Hi!

Really awesome you clicked on this story, I am really curious what people might think of it because there is no Assassin of the games involved (some get mentioned). Only my own characters appear. So yeah. That.

Uhm... yeah. If some of you came for a history lesson I have to disappoint you. I made this all up lolz. Also, I kind of know how this story will go, so, that. Oh and I am curious if you guys like it - so if you do I will continue. If not... I will probably continue anyway. x] I have this thing going on where I am writing every night before bed, if I am not too tired.

It takes place in Greece around 1500.

My native language is not English, so I apologize in advance for mistakes that have yet to come.

Reviews are always welcome.

Have a good one and enjoy!

I do not own Assassin's Creed.

The air felt stuffy as the sun shone fiercely down on the dusty ground of Athens. Vitoria, a young woman, was making her way towards the suburbs of the city. In her hands she held a simple basket filled with food. The market had been standing on the plaza, as it did every week, and she was asked to get some food with the money her father had earned.

Vitoria wiped away a drop of sweat that was making its way down her forehead. The heat was killing her, lately. She was already aware of the fact that she wouldn't sleep well tonight. Her father probably wouldn't either.

The woman walked into the street where filthy people were sitting on the ground against their wooden front doors, some of them were even enjoying the sun. She greeted them as she walked by because she knew them. She had been living in the poorest part of Athens for most of her life.

A little further on the road she was walking on, a few decent houses were left. She lived in one of them. They were mostly made of wood, though.

The young woman opened up the front door to a small room where coats were hanging and shoes neatly placed. They didn't have a lot of coats nor shoes so it was a little empty.

"I'm home!" she chirped while – without even looking into the living room – entering the small hallway that was decorated with paintings. It were paintings of daily places like the court of justice in Athens. The majestic building covered almost the whole painting. At the bottom y a couple of heads, walking in any direction, could be seen. She was told that it was just a normal day in Athens. That's what her father liked about it and, therefore, bought it. This was way back when he still had the money to buy such luxury.

His favourite was a painting painted years ago. On the left side a tree with soft pink leaves could be seen. Behind the tree there was a lake and on the lake floated a simple wooden boat. A woman and a little girl were sitting on it. The woman smiled while the girl curiously had bent over the edge so that her tiny fingers could reach the water.

Vitoria remembered that day. She had only been four years old. Her father had wanted a painting of the two he most loved (that, of course, was also the name of the painting). It had been a sunny day and she hadn't been able to sit still for a second, to the annoyance of the painter. Her father had told her that it was worth it. And now, it was. It was the only image of her mother they had left. Due to that painting she remembered her mother's face.

The woman moved on and placed the basket on the kitchen counter. She started to put the things she bought in the right places.

"I am glad you're home. I'd like you to meet someone."

Vitoria heard the sound of heavy boots walking through the hallway and the sound seemed familiar to her. It reminded her of the men of the City Watch.

She turned around to see her father, a man with a serious but friendly face and a trimmed beard. He was wearing simple clothes – not the fancy ones he had to wear to his work. The men next to him was an inch taller than her father. He was wearing plate armour. He had a sword established onto his belt, a red tabard with the symbol of the King – a griffin lined with Gold Dust, a rare type of cloth. He had brown eyes, a nose that was a little too big for his face and a wide mouth. The man looked older than her father. He had no scars on his face, but he did have a rough skin.

The man smiled and looked, overall, friendly.

"This is Arastoo Bronte, head of the City Watch. Arastoo, this is Vitoria. My daughter." Her father gave the two a glance.

"Nice to meet you, Vitoria." The man bowed before her to show her some respect. Important men did that to noble women. She didn't consider herself noble.

She smiled, kind of, not knowing what else to do. "Likewise, sir." Vitoria looked lost and her father noticed.

"Arastoo and I grew up in the same neighbourhood. He is a friend." He explained with a rich voice and Vitoria thanked him, without saying a word, for the explanation.

She glanced back towards Arastoo. "Well, I presume it must have been hard growing up with my father."

