This short story is set in Florence at nighttime. The protagonist, a painter, is feeling uninspired as the rain threatens to fall. He stands on his balcony looking up at the dark sky, lost in thought with his art and inventions left aside. Though he never felt guilty about his work before, he now feels ashamed that he cannot follow the perfect orders of his patrons. He understands they only want art the masses will understand, but does not understand why people's minds are so weak and unwilling to question and seek more answers.

1. ~Our friend,
Saixkos-mos ~

2. Created by:
AvocadoPolymath
MewMewShia
Rakashael
SomaX
Firmamento
DeeNuke
RayvneRayne
StealthHanks
KaishySaiyanPrincess
Raine90
RandomStarvingArtist

3. This project is dedicated from us to
you, Saixkos-mos, to show you just
what your friendship means to us. :)

4. In this project you will find a little
something from all of us, to show how
much we love you.

5. So, without further ado, here are some
of our greatest creations as gifts to
you, our dearest friend:

6. Miracle
By MewMewShia

7. Assassin's Creed fandom. AU.
Totally Inaccurate Italian:
Pagano: Heathen
Empio cagna: Unholy bitch
Caro mio: Loved one
This adventure is inspired by 'Atelier Rorona', a fluffy, warm adventure that features an apprentice studying alchemy.
_____________________________
"Pagano! You will regret your crimes against us!"
"You are not worthy of praise! Disgusting, savage, witless FILTH!"
Fists and feet poured down on him, accompanied by Heaven's tears. His assailants were hellbent on showing no mercy, but he surrendered
the right to protest a short while ago. His throat was raw from having cried out in pain, burning with the intensity of an open flesh wound.
Wounds all across his body burned, as if they were all doused in a million flames, but no angel knew of his anguish. Heaven's messengers
had gone to sleep, and he was alone.
Cold, broken and helpless.
"Empio cagna! This is your reward for staining our family name!"
Diamonds rushed from his crisp, eternal blue eyes, but none of them were heard. Accompanied by the most savage laughter, fists and feet
continued to strike-and he was helpless, defenseless against the massacre of his fragile heart.
Twenty minutes before Heaven found its most precious angel, lying in the rain. Chilled to the bone, battered and silent.
Inconsolable.
________________________________

8. It was in that rain you found me, and in your arms I began to recover.
My dream was the birth of happiness. I dreamt of seeing smiles for so many days and nights, working at my hardest to create magic. I
dreamt of giving birth to new dreams, bright dreams, dreams of magic and wonder.
On that day you found me, shattered dreams and all.
If it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't even be able to walk this Earth-let alone drink from the fountains of happiness. If it hadn't been for you,
I wouldn't be able to breathe. You rescued me, cradled me, and for that I am forever grateful.
You brought me back to life, and now I can fly.
______________________________
I believed it was my destiny to spread happiness.
I wanted the birth of happiness more than I wanted to draw breath. Every day I took up arms, heading off into the miraculous world of
alchemy with my wand. Every day I was determined to work my magic, living and breathing only for the happiness of others.
Without standing on my own two feet, I conducted spells for the world I loved.
I was frozen in time, even though sunshine moved outside of my window. It was my purpose to spread light through our world, but I bore
no true light within me. I knew nothing of love's soft, sweet glow, or the tender song it offered complete hearts. I was always delighted to
witness the bliss of others, especially when their joy came from my alchemy. I might not have been a Master Alchemist, but I experienced
the deepest rapture whenever I created something-for I knew it would bring about many smiles.
I tried so hard to make others happy, even when I stumbled. I absorbed my world's happiness as a parched rose absorbs liquid crystal,
but...you were not there. I had not yet discovered Heaven's breath. And without that breath, without that sacred air, I fell into the deepest
darkness.
In the rain you found me, and nursed me back to health.
________________________________

