The sun was setting down, marking yet another day's end. The bloody red was gradually fading out, leaving the sky blue for the night. Seagulls were squawking in the distance, away from the shore. Waves were silently hitting the border – wind was as light as ever. You could almost mistake the weather for peaceful summer evening, if it weren't for the coldness in the air, the shortness of a day and the clamor of people around. Sounds from every direction could fill your ears. Shouts and cries were accompanied by various activities. Men were unloading heavy cargo from the ships, carrying them to the neat piles. Others transported the crates to their proper destinations around the city. Women were more or less chatting around or ordering men what to do and whatnot. It seemed that the people were so engaged in their tasks, they did not even admire the beauty of the scenery before their eyes. Without a glance they carried on with their tasks. However their determination was clearly visible. The port was lively to say the least. After all, this evening surpassed its usual commotion. Today people began preparing for the long awaited event. The carnival of Venice was soon to be starting.

High above the turmoil, Ezio watched the scenery unfold before his eyes. Sitting leisurely on one of the roofs, leaning against the warmth providing chimney he let himself have a time out. His stretched out legs were crossed one on top of the other, feet slightly moving from side to side as his mind was preoccupied with many thoughts at once. The preparations for the Carnival made some of his hidden memories resurface. Almost a year had passed since the events he was not sure how happened at all. And what a year it was! During that time, he was constantly in motion, searching, tracking, and killing his enemies or those who stood in his way, getting closer and closer to the source of his hatred. Oh how he craved for it. To kill the man, who caused his never ending pain and suffer. It was this man who left him with no family, no source of warmth and comfort. For that he must pay. He was determined to avenge his slain family. Few silent minutes passed, and Ezio's sudden outburst of bitterness faded out. Yes, the revenge was his priority alright; nevertheless, there were other things to ponder upon.

For example, Altaïr.

At this Ezio let a long sigh. All the year he tried to push away thoughts and questions on this matter. However, he knew this couldn't last forever. Once or twice he tried to investigate Altaïr's past. Or present. Anyway, his research was fruitless. He failed to acquire any new piece of information, something that he didn't already know, that is. The assassin shook his head. Last year, instead of fooling around, he should have asked Altaïr some questions, for now he knew nothing about the other assassin and not only he felt bad, but also embarrassed. To lose head so quickly… It was not like him. All the training he had, all the lessons he was taught fled from his mind instantly, once Altaïr claimed his mouth with his own. Those rough, wind struck lips moving against his, that sandy odor of his clothes filling his nose… No. Stop. Ezio had to breathe in and out deeply to calm his body and mind. Here he was again, distracted by those few memories, that kept repeating inside his head. Whenever he lets his thoughts drift to that direction, it always disturbs his rational way of thinking; also, it makes him want to hasten the days until the actual evening of celebration.

Ah, those painful seven days. He had waited for so long; surely, few days won't do anyone harm, right? Digging his fingers painfully to the clay tiles of the roof he tried to reassure himself. His long awaited night was just around the corner, yet Ezio's patience was running thin. Very thin. Somewhere along the lines he realized, he needed Altaïr both physically and mentally, and to wait for a week more, was one of the most painful experiences in his life. How such changes could be made in less than a day's time? He wasn't so sure himself. But that night's effect was clearly visible to the Italian assassin. Of course, that night was the axis of his thoughts, but a bunch of various doubts and fears were nagging him. Ah, why these things have to be so difficult to deal with? Pinching the bridge of his nose, the assassin yet again had to restrain himself from acting impulsively. Maybe he could use these seven days to solve his inner problems? Maybe then his mind will continue to work properly and he will comprehend his own behavior better? He hoped so. Making a silent promise to put his thoughts in order before confronting Altaïr, the assassin stood up, brushed specks of dust from his pants and shirt, and made his way towards the brothel to stay for the night. Surely, good-natured ladies will be glad to help him with his current problem.

It's no secret that Ezio loved a company of lovely women. One could actually say that he was quite a regular customer of brothels. Every courtesan knew him, and each of them sought to keep him company for the night. The assassin didn't mind such attention; in fact, he was satisfied with their interest in him, and the skillfulness of their eager hands which tend to ease his troubled mind. Ah, but now he had entered some kind of metamorphosis. Lying on silken pillows, holding an almost empty glass of fine wine did nothing to make his mind go numb. His companion for the night was working very hard to relieve stress; however, even she was of no use to him right now. Continuing her ministrations she purred something incoherent to Ezio's ears. Undesirable thoughts were once again penetrating his mind. Closing his eyes, he replaced talented courtesan's figure with that of a Syrian assassin. Apparently, this was a good choice, since tricking his brains into thinking he was with Altaïr made his body respond in a ways it should have in the first place. Experienced hands were tracing Ezio's skin, and he countered those gestures with similar skill. It all went without a hitch afterwards.

