As Ezio, Amelia, and Mario led the small band of soldiers through the town gates, the villa bustled with new life. Soldiers and townsfolk gathered in the courtyard, their faces alight with a sense of victory and relief. Torches flickered in the fading light, casting long shadows against the stone walls, their flames dancing in celebration of the day's triumphs.
As the group entered, a cheer went up among the gathered men. Ezio felt a rush of warmth at their welcome, and even Amelia couldn't help the small, satisfied smile that curved her lips. They had struck a blow against the Pazzi, and for now, the shadow that had loomed over the town had lifted.
"And here he is! Our campione, champion, Ezio!" Mario's voice boomed through the courtyard, a wide grin splitting his face as he gestured for silence among the soldiers.
"All hail Ezio!" the soldiers cheered, raising their drinks in salute. Laughter and applause echoed off the stone walls, mingling with the sounds of clinking tankards and the chatter of excitement. Ezio couldn't suppress a smile as he moved through the crowd, clapping a few of the men on the back, feeling the tension in his chest ease just a little. But even as he shared in the moment, a part of his mind remained focused on the next steps, on the weight of the task still ahead.
Amelia watched him from the edge of the gathering, her expression a mix of pride and understanding. She knew well the burden that sat heavily on Ezio's shoulders. With a wide grin, she clapped him on the back, leaning in close enough for her voice to carry over the noise. "Enjoy it, Ezio. Victories like these don't come every day."
Ezio smirked slightly, catching her gaze. "I see you've wasted no time starting the celebration."
Mario let out a hearty laugh, stepping forward to guide Ezio through the crowd. "And why not?! You've done us a great service, nipote—nephew. With Vieri dead, la Toscana—Tuscany—will grow quiet once more. Do you know what that means?" His eyes sparkled with mischief, and he gestured toward the soldiers who gathered around them.
"Basta lavorare! No more work!" one of the soldiers shouted.
"Si passa tutto il giorno a bere! We can drink all day!" another chimed in, raising his tankard high.
"E a puttane! And with whores! What?! It's true!" a third added, prompting a roar of laughter from the crowd. Even Amelia had to stifle a chuckle at the good-natured camaraderie.
The cheerfulness was infectious, but Mario soon waved the men down, his expression turning more serious as he gestured for Ezio and Amelia to follow him. They moved away from the noise, walking toward the quieter edge of the courtyard, where the shadows of evening gathered around the old stone archways. Amelia walked beside them, her steps slowing as she absorbed the changes in Ezio's demeanor—how the tension in his shoulders seemed to return as they left the celebration behind.
"Come, Ezio. Walk with me," Mario said, his voice quieter now, more somber.
Ezio glanced over at Amelia, noting the steady determination in her gaze, and then turned back to his uncle. "Yes, uncle? The Pazzi answer to another; a Spaniard." He spoke the words with a hard edge, anger flickering beneath his calm exterior.
Mario's expression darkened, the warmth of the celebration slipping away. "He is Rodrigo Borgia, one of the most powerful men in all of Europe and leader of the Templar Order."
Ezio's jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists. "Which makes him responsible for the murder of my brothers and her father," he said, glancing at Amelia, his voice thick with barely contained rage. Her eyes flashed with a brief, shared understanding of the pain that bound them both.
"Yes," Mario confirmed, his tone grave. "And he will kill you too, given the chance."
Ezio's face hardened further, a mask of cold determination settling over his features. "Then I must stand against him if I wish to be free... But not until every other Templar has fallen to my blade. Father's list will guide me."
Mario studied his nephew for a long moment, then nodded, a shadow passing over his face. "Where will you go next?"
"Firenze. Francesco de' Pazzi will share the fate of his son," Ezio replied, glancing toward Amelia. She met his gaze, her expression steady and resolute, giving a single nod of agreement.
"A sensible next step. No doubt he intends evil for the city," Mario said, clapping a hand on Ezio's shoulder. "Alright. That's enough grim talk for one night. I'll be in my study if you need me." With a parting nod, he turned and headed toward the shadowed entrance of the villa, leaving the two younger Assassins standing beneath the evening sky.
