Author's Note: I haven't posted much of anything lately. Given the fact I'm already going through psychological hell with all the shitty comments I've gotten. I decided to write this town as a way of trying to cope with whatever mental sanity I had left. Anyway, enjoy.
The night air sliced through Ezio Auditore like a cold blade as the ship glided toward Constantinople, cutting across a sea as smooth as polished obsidian. The rhythmic creaking of the hull echoed beneath his boots, but it did nothing to ease the heavy burden in his heart. He stood at the bow, the wind playing with the frayed edges of his hood as if trying to peel away the very identity he had fought to forge.
Ezio rubbed his stubbled jaw, rough fingers brushing his beard, but the exhaustion that clung to him remained stubbornly intact. In his pocket, the Masyaf Keys clinked softly with each roll of the ship—a tangible reminder of victories that felt increasingly hollow. Five keys, he thought bitterly. Five steps closer to a truth I no longer care to find.
The waves slapped against the hull below, but in his mind, he was haunted by the screams from Cappadocia. The fires, the choking smoke—most of the victims weren't Templars but merchants, mothers, children. Innocents.
"Stay your blade from the flesh of an innocent."
The first tenet. Broken.
Ezio's grip on the railing tightened, his knuckles going pale in the dim lantern light. The flames from the stockpile in Cappadocia burned in his memory—hundreds suffocated and consumed by smoke and fire. His assassination of Shahkulu had sparked chaos, but it was his reckless decision to detonate the stockpile that left the city in ruins. He had bartered their lives for one more Templar's death, but for what gain?
What kind of mentor sacrifices the very people he swore to protect?
He winced at the memory of Yusuf, his friend and fellow assassin, who had criticized his methods—the bombs, the riots, the reckless choices. Even Piri Reis had raised an eyebrow at the devastation trailing in his wake. "You are not subtle, Auditore." The words stung more now, echoing through the wreckage he had wrought. Every time he had chosen aggression over stealth, every bomb he had ignited, only deepened the wounds of his conscience.
And he knew this was not the first time.
"Hide in plain sight."
The second tenet. Broken.
The riot at the Arsenal in Constantinople had been his doing. It started as a calculated maneuver to draw attention away from his actions, but it spiraled into something far more sinister. The conflagration of the harbor fleet burned brightly against the night sky, and Greek Fire ignited, revealing not just the Templars but also exposing the Assassins to greater danger. With each reckless action, Ezio left a wake of chaos that was impossible to ignore.
He was supposed to be the Mentor of the Italian Brotherhood—the guiding light for a new generation. Yet his approach had been anything but subtle. In the shadows, he had nurtured his rage against the Templars, and in doing so, he had created enemies faster than he could eliminate them. Every action reverberated with consequences that put the Brotherhood at risk. Each victory he claimed felt more like a pyrrhic triumph, raising the stakes while making the Brotherhood vulnerable in ways no assassin should ever allow.
He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning his forehead against the cool wood of the ship. Perhaps his victories were not victories at all, but cleverly disguised failures. What kind of legacy was he building? One that would bring honor, or one that would lead to ruin?
"Never compromise the Brotherhood."
The third tenet. Broken.
Ezio exhaled slowly, his breath escaping like a prayer swallowed by the wind. His choices had not only endangered his life; they had put the entire Brotherhood at risk.
As the ship coursed through the water, a deep unease settled in his gut. The city he had fought for, the people he had saved and lost, all felt like distant memories now—ghosts that haunted his every thought. Would the Assassins even recognize him upon his return? The man they needed to lead them had become someone they could no longer trust.
What would they think when they saw him?
He envisioned the younger recruits, eyes wide with admiration, whispering tales of his legendary exploits against the Borgia, recounting how he had toppled empires. But the truth was that his legacy was stained, marred by the blood of innocents and the wreckage of their shared ideals. Would they see the hero, or would they see the monster he had become?
As he stood there, lost in thought, Hecatia Lapislazuli appeared before him, a burst of color amidst the shadows. Her three bodies shimmered with an otherworldly aura, each representing a different realm—Earth, the Moon, and the Otherworlds—while her playful demeanor belied the gravity of the situation.
"Ah, Ezio Auditore!" she exclaimed, her tone light and teasing, yet laced with an undercurrent of understanding. "Caught in a web of your own making, are we? The great Assassin, now a jaded wanderer lost at the crossroads. Tell me, what burdens weigh so heavily on your heart?"
