As Amelia and Ezio approached the bustling village square, the familiar sights and sounds of Florence wrapped around them. After two years of traveling through Tuscany—chasing down leads on Cesare Borgia and collecting hidden Codex pages—the city held a sense of both nostalgia and tension. The scent of freshly baked bread mingled with the sharper notes of street vendors hawking their wares, and the chatter of the townsfolk filled the air, creating a constant hum that seemed to settle in Amelia's bones.
The tranquility of their return was shattered when a young man bumped into Ezio, nearly sending him off balance. Ezio's hand instinctively reached for his belt, but his pouch was already missing.
"What? My pouch—my money!" Ezio's voice rose in alarm as he scanned the crowd, catching sight of the thief slipping into the crowd with a cocky grin.
Amelia's eyes narrowed as she spotted the thief weaving through the market stalls. "Ezio, don't let him get away," she urged, her voice carrying a note of urgency.
With a determined nod, Ezio took off after the pickpocket, weaving through the throng of people. Amelia followed closely, her steps light and purposeful, her focus unwavering as she tracked both the thief and her companion. The chase led them down a maze of narrow alleys, the thief darting between market stalls and leaping over barrels, scattering fruit and crates in his wake.
"Get back here!" Ezio shouted, pushing himself to close the distance.
"Make me!" the pickpocket taunted over his shoulder, throwing a crate of apples into Ezio's path.
Ezio leapt over the obstacle, determination etched into his features. "You're making a big mistake, my friend!" he called, his tone turning stern. "Enough of this!"
The pickpocket glanced back, a smirk on his lips. "Enough indeed! Why don't you give up?"
With a final burst of speed, Ezio lunged forward, tackling the pickpocket to the ground. Amelia skidded to a stop beside them, catching her breath as Ezio pinned the thief's arm behind his back.
"I really have no interest in hurting you," Ezio said, his voice tight with irritation as he kept the thief pinned. "So give me back my money, and we'll call it even."
Before the thief could reply, a shadow fell over them. "Not so fast," came a smooth, confident voice.
Amelia looked up, her eyes narrowing as a figure stepped into the light. A man with a hooded cloak, his smile sharp and knowing, stood above them. "What do you want? Who are you?" Ezio demanded, his grip tightening on the thief.
The stranger chuckled softly. "They call me many things: Murderer. Tagliagole(Cutthroat). Thief. But you may call me La Volpe. At your service, Messer Ezio."
Amelia's expression shifted, recognition flickering in her eyes. "La Volpe," she murmured, taking a step forward. "I've heard stories about you... You knew my father, didn't you?"
La Volpe's smile softened slightly as he looked at her, nodding with a touch of reverence. "Indeed, *signorina*. Matteo was a dear friend to me. A great man, skilled and wise beyond his years. We shared many adventures in these very streets." His gaze lingered on her, his tone becoming more earnest. "He would be proud to see the woman you've become, fighting alongside the Assassins with such determination."
Amelia swallowed, feeling a pang of bittersweet emotion well up in her chest. "Thank you, La Volpe," she said quietly, her voice thick with emotion. "That means more than you know."
La Volpe inclined his head, a knowing look in his eyes. "I know what it is to carry the memory of those we've lost. But know this—you do him honor with every step you take."
Ezio, sensing the gravity of the moment, released the pickpocket and let him scamper away. "I didn't expect our paths to cross like this, amico. How do you know my name?" he asked, his tone more relaxed, though curiosity still tinged his words.
La Volpe chuckled again, offering a sly smile. "It is my business to know everything in this city, Messer Ezio. Isn't that why you're here?"
Ezio exchanged a glance with Amelia before nodding. "Indeed. I need to find someone—to know where he'll be before even he does."
La Volpe's expression turned serious as he considered the request. "Who?"
"Francesco de Pazzi," Ezio replied, the name carrying a weight of anger and determination.
La Volpe stroked his chin thoughtfully. "There's word on the street of a caravan just arrived from Roma. A secret meeting at sunset tonight. You can learn something of Francesco's whereabouts there."