9. When all seemed lost, the light came.
It flooded into me, breathing life into my veins, my lungs and blood. You helped me, shaped me, and I was brought back to life in your hands.
Never before had I seen such magic, tasted such rich air, or gripped such warm clouds, but you were there. And on the wings you gave me, I
was able to fly. I learned new things, dreamt of new treasures. I rose to new heights.
In the rain you found me, and because of your good deed, I have been reborn.
________________________________
In the light of day, magic played on Firenze's rooftops.
The clouds were alive with golden delight, glowing brighter with each passing day. The winds were vibrant and playful, alive with the rich aroma
of eternal sunshine. Smiles walked Firenze's streets, bathing in glow of an infinite dream. Birds graced the skies, singing of joy that grew
without boundaries.
In the light of day, magic soared through a quaint workshop. Gifts were abundant amongst its shelves, each one brimming with the purest
delight. And betwixt their walls stood a humble Alchemist. Bathing in the day's eternal glow, Leonardo tried his hand at something new-
But laughed once it blew up in his face. And in the distance, Niccolo Machiavelli shook his head.
"Not again, Leonardo. Are you STILL trying to perfect that?"
"It will work, caro mio. You will see!"
"Unless my workshop burns down," the Master Alchemist said, still shaking his head with a smile. He spoke several words under his breath.
"A spirit of unstoppable, unparalleled radiance. That's what you are, my Leonardo."

10. • by SomaX

11. Short Story
By Rakashael

12. The streets are empty by this time of day. Hints of the sun still sparkle in between the rows of
stone structures. Silence seems to sweep across the entire city, even the parts that would be bustling
during the afternoon. Ever so slowly the bright blue sky is over taken by the soft dark sheets of the
night. Somewhere in the middle of the vast stone forest, there is a small workshop owned by a
humble, but brilliant young painter. From the outside it looks as if no life has stirred from this place
for weeks. However, if you wonder inside and down the narrow corridor to the right, you'll see a dim
light from a cluttered, dust strewn room. As you wander closer you hear faint voices and occasional
laughter. Peek around the corner of the door way and you will see four people sitting around an iron
stove. From left to right in the circle the first person you see a large, young man with bright amber
eyes, dark brown hair and angular facial features. The person to his right is a small, but well built
young woman with long golden hair, bright green eyes and a heartwarming smile. To her right, sitting
rather closely is another young woman with lovely straight black hair and dark eyes, her features are
soft, and her smile is inviting. Swiftly she playfully whacks the older young man next to her. His hair
is golden like clean straw, and his eyes are as bright a blue as the sky lights that fade above them.
Their conversation seems indiscernible, but it is easy by their soft, relaxed expressions, that they are
pouring their hearts out.
"Leonardo, it isn't impossible! You said it yourself that nothing truly is. Come now,
show us the design! Maybe we can help!" Prods the dark eyed woman.

13. "Oh, I couldn't... it’s not ready yet." Shyly the artist replies.
"Leonardo, Saix is right... what’s to lose? You are among friends. If you'll let us help you, me and Saix will
show you our designs!" The golden haired girl glimmers playfully.
A twinge of curiosity shines in Leonardo's crystal blue eyes. For months it seems his sweet apprentices have
horded and hidden their precious art works from the world. They were afraid that they would be shunned,
hated, or hurt. In his pondering, he suddenly makes eye contact with the large young man next to him. A little
wondrous himself, it seems the subtle smile in those amber eyes makes Leonardo's decision much easier. He
nods with a shallow sigh,
"Alright, alright, I'll go get it, if you'll go fetch your designs."
More reluctant than the rest, Saix slowly stands from her seat and turns to fetch her, as she calls
them, hideous works. Before she can move past him, the amber eyed man stops her. Gently he tugs her
sleeve,
"If it means anything to you... I'd really like to see them." He mutters shyly.

14. A little taken by his sudden sweetness toward her, Saix moves on with a little nervousness. Within a
good amount of time, after Leonardo has buried through all his papers and random contraptions, the
three return to the fire's light. Each holds their work tightly to their chest, suspiciously, and at the same
time eager.
"I vote you go first Rakashael." Leonardo plucks at the papers hidden in her arms.
"Eh... o-okay, okay!" She glances at the large man to her left, he smiles so sweetly to her.
How that smile could cause one's heart to falter, if only he knew the power he held. In any case, the shy
emerald eyed vixen moves the papers slowly toward the light. Upon them, clear designs of two men and
a woman have been colored in with ink.
"Is that Ezio?" Saix gushes with a giggle.
Frightened, little Rakashael nods shakily. Leonardo and Saix smile at each other,
"I don't see why you hid them, they are very well done."
"Well done? No, they are terrible!"
"I don't think they are terrible." Ezio interjects, softly of course.

