Pontegana, Ticino, Switzerland – 1525 AD
Ezio ran. He ran and ran and ran as fast as he...
Ezio ran. He ran and ran and ran as fast as he...
On the Wings of an Eagle [Re-Write]
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Prologue
Pontegana, Ticino, Switzerland – 1525 AD
Ezio ran. He ran and ran and ran as fast as he possibly could, hoping his pursuers would lose him.
The chances for that were slim, unluckily. Ezio was not as fast as he used to be in his youth.
"STOP THAT MAN!" someone yelled behind him.
Ezio couldn't help but smile. Some things, however, never really changed.
The elderly Assassin quickly ran into a quiet side street between two buildings, breathing heavily all the while, his limbs and lungs on fire and hoping to get to the main gate of the Pontegana fortress without any trouble. Well, less trouble than he already was in now after killing the Templar Master in charge of the Ticino fortress. The night and his black cloak and armour helped to blend in with the darkness, confusing the castle's guards.
Ezio turned a corner and was suddenly faced the wall of the fortress. He swore violently. A dead end.
He turned around to see his pursuers coming to a slow halt a few steps from him. They were justifiably wary of coming any closer after seeing the easy manner in which he had killed several guards and the Master of the fortress himself.
A wise decision, but ultimately useless.
Ezio used their moment of hesitation, throwing a smoke bomb right at their feet. A cloud of black smog exploded at their feet, sending the armed men reeling and coughing, the acrid smoke burning their eyes into uselessness and clogging their lungs.
In another time, long ago, Ezio would have slaughtered all these men in mere moments before continuing his escape. Now, burdened with old age and lacking speed and strength, he could only flee in what he couldn't help but think was a cowardly manner.
Still, he fled by climbing up the fortress wall. Cowardly or not, Assassins fled with a certain panache.
As he neared the top of the rampart, a helmeted head peeked over its ledge, trying to take a look at the confusion below. One quick grab of the hooked blade in Ezio's gauntlet, and the crossbowman was sent tumbling down the side of the wall, screaming in terror. A sickening crunch ended the scream quite suddenly.
Ezio was already on top of the rampart by then, running along it to the nearest watch tower. Another guard tried to stop him, his throat getting slit with a quick twist of the hidden blade before he could scream out a warning. Ezio was already five steps further when the man collapsed in a bloody heap.
The guards stationed in the watch room of the tower had been playing a card game as the alarm sounded and just stared at Ezio as he suddenly broke into the room with a solid kick to the door. For a mere moment, guards and Assassin were in a silent standoff.
All that Ezio's pursuers saw and heard a moment later was a sudden explosion and flames licking at the stonework of the watch room's apertures from the inside, the bloodcurdling screams of the dying inside making them hesitate for a mere moment.
Hesitation was Ezio's friend. He was already gone when they dared to peek into the destroyed guard chamber and its mangled occupants, continuing to run on top of the wall towards his destination on the tower's other side.
Bells started ringing all over the fortress, adding to the cacophony of trampling boots, yelled curses and oaths, and barked orders. Ezio flitted through the night, grabbing a torch hanging on a wall and throwing it with practiced ease onto the roof of a nearby building below before racing on. The wood easily caught fire. The whinnies of terrified equines echoed piercingly through the night. Panicked screams ensued. "Water!" "Form a bucket line, bastardi, or the whole keep will go up in flames!" "Get the horses out, and then rein them in! They'll bolt!"
Apparently, he'd picked a stable as his target. Excellent.
Ezio kept pushing the confused guards that were milling about out of his way with quick shoves as he continued on the direct route to his goal. A few guards tried to stop him as they recognized him, but were either silenced by a blade to the gut or sent stumbling from the walls by the wicked grab of the hookblade.
Thank you, Yusuf, the Florentine Assassin thought warmly. You keep saving my life after all these years, even here.
Then Ezio saw his salvation and smiled. The fortress's outermost bastion, a large wall of thick stonework perched over a sheer precipice overseeing a river and the outlying forests, presumably where a large cannon had once stood to bombard approaching foes. Ezio kept running towards its very tip, with guards high at his heels, victory close.
"HALT, Assassin!" a loud voice roared.
Standing on the very rampart of the bastion over a drop of a few hundred feet into a river, Ezio nevertheless felt compelled by curiosity to obey. He turned around slowly, knowing that his black eagle-beaked hood would conceal his features from the torches carried by his pursuers. Making him appear even more terrifying and mysterious was just an added bonus.
Ezio came face to face with a large group of guards trying to encircle him on the bastion. The men themselves seemed to be various shades of angry, unsure, terrified and anxious, nervously hefting their swords, pikes, and arquebuses. They were led by a young man wearing rather fine clothes and a sword sheathed at his side, an arrogant expression on his face. A noble, no doubt.