The man burst out in a hearty laugh while her father looked betrayed. "Finally, someone who understands the struggle." He got a poke from her father and Vitoria saw for the first time in many years the child-side of her father.

"Aren't we all getting along with each other. Nice. Didn't you have to go somewhere, Arastoo?" Her father gave the man an expectant glance and Arastoo chuckled.

"I did, Nicon," he said quasi-oblivious. His brown eyes darted towards her and he winked. "Goodbye, Vitoria."

Vitoria nodded and watched as the two walked down the hallway. Arastoo patted her father on the shoulder and waited a moment while Nicon rushed back into the living room to get something.

Vitoria was about to turn around, but got a glimpse of the thing her father gave to Arastoo. It was a sealed envelope. She wondered what was inside while her father said his goodbyes to Arastoo. Then she accepted it was her father's business and not hers. She acquiesced.

The woman put the last few things in place while her father closed the door.

Nicon was a man of honesty and equality. He had the right morals but the wrong job. Her father was one of the King's counsellors and always complaining about the man. Her father was known for his behaviour towards the King. Well, it was only one incident a long time ago where he spoke his mind – and his mind hadn't been kind towards the King. The King wanted to raise taxes and her father knew that this wasn't going to make the people happy (a lot of them were already poor). Also, the change wasn't necessary. Not for Greece's sake. For the King's sake, surely, and the noble men of Greece. But not Greece. So her father told the King the truth – which the King could've hanged him for. Her father, though, had done good things for the King and Greece in the past, so he wasn't executed. The King told him after he had spoke his mind: "If you like the citizens that much, you would, surely, pay these taxes."

So he did. And he was still doing this. For some reason, they didn't have a lot of money in the first place. And with those taxes they could barely make it through a week. But they managed. The King, however, didn't forget the words her father had spoken. Even though her father had done all these good things, the King didn't like him. This was reflected in his salary. But her father didn't care about the money. He cared about Greece. And its people. He wouldn't let the other counsellors, and the King himself, get to him. Without him, Greece would be ruled by a bunch of moneygrubbers.

"You know, I was thinking about getting a job," she said serious, still facing the kitchen counter. She heard her father stopping abruptly in his steps.

"Excuse me?" He wasn't a fan of Vitoria working. Actually, they had this conversation countless of times. She wanted to help out and for some reason he didn't want that.

He walked over to her.

"Yes. I was thinking, maybe I could work in that brothel. Sophia says it's really fancy and a good payment." Vitoria turned around to face her father who had a shocked expression on his face. She tried not to laugh, but she couldn't hold it in. His face was too darn funny.

When Nicon realized it was a joke, he was relieved. "You had me there," he said, closing his eyes for a second to let it all sink in.

"I'm surprised you fell for it. You're a counsellor, aren't you supposed to be good in detecting lies?" She quirked a brow.

"Well, we're better in spreading lies than detecting them. But, for what it's worth, you are a good liar. I believed you." They walked towards the small living room which consisted of a dinner table and two not-so comfortable couches. They sat at the table. A lot of papers were placed on it and Nicon shoved them away.

"You should go and see Sophia tomorrow, she's probably wondering where you've hid yourself for the past weeks."

Vitoria smiled at the thought of her friend. Sophia was about the same age as Vitoria, but her life was much more complicated. She was working – for a couple of years now – at Anastasia's House of Pleasure, a fancy brothel located in the heart of Athens. The only reason she was doing that was because of the money. After the death of her father, she felt like she had to take care of her mother and brother.

"Yes. I should. Tomorrow I will visit her."

Alvar

With his arms crossed he watched the streets of Athens. He was standing on a rooftop, just observing the crowd. Behind him lay a guard of the City Watch, knocked out and not even close to consciousness. The Assassin wasn't assigned to do anything. His Mentor had taught him it was sometimes best to just observe how the citizens reacted, how they spent their days. It was important to know these things when he did get assigned a task.

"You really knocked the shit out of this guy huh, Alvar?" A voice pulled him out of his thoughts. He didn't have to turn around to know who it was. Ion Patron, a fellow Assassin and considered friend.

