! The man already has his head in the future," I chewed on my lip. "No. If he gets the recipe for the bullets, it won't be long before he creates a gun to match, and that would be screwing... well, everything up."
"Alright, alright, it was just a suggestion," he put hand up in a peace making gesture. "Maybe we can find you a crossbow. They are probably heavier, but you are better at ranged attacks than melee."
"A crossbow?" I thought about it for a moment. "That's actually not a bad idea. It would take a while to get used to, but the technique is somewhat the same from what I know... I mean, except for the gunpowder, of course. Wait, are you telling me there are absolutely no guns around?"
"Well, there are some firearms, but I doubt you can find one," he shrugged. "Then again, talk to Leonardo. Maybe you can find a compromise."
"Well, I'm okay for now. I still have bullets stashed for the handguns and the sniper rifle. But I'm going to run out eventually. I guess I'll just have to live with it. It's not like I can use them very much, anyway.." I nodded to myself as we rode along.
With Jacopo out of the way, both of us escaping relatively unscathed, and being able to identify The Spaniard on sight now, it was a good day. Or night.
Whatever.
---
~Rocking to the music's simple rhythm is a simple movement for a simple life. The music was vaguely familiar, somewhere in the background. The crowds make me almost claustrophobic, but I was used to it. All of it. The light flashing in my face, the fuzzy vision, the warm alcohol effects in my stomach, the thudding in my body with every beat.
It's easy to forget things in here. There's no thinking - the song is louder than any thoughts. Rocking... rocking... with someone? Alone? In the crowd? I'm not sure anymore. It was bliss, but it was dangerous. I understood that somewhere at the very back of my head. I could lose myself. I wanted to, even. But I stayed around, still sane, still grasping onto my humanity with both hands, as if there was a reason for it. As if there was something I was meant to do before I could let myself be lost completely.
Reason crashed around me. Humanity was a hard thing to keep when the only reason that remained to me was to kill for the gang. As a weapon. As an assassin.
I stopped dead, suddenly becoming aware of my surroundings, sobering sharply. A familiar hand grasped mine, and a thousand reasons flooded my mind. Not excuses, like before, but responsibilities, wishes, desires, friends. A point.~
---
I opened my eyes, all traces of sleep gone. I didn't see anything but the darkness of the room for a few moments, sitting up as it began to dissolve. I could now make out the moonlight coming through the cracks in the curtains, leaving an arrow of light on the floor. I stood up, slightly disoriented, and with a heavy sigh, walked out the door, running a hand over my face as if wiping away spider webs.
I was heading to the kitchen, but suddenly, I stopped in front of Maria's bedroom. I could see candle light flicker in the gap under the door. Ezio and Claudia zealously kept the candles lit, at all times, even at night. When I asked why, Claudia looked at me very seriously, and very sadly, and said that when her mother comes back to them, they didn't want her to be in the darkness.
I quietly pushed the door open and walked in, sitting down on the bed softly. Maria didn't even acknowledge my presence, and continued her silent praying. This was how she spent all her days now, for the last few months. Only moving from the spot to eat, not looking at anyone, not muttering a single word. Just kneeling in front of the chest where the white feathers were kept. Ezio brought her more, whenever he found them. I'd seen him run a hand through her hair gently, pain twisting his features. I'd seen him sit here, staring at her with sorrow. I'd heard Claudia trying to get her to talk. I knew Mario kept an eye on her as well, sometimes calling for doctors to see if they could help.
But nothing ever changed. Not even a spark of recognition for her own children. Or maybe there was, but it was clouded so densely by her own pain. I hated seeing people like this, reminding me and making it feel as though my mother was dying all over again. It was all too familiar, if dulled slightly by the years.
I sighed. I didn't know why I came here, really. What did I expect? A conversation?
The dream I had... no, it wasn't even a dream. Or a memory. Just a reflection, feelings, thoughts I kept away from when awake. It reminded me of my pain then, and the unexpected relief I felt now. Somehow, I knew exactly who to thank for it. The idea of destiny suddenly became more clear to me.