15. After a moment of admiring her work, Leonardo is elected by Rakashael to show his works. Some
coercing is needed, but he gets on with it and reveals his marvelous designs. In his scrawl can be seen
the care and love he puts into all of his work, especially so it seems, a little sketch on the top left of the
page. A small portrait of Saix, he eyes have been colored carefully.
"Such a sweet memento... it looks so much like her... “Rakashael grins and glances at the red
faced Saix.
"Well, well, how about you Saix..." Leonardo clears his throat.
All the convincing it took Leonardo to show his work, it takes at least twice as much for the raven haired
lady to even loosen her grip on her parchments. Eventually, she shows them with great reluctance.
All mouths seem to slightly drop when they lay eyes on her pieces. In a sense they lack a little muscular
structure, but are perfectly proportional, and quite relaxing to look at. Leonardo feels the need to place
his arms around the sweet Saix. Tightly he embraces her and thanks her for sharing her beautiful work.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

16. How admirable is one who never gives up, and always is so kind. It shows in their art, because without a
little heart there can be none.
The world knows so little about you, and I think they should. To be counted among my muses you have to
be close to my heart, you have to be strong, you have to hold the potential to be something great. You have
all of this, and some day there will arise the opportunity to be free of your situation and show the world
what you are really made of. When that opportunity arises I know you will have the strength to take it and
give all those bad talkers a taste of what you can do. Those mean things, those lies you'd been fed about
being worthless have greatly angered me. I know how you feel; I know we are akin, if in no other way than
our shattered minds. I was not drawn to you because you fail at life, but simply that you have yet to proceed.
We'll move on together, one step at a time.
I love you big sis!
~
Rakashael

18. Here is a beautiful song written by
Rakashael:

19. Firefly
By DeeNuke

20. This story was inspired by Blue Glow
by Saixkos-mos :)

21. Firefly
The night was late, the darkness so deep that the stars were barely visible across the pitch black heights. It was another gloomy dusk, the rain
menacing to fall over Florence once again, washing away the last of his inspira>on or mood to create. Days have passed since he cra@ed
something, since his hand hold the dark kohl, ruddle or a brush, days since he looked over his notes and try to find answer to the ques>ons
that were always springing in his mind. But lately, there were no ques>ons to be answered, and it seemed that everything was in vain. His
efforts and struggles of being beFer and beFer, his art and his inven>ons were le@ aside, somewhere in the corner of his mind and of his
workshop.
He took a deep breath as he leaned on the wooden edge of the balcony and looked up at the dark sky. A sad smile curved his lips as he sighed
and rubbed his eyes gently un>l strange shapes started to form underneath his lids pressured by his long slander fingers. He let his hands fall
across his body as he looked down at his palms, his skin white and in a powerful contrast with everything around him, no longer stained by his
paints and hues, colors and >nts. Another sigh escaped his lips as he gulped silently. He has never felt guilty for the way he lived and deal with
things, but then he suddenly felt ashamed that he could never follow the perfect orders of none of his patrons.
He knew that them were only searching for something the masses would understand, but he will never understand why the minds of people
would be so weak and not search for more answer, not linger more ques>oning everything around them and only simply accept what were they
given. That kind of behavior was one of the many reasons that made him not finish his works, as if he was never free enough to create and to
express himself. But the man suddenly snorted annoyed realizing his own thoughts as he felt a strange >ngle inside his chest, a faint ache that
spread quickly inside in his body making his hands numb. He smiled saddened once more and whispered to himself:
"Leonardo, you fool... What makes you think they don't let you create...", said the man in a low tone, then glaring into the pitch black distance
con>nued, "Maybe you're just not good enough to create whatever they want..."