Amelia studied La Volpe's expression, searching for any hint of deceit. "And where is this meeting?" she pressed gently, her eyes narrowing.
"Ma certo(Yes)," La Volpe replied smoothly. "It is my business to know, and I will show you. Let me know when you're ready, and we'll go." He reached into his cloak, tossing the pouch back to Ezio with a flourish. "Oh, yes. Here's your money."
Amelia caught the playful glint in his eyes and couldn't help but smile, despite herself. "Lead the way, La Volpe. We'll keep up."
La Volpe gave a quick, approving nod and darted into the shadows, leading them through the winding streets of Florence. He moved like a phantom, his footsteps barely making a sound against the cobblestones. Ezio and Amelia followed, leaping over low walls and scaling the sides of buildings with practiced ease.
As they moved across the rooftops, La Volpe slowed briefly, allowing them to catch up. He turned to Amelia, a rare, serious expression crossing his face. "Your father once told me that the strength of a family lies not in blood, but in trust and loyalty. You and Ezio, you fight like family—like those who share a common heart."
Amelia met his gaze, a small, sincere smile tugging at her lips. "We've been through a lot together. It hasn't always been easy, but... I wouldn't trade it for anything."
Ezio, listening to their exchange as he scaled a nearby ledge, shot a quick glance in her direction. "Nor would I," he said, his voice low, but carrying a depth that surprised even him.
Amelia's heart skipped a beat, caught off guard by the warmth in his tone. But before she could dwell on it, La Volpe turned, gesturing toward the church that loomed in the distance, its shadow stretching long against the evening sky. "Here we are. Francesco de Pazzi is meeting his people inside that church."
Ezio nodded, determination settling into his features as he looked toward the church. "How do I join them?"
La Volpe pointed to a stone handle embedded in the wall. "There are catacombs that run under the city. They'll lead you to a place where you can eavesdrop on the meeting. Grip that handle, turn it, then slide it down."
Amelia studied the entrance, a smirk tugging at her lips as she glanced at Ezio. "Guess it's time to get our hands dirty again. Just like old times, right?"
Ezio smirked back, nudging her lightly with his shoulder. "Let's hope there are fewer rats this time, amica mia."
La Volpe chuckled, clapping Ezio on the back before taking Amelia's hand briefly, a gesture of respect. "Your father would be proud, signorina. Buona fortuna(Good luck)to you both."
With a final nod of gratitude, Ezio and Amelia jumped down to the entrance of the catacombs. Ezio slid his fingers into the eye sockets of the skull, and with a low rumble, a circular opening yawned open in the floor beneath them. He looked over his shoulder at Amelia, a hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.
"Ladies first?" he suggested, stepping aside and gesturing to the dark hole.
Amelia rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at her lips. "How gallant of you, Ezio. But I think you'd better go first. I'd hate to step on your fingers while climbing down."
He chuckled softly, shaking his head as he swung his legs over the edge and dropped into the darkness below. Amelia followed right after, landing lightly beside him in the musty, cold air of the catacombs. Bones littered the ground, remnants of lives long past, and the scent of damp earth clung to the walls. The only light came from the distant glow of a torch mounted further ahead.
"Charming place," Amelia whispered as she dusted herself off. "Remind me again why we're sneaking around in a crypt?"
"Because someone has to keep you out of trouble," Ezio shot back with a wry smile, leading the way forward through the narrow passage.
They moved together through the dilapidated catacombs, the walls closing in around them as they navigated ancient passageways and crumbling stone steps. Ezio's steps were sure, but Amelia's sharp gaze swept the shadows, wary of any movement. Her hand rested on the hilt of her sword, fingers flexing in readiness. After a few minutes of navigating through the underground maze, they came to a large chamber. A lever stood to the north, framed by crumbling stone archways. Ezio approached it, pulling the lever with a grunt. A heavy metal gate creaked open, revealing a path that led deeper into the crypt.
"Let's move quickly," Amelia suggested, glancing at the bones scattered around them. "I don't like being down here any longer than necessary."
