#in my defence i hadn't wanted to add any creatures. i thought the stairs were cool enough on their own

[flame-shadow]

the funny thing about doing these recent pen drawings is that i'm accidentally reminding myself of skills i have that just haven't been commonly used in a while. like, oh yeah! i can make a cool twisted hallway if i want to.

fun fact: i used to be super into optical illusions, and back in middle school, i did a bunch of studies of M.C. Escher's art. i loved how he played with perspective. i ambitiously recreated House of Stairs on a big piece of paper, and i was so proud of myself for figuring out the underlying methods of the perspectives he used for that piece.

i lost my drawing after that school year (or maybe they just didn't give it back to me after i turned it in for the assignment...?), but here's Escher's version. and it even has weird bug lizard things!

[kiatheinsomniac]

Unwoven Fate IV

[MY MASTERLIST]

(Y/n) had left her horse outside the walls of Florence, making it her priority to rent a room for the night before examining what she had found at her childhood home. The streets of Florence were busting with bards, merchants, artists, guilds and all other civilians of the home city of the Medici. 

Well, former home city. 

Something was wrong here, the same something wrong that she had missed back in Forlì. These weren't Florentine guards. Their uniforms were red and higher-ranked guards bore the emblem of a bull. It seemed that everywhere she had travelled to in Tuscany thus far had these soldiers patrolling the streets. Something had happened: some form of conflict or siege perhaps? 

(Y/n) didn't know a lot about politics; 'it's not a lady's business', her Aunt had always told her. That had always annoyed her. Regardless of the discrimination of her sex, it was the lack of knowledge that irritated her the most, something for her Aunt to lock away right before her eyes, like a child having their favourite toy taken away for their bad behaviour. 

These past few days were the only ones in which she was no longer treated as a child for the first time in her life. And it was getting increasingly difficult. 

Terracotta rooftops and tall church steeples rose from the ground around her as she made her way to a tavern, paying for her room and having to barter a little with the price, knowing that her money would run out sooner than she would like. Settling down in the bar below, she tore off a piece of bread to wipe around the edge of her soup bowl, mopping up anything that was leftover and leaning over her bowl. 

Her bag was settled on her lap, too worried to leave it and its contents alone in her room. She had started using an alias and trying to hide her face as much as possible by now, knowing that her Aunt and Uncle would use their influence to have people searching all over Tuscany. So, now she was Maria: a merchant's daughter attending the communion of her cousin in Venice, only passing through Florence for a time. 

"It was a very powerful speech, indeed, but I would have liked to see the stronzo burn." A man grumbled from a table nearby, speaking to his friend between finishing his drink, "He's the one that got the attention of the Borgia and if not for him, perhaps they wouldn't have come to Firenze at all and the Medici would still be here." 

(Y/n) could feel her ears perk up almost, turning her head away to listen without suspicion. The name Borgia rang a bell, hadn't her Uncle mentioned travelling to see a Borgia once? She could recall the event: sitting by the open garden doors while embroidering, her Uncle preparing for his journey. He had been gone for two weeks. 

But who was this Savonarola? (Y/n) knew of the Medici, of course, but why weren't they here? The Borgia had taken over the city? Had the infamously rich family been executed, imprisoned or exiled? 

"I think it's worth listening to Auditore." The other man replied, "He was wanted for a long time so something must have been keeping him busy, Something that motivated his speech, I bet. I was there when his family was killed, you know? I was one of the people that thought they were all guilty of betraying our republic and I saw him calling out in the crowd. He was only a boy, then mind you." 

More names: Savonarola, Borgia, Medici, Auditore. She repeated them like a mantra in her mind, engraving them there. She hoped that things would add up as she went along (although, much of that hadn't happened just yet) and these names could come to meet her understanding in time too. 

As the men changed their topic, she decided that now was the time to check what she had found back at her childhood home. Travel, shelter and hunger had taken up her priorities until now. 

Paying for her meal at the bar, she headed up the creaky stairs to her small room. She'd bought the cheapest one and the price showed: a small section of the loft with narrow walls, a singular bed and a desk with a candle that was on its last hour of light by the looks of things. Stepping outside, she lit it from the one mounted on the corridor wall, heading back into the room and locking the door behind her. 

Sitting at the desk, she carefully took out the scroll and the wrapped object, placing them down as gingerly as if they were holy relics. She bit her cheek as she ran her fingers over the mysterious parcel, feeling herself falter as she imagined either of her parents doing the same so many years ago. Taking a breath, she reached for the scroll first, untying the cord around the middle. 

Upon opening it, she realised that it had been folded as a letter once, with the wax seal broken on either side of the paper. The ink showed the same signs of age as the paper which was discoloured and fading. 

Signore y Signora (L/n)

The Assassins have lost their hold over Firenze. My brother and two of my nephews have been executed by the Templars. There was a traitor in their midst: Uberto Alberti. My surviving nephew has travelled here, to Monteriggioni, with my sister-in-law and niece. Do not try to continue your work in Firenze and do try to get your contacts in the city to safety, if possible. The Assassin stronghold has now been moved here. We need to reinforce our ranks: I am training more mercenaries and slowly introducing my nephew to the ways of the Assassin. Keep yourselves and your daughter safe. 

We work in the dark to serve the light. We are Assassins. 

-Mario Auditore. 