Ezio looked at her, his expression a mix of bitterness and weariness. "What do you care, goddess? You don't know the weight of this life, the sacrifices it demands. I'm just another puppet, dancing to the tune of ideals that have turned to ash."
Hecatia's eyes sparkled with mischief, yet there was an edge of compassion in her voice. "Oh, but I do know something of burdens. After all, I exist at the crossroads of worlds—constantly navigating the delicate balance of power and freedom. But enough about me. You seek the Masyaf keys, yes? What do you hope to find behind that door? A chance at redemption? Or perhaps, just more questions?"
Ezio sighed, the weariness of years etched on his features. "I want to uncover the truth behind Altair's knowledge. I want to find something...anything that might make sense of this madness. But I doubt it will bring peace."
Hecatia leaned closer, her expression shifting to something more serious. "And what will you do when you find those answers? Will you use them to forge a new path, or will they only deepen your disillusionment?"
Her playful nature receded slightly, revealing a genuine concern for him. "You see, these keys may unlock secrets, but they won't shield you from the reality of your choices. They're not just relics of the past; they're mirrors reflecting the monster you fear you've become. Are you truly prepared to confront what lies within?"
Ezio clenched his jaw, the weight of her words resonating within him. "I'm tired, Hecatia. Tired of running and fighting. I just want... something meaningful amidst all this chaos."
Hecatia regarded him with a tilted head, her three bodies forming a playful but imposing presence around him. "Oh, my dear Ezio," she said, a teasing lilt to her voice. "Given how old you're getting, are you really ready to keep up this Assassin life? Or is it finally time to toss aside that heavy cloak of yours?"
Before he could muster a reply, she closed the distance between them, invading his personal space with an audacity that sent a shiver down his spine. "Come on, Ezio. What's the real reason you're still here? You're standing at a crossroads, pretending it's all about honor and legacy. But I can see it—deep down, you're just exhausted."
He shifted, uncomfortable under her intense gaze. "It's not that simple. I've sacrificed too much to just walk away. The Assassins are all I have left."
Hecatia raised an eyebrow, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "But are they? Or are they just a ghost haunting you, a weight dragging you down? You say they're all you have, but have you ever considered what you truly want? What if they've become a prison instead of a home?"
Ezio instinctively tightened his grip around the Masyaf key he had acquired, its cold metal pressing into his palm like a reminder of the burdens he carried. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "This key—it feels like it holds all the answers, but also all the questions. I thought if I could just open the door to Altair's library, I might find clarity. Maybe I could finally make sense of it all."
Hecatia raised an eyebrow, her expression shifting to one of mock seriousness as she leaned closer. "Ah, Altair. A man who devoted his entire life to the Assassins, chasing knowledge and ideals—only to die alone, as the echoes of his choices faded into silence." She leaned back, an almost playful smirk crossing her lips. "But I won't bore you with the details of that sad tale. Just know this: wisdom doesn't come without a price, and sometimes that price is the very life you've dedicated yourself to."
Ezio swallowed hard, her words casting a long shadow over his thoughts. "So, you're saying I might end up like him? Lost in my own ideals?"
"Lost, yes," Hecatia replied, her tone shifting, losing the lightness that had characterized their earlier exchange. "But not just lost—buried under the weight of your own arrogance. The Assassins pride themselves on their purpose, but what is that purpose worth if it leads you to a dead end? A world stained with blood? Or worse, a legacy built on the ashes of innocents?"
Ezio's heart sank at the truth of her words, their weight pressing down on him like the impending storm clouds that loomed in the distance. He had devoted himself to this life, sacrificed so much, yet now it felt like a noose tightening around his neck.
"You talk of choices, yet here I am, confronted with a decision that could change everything," he said, the frustration seeping into his voice. "What am I supposed to do? Abandon everything I've built, everything I've fought for?"
"Ah, the great Ezio Auditore, still clinging to the notion that sacrifice and bloodshed are the only paths to redemption," she retorted, her voice sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. "You stand on the precipice of truth, yet you hesitate, afraid to leap into the unknown. Why? Are you not the Master Assassin? Why let fear of failure dictate your choices?"
