Assassin's Creed: Revolution

Prologue

The morning day began breaking in. Just above the clouds were parting and the sun's skin shined brighter than it ever had before. An orange glow cascaded over the busy streets below. Shadows were shifted and light transformed. But below, havoc was being pursued.

A man sharply turned a corner. His clothing was odd; many bypassers staring at his choice of clothing.

His clothing consisted of a black trench-coat with crimson red lining going down the sleeves. His belt had a large silver buckle, and he also wore silver plates to protect both his shins and shoulders. He fashioned black pants and a top hat with gray lining. A black strap crossed over his left shoulder and went under his right. His spiny black gloves clasped onto the handle of his sword which was attached the same strap.

His face was muscular. A jagged chin and chiseled features, all the women looked back when they saw his sucked in cheeks. He wasn't an ugly man, but always seemed to have a women to spend the night with where ever he was.

He turned another corner, legs speeding up. His thighs began to ache but he continued to push through. To fool the man following him (who sped up as well) he purposely knocked himself into an innocent bystander. He pushed the bystander aside, wiping off his coat to make it seem like it was an accident. He continued walking and swiftly moved into an alleyway, guarded behind a group of people. His opponent was rattled, turning the wrong way.

He took grasp of a loosened brick on the side of a home, shrouded in secrecy by the darkness of the alley, it's shadows engulfed him. Though he had no problem climbing to the top of the house. Wherever his hand went there always seemed to be a place for it to rest on. When he did this he moved his right foot to the same spot his hand on been on, jumping up and latching on to the building. He pulled himself up and made long strides in order to cross it, leaping over to cross to another.

It felt like seconds as he swept over the tops of houses, slipping but rebalancing himself in only a quick moment. He stuck to the side of a tower and was able to climb upward to where he slumped over when he reached the top. Fortunately, a soft stack of hay was laid out for which he thought specifically for him, but this wasn't the case.

He rested his eye lids until he drew in short breaths into his burning lungs. Chest heaving, he got up from his back and stood a top the side of the tower with his chest proud.

The clouds seemed to glide over him, creating a spot in the sky where the light only shined on him. He wiped his coat clean from loose strands of hay and jumped back down.

His heart stopped. He fell face first and opened his arms in order to fall faster. The wind broke, a large gasp of air being forced into his throat when he opened his mouth. As his face rippled and his robes flew at the back of him, he landed, curling into a ball as he slammed into a stack of hay. The landing was soft, though his shoulder hit the ground causing a bit of a bruise.

He stood up from the hay and continued walking, flipping over his hood and peering into a large gathered cloud. He crept silently in between them, lost in the city streets.