Ezio couldn't help but be interested. This man had called out to him, knowing full well who—or rather what—he was. This should be interesting.
The man looked at him, his face red with fury and his voice quavering angrily. "You killed the Master."
Ezio didn't bother denying it, still standing on the lone rampart and staring, using the opportunity to get his laboured breath back after the lastest exertion of climbing the wall during his flight. An extremely nervous arquebusier hefted his firearm only to have the barrel roughly slapped down by the finely clothed man. The weapon went off with a loud crack of gunpowder, badly startling the guards as a rampart close to Ezio exploded into shards of stone.
"No!" the man hissed angrily at his quivering subordinate as the Assassin watched calmly. "We need him alive! Or at least recover his body!"
Ezio smirked slightly as he realized what the Templar's trouble was. So that is what he's after. How predictable.
The man turned to the robed Assassin. "I honestly don't care whether you killed the old fart or not," the man sneered. "I thought of doing him in myself, but you beat me to the punch. However, you stole something from this castle that is not yours to keep."
He made a wide sweeping motion with one arm, indicating his men. "We have you cornered, and there is no escape except a drop to certain death in the river below, or certain death at the hands of my men!"
A sly smile. "I'm quite willing to let bygones be bygones, though – if you do something for me." He arrogantly held out an open hand, utterly confident in his perceived superiority. "Hand over the Apple now, and I will let you live."
Ezio chuckled, a quiet sound that was yet easily heard by the nervous guards. "'It's not yours to keep', you said?" He spoke in a quiet voice, its tone rough and tired, but nonetheless distinctly amused. "It is mine by right of conquest. I fought your Master for it and I won, taking it from his dead hands as his blood pooled on the floor of his chambers."
A wicked grin became visible under his hood, unnerving the already rattled guards. "If you want it returned, you should be prepared to take the same risks. It's only fair, wouldn't you agree?"
The man drew his sword, a look of murder in his eyes. "I will fight you for it, Assassin. Make no mistake. And then I will hunt down the rest of your ilk, your children, your family, your friends, and destroy them and everything else you hold dear."
"Are you, now? Then what exactly are you waiting for? I could probably find me a woman or two to give me company in the time you've prattled on," Ezio taunted. "The Templars are rather known these days for making asinine speeches instead of fighting, as real men ought to! Or at least that's what your mother said when I visited her last night, cane!"
The crude but simple taunt worked well on the proud young man. Far too well. The Templar roared in anger and stormed towards Ezio at a speed that surprised the old Assassin, expecting the noble to be far slower and out of shape. The man leapt at him with his sword set to stab Ezio through the chest, leaving the Florentine little space to dodge.
The sounds of blades tearing flesh were heard in the sudden silence. Ezio's breath left him in a sudden gasp of pain as he registered the sword stabbed through a gap of his breastplate into his chest – he had only been able to move a few centimetres to the side before metal hit flesh. Not far enough. Age had slowed down his reflexes too much.
Some of them, but not all.
The Templar stared with fury at Ezio, his throat making gargling sounds as he tried to speak. The hidden blade spearing his throat made it impossible, his blood flowing freely over Ezio's gauntleted hand.
Ezio smiled wanly. "Looks like we'll die together, then." He moved the blade sideways, blood spurting forth in a wide arc as the Templar was half decapitated, killing him instantly. "Requiescat en pace."
And then both toppled from the ramparts, Ezio falling backwards into darkness and hoping that his faith would be enough to save him.
In another world, similar to the one Ezio knew and yet different, a young girl was kneeling in front of an altar in a small chapel, bathed in the light falling through a window whose frame was shaped like a sword, throwing the shadow across her face.
She was praying with her hands folded and her eyes closed. She was considered nobility, chosen amongst her people for her gifts and power, unafraid to rule and fight with the power that God, His Founder, and His Saints had granted her.
But she was still young. And she was afraid.
Ezio stumbled through the dark woods, water dripping from his soaked robes. He'd done it. He'd actually done it. He had fallen wounded into a river from a sheer drop of several hundred feet, survived, and then dragged himself through the forest, unseen and unhindered by any pursuers. He'd done it.
Behind him, Pontegana burned, the fortress a flaming torch in the otherwise dark night.
Ezio tripped on a low branch in the darkness, his mind going blank with pain for a moment as coughs shook him, loud racking sounds that couldn't possibly be healthy. When Ezio took a look at his gauntleted hand in the moonlight, he saw that the leather and armour had been stained by a dark black liquid, one that Ezio knew would have been dark red if he'd seen it by the light of day.
Well, he may have escaped unhindered, but evidently not uninjured.
Ezio tried to wipe his hand clean on his robes, but it proved futile – the dark robes and armour of the ancient Mentor of the Hashishim were already stained with blood. Lightheaded, Ezio realized that the Templar had managed to drive his sword into a small unprotected gap in the side of the indestructible armour – whether by luck or design, he couldn't tell.