When the deed was done, both partners felt fulfilled, sinking to the softness of pillows once again. Ezio knew it was very shameful to mentally replace the woman with a person of his desire, however he couldn't help it. Fortunately, he didn't give himself away. Closing his eyes, he felt the weariness envelope him, and the man decided to let it take over.

The next day the assassin woke up feeling peaceful and refreshed. Leaving the brothel and bidding the girls farewell, Ezio headed to the city's market, in order to fetch something for breakfast. The sun was already hanging high in the sky, making the city look nice and bright. Trying to squeeze through currently filled streets, the man chose to shorten his journey by traveling via the nearest canal. Leaning over the railing of a bridge, he swiftly jumped from pole to pole leaving fascinated crowd's comments behind his back. Ah, he preferred this type of traveling to walking among the citizens. He felt free and without a sense of being watched. A sudden thought that he should show this method of making one's way to Altaïr crossed his mind. He would like it. Maybe he would even praise him. At that Ezio felt his heart warm. He would definitely show Altaïr his learned skills as an assassin. Maybe one day Ezio will catch up with Syrian master assassin. To reach such rank, to be Altaïr's equal… Could he say it was his lifetime goal? He doubted. But still, the thought was a nice one. Ezio let small smile escape his lips. Oh, such innocent thoughts, and he was already feeling giddy!

His journey was coming to an end. The Italian assassin could already smell tasty food in the air. Making the last giant leap, he smoothly landed on the stable ground, in the heart of a market. Visiting few of the stalls, he bought himself a nice warm focaccia, couple of apples and a bottle of fine home-made wine. Gathering his goods he went to sit on a nearby bench, and start the feast. His empty stomach was already asking to be filled, and Ezio was more than willing to obey. Munching on his savory bread, the assassin scanned his surroundings. Nothing seemed out of place. As the day before; people were decorating every corner with flags and lanterns, for the Carnival. Marketplace was the heart of a city, and it was obviously evident, since people of all statuses tended to walk around.

His eye then had caught a young couple acting affectionately towards each other. Ezio knew it was none of his business, especially when two people were having such private moment, but the assassin couldn't hide his curiosity, also, he tried to reason himself that if they wished for discreetness, they shouldn't have act like they did in such a public place. He eyed them secretly, taking a bite of one of his apples. Maybe he could learn a thing or two from them. As soon as the thought reached his brains, he felt like slapping his own face. What the hell was he thinking? What, that he and Altaïr could show affection in broad daylight? Oh yes, no doubt he could, but not more than a few minutes would pass and they would have to face the wrath of society, not to mention guards. They would be hanged in no time. But they were both assassins... He shook his head. It's not like he wanted to spend his life hiding in the shadows. Better to remain obscure.

His musings were interrupted when the couple entwined their fingers. It was such a small gesture, yet it held such a meaning. He could not help but think if Altaïr would allow himself to hold hands like this? Pah, highly unlikely. Was it even a custom in Syrian's times? Maybe he would be misunderstood, and the master assassin would turn away, back to his era, never to return. Besides, he could not ignore that small inner voice that was telling him, that Altaïr assumed, their previous encounter was a one night stand. He swallowed a large chunk of apple, and it uncomfortably slid down his throat. The idea of being neglected was absolutely frightening. Though he wasn't sure why. Finally the couple made their leave, their decision highly appreciated by Ezio. Emptying half of his bottle, he sated his hunger and thirst. However, he wished not to have eaten so much, since the previous train of thoughts made his stomach churn in an unpleasant way. Six days left, and the assassin was already feeling anxious. His mind was a mess, he knew. He also knew that it was not like him, to have so many doubts and thoughts especially regarding such topic as relationship. Could he even call their encounter like that? The more he thought about it, the more it seemed that they actually did not have any kind of commitment to each other. So why his mind was so preoccupied with this damned matter? Question upon question, and answers were nowhere to be seen. He really wanted to punch something, if not to gain information, then to get rid of this tension and mess inside his body.

Some time had passed, while he sat on the bench, absently rolling now empty bottle between his hands. The sun was already going down, due to the short days. Standing up abruptly, he disposed of the bottle and strode past the market. The assassin was determined to spend the rest of his day punching empty air, or preferably, a tree to let off some steam. He couldn't explain where all this aggression was coming from, but it was there. And his fists were yearning to hit something so much. How could he deny his own body?