22. And as his words were spoken, the silence fell once again over him, only his breathing sounds and fizzling of the garments reaching his ears like silent
whispers from afar that were quickly carried away by the chilly wind that was blowing. The man made a step back and shook his head in disapproval
before his hands moved across his arms, the painter trying to warm himself as the cold breeze blew his way. His hair fluFered, his curled light brown
locks flowing now heavy across his back, moved by the gust of wind. And for a second his blue eyes closed as sadness took over him again. He no
longer felt needed or capable and even if a part of him didn't want to give up, there was a side that just wanted all forgoFen.
He sighed again and pressed his palm above his chest as if he wanted to stop the mild ache that burst inside. He wanted to shout it, to tell someone
about those feelings, but there was no one that would listen. And maybe the one that would, was not there, probably figh>ng his secret war in a
different part of the world, protec>ng the life of so many, the weight of the world burdening the shoulders of the Assassin, the one that had became
his lover and now was missed more than ever. The painter snorted annoyed and gently hit himself with the base of his palm across his forehead as if
he was trying to chase away the thoughts. Sucking in a deep breath the ar>st shook his head to clear it, forcing his reasoning back to the present and
invi>ng his prac>cal nature to ease his fears:
"His risking his life for the world’s well beings and you're complaining about some stupid pain>ngs...", muFered the ar>st annoyed. “Get a grip of
yourself...”
But suddenly the taciturnity was dissipated by a voice that spoke, the noise reaching Leonardo's ears through the deep silence making the man
flicker startled as if a thunder would have shaken the heights. The man moved and turned around, at first his eyes catching only the glimpse of a
silhoueFe moving towards him, but then, under the faint light of the lamp the painter recognized the new comer, the man leaning one of his arms
negligently over the door's frame, the breadth of him filling the open space. The painter let out a slow sigh as if he was trying to hide his breathing
and looked up at the face of the man standing in front of him, his black lashes and hazel eyes beneath straight dark brows, glancing back at the
ar>st, as the new comer's lips curved into a so@ smile. Leonardo almost made a step back as if he needed a moment to calm his sudden racing
pulse and greeted the man, his voice loud, but burdened by a weary and saddened tone:
"Ezio, you're back..."

23. The other man nodded and closing the space between the two li@ed his right hand, his fingers quickly res>ng on the painter's cheek, making the other
man froze as tension seeped into Leonardo's shoulders and neck. He could feel the new comer's back of the palm across his brow trailing it down the
curve of his cheek, his warm, calloused hands across his skin and his body standing so close that he could feel the assassin's heat. The painter smiled as
if suddenly the weight on his shoulders was li@ed and rubbed his cheek gently against the other man's fingers, his lips moving, and the man speaking
again:
"I've... missed you..."
"If that is so, then you should tell me why are you whispering to the darkness these black thoughts?"
The painter smiled amused and said glancing into the new comer’s eyes:
"What else should I speak to the night, my dear Ezio?"
"My name… So I could hear it from afar when I'm away?", grinned the assassin moving away the painter and leaning over the wooden edge of the
balcony watching the ground underneath.
"I didn't took you for a poet, assassin...", grinned the painter amused.
"Don't change the subject, Leonardo...", insisted the other man looking quickly over his shoulder at the ar>st as the man walked near the balcony, his
hands pressing over the banister.
"It's nothing, my dear...", said Leonardo.
"So hearing you whisper about stupid pain>ngs and not being good enough was just me hearing things?", smiled briefly Ezio glaring at the other man.
Leonardo snorted annoyed and turning his head towards the assassin said:
"For how long have you been hiding into the shadows?"
"Enough to hear your words...", smiled Ezio moving to the right, a step closer towards the painter, leaning his side against the ar>st's. "Why don't you share
the load, Leonardo?"
"Because it's nothing, Ezio..."