The old Assassin cursed his arrogance as he continued to walk slowly through the dark woods. He'd been a fool to take up the Templar's challenge. Why didn't he just jump off the cliff in the confusion and flee, like he originally planned to? Why didn't he!
Pride, he realized with sudden clarity.
He snorted humourlessly, his every breath hurting. Ezio thought he had lost that a long time ago. How foolish of him.
After a while – Ezio couldn't tell how long, he simply dragged himself through the dark forest, his mind clouded by pain and blood loss – he reached the clearing where he'd tethered his horse to a tree. A quick use of his gifts to scan the environs came up with nothing but the horse's silhouette. He hadn't been followed.
He looked through the trees behind him, and saw the flickering torch in the dark landscape that Pontegana had become. Ezio smirked, finding a little humour where none ought to be. Presumably, the Templars were still busy dousing their fortress. Even the rain that was starting to fall now wouldn't help them to save it from the raging inferno he had engulfed it in.
He continued on his staggering way through the clearing. The horse, borrowed from a friend in Milano and tethered to a tree, whinnied softly in fear as it smelled the blood on his robes. Ezio blacked out for a moment as he approached, managed to catch himself around the horse's neck before he crashed to the ground. He patted the horse's neck slowly as it threatened to bolt in a panic. "Shh, amica, it's alright, we're safe, everything is fine..."
Ezio honestly had no idea why he was trying to talk to a horse. Perhaps he was trying to reassure himself?
...No matter. It worked; the scared animal was calming down. Ezio patted the horse's head weakly once more before taking stock.
He examined his robes and armour. They were soaked with blood, the water of the river and the rain doing nothing to wash out the dark fluid. And most of it still isn't mine, Ezio thought with another touch of dark humour. Mario would have approved.
Another bout of pain from his wound lanced through his side, and Ezio grasped his open wound. His vision went dark, and he collapsed bonelessly against the tree trunk he'd tethered the horse to, his mind nearly blacking out as he crashed into an undignified heap of dark robes and even darker blood. He felt as if a heavy stone had been set into his lung, every breath requiring effort and lancing pain through his entire body.
He tried to think to think of other things, anything to take his mind off the torture he felt. Faces and voices swam through his mind, some alive, some dead, some of them family, others lovers, all friends, all of them offering comfort.
Images of a mansion in long forgotten times. Laughter, smiles, and feathers.
Papa... Mama... Federico... Pettrucchio... Claudia...
Other images. Bonfires over canals, the skyline of an Italian city, the walls of an old fortress.
Christina... Rosa... Caterina...
Vineyards, the sun shining on the hills. A smiling woman picking flowers for the dinner table, an old man teaching his son to climb the side of his pastel-white mansion as both laugh and joke. A girl giggling as her mother puts a spare flower in her hair, both amused by the antics of the men in their life. A student watching from the sidelines, trying to hide her endeared smile and failing, reaching out to help up her mentor as he tumbles to the floor after roughousing too much with his son.
Sofía... Flavia... Marcello... Jun…
The pain subsided slowly, now only a dull ache instead of the lancing suffering that it had been just before. Ezio noticed that his hand was clenched over his wounded side tightly, blood still spilling forth between closed fingers. His body was shaken by spasms, and he took a deep, belaboured, painful breath, forcing himself to relax.
Again, he looked at the blood on his hands. Could he treat this injury? He'd done it before, after all, but only on others... And even then, not all had survived. Could he really treat a wound this deep?
...He'd try, he'd always try, he'd never give up, but what was the point?
Something nudged his cowl and he felt the huff of a warm breath on his face. Ezio looked up weakly. The horse had approached carefully, nudging his own cowled head hesitantly with its soft muzzle.
With a draining effort, Ezio's hidden blade shot out of its bracer, two quick slashes severing the bridle and straps of the saddle, the leathery contraption falling to the ground with a heavy thud. The blade retracted, and the horse shook its head, cantering once or twice, unsure.
Ezio used his now free hand to pat the horse's head affectionately. "Go now, mía amica," the old man whispered. "I am sorry for never learning your name, but you have my thanks. Return to your master in Milano. I have no more need for you, and you no longer have need for me."
No one does, now.
Ezio's weakening hand dropped, and he closed his eyes, trying to collect himself and accept the darkness that would be coming soon. A moment later, he felt something nudging his cowl again, hearing a quiet whinny as warm, damp breath engulfed him, keeping the growing cold at bay.
He smiled warmly. "Not abandoning me, are you? Benedetto really is a genius. I'll have to thank him for breeding such faithful companions..."
Ezio closed his eyes, relaxing and listening to the falling rain.
Just rest for a moment...