Ezio nodded, but a playful smile lingered on his lips as he turned to face her. "Afraid of a few skeletons, Amelia?"
She gave him a pointed look. "No, but I wouldn't put it past you to accidentally wake the dead."
He chuckled under his breath and they continued forward, leaping over gaps in the floor and swinging from ancient beams. At one point, Amelia reached for a ledge above them, but her foot slipped on the slick stones. She gasped as she lost her balance, her hands scrabbling for purchase against the wet rock. Ezio's arm shot out, catching her by the wrist just before she could fall. He grunted with the effort, hauling her back up onto the ledge beside him. Amelia found herself inches from his face, her heart hammering from the near miss. Their breaths mingled in the cold air, and for a moment, all she could see were the flecks of gold in his eyes, the softness hidden beneath his rough exterior. She let out a shaky breath and leaned forward to connect their foreheads, grounding herself so her anxiety would ease away.
He held onto her hand for a moment longer than necessary, his expression shifting from surprise to something softer. "You know, Lia, I'd rather not have to rescue you twice in one day."
"Don't get used to it. I prefer saving myself, but I suppose I owe you one." She recovered quickly, flashing him a cheeky grin.
Ezio's smile widened, a rare, genuine warmth that softened the edges of his usually stoic expression. He released her hand slowly, lingering for just a moment before turning to continue climbing. "I'll keep that in mind. Just try not to give me another heart attack, alright?"
As they reached a platform high above, Ezio turned to survey the room below, where two guards lingered by a gated door. Their voices echoed off the stone walls as they complained about the cold and their tedious watch. Ezio motioned for silence, and Amelia nodded, crouching beside him as they listened.
After the guards shut the door behind them, Ezio and Amelia dropped silently into the shadows. They moved with practiced precision, slipping between columns and crumbling arches until they reached the gate. Ezio found the mechanism that would open it, and with a few twists, the door creaked open.
One of the guards, Saverio, cursed as he heard the sound. He drew his sword, peering into the darkness. "Merda! The door! Keep watch while I go look."
Amelia pressed a finger to her lips, signaling Ezio to follow. They moved like shadows, tracking the guard as he ventured further into the catacombs. With a swift movement, Ezio dispatched Saverio, his hidden blade flashing in the torchlight. The other guard, Ilario, panicked at the sight of his fallen companion and fled down the passage, his voice echoing as he swore to bring reinforcements.
"Stay here, I'll handle him," Ezio murmured to Amelia, already moving after the fleeing guard.
Amelia smirked, shaking her head. "I'll cover you. Try not to make too much noise."
Together, they chased Ilario through the darkened tunnels, their footsteps barely more than whispers on the stone. As they caught up to him, Ezio's blade struck true, silencing the man before he could raise the alarm. Amelia glanced down at the fallen guard, then back at Ezio, a flicker of admiration in her eyes.
"You're getting faster, Ezio," she remarked quietly. "I'm almost impressed."
Ezio shot her a sidelong look, a roguish grin pulling at his lips. "Keep up with me and maybe you'll see a few more surprises."
She shook her head but couldn't keep the smile from her face as they moved deeper into the crypt. They navigated a series of crumbling platforms, Ezio's athleticism and Amelia's grace carrying them across precarious ledges and swinging beams. The darkness pressed in around them, but they found a rhythm in their movements, each taking turns to clear the path ahead.
As they reached a higher platform, Amelia paused, glancing back over the shadowed expanse of the catacombs. The faint glow from the torches below cast eerie shadows, and a chill ran down her spine. "You ever think about how many secrets these old places hold? How many lives have passed through here, without anyone to remember them?"
Ezio paused beside her, following her gaze into the darkness. "I think about it, sì. But it's not the dead I worry about. It's the living who make things complicated."
She gave a soft laugh, a sound that echoed in the emptiness around them. "True. You always know how to keep things simple, Ezio."
He shrugged, his expression turning serious as he met her eyes. "Not everything needs to be complicated, Lia. Not when there are people worth fighting for."
