Assassin's Creed Chronos_Retribution (Ezio x OC)

18 - Writing's On the Wall

May 10, 1501

Rome, Italy

-them all.

Ezio jolted awake, a sound breaking through his dreams. His first instinct was to prepare for attack, but his Vision told him no dangers were there, although the hairs on the back of his neck were standing. His heart raced slightly, but he didn't pull out his knife as he turned to look at the other side of the room. Again, no enemy, but rather his wife, clad in a light-blue light. She was sitting up, facing ahead, looking at something in the dark. Her fingers clenched the sheets, her eyes unblinking. Her body was tense, and he opened his mouth to speak. He paused, though, blinking quickly. For a moment there, he thought he'd seen a flicker of red come into her color, but it must have been his imagination. She was blue once more.

"'Cat?" he called softly, reaching over to touch her hand. She visibly flinched, blinking quickly, and looked to him. There was an oddness to her features, and he recalled seeing it once before. He couldn't quite remember where as she smiled softly, but it didn't look sincere.

"Sorry, having trouble sleeping tonight. Go back to sleep," she spoke softly, brushing his cheek with her hand. It felt cold. She looked away from him without waiting for a reply, her gaze peering into the dark again. He couldn't tell what, and he couldn't bring himself to ask. He sighed softly, squeezed her fingers, and lay back down. He closed his eyes and hoped sleep would come quick, if only to numb him to the guilt and the fear festering in his belly.

He nearly did, but just as his dreams were ready to take him he remembered where he'd seen the look.

It had been in the dark of night—when his wife had tortured the Borgia smuggler.

-O-

June 02, 1501

Rome, Italy

Catherine paced the training room of the Isola Tiberina, the basement serving as the host for their exercises. Her eyes focused intently on their recruits, each group trading blows with their blunted weapons. They'd evened the numbers to six, adding in another bulky man called Carlo who could match with Jacopo, and a woman who went by Belloza, and was much thicker than most. She had bulk that helped her keep up with the men in battle but made her slower and less versatile than the others. They, like the others, had learned quickly and improved as such, but now their progress was reaching a new level. Their training was fiercer and more complex, and their mentor more ferocious. She allowed no mistakes—no slips of any kind. If they were to be ready for the war to come, they could no afford them. One minor mishap meant death, and they were only an Order of eight, including herself and her Ezio. Eight against the entirety of Roma's army, essentially. While one Assassin could equal twenty men at times, they would still be the first newest recruits since Mario Auditore had brought them to the fold decades ago. They needed to be better if their small numbers hoped to survive—and win.

The redhead spun on her heels as she reached Piero and Giotto. They had both become fond of the sword, and now sliced at each other, parrying or dodging blows. Sweat piddled on their brows, splashing off as they exerted themselves. Fresh scabs could be seen, and there were certainly new bruises to be had as Giotto slapped his blunt weapon against Piero's side. The smaller man grunted, visibly in pain, but recovered quickly, ducking below the next swing. He thrust forward, slamming his sword hilt into his opponent's gut, earning a point himself. It swung a little too low, causing his brother to hunker over, looking ready to hurl. Piero immediately dropped his stance and came over, touching his back gently.

"I'm sorry—I didn't mean to hit your balls!" he hissed with sympathetic pain.

"It's fine—you missed," Giotto chuckled, but he was slow to lean back up straight.