His eyes snapped open as he heard a low buzzing sound, repeating itself continuously, quiet but insistent.
I nearly forgot about that thing...
Ezio fumbled inside a pouch on his belt, retrieving the object he'd stormed the Templar fortress for. The object he'd killed and been killed for, a fact he could now resignedly accept.
He hefted the large round object in his hand, its weight heavy and reassuring. Lights played along the veins in its surface, pulsing like a beating heart, changing colour every other moment, the only light in the darkness of the night.
Another Apple of Eden, saved from the clutches of greedy Templars.
As his vision began to swim and darken, Ezio watched the Apple, fascinated as the colours on its surface began to change at even quicker intervals; changing fast, fast, fast–
And then flashing brightly once.
So yeah. This was the first story I ever wrote. Feels so long ago. Remembering those days and nights, I can't help but smile. I was so very young.
We all grow older and busier, unfortunately, and as time went on, I got stuck on how to continue it. Or rather, my muse left me and has until now refused to come home, and so my first story has been left in the limbo of artlessness and real life for well over a year or more now.
So I idly wondered whether I should re-write and re-publish it on my newest and favourite haunt, SV, to get some new feedback and commentary. And since I hope I actually got better as a writer during the years since I wrote this, I worked on this one until I liked it a bit more.
Shout-out to @shadenight123, who was the third person ever to review this and sincerely contributed to me being encouraged to continue writing fanfic, and has been a faithful friend and voice of reason ever since. He also convinced me to start this up today, so technically he is the one to blame for all this.
Also shouts-out to @IntoLight and @defenestrator, whose ever-cheerful encouragement also contributed to this re-write happening.
Gonna go to sleep now. Remember, my muse lives off reviews, feedback, and comments! Don't leave the poor lady hanging.
Ezio ran. He ran and ran and ran as fast as he possibly could, hoping his pursuers would lose him.
The chances for that were slim, unluckily. Ezio was not as fast as he used to be in his youth.
"STOP THAT MAN!" someone yelled behind him.
Ezio couldn't help but smile. Some things, however, never really changed.
The elderly Assassin quickly ran into a quiet side street between two buildings, breathing heavily all the while, his limbs and lungs on fire and hoping to get to the main gate of the Pontegana fortress without any trouble. Well, less trouble than he already was in now after killing the Templar Master in charge of the Ticino fortress. The night and his black cloak and armour helped to blend in with the darkness, confusing the castle's guards.
Ezio turned a corner and was suddenly faced the wall of the fortress. He swore violently. A dead end.
He turned around to see his pursuers coming to a slow halt a few steps from him. They were justifiably wary of coming any closer after seeing the easy manner in which he had killed several guards and the Master of the fortress himself.
A wise decision, but ultimately useless.
Ezio used their moment of hesitation, throwing a smoke bomb right at their feet. A cloud of black smog exploded at their feet, sending the armed men reeling and coughing, the acrid smoke burning their eyes into uselessness and clogging their lungs.
In another time, long ago, Ezio would have slaughtered all these men in mere moments before continuing his escape. Now, burdened with old age and lacking speed and strength, he could only flee in what he couldn't help but think was a cowardly manner.
Still, he fled by climbing up the fortress wall. Cowardly or not, Assassins fled with a certain panache.
As he neared the top of the rampart, a helmeted head peeked over its ledge, trying to take a look at the confusion below. One quick grab of the hooked blade in Ezio's gauntlet, and the crossbowman was sent tumbling down the side of the wall, screaming in terror. A sickening crunch ended the scream quite suddenly.
Ezio was already on top of the rampart by then, running along it to the nearest watch tower. Another guard tried to stop him, his throat getting slit with a quick twist of the hidden blade before he could scream out a warning. Ezio was already five steps further when the man collapsed in a bloody heap.
The guards stationed in the watch room of the tower had been playing a card game as the alarm sounded and just stared at Ezio as he suddenly broke into the room with a solid kick to the door. For a mere moment, guards and Assassin were in a silent standoff.
All that Ezio's pursuers saw and heard a moment later was a sudden explosion and flames licking at the stonework of the watch room's apertures from the inside, the bloodcurdling screams of the dying inside making them hesitate for a mere moment.
Hesitation was Ezio's friend. He was already gone when they dared to peek into the destroyed guard chamber and its mangled occupants, continuing to run on top of the wall towards his destination on the tower's other side.
Bells started ringing all over the fortress, adding to the cacophony of trampling boots, yelled curses and oaths, and barked orders. Ezio flitted through the night, grabbing a torch hanging on a wall and throwing it with practiced ease onto the roof of a nearby building below before racing on. The wood easily caught fire. The whinnies of terrified equines echoed piercingly through the night. Panicked screams ensued. "Water!" "Form a bucket line, bastardi, or the whole keep will go up in flames!" "Get the horses out, and then rein them in! They'll bolt!"