Her breath hitched at the unexpected sincerity in his voice, and for a moment, the crypt and its shadows seemed far away. She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could find the words, Ezio gestured to the path ahead. "Come on. We're almost there."
Up ahead a Florentine guard that they had been following had vanished into these tunnels, slamming a gate shut behind him as he fled. He was a lead, potentially carrying vital information about the Templars' plans, and neither of them intended to let him slip away. Ezio scanned the iron bars that blocked their path, frustration creasing his brow.
"He's cornered, but he knows this place better than we do," he muttered, shaking his head.
Amelia's gaze swept the shadows, her keen eyes finding a crumbling section of scaffolding. "There—if we climb, we can bypass the gate. Come on, before he gets too far ahead."
Ezio nodded, following her up the makeshift ladder. The wood creaked beneath their weight, but they moved quickly, their movements synchronized from countless days spent honing their skills together. At the top, Amelia cast a brief, teasing glance over her shoulder.
"You sure you're not getting too old for this, Ezio?" she quipped, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.
He huffed a laugh as he caught up, a crooked grin on his face. "I'll keep up with you any day, Lia."
They reached a narrow ledge that ran along the wall, offering a precarious path forward. Amelia led the way, inching along the edge with careful steps. The stone was cold and slick beneath her boots, and the darkness below yawned like a hungry mouth. Halfway across, her foot suddenly slipped on a patch of loose gravel, and she gasped as her balance wavered. In an instant, Ezio's hand shot out, wrapping around her waist and pulling her back to safety. She clutched his arm, her heart racing from the near fall. His grip was strong, steady, and she could feel the warmth of him against the chill of the air.
"Careful, Amelia," he murmured, his voice low and uncharacteristically gentle.
"I'm not going anywhere, Ezio. I'm not about to let you have all the fun."She managed a shaky laugh, glancing up at him.
He smiled back at her, a flicker of something softer in his eyes before he released her. Without another word, they continued down the ledge, their focus shifting back to the chase. But the moment lingered between them, a reminder of the unspoken bond that had formed through their shared trials. The chase led them deeper into the labyrinth, the guard always just out of reach, slipping through shadowed corridors and closing heavy gates behind him. Finally, he disappeared through a large stone door, slamming it shut with a resounding thud.
Amelia spotted a scaffold leading upward to a small window near the top of the chamber. "Up again—he's running out of places to hide."
They climbed quickly, scaling the wall with the ease of seasoned thieves. As they reached the top, the passage opened into a circular chamber. The guard stood at the far end, flanked by a group of Templars armed to the teeth.
Amelia's hand went to the hilt of her blade, her eyes narrowing as she assessed the situation. "Looks like they brought friends."
Ezio unsheathed his sword with a swift motion, his expression hardening. "Let's see how friendly they really are."
The fight broke out in a flurry of steel and shadow. Amelia moved with deadly precision, her dagger flashing as she danced between the Templars' strikes. She blocked a heavy swing aimed at her side, driving her knee into her attacker's midsection before spinning to parry another strike. Her movements were fluid and efficient, each attack flowing seamlessly into the next.
A Templar wielding a mace swung at her with brutal force, but she ducked under the arc of the weapon, slipping inside his guard. With a quick twist, she buried her dagger in the gap between his armor plates, then spun away as he crumpled to the ground. Another soldier lunged at her, but she sidestepped his thrust, catching his arm and twisting it into a painful lock. She drove her elbow into his jaw, then finished him with a precise slash across the throat. As his body fell, she turned to face the remaining attackers, a determined glint in her eyes despite the shallow cut that stung her cheek.
Ezio fought beside her, his sword cutting through the air with swift, powerful strikes. He moved like a force of nature, countering every blow with a practiced ease. Together, they whittled down the Templars' numbers, their movements a deadly dance that kept them one step ahead of their enemies. Finally, the last of the Templars fell, and the chamber grew silent save for their ragged breaths. Ezio glanced at Amelia, catching sight of the cut on her cheek. "You're bleeding."