24. "Because you think is nothing... Do I not come to you when I was troubled?"
Leonardo nodded and smiling mildly said:
"We do not share the same… problems..."
"Then you admit there is a problem”, insisted the man and con>nued, “Just because I live the way I do, doesn't mean I cannot listen to the man I love..."
Suddenly the painter's eyes snapped open, his blue pupils glaring at the assassin, his mouth partly opened, the man face showing a surprised expression,
but only for a few seconds as Leonardo draw in a deep breath and said as if he was shaken up from a dream:
"Do you know... that you’re haun>ng my every thought?"
"I can only wish that", smiled Ezio leaning his head on the painter's shoulder. "But for a while, I was out of your thoughts and replaced with those gloomy
clouds of doubt you're having..."
"Like I said, it's nothing...", persisted Leonardo without looking at the assassin.
"Don't make me beg", replied Ezio laying his hand across Leonardo's skin into a gentle caress from his cheek to the man's chin making Leonardo frown and
bit back a moan as he opened his mouth and said:
"I… I am not able to finish anything, and I am not able to even fulfill a simple task like a pain>ng..."
Ezio snorted amused and said:
"That is because I always make you work on my codex pages and weapons..."
"Don't joke about it. You wanted to know; now I tell you...", replied Leonardo bluntly.
"I know, Leonardo. But you're not right to think the way you do?"
"Is it now...?", muFered the painter.
"How many >mes have I stolen you from the building site of a noble man that asked for your advice and services? How many >mes have I come to you to
aid me while you were working, while I was wounded or restless, demanding your aFen>on for weeks, days in which you could have worked for your own
commissions..."

25. Leonardo gulped and smiling amused said:
"I doubt that is the problem, my dear Ezio..."
The assassin grinned and said:
"Then, perhaps, the problem should be our nights together...?", inquired Ezio amused and con>nued, "Did I allow myself to linger too long in
your embrace?"
Leonardo's head turn slowly towards the assassin, the ar>st flaring his nostrils as a forced smile curved his lips, the painter saying in a low tone,
bi>ng his lower lip feeling his face flustered:
"I think you did not allow yourself enough while in my arms, love..."
The assassin laughed amused, his smile broadening, his white, straight teeth flashing for a second before the painter's eyes as Ezio spoke again:
"Now that I have you smiling again, I guess I should give you the present I got for you..."
Leonardo turned around puzzled and staring at the assassin said:
"A... present?"
"I see fit to give it to you now... plus, they won't last much longer trapped like that...", smiled Ezio.
The painter gazed at Ezio curious and replied:
"I take it is a living creature..."
"Many living creatures, corrected Ezio the man while li@ing into the air his le@ hand that kept a small wooden box between his fingers, its case
finely punctured le]ng the oxygen inside.

26. "So small...", smiled Leonardo taking the box and slowly opening its lid. But suddenly small flying creatures flew out, their body emana>ng a blue faint light,
the bugs floa>ng into the air, dancing into the chilly breeze as the painter laughed amused at their fran>c movements, his sapphire eyes staring at the azure
glows that were spreading around him and his lover. The man made a step back and gazed at the assassin, their eyes mee>ng for a second as the youngster
moved closer to him, his arms wrapping around the ar>st's shoulders, the man whispering slowly in the painter's ear:
"I knew you'd like them..."
"They're blue... There are no blue fireflies..."
"Liar”, laughed so@ly Ezio and con>nued, “This is no hallucina>on, my love..."
The painter smiled and nodded his hands clinging over Ezio's arms as he said sa>sfied, exhaling deeply:
"Thank god for that..."
[by DeeNuke]

28. Where My Heart
Belongs
By RayvneRayne

29. Leonardo stood in the square as the sun began to sink from the sky, staring at the shadow that was cast against the
closing market stalls. Clouds were rolling in rather quickly and the cool autumn day was turning into a cold autumn
night. The streets were closing and people retiring to their homes, but there the Eagle sat still as stone, his cape
fluttering in the breeze that had kicked up. Leonardo watched with sad eyes as he wrapped his arms around himself.
He had a feeling he knew why he perched atop the crumbling pillar, so far away from the world that he protected. The
painter would give anything to let the assassin know just how much he was needed, and how he didn’t need to feel so
alone. Sighing, Leonardo left his spot as the cold chill started to settle in his bones. He left the assassin to his quiet
contemplation, alone.
Ezio stared at the horizon, watched as the blazing sun started to disappear behind the hills with fire dancing across the
darkening sky. Up here, he felt free, being kissed by the evening’s cool breath. So many thoughts were trampling
through his mind and he needed to release them. It wasn’t often he let his feelings get the best of him and after
sometime he wondered if he had feelings at all or if he was an empty husk, hell bent on killing. His wonder ceased
when his feelings of loss and loneliness plagued him now and in his dreams. He hadn’t truly slept a full night in a week.
He was mentally and physically exhausted. He needed to relinquish these thoughts and somber feelings to the only
person he felt would honestly listen. Hopping down the next pillar, he followed them until he was once again on solid
ground. Mounting his horse he lowered his head and kicked the while mare into a trot, his destination warring on his
mind.
Leonardo hummed quietly to himself; he had just finished building up the fire in an attempt to get the chill out of the
large room. Grabbing one of his many research books he was about to settle down into the chaise with a blanket and
the warming, crackling fire when a quiet knock echoed through the quiet workshop.
“Un momento!” Leonardo called, placing his book on his work table.
Opening his door he was greeted by a very familiar hooded friend.