"I don't know if you can hear me, or if you even know who I am," I began speaking softly. There was no response of any sort, but I continued. "I'm not sure what I'm even doing here. I guess I just want to try and help. I know how you feel, Maria," I took a slightly shaky breath. "After my mother died, I couldn't believe that an angel like her could die. It was unfair, inhuman, a nightmare. I couldn't accept it was the reality until I lay in the hospital, after surgery, thinking. I didn't talk to anyone, just lay there and thought about everything. About my parents, about my sister... about the child I will never have now. And the more I thought..."
I closed my eyes, remembering the sheer torment I felt back then, and even now, sometimes. "The more I hated myself. I felt like I killed all of them. Even if Eve was alive, I felt like she died, and it was all my fault. I killed my child, I killed my future. I could barely live with the pain of knowing that my home was completely empty, that when I came back, there would be no one to meet me at the door, to give me a hug. My mom wouldn't be reading a book in the living room, my sister won't need to be picked up from school anymore... and then, I realized that I would never have anyone in my life again. It hurt like hell, worse than any wound maniacs could have ever given me."
Maria remained absolutely passive through my entire monologue, but I felt a little better. It felt like I was pulling out thorns, one by one. It stung, but relief followed quickly. And somehow, I hoped that in some way, it could help.
"And I don't know why I never attempted suicide. I dragged myself through nearly every bar in New York, I tried to drown myself in the blood of others, but nothing helped. It just numbed the pain a little, before it began fading. Sometimes, I felt that if death came for me a second time, I would welcome it with open arms. The entire time, I felt like I was keeping myself alive for something, though I couldn't understand what else was left for me. I didn't have a job, I would never have a family again, I couldn't do any good in the world. And in the beginning, it burned like hell to breath, to think, to talk."
"After a few years, I tried to become like my mother, always smiling, always happy. It was the only thing I had left of her, her laughter in my brain, her smile on the back of my eyelids. It was hard, but after a while, it got easier. The more I forced laughter, the more natural it became."
Tears streamed down my face now, and I took a deep breath, wanting to finish. "It wasn't until I met your son that I began to get my purpose back. I had to help him, I had to try to keep him from becoming the mess I was when everything went to hell for me. And then he made me realize that there are still reasons for my life. That I could still do some good. I saved a man's life in Florence, I helped kill the murderers of your family, of the Medici, and probably so many others." I opened my eyes and looked at Maria again, not surprised to see no trace of emotion on her face. "Ezio is a good man, and I just wish I could have met him sooner. Maybe then I wouldn't have had to keep myself from death, but instead, live my life," I smiled slightly to myself. "I just wanted you to know that I will do everything I can to keep him alive and well. And happy, if I can manage it. It's the last thing I can do for this world, the only thing I can do to repay him."
I took another breath, and wiped my tears with the back of my hand. And then I stood up determinedly, and walked out of the room.
---
"Come on, how many?"
"Forget it!" I laughed, shouldering his side. I felt a whole lot better now than a few hours ago. Ah, the wonders of alcohol. Well, only a little bit of alcohol, since Ezio took away the bottle from me before we downed even a half of it.
After leaving Maria, on the way my back to my room, I noticed that his door was cracked open and he was sitting on the bed. Reading a book by candlelight, apparently. And with a cup of wine in hand and a large decanter on the table next to his bed. In just his trousers and tunic, and dark hair shaggy and undone, he didn't look half as deadly as he usually did in his standard armor and bristling with weapons. He seemed... like an innocent man, almost. Without thinking, I knocked on the doorframe, surprised when he looked up and invited me in with a grin. God knew that wine looked tempting.
A few cups later and we were both comfortably splayed out along the bed. Fully clothed of course. I wasn't idiot enough to attempt anything further. Shockingly, neither was he.
"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours!"
"And how's that an even trade? I can guess without you telling me!"