She wiped at the blood with a smirk, trying to ignore the sting. "It's nothing. Just a reminder that I'm still alive."
His expression softened as he watched her for a moment longer. "You're always too stubborn for your own good, Lia."
She raised an eyebrow, managing a breathless laugh. "Look who's talking."
As they turned a corner, the faint murmur of voices reached their ears. Amelia slowed, pressing a hand against the cool stone and nodding toward a vent nearby. "There," she whispered, pointing to the grate that allowed them to see into the chamber beyond. "We should be able to hear them from here."
Down the corridor they found a grate in the wall that gave way to a room where four or five men were found gathered around a table. Amelia's heart pounded in her chest as she crouched beside Ezio, the cold stone of the catacombs pressing against her back. The voices of the Templars echoed through the vent, carrying their cruel laughter and dark plans into the hidden space where she and Ezio listened. The familiar voice of Rodrigo Borgia cut through the air, and each word he spoke sent a shiver of anger and fear down her spine.
"Et benedictio Dei omnipotentis, Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti descendat super vos et maneat semper," the priest intoned, his voice carrying a low, ominous weight. Her mind barely registered the Latin prayers.
"Grazie, padre," Jacopo de' Pazzi said, his voice rough with age. He nodded toward a man beside him. "Bernardo?"
Bernardo Baroncelli stepped forward, gesturing toward a chest brimming with weapons. "It's all here. Swords. Staves. Axes. Armor. Bows. Our men will want for nothing."
Stefano da Bagnone, a thin man with a nervous demeanor, glanced at Rodrigo Borgia. "I take this gift to mean the Pope consents?"
Rodrigo's expression darkened, his lip curling in irritation. "He gave his blessing to the operation... 'as long as nobody is killed.'" His tone made it clear he found the condition laughable.
Ezio's fists tightened at his sides, but Amelia's hand squeezed his arm, a silent reminder to stay focused. She leaned closer to the grate, her gaze fixed on Rodrigo, her mind burning with questions.
Francesco de' Pazzi, his voice full of smug satisfaction, continued, "We're all set for the Duomo in the morning, Signore. The bait's been laid, but it wasn't easy. His fool brother keeps changing his plans..."
"Si!" Bernardo interjected, his enthusiasm plain. "We'll need to be on hand to make sure Giuliano even gets out of bed for church tomorrow!"
The Templars' laughter echoed through the chamber, a sound that made Amelia's stomach twist with disgust. She shot a look at Ezio, who glared down at their enemies with a simmering hatred. But she could see the worry in his eyes too—Giuliano de' Medici, a close ally, was in grave danger.
Below, Rodrigo Borgia's expression remained cold, but his eyes held a calculating glint as he turned to Jacopo. "What is it, Jacopo? Do you think they suspect something?"
The older man hesitated, glancing at Francesco with a furrowed brow. "Do not underestimate our enemies, Francesco. Or have you already forgotten how your son was murdered?"
Francesco's face twisted with rage, and he shot a glare at Jacopo. "We'll suffer no such surprises this time, Maestro. You have my word." He bowed his head, though the tension between the two men was palpable.
Rodrigo waved his hand dismissively. "Molto bene. I should be off. I've some other business to attend to before I return to Rome." His expression soured, a sneer curling his lips. "And to deal with certain... irritants that have eluded us. Giovanni Auditore, for one. He should have been dead months ago, and yet here we are." He paused, his tone turning venomous. "And that little whore Amelia. Her father was an easy target, but she has proven more troublesome. My son has orders to bring her in alive. I have... questions for her. I think she'll be more cooperative after a little persuasion."
Amelia's breath caught in her throat, a mixture of terror and fury twisting in her chest. The words cut through her like a blade, the crude cruelty of them stabbing deep into her mind. Her nails bit into her palms, the pain helping her focus as she fought to keep her breathing steady. Rodrigo's words echoed in her head, the way he dismissed her father's life, how he relished the idea of using her for whatever dark purpose he had in mind.
