ASSASSIN OF THE OPERA

PROLOGUE

As usual, it was another beautiful day in Venice. The sun reigned pleasantly in the sky, children played in the streets, vendors clamored for attention, birds sang their sweet songs to any who would listen, and a pleasant breeze swept through the city, providing a wonderful environment.

With all of its serene beauty, it was difficult to believe all the dirty corruption and vile injustice that went on within Venice's walls. Ezio sighed and paused for a moment on the Venetian walkway. It was days like these he hated being an Assassin. On a day when life was blossoming everywhere around him, he despised being the one to take it away. But, he reasoned as he took a seat on a nearby marble bench, taking a moment from his vigil- the Templars were out there, and they didn't take a vacation just because it was nice out.

It was as he was contemplating his life there on that lonely bench that he first laid eyes on it. At a first glance, it was nothing but a simple piece of parchment nailed to a wall. Actually, he'd first assumed it to merely be another notice demanding his head- but it turned out to be much, much more…

Ezio scooted closer to the edge of the bench to get a better look at the sign. Peering at it from a distance, he could make out a picture of himself, but the words surrounding it offered no gaping reward. Finally, he pulled himself up in exasperation and marched across the walkway to get a closer look.

The notice was very loosely pinned, and it took him all of one second to tear it off the wall (with some glares from passersby, of course). As the Assassino read the parchment over he couldn't stop his eyes from widening or his jaw from dropping:

"THE ASSASSINO OF FLORENCE," The notice silently announced. Above the bold title was a hand-drawn charcoal portrait of a figure in a beaked hood, watching over the city of Venice gloomily. "PREMIER FIFTH NIGHT OF AUGUST, 1485."

Warily, Ezio noted that happened to be today's date.

Reading further on, he spotted credits and other information. The actors' names were not listed, though the playwright appeared to be one 'Luigi Bartoni', someone Ezio had never heard of. He shrugged and read on, skimming the detailed credits disinterestedly:

"Details of the Assassino's life gathered and compiled by Messer Bartoni from various sources, including a surprisingly intelligible group of musicians." It explained. Ezio raised an eyebrow.

After staring at the piece of paper a while longer, the Assassin folded it up and stowed it in one of the many compartments on his sash. Such a document may come in handy later on, he mused.

Although as he continued onward to the pigeon coop, he began to wonder…He had time. At the moment, Venezia did not seem to be in perilous danger; no tyrant dominated the citizens, no power-crazy warrior was slaughtering innocents. Why shouldn't he take a day off? And who knew- a relaxing night at the theatre might be good for him. Especially as he was the subject of the performance, he thought with a grin.

After a few more minutes' deliberation, Ezio finally decided. He turned on his heels, determinedly changing his course for Leonardo's studio. He couldn't see this play without his best friend- that would be far too boring. Besides, Leonardo couldn't miss out on all his glory and splendor! He just hoped the artist wouldn't be too busy…

He needn't have worried- As soon as he suggested the idea to Leo, and showed him the poster- he was all for it. Apparently, the inventor hadn't been to the theatre in a long time. Ezio never knew how much Leonardo enjoyed a good performance, but he wasn't about to complain.

To his surprise, Leonardo asked if anyone else was coming along. The Assassino thought about it for a while; but again Leonardo interrupted. The suggestion arose that he invite some associates of his from the thieves' guild. When asked about this, Leonardo politely pointed out one of the lines from the poster itself.

To his embarrassment, Ezio read it over and found he was not the only one in the play. Several of his friends, family, and enemies would be featured as well. In that case, he related to the inventor bashfully, it would only be fair to invite them along.

Rosa had laughed in his face, and Antonio promised he wouldn't miss it for the world. Ugo insisted he had no desire to go to a silly noblepersons' activity, but Ezio detected a hint of jealously. Wisely, he decided not to bring it up.

And so the group of four spent the rest of the day preparing. Ezio kept most of his wardrobe at Leonardo's studio while he was in Venezia, but there was still much to choose from. It had been a very long time since he had walked the streets hood-less.

It hadn't taken Leonardo very long to pick out a suitable outfit, but the man was forever distressed with his hair. Ezio had merely rolled his eyes and called his friend a girl, turning back to his own simple ponytail somewhat annoyed.

Antonio insisted Rosa would not go anywhere without a dress. At first she had been extremely opposed to the idea- she hated the thought of walking around with nothing on her legs. What if a sudden gust of wind came by? The very notion infused her with the desire to punch the nearest male in the nose.

However all that changed when she arrived at the tailor's shop. It was there she learned that a woman can wear a dress and still be beautiful. And so she let her mentor help her with the gown and all its ribbons and ties- then he attempted to wash her hair. She didn't like that either, but he reminded her what a strong-willed girl she was. And strong-willed girls didn't scream when someone came at their bush-tangled hair with a brush. Although there was plenty of cursing and thrown objects.

Finally, she was prepared. It didn't take Antonio too long to prepare himself, as he already had a set of noblemen's clothes in his drawers. Rosa had wanted to ask him about it, but he merely waved it off, saying it wasn't important. The female suspected it had something to do with his university days, but decided not to pursue the subject.

When the four met at Seta's gates to proceed to the theatre, they could hardly recognize each other. Of course, they had never attended a formal event together before, so it was to be expected, but it was still much of a shock.

Ezio and Rosa stared at each other for so long Antonio wondered when it would become appropriate for him to make himself a cup of coffee.

And at last, the time had come. They were off. It was tricky, getting all four of them to fit in a gondola, but that was how travel went in Venice. The trip to the theatre was mostly silent, as anxiety overruled conversation. Each was eager to hear his or her part in the performance, and even more eager to see who would portray them.

The large building finally appeared on the horizon, and everyone piled out of the small boat. The gondolier was paid, and the group waded into the stream of people attempting to enter the auditorium. Ezio had never felt so part of a crowd as he did then, though Rosa was having trouble lifting her skirts so often to keep moving. When she wasn't tripping she was swearing under her breath.

Finally they reached the doorway (which took them a while, as the line was long) and Ezio volunteered to pay the entrance fee. So long as he would eventually get paid back- there was a collective nod.

The atrium was huge, with hundreds of seats lining the balconies. Ezio had apparently dropped a big name at the doorway, as they were given impressive spots. Grinning and suggesting they thank him later, said Assassin worked on getting his colleagues into their respective seats and settled.

After about half an hour of sitting (and complaining, on Rosa's part: "do you nobles take this long to do everything?"), the lights around the theatre were extinguished and all attention was on the stage. A short little man with an oddly feathered hat scuttled his way to the center of the wooden platform and announced the title once again. He explained to the audience that this was a tale of thrill, tragedy, adventure, and romance. He went on briefly for another five minutes, handing out credits here and there, until finally he bowed and scooted his way offstage. There was a small round of applause before the audience's attention was refocused.

All watched intently as the curtain rose on act I of the Assassino of Florence…