As the sounds of the celebration drifted from the courtyard, Amelia lingered, watching as Ezio pulled a folded letter from his pocket. The wax seal had already been broken, but he hesitated before unfolding it, his expression clouded with uncertainty. Sensing his inner turmoil, Amelia stepped closer, placing a hand gently on his arm. Her touch was light, but the warmth of her presence was grounding.
"You've done well, Ezio," she said softly, offering him a small, sincere smile. "It's not easy, facing what you have. But you're stronger than you know."
Ezio looked down at her, caught off guard by the kindness in her words. A hint of emotion flickered in his eyes, and he managed a faint smile in return. "Grazie, Amelia. It means a lot, hearing that from you." He hesitated, then added, "I don't know if I'd have made it through without you."
Amelia's smile softened, but there was a seriousness in her gaze as she searched his face. "We still have a long road ahead, but I believe in you. Just... don't lose yourself to vengeance. It can be easy to let the darkness swallow you whole." Her voice was low, almost a whisper, as if sharing a truth that she had learned the hard way.
Ezio nodded, his expression thoughtful as he considered her words. "I'll try to remember that." He hesitated, then glanced back toward the villa. "Remind me not to ever get on your bad side. You're terrifying in a fight."
Amelia let out a small laugh, swatting playfully at his arm. "You'd do well to remember that, signore," she teased, a hint of mischief returning to her eyes. But beneath the lightheartedness, there was a deep, unspoken understanding—a sense that they had both found a kindred spirit in each other, forged through the fire of shared battles.
As Ezio finally unfolded the letter and began to read, his brow furrowed at its contents, the weight of the words settling heavily on his shoulders. He didn't share what he read, but Amelia could see the shift in his expression—the determination that returned, tempered now by something more somber.
When he was finished, he tucked the letter away and made his way into Mario's study. Amelia followed him through the dimly lit halls, their footsteps echoing off the stone floors. Inside, they found Mario and Giovanni poring over a large map of Italy, the parchment spread across a wooden table and marked with inked notations.
"Uncle, father, I found another Codex page on Vieri. Leonardo will decode it for us," Ezio announced, holding up a worn, ancient piece of paper.
Mario's eyes gleamed with interest as he looked up. "Ah, good. There's more—come here," he said, gesturing for Ezio and Amelia to join him. He pointed toward the wall where several ancient papers were pinned, filled with cryptic symbols and faded writing. "Look familiar?"
Amelia's breath caught as she recognized the pages. "Other Codex Pages..." she whispered in awe, stepping closer to examine them. There were at least a dozen, all bearing the same strange, looping script. "So this is where Father and Giovanni have been sending them."
"Yes," Mario said, his voice turning somber as he glanced at Giovanni. "Your father managed to find and translate a few before... well, before the trouble began. But here, this is not Matteo's work. Someone else translated these."
"Leonardo da Vinci. A friend," Ezio explained, thinking of the eccentric but brilliant artist who had helped him so far.
Mario nodded, then gestured toward the wall. "Do you see how the words cross from one page to the next?"
Ezio studied the overlapping symbols, his brow furrowing in concentration. "There's something beneath it all. A map, maybe?"
Giovanni stepped forward, his face lined with the weight of the secrets he had kept for so long. "Your uncle and I believe it's part of a prophecy. Written by an Assassin named Altaïr. He spoke of something ancient and powerful, hidden beneath the land."
Amelia frowned, glancing between the two men. "What is it?" she asked, a note of unease creeping into her voice.
Mario's expression was grim. "That's the mystery... But if you're willing to continue your father's work, we may yet find out."
Ezio straightened, a determined light returning to his eyes. "I'll help. I'll start with the page I took from Vieri. I'll have Leonardo decode it."
Mario placed a hand on his nephew's shoulder, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Bene. Return here when time permits, and we'll add it to the wall."