"Alright, try!"
"Fifty."
"Hey, I'm still young. That's physically impossible."
"I beg to differ! There are three hundred and sixty five days, or fifty two weeks. So, one a week, you should come close..."
"I'm not quite that bad!"
"Oh, please! Alright, how many, then?"
"Only - hey, you first!"
"Oh, God, this is like girl talk. Fine, five," I rolled my eyes. Ezio rolled his head to look at me.
"That's the big number you didn't want to tell me?"
"Hey!" I lifted my hand to point a finger at him and glared. "I, unlike you, don't jump in bed with every guy that comes along."
"Hey yourself! I don't either. I never slept with a man, if you must know," he joked, and I felt the chuckle rumble in his stomach as I rested my head on it, my arms crossed beneath my chin.
"Really? Then I guess we can definitely rule out the female theory. Unless, of course..."
"Ha ha, very funny."
"Well, I told you my number."
"Not so fast! Who were they?"
"And why do you care so much, anyway?" I looked at him with an eyebrow raised. He stared back, a light smirk in place.
"Curiosity. Besides, you're the one that woke me up, which deprived me of my beauty sleep."
"Yes, you obviously need more of that. And you were already awake, I just kept you up."
"Just answer the question!"
"Fine," I looked away, slightly annoyed. "They were mostly high school crushes. I was a little naive, and wanted comfort, I guess. Of course, a bunch of hormonal teenage boys are more than eager to... hm, offer comfort. I dumped them shortly afterward."
"So you've never been in love?" he raised an eyebrow, and I shouldered him again.
"You know, this whole friends bonding thing is starting to get weird, Ezio. Next thing I know we'll be braiding each others hair and giggling over teen magazines."
"I'm sorry, che cosa?"
"Oh, forget it. If I wasn't half dunk right now, I'd probably kick your ass for asking in the first place," I mumbled.
"But since I did ask..." he hinted, and I smiled fleetingly, bringing my hand up to bring out the chain around my neck.
"I loved Alex, though it was hard since he kept going away, on duty in the army. But he always came back. He was sweet and interesting, but had a backbone."
"And did he know about the... um..." his hand hovered over my stomach. How much did he have to drink to be so bold, I absently wondered.
"Nope. I was in a happy relationship for once. I wasn't going to screw it up so fast."
"Um, he wouldn't have left because of it, would he? I mean, you're from the future! This shouldn't be a problem in the future!"
"I don't know. But I didn't want to take that chance," I sighed, stretching. "Alex was a good boyfriend. But I guess we were not exactly honest. I never told him about the gang and stuff, and he never told me he didn't have any family."
"How do you know if you loved him, then?"
"I judge a man by his actions, not his past," I stuck my tongue out at him in a silly, childish gesture. "Now, spill. What's the number? If it's something like forty nine, I'll hurt you!"
"No, please don't, I bruise easy. And it's only about ten." I stared at him for a second, before I began laughing. "What?"
"Poor girls! I don't know how these things work, but I doubt their fathers appreciated it!"
"Oh, they didn't," he muttered darkly, and I snorted.
"So what, no arranged marriage anywhere on the horizon? You were a noble, and everything, right? Those don't usually marry for love."
"Uh, no. No arranged marriage. Not that I know of. And besides, just because nobles marry to expand their influence does not mean they can't be in love!" he paused, and I noted through a slight drunken haze that his hand never left my belly, resting on it. It was warm, but very heavy... "My parents were happy," he distantly smiled, "Very happy."
"Well, I'm glad to see your parents were."
"Were yours unhappy?"
"Nope. As far as I remember, they were as in love as you could get," I sighed at the memories, somewhat wistful. "That's why it was a shock when dad left; I couldn't figure out why he'd do something like this. Do men leave their wives and children here? Mario seemed outraged when I told him."
"Not...usually. Marriage vows are "until death do us apart." Does that change?" he asked curiously, and I rolled my head side to side.