30. “Buonasera Leonardo.” White breath hung in the air from under his darkened hood.
“Ezio! How good to see you! Come, get out of the cold.”
Ezio respectfully pulled his hood off and followed the painter into his home, closing the door with his boot. His steps were
virtually silent as he crossed the vast room to where the painter was babbling. The warm fire was welcomed and seemed
to touch the chill he felt around his heart.
“…I should have cleaned up more, but hey…organized chaos.”
Leonardo turned to Ezio and immediately ceased his one sided conversation. Ezio looked horrible, he was much paler than
Leonardo remembered, dark circles formed under his eyes and a dark shadow was cast across his sharp features as his
amber eyes stared at the floor boards.
“Ezio?”
“Hmmm.”
“You do not look so good, something is troubling you my friend. What is it?” Leonardo prodded gently.
He knew why the assassin graced his home tonight. It had been such a long time and he was going to be as patient as
possible. He watched as Ezio flopped heavily onto the chaise his face buried in his hands.
“I am tired. Tired of…this.” Ezio answered, motioning at Leonardo.
“I do not understand Ezio.” A little hurt, Leonardo pulled up a stool next to his friend, placing a gentle hand on the
assassin’s quivering knee, waiting for him to explain.
“Leonardo, I do not know how much longer I can go on. I am hated and feared. I cannot walk the streets freely
anymore. I am alone, my life…it was never truly mine. Even now I work for everyone else; my life never really
belonged to me.”
“Me, your madre and Claudia…they are here.”

31. “They run the brothel; they no longer need me now that Claudia has become an assassin. I fear the world no longer needs me.
All I ever wanted was to find my place; il mentore is what I have become. Right now, four assassins are outside willing to put
their lives on the line to protect me, but why?”
“Because Ezio, you are worth their protection and you give them something to fight for.” Leonardo answered quietly. His blue
eyes twinkled in the fire light.
“Am I?” Ezio snapped, raising his head to meet caring gaze. Not realizing that his sudden outburst caused the painter to
remove his hand from Ezio’s knee.
“I am no more important than they. I am merely a leaf floating along aimlessly on an autumn breeze. I have no one to call my
own, no one to come home too. I do not even have a home anymore. I cannot return to Firenze, Monteriggioni was
destroyed… I have nothing. All my possessions I carry with me, my only home is the hideout and it is just that… a place to
hide and if I cannot make it back to the hideout, it is the nearest alley or abandoned building that can offer little protection.
This is what my life has become.”
“Ezio…”
“I am tired of being alone, tired of being hunted, tired of not having a reason to keep fighting what I am fighting for. Leonardo,
I am exhausted. I feel my time has passed me by and I have spent it chasing after revenge rather than living.” Ezio’s voice
trailed off to nothing more than a whisper.
“Ezio…”
“I am sorry Leonardo. I did not mean to burden you, I must leave. I…have some work to do.” Ezio interrupted as he started to
stand only to be shoved back down into the chaise lounge, Leonardo pointing an angry finger at the Assassin, fire in his eyes.
Ezio acted with surprise, he hadn’t seen Leonardo act like this in a long time.