Day after day Ezio countered his own mind, questioning himself, and trying to regain his sanity. At the same time, people of Venice were getting happier and happier with each passing day. Only one day left until the long waited event. Tailors had already finished intricate costumes, and their customers were eager to try them on. Musicians were rounding up their rehearsals, instruments already prepared for festivities. The entire city was anticipating celebration. The same couldn't be said about Ezio. The man dreaded the Carnival, for the reasons unbeknownst to himself.

The said man was making his way through one of the streets, quite near the piazza where he had an appointment the next day. Brushing past the merry crowd he stopped at one shop selling masks for the masquerade. Eyeing the whole assortment, the assassin picked up the white domino mask. It wasn't elaborate, but had a faint black eye lining. The mask reminded him of Altaïr. Inspecting the item a little bit more, he paid the shopkeeper and took his leave. Putting the mask in one of his inner pockets, Ezio contemplated whether Altaïr will accept his gift. Snorting to himself, he brushed his stupidity away. Italian won't take no for an answer, the Syrian will wear a mask; it was a tradition after all. And if Altaïr disapproves… well then, Ezio will have to make him to change his mind.

Day was replaced by night, and then the sun had once more taken the sky. However, morning was far from pleasant. The assassin wasn't feeling refreshed at all. Last night's sleep was uneasy for him. He had difficulty in shutting off his brain for the night. And so, now he was not in the mood, to say the least. Everything irritated him; the laughter of children, the cacophonic chattering of women or the squawking of passing seagulls. It's the day he had been looking forward for a whole year, and yet, it was little of what he imagined. His previous thoughts were also bugging him; a lot. He couldn't get rid off the idea, that Altaïr had already forgotten him, and that there is no way he was coming back. What if all he had said was false? What if he didn't come each year, what if it was just a coincidence, and he was tricked so easily? And he had put so much hope to a single day. It was impossible, this… relationship, if there could be any in the first place. If everything Altaïr had said was true, they would meet once in a year, and that would mean seeing each other for about forty days until their lives end. And yet again, it was a very naïve thought. Could their affair evolve into something so big that would consume their whole lifetime? Ah, everything was so complicated, and Ezio couldn't figure out what he had got himself into. Maybe it was better to finish this once and for all before he got attached to Altaïr. It was so easy to mount a horse and ride far away… But no; he was a man of promise, and so he shall face the Syrian. Ezio will meet Altaïr and tell him off. His heart dropped a little, yet he tried to reassure himself – it was for the best.

Few hours later, and various colorful creatures were making their appearance. It was so similar to the year before, and yet so different. Ezio hesitated going to the piazza. He was bracing himself, for the events to come. Pacing back and forth the assassin repeated the words he planned to tell Altaïr. Scheme in his head seemed pretty easy: Go to Altair, spill out the reason why this thing will not work out, support your speech with constructed arguments, tell goodbye, turn around and leave. Yes, that will suffice. What could go wrong? Nothing. He will deliver his speech, provided that the Syrian comes. What if he doesn't..? Hah! Pang. Even better. It would save him the effort. He gritted his teeth. That damned assassin… Putting on his red carnival mask from the year before, he strode with confidence towards the piazza, although ache of unknown source filled him.

Step after step he was getting closer and closer. The familiar path, he took exactly one year ago, greeted him. Same buildings and alleys, bridges and stairs; it all seemed like a memory or a long forgotten dream. Same music and cheers filled the air, same people acting same as before. Ezio felt like he never left this place, all of it was too well-known. He had to admit, Venetians were really good at decorating places. They had a sophisticated taste in colors and ornaments, and every detail seemed to fit its place perfectly. Finally he entered the square. As he expected, the environment here too, was more or less the same as in the previous year. The assassin scanned the crowd with his eagle vision, hoping to get straight to business.

No blue spots.

Something inside him dropped a little. So that's how it will be. He felt anger and disappointment rising up. His biggest fear was coming true. It seemed that Ezio was nothing but a toy, and what is worse, he made no effort in denying it. Ah, to hell with it. He had silly hopes and now they were shattered. Well good! Very good! From now on he will be free to do as he wished no more nervousness or bothersome thoughts. In fact, because Altaïr hadn't enough courage to show up, he will not have to recite that speech. Even better.

The next few seconds were a blur. Someone grabbed him harshly from behind knocking out his balance. Ezio was about to fall down, but they quickly grasped him by his biceps and with one quick movement threw into a nearby alley. Ezio let out a sharp cry when his back hit the wall, and soon he felt a breath near his ear. With a warm puff of air came a silent yet recognizable voice.

"Missed me?"

So the first chapter is out. Thank you all for reading, and have in mind that reviews spur the process of writing. :3