"You know, Ion, I was doing something here," he said with a sigh.

Ion walked over to his friend and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. His eyes were covered by his hood, but his smile was visible. "I know. Standing is really important. I just wanted to make conversation, mate."

Alvar brushed with his left hand the fingers of his friend off. "Dryas and Leon aren't here, too, I hope?" He gazed questioningly towards the Assassin with the brown/red Assassin uniform.

Ion shook his head. "Nah, they were searching for food."

Alvar's eyes drifted back to the citizens who were still walking and shoving each other out of the way. Some were sitting against houses, others weren't in such a hurry. He took it all in. "Why doesn't that surprise me?" he replied.

The Assassin took in a deep breath and finally turned to Ion. "I'm heading back."

He walked over the rooftop and jumped down in an alley. He disappeared in the crowds. Alvar made sure that the City Watch didn't notice him. The base of operations for the Assassin Order was located on an isolated hill in Athens. It looked like a big, white mansion and it was a big, white mansion. As if someone could live in it. But the backyard was transformed into a trainings ground. So they could practice combat in the trainings ring without anyone noticing. A library was located in the mansion as well. Of course, the main thing was to do what the Mentor said, obey him, listen to him and learn from him. When he asked you to do something, you did it without question.

From afar the mansion already caught Alvar's eye. The citizens of Athens didn't bother to look around anymore, they didn't give a damn what was happening in that mansion, who lived in that mansion. They were afraid of the City Watch. Afraid that they might have done something wrong in the eyes of the king. That was the reason why no one stuck their noses in other people's business – it was fear that held everyone in their place.

The mansion was a gigantic, white building with pillars. It was standing on a hill, isolated from the other houses of Athens.

Alvar walked up the hill. The ground was dusty and dry. The sun shone fierce and he felt his skin almost burn. It was a really beautiful and old building with a lot of secrets. The man turned around to see the city laying beneath him, peacefully.

The entrance doors were major and white, accented with gold lines. Alvar entered and in front of him appeared a new pair of doors that lead to the library. If he looked right, the hallway he was standing in lead to a winding stairs made of stone and a door, located next to the steps, that lead to the kitchen. If he looked left, the hallway lead to a various of doors which were chambers of Assassins. The hallway took a right turn eventually.

He went left and walked past the chambers. Some of the doors were open, most of them weren't. He went outside, into the backyard, and immediately the sound of swords parrying each other could be heard. Assassins were training in the trainings ring, they were doing push ups on the ground, or were assassinating training dummies.

Then you had the two men who were sitting on the rooftop of the guesthouse (the guesthouse only consisted of more chambers for Assassins), eating. One Assassin was wearing a black uniform, the other one was wearing a brown/dark blue uniform.

Dryas Xanthos and Leon Lethos.

Alvar sighed upon the sight and walked until he was standing quite near (almost under) the two men. "It is quite a nice day. Why aren't you doing something meaningful?" He quirked a brow even though that wasn't visible due to the shadow caused by his hood.

Leon, the man with a stubble beard and the dark blue uniform, was the first who looked down and noticed him. "We are doing something meaningful. We are making sure that we do not starve to death," he replied matter-of-factly while taking another bite of the fruit he was eating.

"You would be surprised how many citizens of Athens die of starvation. Most of them in the suburbs," Dryas mumbled between bites.

Alvar sighed again, not willing to say one more thing about it. He knew better than to stand between Dryas and his food. That was akin to a death wish.

"Oh, Alvar..." Dryas called after him as he walked away to do something meaningful. "Adonai wanted to see you."

Alvar held up two fingers to let his friend know he heard him while he adjusted his path towards the mansion, not looking back once.

Adonai, the Mentor, was most of the time retreated in the library. But he, too, could be found on the rooftops of Athens.

The Assassin was back in the hallway, standing in front of the doors that lead to the library. The doors were mostly made of wood, metal and gold. He inhaled deeply before entering.