32. “Ezio, you listen to me and listen good. You mean the world to your Madre and you always come up in the conversations that
Claudia and I have. She thinks the world of you. You my friend have become a legend. The thieves they talk you up as if you
were death himself, so skilled that you could sneeze and topple mountains. Your assassins follow and protect you, just like you
do with them. They strive to fill your boots, they are so proud to be led by you. If only you could hear how highly they speak of
you. Even Machievelli holds you in high regard.”
Leonardo was interrupted by a scoff and an eye roll. Leonardo punched the assassin in the arm as hard as he could.
“Owe.” Ezio whined, rubbing his arm.
“Silenzioso, I am not done with you. You might not be able to walk the streets freely, but only those who are stupido dare trifle
with you. You have an amazing power Ezio and all of Roma feels safer with you around. I have seen children playing in the
streets, pretending to be the famed il assassin of Roma with their wooden sticks as swords and canvas bags as your hood. Many
people could only dream of what you do. You don’t hear the whispers at court, they secretly admire you. You are not homeless
either. I have always opened my home to you and your assassini and I always will. If your father or brothers could see what you
have become, they would be bursting with pride. Look at what you have accomplished Ezio.” Leonardo finished, with a wave of
his hand.
“I do not see these things. Every time I come here, I put you in danger.” Ezio muttered, dropping his head.
Leonardo reached out and grabbed the young assassins chin, forcing his amber eyes to look at him. He could see all the pain
and fears that they kept hidden.
“Perhaps you should open those beautiful eyes of yours and look around assassino. Look at the lives you have saved by spilling
corrupt blood. I have the utmost respect for what you do Ezio. You, you do things that I sometimes wish I could do. You have
seen places I yearn to see. If I did not want you here, you would not be here. Apart of me gets a chance to live through you
every time you use one of these weapons.” Leonardo grabbed Ezio’s wrist with his free hand.
“I am still alone Leonardo, I feel empty and soulless.”

33. “Nonsenso. When I look into your eyes I see all the hurt you keep hidden from the rest of the world. I also see all your hopes
and fears. It is what gives them their incredible depth, and when you use your special talent they get so deep I could drown in
them. Ezio, I can see your soul in them and it is a good one, just like your heart.”
Leonardo let go of his wrist and placed his hand over his heart, and cupping his cheek with his other hand.
“Leonardo…”
“You are not alone Ezio. Look around you maestro. Most of all, you have me and so long as I draw breath I will always be here
to talk some sense in you and love you for who you really are, hidden under all the armor and blades.” Leonardo finished with a
bright smile.
Ezio sat in silence. Everything Leonardo had said was true. He just needed to hear it ever once in a while. He was lost in
Leonardo’s endless sky blue eyes and that made him truly see that Leonardo held his heart.
“How could I have been so blind.” Ezio whispered.
“You have been wearing that hood for far too long il mio amico.” Leonardo replied, his laughter loosened the chain around Ezio’s
heart.
“Mi dispiace Leon...”
“Shh! You have no reason to apologize to me. Come now, lets get you to bed. You look exhausted.”
Ezio nodded and followed the painter to his room and shed his armour, weapons and robes while Leonardo sat on the bed,
watching with trained eyes.
Ezio caught his reflection in the large mirror by the door. He was worn out and beyond tired but what he saw in the mirror was
not the tired visage of an assassin, what he saw was himself, completely free. No armor, no robes or weapons to hide himself in.
He was just himself, released from the heavy burden he carried every time he put on those robes. He was free when he came to
leonardo’s. It felt as if his anvil had been lifted. Everything he had been looking for, was right here waiting for him the whole
time. He was home, where he felt safe, comfortable and for the first time in a long time, he no longer felt alone.

34. Ezio walked over to the bed and slid under the covers, propping his head up on his hand he watched as Leonardo got off the
bed, removed his boots and made up the fire. Ezio’s tired body was now dragging his eyelids down.
“Leonardo, grazie.”
“For what?” Leonardo repied, walking over to the bed where Ezio lay.
“Reminding me of how good my life really is.”
The artist chuckled at the huge yawn that rapidly erupted from Ezio.
“You never were alone. Now, get some sleep. I will be in the chair.”
Before Leonardo could turn around, Ezio grabbed his arm and pulled with more strength then one man should have when
asleep, down into the bed with him gaining him a startled yelp from the painter.
“You sleep...re...” Ezio mumbled, wrapping his arm tightly around Leonardo’s waist. Smiling to himself he settled into the bed,
sliding under the covers the best he could while trying not to disturb Ezio who was now snoring softly.
“I’ll stay.” Leonardo whispered, smiling when Ezio hugged him tighter.
That night Ezio has slept better than he had in a long time. He knew now that he wasn’t as alone as he once believed himself to
be.
He was a legend, the great Ezio Auditore and his heart belonged to Leonardo da Vinci.