"No, they still are. Will be. Sometimes. Except divorce is apparently counted as death. Let's just say family bonds aren't what they used to be."
"So was all of your life this depressing?"
"Was yours?" I countered, smirking slightly. He shook his head. "Exactly. Once upon a time, you were happy with your life, going around the block, competing with your siblings, being told off by your parents, you had money in your pockets and people to call friends. Am I right?" I rested my cheek on his stomach, facing him.
"Yeah, I suppose that... sums it up," he swallowed hard.
"Well, that's what my life was. Except for the going around the block thing, that's just you. I had a family, I had a little money, I had a future. Me and my sister were actually close, or as close as we could get while still fighting over everything. My dad drove me to dance rehearsals, and my mom tried and failed to teach me how to cook. And even after all that went away, there were bright sides."
"Like what?" he murmured, fingers absentmindedly tracing circles into my shirt along my shoulder. I instinctively shivered under the touch, as light as it was.
"Like I could kick anyone's ass, for example, and I could buy and sell things that you probably couldn't find in your average corner store. Being outside the law has its benefits, you know," I wrinkled my nose slightly, "But sometimes, I'd give up a lot for a nice bottle of expensive perfume. All my contacts were either gang members or druggies. So, not the people who smell nice." A sudden thought stuck me. "Why is it that we always end up talking about my past? I mean, it's not the most cheerful."
"Yeah, but it's interesting," he shrugged looking at the ceiling. "A lot more interesting than being a banker's son."
"Aw, come on, tell me something. It feels like you know everything about me now."
"Well, I didn't know you could dance," he offered, and I waved my hand in the air.
"I liked it, a long time ago. Then I quit. But you're dodging the question. You're really good at that, you know," I narrowed my eyes at him, realizing he didn't answer my previous question either.
"Well, fine. What do you want to hear about?"
"It's the fifteenth century! I barely know anything about this period except that you people liked to paint on churches. I don't know what sort of paint that is, but it really sticks..."
"Well, you've seen Firenze, and you lived in Monteriggoni for over a month. I think you blend in rather well."
"Ah, yes, by the way, remind me to chop off my hair soon. It's getting too long and ruining the entire blending thing.," I lifted a strand thoughtfully.
"Nah, keep it. You can always braid it back or something. You…look nice with longer hair." He ran two fingers through it, and I felt another shiver run down my spine.
"I almost got caught because of it once."
"Well, I'm here to make sure that won't happen. Just trust me."
"And you still dodged the question!" I pointed an accusing finger at him.
"I can't think of anything that you'd want to hear about! I mean, you're from the future. You already know things about the past, but we know nothing of the future."
"For the record, I barely know anything. I didn't even speak Italian until I magically appeared here. And history is very boring, I barely listened to any of it."
"But-"
There was a knock on the door, interrupting him. I shifted my eyebrows together, and sat up. The knock repeated, more urgent this time.
"Yes?" I asked as I opened the door. Lisa looked at me, and then glanced at Ezio, who also stood up with some confusion.
"Er... Signorina Cleare, there's a problem."
Arching a brow in question, I shook my head. "And why are you telling me that?" I was getting more confused by the second. She was biting her lip nervously.
"Because there's a man outside with a small mob, asking for you."
"Oh boy. What do they want? Cause I'm fairly sure I don't pay taxes on the account that I'm not a citizen."
"I don't think that's what they want." She seemed scared, and I narrowed my eyes, walking back into the room, to the window. I shifted the heavy curtain to the side.
"Lars," I muttered, and I felt Ezio come up beside me. The mob did not look friendly, with their torches that shone brightly in the night. "I think he took things too personally. I mean, so I left a little harmless explosive in his fireplace. He deserved it!"
"Well, they don't seem amused at your practical jokes. I'll get rid of them."
"No, don't," I put my hand on his shoulder, stopping him, and then began gathering my things.
"What are you doing?" he watched the progress with curiosity and confusion. Lisa was still in the doorway, unsure what to do.