Apparently, he'd picked a stable as his target. Excellent.
Ezio kept pushing the confused guards that were milling about out of his way with quick shoves as he continued on the direct route to his goal. A few guards tried to stop him as they recognized him, but were either silenced by a blade to the gut or sent stumbling from the walls by the wicked grab of the hookblade.
Thank you, Yusuf, the Florentine Assassin thought warmly. You keep saving my life after all these years, even here.
Then Ezio saw his salvation and smiled. The fortress's outermost bastion, a large wall of thick stonework perched over a sheer precipice overseeing a river and the outlying forests, presumably where a large cannon had once stood to bombard approaching foes. Ezio kept running towards its very tip, with guards high at his heels, victory close.
"HALT, Assassin!" a loud voice roared.
Standing on the very rampart of the bastion over a drop of a few hundred feet into a river, Ezio nevertheless felt compelled by curiosity to obey. He turned around slowly, knowing that his black eagle-beaked hood would conceal his features from the torches carried by his pursuers. Making him appear even more terrifying and mysterious was just an added bonus.
Ezio came face to face with a large group of guards trying to encircle him on the bastion. The men themselves seemed to be various shades of angry, unsure, terrified and anxious, nervously hefting their swords, pikes, and arquebuses. They were led by a young man wearing rather fine clothes and a sword sheathed at his side, an arrogant expression on his face. A noble, no doubt.
Ezio couldn't help but be interested. This man had called out to him, knowing full well who—or rather what—he was. This should be interesting.
The man looked at him, his face red with fury and his voice quavering angrily. "You killed the Master."
Ezio didn't bother denying it, still standing on the lone rampart and staring, using the opportunity to get his laboured breath back after the lastest exertion of climbing the wall during his flight. An extremely nervous arquebusier hefted his firearm only to have the barrel roughly slapped down by the finely clothed man. The weapon went off with a loud crack of gunpowder, badly startling the guards as a rampart close to Ezio exploded into shards of stone.
"No!" the man hissed angrily at his quivering subordinate as the Assassin watched calmly. "We need him alive! Or at least recover his body!"
Ezio smirked slightly as he realized what the Templar's trouble was. So that is what he's after. How predictable.
The man turned to the robed Assassin. "I honestly don't care whether you killed the old fart or not," the man sneered. "I thought of doing him in myself, but you beat me to the punch. However, you stole something from this castle that is not yours to keep."
He made a wide sweeping motion with one arm, indicating his men. "We have you cornered, and there is no escape except a drop to certain death in the river below, or certain death at the hands of my men!"
A sly smile. "I'm quite willing to let bygones be bygones, though – if you do something for me." He arrogantly held out an open hand, utterly confident in his perceived superiority. "Hand over the Apple now, and I will let you live."
Ezio chuckled, a quiet sound that was yet easily heard by the nervous guards. "'It's not yours to keep', you said?" He spoke in a quiet voice, its tone rough and tired, but nonetheless distinctly amused. "It is mine by right of conquest. I fought your Master for it and I won, taking it from his dead hands as his blood pooled on the floor of his chambers."
A wicked grin became visible under his hood, unnerving the already rattled guards. "If you want it returned, you should be prepared to take the same risks. It's only fair, wouldn't you agree?"
The man drew his sword, a look of murder in his eyes. "I will fight you for it, Assassin. Make no mistake. And then I will hunt down the rest of your ilk, your children, your family, your friends, and destroy them and everything else you hold dear."
"Are you, now? Then what exactly are you waiting for? I could probably find me a woman or two to give me company in the time you've prattled on," Ezio taunted. "The Templars are rather known these days for making asinine speeches instead of fighting, as real men ought to! Or at least that's what your mother said when I visited her last night, cane!"
The crude but simple taunt worked well on the proud young man. Far too well. The Templar roared in anger and stormed towards Ezio at a speed that surprised the old Assassin, expecting the noble to be far slower and out of shape. The man leapt at him with his sword set to stab Ezio through the chest, leaving the Florentine little space to dodge.
The sounds of blades tearing flesh were heard in the sudden silence. Ezio's breath left him in a sudden gasp of pain as he registered the sword stabbed through a gap of his breastplate into his chest – he had only been able to move a few centimetres to the side before metal hit flesh. Not far enough. Age had slowed down his reflexes too much.
Some of them, but not all.
The Templar stared with fury at Ezio, his throat making gargling sounds as he tried to speak. The hidden blade spearing his throat made it impossible, his blood flowing freely over Ezio's gauntleted hand.
Ezio smiled wanly. "Looks like we'll die together, then." He moved the blade sideways, blood spurting forth in a wide arc as the Templar was half decapitated, killing him instantly. "Requiescat en pace."
