Assassin's Creed: To The Sky

To The Sky

Mr. Ospreay, we have not been formally introduced... My name is Ezio Auditore da Firenze...

The thick fog of London hung like a veil over the city, muffling the sounds of bustling streets below him. He moved silently through the maze of rooftops, a rogue Assassin they would call him. One that would blend with the shadows, but had not officially taken the creed. His dark red robes billowed with each swift movement, swift and unheard as every assassin should be. His face, half-hidden beneath the hood, remained focused, eyes scanning the rooftops and alleyways below as his boots softly tapped on the stone ledges. The city was alive with the hum of carriages, street vendors, and the occasional cry of a stray dog, but none of this could pierce his concentration.

I have heard of the legend of the rogue assassin who follows the creed...

He still remembers that letter he had received form the messenger bird, the words written by the legendary assassin that belong to the creed still echoed in his mind. But even with those whispers in his head, he still was focused on the job he had placed upon himself. Perched atop a chimney, he crouched low, hidden from the view of anyone below. He inhaled deeply, his senses heightened as he surveyed his surroundings. To his left, the Thames river cut through the city like a silver ribbon, glinting in the fading sunlight. In the distance to his north, Big Ben towered over the streets, casting long shadows across the cobblestone roads. Every building, every alley, was a potential escape route or a potential ambush, something that he should definitely keep in mind.

The life you have led has been vast, born of this very soil... England.

He kept looking for his target, his eyes like an eagle. He may not be part of the Creed, but he sure could at least follow their code. He had done so for many years, and he was not stopping now. His target should be there soon enough, his eyes overlooking the street that the Templar should be walking through in a short moment. And it was a few seconds later that the assassin's eyes narrowed as he spotted his target.

Its fog absorbed into your skin, its way of life in your soul... It was here that you found your calling...

He immediately saw a slightly tall man, dressed in a tailored white suit with a red cross hanging over his neck. He knew, right there and then, that the man that had just walked in was his target. He could see just how the confidence rolled out of him, and he would have sworn that the templar was egotistically expressing just how no one could touch him. He even saw just how his classic, clean-cut hairstyle, which was a bit bushy at the top, swayed with the cold breeze of London. But soon, he would show the templar that he would be the one to rid him of the land that the templar had corrupted.

And that calling drew you to a land where the sun rises on the Earth...

He kept stalking his target, allowing himself to study the scene that he was currently looking at. He could see just how two guards flanked the Templar, their eyes trained on the bustling crowds, unaware of the danger that he presented to all three of them. The Templar's back was turned to the narrow alleys that snaked between the buildings, which gave him a small chance. Though one that he decided to wait upon, all because he wanted to rid London of the filth the Templars are does not mean that he should be hasty about it.

And in the steps of Japanese legends, you took to the skies and became a warrior... Elevated above them all!

But as soon as he saw the trio get deeper into the alley, he swiftly approached his target yet never making contact. He could feel just how the moment was drawing near, his vast training in Japan had borne fruits. But he could not stay in Japan any longer, an Assassin was already there protecting the people. One that was a part of the Creed and have even offered him a chance to join himself. But he couldn't allow himself to be tied down by the Creed. He supports the mission, but he didn't want to be distracted from the path he had chosen, a path that had led him to the man he was going to shortly kill.

But soon, greater challenges awaited you on the shores of your land... One more region to conquer...

The Assassin moved swiftly now, like a shadow slithering through the rooftops. He leaped from one ledge to another, making sure to stay out of sight as he closed the distance between himself and his target. The wind carried the faint scent of smoke and wet stone, but nothing could distract him from his objective. He waited, poised on the edge of a building, his hidden blade glinting as the Templar began to wander away from the crowd, gesturing for his guards to stay behind. The Assassin smiled grimly beneath his hood; his target had made the mistake of leaving his safety behind. The perfect moment was approaching.

Yet here is where you lost your course and the weapons you possess have been forsaken... Plagued by the crimes of a false patriot that seeks to destroy England, with doubt clouding your mission...

The Templar strode into a narrow alley, still unaware that he had been tracking his every movement. His polished boots clicked against the cobblestones, the sound echoing faintly and gave him something to follow. The Assassin's feet were silent as he dropped from the rooftop, landing gracefully behind the Templar. He moved like a wraith, closing the distance in a few swift strides.

But, on this night, where your journey began, you must remember what made you... For all the paths you have traveled, all you have killed...

There was no warning, no sound, as his blade flashed in the dim light, plunging into the Templar's back with deadly precision. The Templar gasped, and he could feel the body stiffening, watching just how the wide eyes, expressing shock and pain, and holding the templar in place as the man struggled to turn and see him. He placed the templar on the ground, his hood billowing softly because of the cold and foggy winds, which gave the dying man a look at his face. He held him firm, looking straight into the fading eyes of the templar. His eyes moved for a second, watching the now bloodied checkered scarf that the templar had around the neck simply cut in two because of his actions.

Now, more than ever before, seek the wisdom of our Creed revealed in these words...

"Requiescant in pace..." It were the three words that escaped from his lips, as he kept on watching how the false patriot fell into the shadows of death. The body went limp on his arms, the small light that the eyes held fading away completely. He moved his hidden blade, sheathing them back into their resting place. Those words were the least he could say for the fallen templar. He may not have agreed with his view, but he was alive and deserved the least amount of respect.

We work in the dark to serve the light... We. Are. Assassins!

The Assassin stood over his target for a moment, still watching the cold body even after he had watched the last breath escape the man's lips. Without a sound, the Assassin melted back into the darkness, already vanishing from the scene as though he had never been there. London carried on, none the wiser, as the Assassin disappeared into the night. And while he still had other places to go, he would always look over the land that had seen him rise from the ground up and into the man he now was.