"I'm leaving a little earlier. Go out there, and stall while I get out of here," I shouldered my bag and turned back to him.
"You're leaving?!"
"I'm not going to fight them all. Whatever he told them, it won't bode well for me. Staying is more dangerous, so I'll just meet you in Florence tomorrow afternoon." I explained, and offered him a reassuring smile.
"Listen, we can reason with them-"
"We can, but why?" I grinned brightly, something that did not fit the situation at all. "Adults like to play games as much as children. And since when are you the more mature one?"
"Out of the two of us, I'm definitely more mature."
"Do you really want to get into this discussion while there's a mob outside, waiting to set me on fire?" I raised an eyebrow.
He leaned towards me slightly, staring into my eyes. "Either I don't know you at all, or you're planning something."
"Whatever gave you that idea?" I was still smiling coyly.
He stared at me for a long moment, and then sighed, rolling his eyes. "There's no way of talking you out of this, is there?"
"Nope."
"And you're going to do whatever it is you're going to do, no matter what I say?"
"I wouldn't be me if I didn't."
"You're right," he smiled. "Okay, I'll play along. What's your plan?"
"Just go out, and distract them for a few minutes. Tell them I'm gone, or that I died, I don't care. Just keep their attention for as long as you can."
"And what about you?"
"I'll climb out the window. Just don't worry about anything. I'll meet you in Florence, at Leonardo's. I hope your Uncle won't mind me borrowing the horse again."
"I'll deal with Uncle."
I smiled wider, and stood on my toes to give him a brief hug. "Say goodbye to everyone for me," I muttered as he returned the embrace. "Alright, let's get this show on the road."
---
"Lars, we shouldn't be here. If Messer Auditore hears..."
"The witch is in there, she probably has them under some spell. We're doing them a favor," Lars snapped, gripping his torch harder.
"You so sure about that?" Ezio appeared out of thin air, casually leaning on the door frame of the front entrance to the villa, his arms crossed. "Buona sera, gentlemen."
"Where is she?!"
"Who?" he asked, noticing a barely detectable movement out of the corner of his eyes.
"That demonic puttana!" Lars snarled, shaking his torch menacingly.
"Eden?" he smirked, struggling to remain calm in the face of the mercenary's slur against her, though for all appearances, he looked almost bored with the entire situation. "I'm sure she'll be happy to hear that name for her." The men weren't stupid enough to attack him, hopefully. No innocent blood should be spilled over Eden's careless actions and Lars's arrogance.
"Where is she?!" Lars growled, and Ezio rolled his eyes. Eden had just rushed by the walls, blending in with the gray stones. She needed a few more moments to safely get out of sight.
"I'm afraid Signorina Cleare has left. She won't be coming back, don't worry."
"What?!"
Eden, I hope you know what you're doing. Ezio let out a deep breath as he followed her shadow with his eyes. After another second, she disappeared completely.
---
Larsono walked into his house. No, walked is the wrong word. He stormed and raged into the house, his fury running hot. Hurling his coat away from him, and kicking over a chair in a fit, he didn't even bother lighting a candle, sitting in complete darkness, except for the square of moonlight on his floor.
Wait a moment. That window was closed.
His anger forgotten for a moment, he walked over to it, and bending down, picked up a piece of glass in shock.
"This is a nice place you have." He turned around sharply at the voice. "And I'm sorry about the window." She sat in his one and only armchair, her legs and arms closed, but her voice pleasant. Her face was hidden in a shadow, making her nearly one with the darkness and almost demonic, sending shivers down his spine. But he growled despite the fear growing in him.
"And there I thought you'd leave without giving me a goodbye kiss."
"Still so foolishly bold," she nonchalantly continued. "How I wish I could kill you for that."
"You couldn't kill me, woman," he sneered. "You're weak, that's why you sent out that that son of a-"
"I wouldn't finish that sentence if I were you," she interrupted, still relaxed, but her tone swiftly becoming icy. "I don't let anyone insult my friends. Or their mothers."