And then both toppled from the ramparts, Ezio falling backwards into darkness and hoping that his faith would be enough to save him.
Λ Λ Λ Λ Λ
In another world, similar to the one Ezio knew and yet different, a young girl was kneeling in front of an altar in a small chapel, bathed in the light falling through a window whose frame was shaped like a sword, throwing the shadow across her face.
She was praying with her hands folded and her eyes closed. She was considered nobility, chosen amongst her people for her gifts and power, unafraid to rule and fight with the power that God, His Founder, and His Saints had granted her.
But she was still young. And she was afraid.
Λ Λ Λ Λ Λ
Ezio stumbled through the dark woods, water dripping from his soaked robes. He'd done it. He'd actually done it. He had fallen wounded into a river from a sheer drop of several hundred feet, survived, and then dragged himself through the forest, unseen and unhindered by any pursuers. He'd done it.
Behind him, Pontegana burned, the fortress a flaming torch in the otherwise dark night.
Ezio tripped on a low branch in the darkness, his mind going blank with pain for a moment as coughs shook him, loud racking sounds that couldn't possibly be healthy. When Ezio took a look at his gauntleted hand in the moonlight, he saw that the leather and armour had been stained by a dark black liquid, one that Ezio knew would have been dark red if he'd seen it by the light of day.
Well, he may have escaped unhindered, but evidently not uninjured.
Ezio tried to wipe his hand clean on his robes, but it proved futile – the dark robes and armour of the ancient Mentor of the Hashishim were already stained with blood. Lightheaded, Ezio realized that the Templar had managed to drive his sword into a small unprotected gap in the side of the indestructible armour – whether by luck or design, he couldn't tell.
The old Assassin cursed his arrogance as he continued to walk slowly through the dark woods. He'd been a fool to take up the Templar's challenge. Why didn't he just jump off the cliff in the confusion and flee, like he originally planned to? Why didn't he!
Pride, he realized with sudden clarity.
He snorted humourlessly, his every breath hurting. Ezio thought he had lost that a long time ago. How foolish of him.
After a while – Ezio couldn't tell how long, he simply dragged himself through the dark forest, his mind clouded by pain and blood loss – he reached the clearing where he'd tethered his horse to a tree. A quick use of his gifts to scan the environs came up with nothing but the horse's silhouette. He hadn't been followed.
He looked through the trees behind him, and saw the flickering torch in the dark landscape that Pontegana had become. Ezio smirked, finding a little humour where none ought to be. Presumably, the Templars were still busy dousing their fortress. Even the rain that was starting to fall now wouldn't help them to save it from the raging inferno he had engulfed it in.
He continued on his staggering way through the clearing. The horse, borrowed from a friend in Milano and tethered to a tree, whinnied softly in fear as it smelled the blood on his robes. Ezio blacked out for a moment as he approached, managed to catch himself around the horse's neck before he crashed to the ground. He patted the horse's neck slowly as it threatened to bolt in a panic. "Shh, amica, it's alright, we're safe, everything is fine..."
Ezio honestly had no idea why he was trying to talk to a horse. Perhaps he was trying to reassure himself?
...No matter. It worked; the scared animal was calming down. Ezio patted the horse's head weakly once more before taking stock.
He examined his robes and armour. They were soaked with blood, the water of the river and the rain doing nothing to wash out the dark fluid. And most of it still isn't mine, Ezio thought with another touch of dark humour. Mario would have approved.
Another bout of pain from his wound lanced through his side, and Ezio grasped his open wound. His vision went dark, and he collapsed bonelessly against the tree trunk he'd tethered the horse to, his mind nearly blacking out as he crashed into an undignified heap of dark robes and even darker blood. He felt as if a heavy stone had been set into his lung, every breath requiring effort and lancing pain through his entire body.
He tried to think to think of other things, anything to take his mind off the torture he felt. Faces and voices swam through his mind, some alive, some dead, some of them family, others lovers, all friends, all of them offering comfort.
Images of a mansion in long forgotten times. Laughter, smiles, and feathers.
Papa... Mama... Federico... Pettrucchio... Claudia...
Other images. Bonfires over canals, the skyline of an Italian city, the walls of an old fortress.
Christina... Rosa... Caterina...
Vineyards, the sun shining on the hills. A smiling woman picking flowers for the dinner table, an old man teaching his son to climb the side of his pastel-white mansion as both laugh and joke. A girl giggling as her mother puts a spare flower in her hair, both amused by the antics of the men in their life. A student watching from the sidelines, trying to hide her endeared smile and failing, reaching out to help up her mentor as he tumbles to the floor after roughousing too much with his son.
Sofía... Flavia... Marcello... Jun…
The pain subsided slowly, now only a dull ache instead of the lancing suffering that it had been just before. Ezio noticed that his hand was clenched over his wounded side tightly, blood still spilling forth between closed fingers. His body was shaken by spasms, and he took a deep, belaboured, painful breath, forcing himself to relax.