Assassins. Her parents had been Assassins. That name! Auditore. Could Mario be the one that the men downstairs were talking about? No, the man said that a boy had called out to his family from the crowd and Mario mentions a surviving nephew. This nephew must be the Auditore that the two men were speaking of. Folding the letter back up, she reached for the wrapped parcel next. 

Her fingers carefully worked on unwinding the string that kept it all together, pulling it away until she could start peeling back the cloth. But she wasn't entirely sure of what she was looking at afterwards. 

Some sort of arm guard? It had a form of shaft going along the length of it with very intricate metalwork. Her brows furrowed as she picked it up and turned it so that the shaft was facing downwards. That symbol again, the same one that had been on the mosaic - it was at the base of the arm guard. 

She had been hunting with her Aunt and Uncle before and was trained with a bow. This device looked similar enough to the arm guard that she had to wear to prevent her arm from potentially receiving an archer's kiss, a bruise from the impact of the string hitting the arm if your elbow was positioned wrong. Pulling up her sleeve, she attached it to her arm and held the limb out to examine the armour, pushing her wrist back to-

She gasped as the shaft moved with some mechanism, causing a blade to poke out and stop with a noise. Her fingers had instinctually curled in to prevent them from being sliced off. 

Examining the device further, she guessed that more of the blade was stuck inside the shaft, what had come out looked too small compared to the size of the arm guard. It hadn't been touched in years, perhaps time had taken its toll on this too? she reasoned. Rolling her wrist to try and trigger it again, the blade shot back into the shaft. She took it off and switched it to her dominant hand instead: this was not armour, this was a weapon. 

She put the letter back in the bag and shoved it under the bed, changing her clothes and laying them over the back of the chair of the desk. She could feel as she braided her hair that it needed to be washed and she prepared herself to go to sleep. In the morning, she would set off to Monteriggioni and see if Mario Auditore and his family had any answers for her. 

She couldn't help but smile to herself as she looked back at the hidden blade before stashing it back into her bag. Finally, she felt like she was getting somewhere! She had travelled from Forli to Florence now on the hope of finding something and now she finally had. Her parents had been Assassins! Someone in Monteriggioni could have answers! Snuffing out the candle and pulling the woollen blanket over her body, she closed her eyes. Tomorrow morning, she would head out for Monteriggioni. 

⚜⚜⚜

She had to get off her horse as soon as the town was in her sights. Tears prickled her eyes as she led the creature by the reigns instead. She always felt two steps behind the world: as if, while living with her Aunt and Uncle, what would have been her life had continued while she was left behind to learn how to play the violin and how to embroider, how to have her whole life planned out for her. Be a lady, marry a man, give him heirs, die. It was the only future she knew but now another one was revealed to her; one that had been taken and she couldn't go back to. 

But she would make a new one - she was making a new one - right now. 

She left her horse outside the city's walls, looking around at the rubble. The defences had crumbled in many areas, homes showed signs of having been burned down either partially or entirely. The people looked tired, hungry, scared. 

The remains of a large villa stood at the far end of the small town, the stairs leading up to it having makeshift paths for the people to cross safely over the damage. (Y/n) reached out to place her hand on the arm of a woman passing by. Her blonde hair was styled up with wisps framing her face, her silk skirts were dirty and she hugged a shawl around her shoulders, her makeup a mess. She had no undershirt, just her corset. She looked cold. 

"Excuse me but, what happened here?" 

"The filthy Borgias! That's what! They came a few weeks ago and destroyed the place early in the morning. Almost everything is gone and those who can't help to rebuild are leaving." (Y/n)'s eyes were caught by a red and gold flag on the floor, partially covered in debris, that same symbol! The one worked into the blade on her arm and on the mosaic puzzle. 

"And that flag? What does the symbol represent?" She pressed further. 

"I've always assumed it belonged to the Auditore family, they started flying them shortly after they arrived. The villa was theirs, they ran the town, brought it to prosperity." There! That name again! Things were adding up. (Y/n) had to contain her excitement. Upon seeing the state of the town, she felt that it could be another dead end but this could lead her to the family who knew her parents, this other family of Assassins. 

"And where are they now? I need to meet them - I've come a long way." The young woman continued. 

"Lucrezia, dai!" The blonde looked over (Y/n)'s shoulder to a group of women dressed similarly to her. Courtesans. 

"The family's daughter owns a bordello in Roma now, we are travelling there today." 

"Can I come with you?" (Y/n) spoke with a pleading note in her voice, "I won't trouble you, I just need to find these people." The courtesan eyed the woman eerily. 

"And why would a lady like you, want to travel with girls like us?" Her eyes became fixed to the strings of pearls around her neck that were poking out from under her chemise. 

"Because I'm alone and I've never travelled before recently. Someone wronged my family years ago when I was just a child. My parents died as a result. The Auditore's are the only ones who might be able to help me find out why." She paused, "Please." 

The courtesan gave a pitiful smile, "I'm sorry to hear that. . . Come along." She beckoned with her hand as she led (Y/n) over to the group of girls. 

As she mounted her horse again, she felt anxious. She didn't know what she was going to find in Rome. Her parents had been Assassins. What if they had been bad people? Who's to say that they had killed for good? She had only told herself this because she wanted to believe it. What if she was wrong?

Either way, she would find this Mario Auditore in Rome and, hopefully, she would find answers with him.