"Il mio amico! Si prega di calmarmi!" = My friend, please calm down! "E 'bene, Ezio. Tu sei a casa ora." = It's okay, Ezio. You are home now." "Ancora non riesco a capire? Ti do un suggerimento - ho messo i tempi di lama molte." = Still haven't figured it out? I'll give you a hint - I crafted your blade many times.
-----
It seemed like he had barely breathed the word before his eyes were opening of their own, flinching at the light before it was blocked by a smiling face and a halo of golden hair, complete with crimson artist's cap. "Si, I am here Ezio. How do you feel?"
Ezio felt his heart stop and re-start in his chest, mouth opening but voice refusing to work. "...Y-you... can't be real."
Leonardo tilted his head, a look of confusion schooling his features. "And why ever not, my friend? To my knowledge I am as real as you or your father."
"My father is dead."
"Yes, and so I am. Just as you are now."
Ezio's eyes went wide. Dead? But when did--
Oh. OH, the vineyard! He remembered now. The light, the darkness, the memories... but that didn't explain how he could be... well, how he could exist!
"How am I still here, then? Is Death not supposed to be final? The end? No more?" he asked of the artist, who was pulling up a small stool in order to take a spot beside him.
"Oh, I would not say that. Death is not so final, it turns out. Those of us that require rest and peace take it here, while those that are ready to begin again head off for rebirth. Both your father and I begged your case for many weeks before they decided to allow you rest - they said a soul as strong as yours could be of great use in the world."
He chuckled suddenly, pressing fingers to his lips, unconsciously drawing Ezio's attention in the process. The assassin found his eyes lingering and a dry sort of heat coming up to grip his throat. Why was his mouth so dry? "Of course, once Petruccio stepped in and batted his eyes, there was little they could do. Your brother is very determined when he needs to be. I guess he got that from you, no?"
Ezio nodded, trying and failing to tear his eyes away from Leonardo's mouth. He needed to lay down, roll over and go back to sleep before the consequences of this visit got to him. He didn't need to scare Leonardo off with his debauchery, especially not now that he was here in... in... where was he again?
"Does this place have a name? Or am I simply to call it 'the end' while I am here?" He asked. Leonardo smiled.
"Those of us who linger merely call it Paradise friend, for there is nothing here to want that you cannot get. Perhaps best of all is that it looks just like our Venice on Earth! It is beautiful Ezio; I know you will come to enjoy it like I have." His features got dreamy all of a sudden, and Ezio felt a small pang of jealousy towards the place.
It was only then that he noticed Leonardo's features - to be more precise, how very young he looked. Frowning, Ezio rose, forcing himself upright for a better look. "Leonardo?"
"Hmm?" Snapped out of his daydreams, the artist looked to him.
"How are you so young? Your appearance reminds me of the first days I became an assassin, not the later years I was trying to strike the Borgia down."
Leonardo nodded. "I do not understand it fully myself, but the best I can explain it is this - here, we are given the appearance of youth while keeping the peak of our strength. For you, I imagine that means you look like a twenty-year man, but you have the strength of your older years. I do not know when you hit your physical peak."
"Thirty," Ezio answered effortlessly. Gingerly he closed his fist and moved his arm; the muscles responded with no pain whatsoever, the grip tight and unyielding while the muscles held firm. Truly it seemed he had his old strength. Of course it would be best if he could get outside and do a little running to test it...
Leonardo must have read the want in his eyes, because he chuckled. "Ah, you haven't changed at all, my friend. Come! Let us get you something to eat, so that you may dress yourself and soar through the skies of Venice once more, hmm? Your parents have been waiting for you, and your brothers, oh, how they've longed to hear you regale your adventures to them! Especially Petruccio - he asked me to thank you for the feathers, by the by."
"That sounds like an excellent plan, Leonardo. And maybe you can fill me in on how you've been since we parted ways. I imagine you have a number of stories to tell."
Leonardo smiled, pulling a bowl of warm broth from seemingly out of nowhere and handing to to the assassin. "But of course, Ezio. The only question is which you would like to hear first."
FILL: Our Paradise 3/?
