Souls Through Time (EzioxOC/DesmondxOC)

Chapter 10 - Amelia

The night air carried a chill, biting through Amelia's cloak as she stood among the shadows of an old, crumbling church on the outskirts of Florence. The city behind them buzzed with tension—guards patrolled in greater numbers, their torches flickering like restless fireflies, illuminating the dark corners of the streets. Every distant shout or clatter of metal sent a jolt through her, a reminder of how little time they had. They couldn't afford a single mistake.

Giovanni's face was etched with a deep seriousness as he glanced between Ezio, Amelia, Maria, Claudia, and young Petruccio, who clung to his mother's side, his wide eyes reflecting the fear and uncertainty that hung over them all. Amelia's heart tightened at the sight of the boy. He was too young to carry the burden of loss that had been thrust upon him, and the weight of their escape plan seemed to press down on her shoulders even more heavily. Giovanni knew that their window was closing rapidly. The city was tightening its grip around them, and they needed to blend into the life of Florence if they were going to slip through its fingers.

"You two, stay close. Act like a young couple—keep your heads down and your pace steady. The guards will be looking for a family fleeing in panic, not for a pair of sweethearts taking a late-night stroll with their nephew," Giovanni instructed, his voice low but urgent. He turned to Ezio and Amelia, his gaze sharp and unwavering as if willing them to understand the gravity of the task.

Ezio's brow furrowed, a muscle jumping in his jaw as he opened his mouth to protest, but he caught the sternness in his father's gaze and swallowed his objections. His eyes flicked to Amelia, and she was already adjusting her cloak, a small, almost teasing smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She was trying to lighten the moment, to cut through the tension that clung to them like a shroud.

"Think you can manage that, Ezio? Try not to look like you're plotting a murder," Amelia quipped, her tone playful, but beneath the words, there was a hard edge, a reminder that their lives depended on this ruse.

Ezio shot her a look—half exasperated, half appreciative—but he managed a faint, wry smile. He took her arm, the gesture awkward at first, his fingers tense against hers, but Amelia squeezed his hand lightly, guiding him with the ease of someone who had played such roles before. She let her body lean against his, adding a softness to their movements, a casual familiarity that would hopefully fool any watchful eyes.

Giovanni gave them a final, approving nod before turning to Maria and Claudia. "We'll take another route through the marketplace. Stay close and move quickly when I signal. Claudia, keep your head covered." His voice held a note of reassurance, but Amelia could see the worry etched into the lines around his eyes. Maria clutched Claudia's hand, her knuckles white, while Claudia kept her face hidden beneath the folds of her hood, her lips pressed into a thin line of determination.

Petruccio looked up at his older brother, his small hands gripping a worn wooden toy, his eyes wide with uncertainty. Ezio knelt beside him, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder. "Stay close to me, little brother. We'll get through this," he promised, his voice gentler than Amelia had heard in days.

Petruccio nodded, his gaze flicking up to Amelia, who bent down to meet his eyes, offering a soft, encouraging smile. "I've got your back too, Petruccio. Just stay close, and everything will be alright," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, but warm with sincerity. She adjusted his cloak, tucking it more securely around him before rising to her feet.

With their roles decided, the group split up, fading into the darkness like shadows merging with the night. Giovanni led Maria and Claudia down a narrow alleyway, his steps quick and deliberate, while Ezio, Amelia, and Petruccio took a different path, weaving through the winding backstreets that led toward the city's edge. The cobblestones beneath their feet were uneven, slick with the dampness of the night, and Amelia kept her senses sharp, listening for the clink of armor or the low murmur of approaching guards.