35. • By AvocadoPolymath

36. Because He is Always
There
By Raine90

37. Ezio lay on a rooftop, eyes closed, arms behind his head. It had been a long while since he last had the chance to just lie
there … and feel.
He felt the last golden rays of sunshine warm his body, casting it into an exceptional shade of light. All facets of yellow,
gold, orange and red – known and unknown to mankind – danced slowly and sensually over his armor-clad form and
came together to create a masterpiece only nature could possibly bring forth.
He felt the cool, light breeze of the oncoming night envelop him into its soft embrace.
But most importantly, he felt a peace he had not thought possible to exist in such a cold and cruel world.
The source of this peace was simple. The last years Ezio had constantly been travelling around, assassinating allies of
the Templar order and ensuring Italys safety. The constant stress and the endless nagging of restlessness had dragged
the famous assassin into a downward spiral of depression and violence, until he had not been able to bear it any longer
and had broken down because of physical and mental exhaustion.
And it had been a friend – his friend Leonardo, the dearest and most kind of all souls – who had acted upon his misery
and had decided to not let Ezio throw himself into another dangerous mission until he had fully recovered. Surely all
those evil people could wait! The deaths of a few templars were far less important than Ezios life, si? , the artist had
reasoned.
And what a better place for recovery than in the comforting embrace of art and friendship?
Driven by these thoughts, Leonardo had dedicated all of his time during the last two weeks to Italys feared eagle,
nursing him back to health with soothing hands and loving words.
And all this time Ezio had felt his body healing and the heavy weight upon his heart lighten under the care of his best
friend.
Ezios brows furrowed the tiniest bit and his lips formed a small pout.
He could not quite count the times he had thought the word “friend” in the last ten minutes, but now that he thought
about it, what did it really mean? What was it about Leonardo that made him his friend?

38. Leonardo deciphered his various codex pages for him, he let the assassin borrow his precious inventions (quite useful for the
blonde himself because he didn’t need to search for a person mad enough to test them for him), he treated his wounds, gave
him shelter whenever the Auditore needed it, laughed with him, comforted him when the memory about the loss of his family
resurfaced, he tried to keep the assassin safe at all costs,… Leonardo was always there when he was needed, with open arms
and a reassuring smile.
And what did Ezio do to earn this kind souls attention?
He showed up in the artists workshop and always with work to do for the blonde man – usually deciphering some code or some
form of medical treatment - ,then he disappeared before sunrise, for months or even years and without so much as writing a
letter to let Leonardo know he was alive. He stole the artists precious and much needed time – time Leonardo could have
spend working on his overdue commissions or on one of his beloved inventions –and he put his FRIEND, the man who cared
about him, in constant danger!
All in all, Ezio concluded, it was a wonder the genius still spoke to him. But then again, maybe it was not so wonderous at all.
After all, the artist had always been gentle and naïve – far too naïve for his own good, never expecting something in return for
all the nights he had spend awake because of the assassin and for all the trouble he went through with the always suspicious
city guards who harassed him as much as possible.
And why did the blonde do that? Because he cared. And Ezio had never before understood the luxury he had, because
Leonardo was always there.
Yawning, Ezio stood and began to make his way down the roof of the inventors workshop, the feeling of peace never leaving
him even with the warmth and light of the sunrays gone. It was time to properly thank Leonardo for being his one truly safe
haven in the never ending storm the assassin called his life.
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40. May your life be filled with happiness.
Wonderful opportunities await you.
You have all of us behind your back
and we know you will do great things.
You are so talented and wonderful and
our world would be dark without you
to show us the light.