His fists clenched at his sides, the tension between them palpable. "It's not fear, Hecatia! It's doubt. Doubt about whether this path is worth walking anymore. I've fought so hard for a cause that feels increasingly corrupt. I've watched comrades fall and have caused so much pain."
"Pain is a part of the journey, Ezio," she shot back, her eyes blazing with intensity. "But you must recognize when the cost is too high. Are you willing to continue down this road, knowing it leads only to more suffering? The keys you seek may unlock not just doors but a reckoning. You must decide: do you want to continue this cycle of violence, or do you have the strength to step away from it all?"
Ezio felt as though the ground was shifting beneath him. The notion of stepping away from the Assassins felt like a betrayal, yet he couldn't shake the feeling that Hecatia was speaking truth. He had chased the ideals of freedom and justice, but had those ideals morphed into something darker? What if stepping away meant breaking the cycle of violence and finding a new purpose?
"But if I turn away," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, "what will become of the Brotherhood? The fight against the Templars? Will they continue their reign of terror without someone to stand against them?"
Hecatia regarded him, her gaze piercing. "You are not solely responsible for the fate of the Brotherhood, nor for the world. The Assassins have existed long before you, and they will continue to exist long after you are gone. Your life is not the centerpiece of this battle. Recognize that. Your choice must be for you, not for them. Are you prepared to find out what lies beyond those doors at Masyaf?"
Ezio straightened, a newfound determination igniting within him, yet doubt still lingered like a ghost at the edge of his mind. "What if I find answers I cannot face? What if the truth reveals that I have wasted my life on a lie?"
"Then face it, Ezio! Face the truth and decide who you want to be," Hecatia snapped, her voice firm, almost thunderous. "You have the chance to change your path, to break the chains of expectation that bind you to this life. But you must be willing to confront the truth, however uncomfortable it may be. The library at Masyaf holds knowledge, yes, but it also holds the potential for freedom—a freedom that comes from understanding yourself."
Ezio's heart raced. The thought of standing before the doors of the library, knowing that behind them lay revelations that could shatter his world, both excited and terrified him. What if the truths he uncovered challenged everything he had fought for? Would he have the courage to choose differently, to step away from the life of an Assassin, or would he cling to the past, bound by the chains of his own making?
"What if I choose to leave it all behind?" he asked, his voice steady, though the uncertainty remained.
"Then you must embrace that choice with all the weight of its implications," Hecatia replied, her tone growing softer, though still edged with urgency. "Choosing to leave the Assassins is not a sign of weakness; it can be an act of immense strength. A true Assassin is not defined solely by their title or their deeds. It's about who you are at your core, the values you hold dear. Whether you choose to stay or go, you must do so for yourself—not out of obligation or fear."
Ezio clenched his jaw, wrestling with the implications of her words. Could he really walk away from everything? The Brotherhood, the fights, the ideals? Could he find a new purpose outside of the life he had known?
"I've spent years believing that my path was defined by the Assassins, by the blood I shed and the enemies I defeated," he said slowly. "But maybe it's time to forge a new path. I want to find meaning beyond this life of shadows and blood."
Hecatia's smile returned, but it was not the playful smirk of before; it was genuine, a glimmer of pride shining in her eyes. "Then seize this moment, Ezio. The choice is yours alone, but it must be made with conviction. You may not find what you expect in Masyaf, but I promise, you will find what you truly need. Embrace the uncertainty. Embrace the freedom. That is the only way to step beyond the darkness."
Ezio inhaled deeply, the air heavy with the weight of his decision. The ship rocked gently beneath them, the sound of the sea echoing his own inner turmoil. He felt the fire of determination igniting in his chest—a flicker of hope amidst the suffocating shadows that had long since enveloped him.
"Then I will face what lies behind those doors," he declared, his voice firm. "I will not shy away from the truth, no matter how painful it may be."
Hecatia nodded, satisfaction glimmering in her gaze. "Good. Remember, Ezio, true wisdom is born from the acceptance of both light and shadow. You cannot escape your past, but you can shape your future. Embrace it."
As the ship continued its journey toward Constantinople, Ezio felt a sense of clarity beginning to emerge from the chaos within him. He would confront the darkness, not just of the world around him but also the darkness that had taken root in his soul. Whatever lay ahead, he would meet it head-on, armed with the knowledge that he was not defined by his past or his title.
He was Ezio Auditore, and his fate was his to choose.