"And what are you going to do?" he mocked, "Wave your little dagger at me?"
"Why would I do that?" she was smirking. The next moment, there was a loud noise, and the remaining glass on his window blew up, showering him with shards. He sprung away from the window in shock, backing away from Eden at the same time. Slowly, she stood up. "Keep on patronizing me, and the next thing to blow is your head."
"Get away from me, succubus!" he yelled in panic as she thoughtfully tapped her chin.
"You know, I've been called so many names before... Bitch, orphan, whore, thief." She came closer, moving slowly, making his nerves jump with every sudden twitch. "Killer. Murderer. Assassin." There was a flicker in her hand as a blade appeared out of nowhere. He pressed his back against the wall, his entire being hoping it would swallow him up, anything to get away from her. "But succubus? That's something new. I could gut you alive for that, as well as the little mob of witch hunters you've gathered."
The tip of her blade was now at his throat, and she still remained grinning, her smile carved in stone. "I could easily slit your throat, and I wouldn't feel even a spark of regret." He was shaking now, afraid to even twitch. She was serious. God, she was serious. She could kill him. She would kill him. "Or I could torture you for a while? Carve designs into your worthless hide? It won't matter, any way I do it, people will just say 'Oh well, poor chap,' and move on. No one will miss you, and the fathers of the girls around this town will praise the skies that you will no longer corrupt their daughters. And that's it. No one will care."
"I- I- I-"
"Coward," she snorted, "Faced with a silly little woman, and you can't do anything but shake like a leaf during a storm." She made a grimace of disgust, taking her blade away from him. "Lucky for you, I don't kill people for being cowardly, arrogant, ignorant and rude. You are still innocent, and I don't kill innocents. But…" she turned over her shoulder. "That doesn't stop me from teaching them a lesson." After a short, terrified yelp on his part, she lifted her fist and slammed it into his face. The force of it made his head snap back and bash against the wall as he howled in pain, frantically pressing his palm into his face. He felt as though his nose was set on fire, blood leaking through his fingers.
"Let's see you charm those poor girls with that wrecked face of yours," she shook her hand a little. Turning away and ignoring the slight sting of her bruised knuckles, she pulled on her gloves.
And while he was trying to see past his pain, she disappeared.
---
I patted the horse on the neck. "Hey girl. Shall we?" My mount responded with a snort, and I sighed. "And now I'm talking to a horse. Do you even have a name, sweetheart?" Of course, the animal did not reply. And I swear I saw her roll her eyes. "Well, then," I hopped into the saddle, making sure my bag was secure, and picked up the reigns. "Let's assume you're mine now, even though I have no idea how to take care of a horse. I don't think I'll be able to come back here." She remained passive as I began riding towards Florence. "How about the name Chestnut?" It snorted. "Oh, I know, I know, very unoriginal. But you have to admit, very fitting."
Another snort, and I laughed shortly. "Fine, fine, you difficult horsey. Oh, god, I'm no good with names. Um, how about..." I thought about it, but somehow, nothing came to mind. "Grr... okay, I'll come up with something," The horse twisted around to glare at me. "Well, honey, you need a name. Then at least I won't feel like a complete idiot talking to a nameless horse. Wait, that's it! Honey! What do you think?" Another indifferent snort. "Strangely enough, I still feel like a complete idiot. Oh well. I'm supposedly insane, so I have an excuse. What's yours for snorting at me all the time?" I paused, and shook my head at myself. "Right. You're a horse. Duh."
I looked back to the walls of Monteriggioni. They were barely visible in the darkness, only the flags waving around on the towers. The little windows of the villa shined from a distance. I took a deep breath, and turned back to the road. This was the first time I traveled alone like this. Hopefully, there won't be a band of suicidal bandits after easy robberies.
---
Translations
Cara mia - My darling or Darling of mine
Che cosa? - What?
Buona sera - Good evening
Puttana – Bitch or whore