"Il mio amico! Si prega di calmarmi!" = My friend, please calm down!
"E 'bene, Ezio. Tu sei a casa ora." = It's okay, Ezio. You are home now."
"Ancora non riesco a capire? Ti do un suggerimento - ho messo i tempi di lama molte." = Still haven't figured it out? I'll give you a hint - I crafted your blade many times.
-----
It seemed like he had barely breathed the word before his eyes were opening of their own, flinching at the light before it was blocked by a smiling face and a halo of golden hair, complete with crimson artist's cap. "Si, I am here Ezio. How do you feel?"
Ezio felt his heart stop and re-start in his chest, mouth opening but voice refusing to work. "...Y-you... can't be real."
Leonardo tilted his head, a look of confusion schooling his features. "And why ever not, my friend? To my knowledge I am as real as you or your father."
"My father is dead."
"Yes, and so I am. Just as you are now."
Ezio's eyes went wide. Dead? But when did--
Oh. OH, the vineyard! He remembered now. The light, the darkness, the memories... but that didn't explain how he could be... well, how he could exist!
"How am I still here, then? Is Death not supposed to be final? The end? No more?" he asked of the artist, who was pulling up a small stool in order to take a spot beside him.
"Oh, I would not say that. Death is not so final, it turns out. Those of us that require rest and peace take it here, while those that are ready to begin again head off for rebirth. Both your father and I begged your case for many weeks before they decided to allow you rest - they said a soul as strong as yours could be of great use in the world."
He chuckled suddenly, pressing fingers to his lips, unconsciously drawing Ezio's attention in the process. The assassin found his eyes lingering and a dry sort of heat coming up to grip his throat. Why was his mouth so dry? "Of course, once Petruccio stepped in and batted his eyes, there was little they could do. Your brother is very determined when he needs to be. I guess he got that from you, no?"
Ezio nodded, trying and failing to tear his eyes away from Leonardo's mouth. He needed to lay down, roll over and go back to sleep before the consequences of this visit got to him. He didn't need to scare Leonardo off with his debauchery, especially not now that he was here in... in... where was he again?
"Does this place have a name? Or am I simply to call it 'the end' while I am here?" He asked. Leonardo smiled.
"Those of us who linger merely call it Paradise friend, for there is nothing here to want that you cannot get. Perhaps best of all is that it looks just like our Venice on Earth! It is beautiful Ezio; I know you will come to enjoy it like I have." His features got dreamy all of a sudden, and Ezio felt a small pang of jealousy towards the place.
It was only then that he noticed Leonardo's features - to be more precise, how very young he looked. Frowning, Ezio rose, forcing himself upright for a better look. "Leonardo?"
"Hmm?" Snapped out of his daydreams, the artist looked to him.
"How are you so young? Your appearance reminds me of the first days I became an assassin, not the later years I was trying to strike the Borgia down."
Leonardo nodded. "I do not understand it fully myself, but the best I can explain it is this - here, we are given the appearance of youth while keeping the peak of our strength. For you, I imagine that means you look like a twenty-year man, but you have the strength of your older years. I do not know when you hit your physical peak."
"Thirty," Ezio answered effortlessly. Gingerly he closed his fist and moved his arm; the muscles responded with no pain whatsoever, the grip tight and unyielding while the muscles held firm. Truly it seemed he had his old strength. Of course it would be best if he could get outside and do a little running to test it...
Leonardo must have read the want in his eyes, because he chuckled. "Ah, you haven't changed at all, my friend. Come! Let us get you something to eat, so that you may dress yourself and soar through the skies of Venice once more, hmm? Your parents have been waiting for you, and your brothers, oh, how they've longed to hear you regale your adventures to them! Especially Petruccio - he asked me to thank you for the feathers, by the by."
"That sounds like an excellent plan, Leonardo. And maybe you can fill me in on how you've been since we parted ways. I imagine you have a number of stories to tell."
Leonardo smiled, pulling a bowl of warm broth from seemingly out of nowhere and handing to to the assassin. "But of course, Ezio. The only question is which you would like to hear first."