Again, he looked at the blood on his hands. Could he treat this injury? He'd done it before, after all, but only on others... And even then, not all had survived. Could he really treat a wound this deep?
...He'd try, he'd always try, he'd never give up, but what was the point?
Something nudged his cowl and he felt the huff of a warm breath on his face. Ezio looked up weakly. The horse had approached carefully, nudging his own cowled head hesitantly with its soft muzzle.
With a draining effort, Ezio's hidden blade shot out of its bracer, two quick slashes severing the bridle and straps of the saddle, the leathery contraption falling to the ground with a heavy thud. The blade retracted, and the horse shook its head, cantering once or twice, unsure.
Ezio used his now free hand to pat the horse's head affectionately. "Go now, mía amica," the old man whispered. "I am sorry for never learning your name, but you have my thanks. Return to your master in Milano. I have no more need for you, and you no longer have need for me."
No one does, now.
Ezio's weakening hand dropped, and he closed his eyes, trying to collect himself and accept the darkness that would be coming soon. A moment later, he felt something nudging his cowl again, hearing a quiet whinny as warm, damp breath engulfed him, keeping the growing cold at bay.
He smiled warmly. "Not abandoning me, are you? Benedetto really is a genius. I'll have to thank him for breeding such faithful companions..."
Ezio closed his eyes, relaxing and listening to the falling rain.
Just rest for a moment...
His eyes snapped open as he heard a low buzzing sound, repeating itself continuously, quiet but insistent.
I nearly forgot about that thing...
Ezio fumbled inside a pouch on his belt, retrieving the object he'd stormed the Templar fortress for. The object he'd killed and been killed for, a fact he could now resignedly accept.
He hefted the large round object in his hand, its weight heavy and reassuring. Lights played along the veins in its surface, pulsing like a beating heart, changing colour every other moment, the only light in the darkness of the night.
Another Apple of Eden, saved from the clutches of greedy Templars.
As his vision began to swim and darken, Ezio watched the Apple, fascinated as the colours on its surface began to change at even quicker intervals; changing fast, fast, fast–
And then flashing brightly once.
Λ Λ Λ Λ Λ
On the Wings of an Eagle
An Assassin's Creed/Familiar of Zero Crossover Fanfiction
Now To Be Re-Written and Re-Posted on SV
Λ Λ Λ Λ Λ
On the Wings of an Eagle
An Assassin's Creed/Familiar of Zero Crossover Fanfiction
Now To Be Re-Written and Re-Posted on SV
Λ Λ Λ Λ Λ
The original light novels of Familiar of Zero (Zero no Tsukaima) were written by Noboru Yamaguchi and originally published by Media Factory in 2004. It includes twenty volumes, a four-season anime adaptation by J.C. Staff that premiered in 2006, a manga published by Media Factory published between 2010 and 2013, and a single-season anime adaptation by J.C. Staff that premiered in 2012.
Noboru Yamaguchi succumbed to cancer on the 4th April 2013 after a brave two-year struggle against cancer. Rest in peace, sensei. You will be remembered fondly.
The original video game Assassin's Creed was originally released in 2007 by Ubisoft, followed by its sequels Assassin's Creed II (2009), Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood (2010), and Assassin's Creed: Revelations (2011), Assassin's Creed III (2012), Assassin's Creed IV: Black Flag (2013), Assassin's Creed Rogue (2014), Assassin's Creed Unity (2014), and Assassin's Creed Syndicate (2015). Not included, but acknowledged, is published side material like comics and mobile games.
Profit is neither made, demanded, nor desired from this fanfiction project, and is intended as a transformative interpretation of the original works. The content therein does not represent the views of the copyright holders, and will be voluntarily removed on their demand.
Please support the official release, and be kind enough to leave a review.
Noboru Yamaguchi succumbed to cancer on the 4th April 2013 after a brave two-year struggle against cancer. Rest in peace, sensei. You will be remembered fondly.
The original video game Assassin's Creed was originally released in 2007 by Ubisoft, followed by its sequels Assassin's Creed II (2009), Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood (2010), and Assassin's Creed: Revelations (2011), Assassin's Creed III (2012), Assassin's Creed IV: Black Flag (2013), Assassin's Creed Rogue (2014), Assassin's Creed Unity (2014), and Assassin's Creed Syndicate (2015). Not included, but acknowledged, is published side material like comics and mobile games.
Profit is neither made, demanded, nor desired from this fanfiction project, and is intended as a transformative interpretation of the original works. The content therein does not represent the views of the copyright holders, and will be voluntarily removed on their demand.
Please support the official release, and be kind enough to leave a review.