Why me? What could they possibly want from me? Questions swirled in her mind, tinged with fear she couldn't quite banish. The idea of being captured, of being at their mercy—it terrified her in a way she hadn't felt since the night she lost her father. Her fingers dug into the stone beneath her, a silent vow forming in her heart: they would not take her, not without a fight. She glanced at Ezio, finding him just as tense, his face twisted in anger as he listened to Rodrigo's plan to target Giuliano de' Medici. She could see the same turmoil in his eyes, the same rage and helplessness that she felt. Yet, beneath his fury, there was something else—something fierce and protective that reached out to her in that moment.
When he caught her gaze, his expression softened, and he shifted closer, lowering his voice to a whisper meant only for her. "They'll never have you, Amelia. I'll make sure of it. You have my word."
His words struck her like a warm rush of air, cutting through the cold grip of her fear. The sincerity in his voice was enough to break through the storm of thoughts in her mind. She felt a rush of gratitude swell in her chest. She swallowed hard, trying to keep her voice steady.
"Thank you, Ezio," she whispered back, the words almost breaking as they left her lips. She fought to keep the emotion from showing too much in her expression. "But you know I can take care of myself." A faint, lopsided smile touched his face, the kind that always seemed to bring a bit of light into their darkest moments.
"I don't doubt that for a second," he said, his voice gentler than she'd ever heard it, "but it doesn't mean I won't try." She held his gaze for a moment longer, letting the warmth of his promise steady her. They had been through so much already—fighting through battle after battle, uncovering secrets, gathering allies like Mario and the Medici. She thought of Leonardo and his unwavering kindness, of the way he'd thrown open the doors of his workshop to give them a safe haven. Amelia forced herself to focus on what mattered now. Rodrigo might have plans, but so did they. With Ezio, with their allies, they had a chance to fight back, to make the Templars pay for every life they'd taken. She took a deep breath, pushing back the fear, letting the warmth of her anger give her strength.
The sound of footsteps echoed through the halls, dragging her back to the present. She touched Ezio's shoulder, tugging at his sleeve to draw him away from the vent. "Come on," she whispered urgently, her voice steadier now, but still laced with the edges of her rage. "We need to move. There's no time to waste."
Ezio nodded, his determination mirrored in her own expression. Together, they melted back into the shadows, the Templars' words still ringing in their ears. The cold air of the catacombs swirled around them as they crept through the darkness, side by side. Amelia's heart still ached with the pain of loss, but for the first time in a long while, there was a small, fierce hope burning beside the anger.
They followed the stone path until it opened into a grand chamber. A richly decorated sarcophagus dominated the center, the symbol of the Assassins carved into its surface. Ancient torches cast a dim glow over the scene, revealing intricate symbols and designs etched into the surrounding walls.
Amelia ran her fingers over the markings, her brow furrowing with curiosity. "It's beautiful... and ancient. There's history here that stretches back centuries."
Ezio moved to the sarcophagus, sliding his hand over the lid with a reverence that was rare to see in him. "This must be one of the places our father spoke of... a piece of the past, hidden away beneath the city."
Amelia joined him, her gaze drifting over the cryptic symbols. "Do you think it holds answers about the codex pages? Or something more?"
Ezio hesitated, glancing at her as if weighing his words. "Whatever it holds, we'll face it together. No more secrets."
She looked up at him, caught off guard by the intensity in his gaze. The air between them seemed to shift, filled with something unspoken. But before she could respond, he turned back to the sarcophagus, sliding the lid open.
As the heavy stone shifted, a rush of cold air swept through the chamber, carrying the weight of centuries long past. Amelia stepped closer, her heart quickening as she peered inside. For a moment, the flickering torchlight revealed the faint outline of a figure carved into the stone—a hooded man, his features worn smooth by time, but the Assassin's mark still clear on his chest. They looted the area, grabbing all the florins and items that they could sell.
Once they were done rummaging through the area they found a ladder off to the left that took them to the surface where La Volpe was waiting for them.