Souls Through Time (EzioxOC/DesmondxOC)

Chapter 17 - Amelia

June 30 1501

The night air was crisp as Amelia rode through the winding streets of Rome, the echoes of her escape still fresh in her mind. The stone bridge receded behind her, and the shadows of the Castello faded into the distance, but the adrenaline from her narrow escape pulsed through her veins like fire. She could hardly believe that she was free—free from Lucrezia's torment, free from the confines of her cell.

As she urged her horse forward, the city lights flickered like stars against the dark sky, illuminating her path to Isola Tiberina. Despite the pain in her leg and the exhaustion that weighed heavily on her, a surge of hope filled her heart. Ezio had promised he would come for her, and now they were both free, each riding towards the promise of safety and sanctuary. With each hoofbeat, Amelia reflected on her journey—the months of darkness, the isolation, and the torment that had threatened to consume her.

The image of Lucrezia's cruel smile lingered in her mind, but so too did the warmth of Ezio's embrace, his fierce determination to protect her. He had faced danger head-on, and now, she could feel his presence with her, guiding her forward. As they crossed the ancient bridge, memories of her time at the Castello surged within her. The stone walls that had held her captive, the cries of guards, and the echo of Lucrezia's taunts played like a haunting melody. But she had survived. She had fought back, and in doing so, she had reclaimed a part of herself that she feared was lost forever.

The night was alive with sounds—the rustle of leaves, the distant laughter of revelers, and the gentle lapping of water against the riverbank. It was a stark contrast to the silence of her cell, where despair had once wrapped around her like a suffocating shroud. Now, she breathed in the fresh air, letting it fill her lungs, a reminder of her vitality and resilience. As she neared the island, the outlines of buildings emerged against the moonlit sky. She spotted a familiar figure waiting near the entrance—La Volpe. Relief washed over her as she dismounted, doing her best to land on her good leg. She leaned heavily on the horse, trying to compensate for the broken leg.

Amelia steadied herself as she approached La Volpe, the adrenaline from her escape slowly ebbing away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of gratitude and relief. His familiar figure was a beacon of hope amidst the shadows.

"Signora Tessaro," La Volpe greeted her, his voice laced with warmth and concern. "I had feared we would never see you again."

"Believe me, I had my doubts too," Amelia replied, her voice shaking slightly. "But I made it."

La Volpe stepped closer, scanning her with a sharp gaze. "You look worse for wear. We need to get you inside and tended to immediately." He offered his arm for support, and Amelia took it gratefully, allowing him to guide her through the entrance and into the dimly lit hideout.

The air inside was thick with the scent of leather and oil, mingled with the faint aroma of herbs. The walls were adorned with maps, weapons, and various relics that spoke of the Brotherhood's history. As they moved deeper into the hideout, Amelia felt a sense of belonging envelop her, a stark contrast to the cold isolation of her cell.

La Volpe led her to a small chamber filled with comfortable furnishings. "Sit here," he instructed, gesturing to a sturdy chair. "I'll fetch a doctor."

"Thank you," Amelia said, sinking into the chair with a sigh of relief. The weight of exhaustion began to settle in her bones as she closed her eyes for a brief moment. She could hardly believe she was here, surrounded by allies and away from the darkness of the Castello.

While La Volpe disappeared down a corridor, Amelia took a moment to collect herself. She could still feel the remnants of pain from her injuries, a reminder of the trials she had endured. But it was nothing compared to the joy of being free. She could hear the soft murmurs of the other Assassins in the next room, their voices a soothing balm to her weary soul.