Λ Λ Λ Λ Λ
So yeah. This was the first story I ever wrote. Feels so long ago. Remembering those days and nights, I can't help but smile. I was so very young.
We all grow older and busier, unfortunately, and as time went on, I got stuck on how to continue it. Or rather, my muse left me and has until now refused to come home, and so my first story has been left in the limbo of artlessness and real life for well over a year or more now.
So I idly wondered whether I should re-write and re-publish it on my newest and favourite haunt, SV, to get some new feedback and commentary. And since I hope I actually got better as a writer during the years since I wrote this, I worked on this one until I liked it a bit more.
Shout-out to @shadenight123, who was the third person ever to review this and sincerely contributed to me being encouraged to continue writing fanfic, and has been a faithful friend and voice of reason ever since. He also convinced me to start this up today, so technically he is the one to blame for all this.
Also shouts-out to @IntoLight and @defenestrator, whose ever-cheerful encouragement also contributed to this re-write happening.
Gonna go to sleep now. Remember, my muse lives off reviews, feedback, and comments! Don't leave the poor lady hanging.
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- Location
- https://discord.gg/z9tBvbh
Excellent. So it begins.
Let us see what time shall bring, shall we?
I will be watching.
Let us see what time shall bring, shall we?
I will be watching.
Oh fuck yes. I've been waiting for more of this for so goddamn long it feels like an eternity. You rock.
- Location
- Wall Gazing
But my birthday isn't for another six months!
Guardsman_Sparky
The Clueless Wonder
- Location
- Virginia
YES! MOAR!
Generic_Generica
Notice me Senpai~
- Location
- Right behind you
Waaaaait a second. You were the one who wrote that Assassin's Creed/FoZ cross?!
Fernandel! FEERRRRNANDEL! How did I not know this before?!
Watched. Watched with the force of ten thousand suns. Shut up and take my money already.
Fernandel! FEERRRRNANDEL! How did I not know this before?!
Watched. Watched with the force of ten thousand suns. Shut up and take my money already.
AnonymousRabbit
Rabbit Faced
I read this in Highschool! (which was a year ago) But damn I loved this! Will you be re-publishing in FF.net?
Wait, are you actually trying to tell me that this story is known in some way?
I wrote this years ago! I haven't updated it in frickin' years!
How the hell do you people still remember this story?
(Legit tearing up a little bit here at my keyboard. Thank you for all your nice comments. I thought only a few people had remembered this first story of mine after so long, but it seems I was wrong.)
I wrote this years ago! I haven't updated it in frickin' years!
How the hell do you people still remember this story?
(Legit tearing up a little bit here at my keyboard. Thank you for all your nice comments. I thought only a few people had remembered this first story of mine after so long, but it seems I was wrong.)
Darkgenerallord
Makes shitty respect threads
- Location
- California
Dude, I read this a few months ago. I was actually really sad that it was dead, and I even checked your fanfiction account to see if you were still alive.
StriderAnarchy9
The KKV Your KKV Could Be Like
- Location
- Louisiana
Man, I kept checking the story back on ffnet hoping it would update whenever I was in a FOZ mood. I was really surprised to see it here. Have a like and watched.
I found it on the TVTropes Fanfic Recs page. I'd say that counts as "known."Wait, are you actually trying to tell me that this story is known in some way?
I wrote this years ago! I haven't updated it in frickin' years!
How the hell do you people still remember this story?
*Unmanly Squee-ing Noises*
- Location
- Los Angeles
Wait, are you actually trying to tell me that this story is known in some way?
I wrote this years ago! I haven't updated it in frickin' years!
How the hell do you people still remember this story?
(Legit tearing up a little bit here at my keyboard. Thank you for all your nice comments. I thought only a few people had remembered this first story of mine after so long, but it seems I was wrong.)
Well if you really want to know...
I'm sure you know this, but when sorting through the mess that is fanfiction.net, it is often convenient to sort by # of reviews. It isn't 100% reliable, but it definitely helps find better than average fics. That's how I first found your fic. And honestly? Your's was definitely one of the best ZNT crossovers on FFnet.
I'm sad it's a rewrite, but it's great that you decided to start writing again. Watched.
Edit: Someone should post a link to this on SB's FOZ thread, I'm sure people there will want to know!
Edit 2: Just went ahead and did it myself.
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Whiskey Golf
Being of Editing & Technical Assistance
- Location
- Chained to my desk
'Tis a joyous day indeed. ^_^
- Location
- United States
This remains one of my favorite for fics.
So many insert someone in their teens or twenties who act like they have something to prove and so do really stupid things.
Ezio on the other hand has lived his life and knows who he is and isn't afraid to be himself.
So many insert someone in their teens or twenties who act like they have something to prove and so do really stupid things.
Ezio on the other hand has lived his life and knows who he is and isn't afraid to be himself.
