Here it goes, the first chapter. I hope you will enjoy it, as it clarifies things a bit, but ONLY a bit! ;)
Good reading!

Chapter 1

Casa, Dolce Casa

The last thing she remembered was that the bacon had been too salty and the bread had been stale. Then, it was only darkness. Well, she had had to pass out obviously, luckily being on the bed, as she was lying on her back, staring at the white ceiling above, feeling soft mattress beneath. After a few minutes she decided to get up. She placed her feet on the ground and rose.

Lara glanced around just to realize it wasn't her hotel room. The walls were covered in red and gold, and the room itself was much bigger than she remembered. She scratched herself and hesitantly approached the big window. Through it, she saw hundreds of buildings: houses, shops, taverns. And a small, round arena where some men in odd uniforms were fighting against each other. One particular man stood out from the crowd. He was wearing ornately decorated robe and a long, brown cape with a coat of arms. On the left half of it there was something what could be considered as a bird, probably eagle. The right half was striped.

The man turned towards the building and their eyes met. He had a long scar, running down his face from his left eyebrow to the middle of his cheek, and through his eye, making him blind in it. Lara could see sorrow on his face, yet he smiled to her weakly. She returned the smile, not really knowing why. She simply felt the need to encourage the man somehow.

Suddenly, she heard a soft whisper from behind. The woman turned around and saw a mature-looking lady with a black bun on her head, sitting on the bed. Lara inhaled loudly.

"I'm sorry, I haven't seen you," she apologized.

There was no reply, except the woman didn't stop whispering. Lara began to slowly walk towards her. Finally she stood right in front of her.

"Excuse me, could you tell me where am I?" she asked politely.

The woman was still whispering to herself.

"Excuse me, can you hear me?" she waved with her palm before the woman's eyes. She didn't react. Then Lara noticed a wooden chaplet. The beads were moving swiftly between her fingers as she kept saying the rosemary.

Lara decided not to interrupt her further and stepped away. The girl rubbed her eyes and looked around to find the door to the bathroom. She found lack of it. Luckily, there was a bowl and a jug in the corner of the room. She came closer and noticed some water in the ewer. She smiled and washed her face. Then she glanced into her reflexion visible in the bowl, which was still containing water. She didn't find anything unusual in her appearance, maybe her complexion was slightly darker, and she could see more ginger streaks in her hair. She considered it as a trick of light, though. Then she placed her look on her neck and she realized she was wearing a long, white nightdress with a very daring plunging neckline. It embarrassed her a little and speeded up her decision to dress up in something else.

By the bed, there was a big wardrobe. The woman approached it and opened the door. Inside, there were hundreds of multiple gowns, all ornamented with gold and silver. They didn't look like from modern times, though; rather from Renaissance or Middle Ages. She browsed through the wardrobe's content for a while, trying to find something more suitable, jeans and T-shirt, for example, but she wasn't able to find anything but dresses, not even a single pair of trousers. She uttered a deep sigh and chose a nice, cream gown with red sleeves and golden floral patterns. Miss Croft hated to wear dresses, but she had no choice; she couldn't walk out in this suggestive nightdress, she had to change.

To be perfectly honest, changing hadn't really helped much. The dress had a low neckline as well, and the cut showed off her slender waistline and full hips. Lara sighed and decided to go, not really caring that she was on her bare feet, as she hadn't been able to find any shoes. She left the room hesitantly, almost stalking. The woman directed her footsteps towards the stairs visible in the distance and walked down them. Downstairs, there was another man. His hair was long and black as well and he had a brown cape just like the man in the courtyard. The difference was that this man had no coat of arms on his cape; it was plain.

He turned his face to the sunlight, and Lara noticed another difference: he was very young, much younger than the man with a scar (he could be considered as a boy, not a man) and quite handsome. He wasn't her type, but he could appeal women. She was sure he was.

A moment later he placed his gaze on the girl and smiled broadly, yet he couldn't hide the tears in his eyes. He dashed towards her and took her in his arms, hugging. Lara was staying as a pillar of salt, stiff and rigid, with her arms by her side, gently trying to free herself from the clasp. She didn't want to hurt this young man, but she didn't like it when someone completely strange to her trespassed her personal space.

"Mio Dio, Larissa," he whispered to her ear, but not the way one spoke to their lover; rather to family member, brother or sister. But that wasn't the timbre of his voice that surprised her at first; what truly stroke her was the name he had used: Larissa.

"Hey, um-" she uttered, "my name is Lara, not Larissa."

The man laughed. "You're always insisting on using this form, aren't you?"

"Well, I-" she tried to finish but he hushed her.

"All right, sorella, let it be. I will try to call you Lara from now. But I cannot promise you anything."

Now Lara's world turned upside down. Sorella? Sister? No way!

"Hey, I'm not your sister!" she yelled and tried to push the man away. After a small tussle, she was still held by him. She wanted him to release her hands, but she had to give in, breathing heavily. "Who the hell are you?"

To her surprise, he remained extremely calm. "Listen, you are still shocked. I think you should go back upstairs, to our mother and keep her company."

Their mother? That was too much for her. "Now you listen! I don't know where am I, why am I here, or what's going on." With every question she was coming one step closer to him. "But I want to get out of here, and such imbecile like you will not stop me! Now let me go!" she tried to push him again, but failed as well; he was too heavy and strong, even for her.

"No," he said blandly.

"No?"

"No. I will not let you go. You could harm yourself."

"Either me or you, make a choice."

"Bene. You can hit me if you like, but I will not let you go."

"Okay," she agreed and swiped him round his head.

"Ouch, it hurt!" he cried out, touching his temple.

"What are you doing here, nipote?" a man ran inside and split them up. Lara realized it was the same man from the arena. "Are you both out of your minds?"

"Uncle, Larissa is still not very well. She wanted to go out. I was afraid she could hurt herself so I didn't let her leave," the younger man explained.

The older one glowered at him. "And you're surprised? She's just lost her father and brothers and has to take care of her mother. How could she be well?" he asked harshly. "Some fresh air will serve her well, let her go."

"But, Uncle, there's something more. She doesn't remember me, or the Villa. I am sure she doesn't remember you or madre as well." He took a glance at Lara, then at the other man. "It shouldn't be like it."

"She's still in shock. Don't worry, Ezio, her memory will come back, I assure you." He placed his big palm on his nephew's shoulder. "Still, she is in better condition than your mother," he sighed. "For now, we can help her by telling the story of our family. This is going to refresh her memory. Let's go outside. Larissa?" he grabbed her hand and led her to the doorway. Ezio, sulky and sour, plodded behind.

On the courtyard, there were some stone benches. The three of them sat down on one, one man on each side of the girl, and she finally had a chance to look around the place. It was truly amazing. The building they had come from was an old villa, huge, with walls covered in windows and decors. The house and the yard itself were on the hill, with the arena slightly below and the rest of the buildings at the very foot of it. All the three levels of the town were linked with several sets of stairs. Everything was giving the impression of a solid, staunch construction, ready to serve its residents for many years more, just as it had for previous centuries.

The trio was sitting quietly. The blind man was first to break the embarrassing silence. "So, my dear Larissa, how are you?"

She glanced at him. "Why do you care?"

"Well, you're my niece after all. And I want to help you to recover from this awful tragedy."

She opened her mouth to deny his words but he rose his hand to silence her. "Before you try to contradict, listen to the story of mine, your brother's and yours. It will help you to remember." The man took a deep breath and began his tale.

When he finished, Lara was sitting with her jaw dropped, not really knowing what to say or how to react. Both men were watching her carefully, attempting to find their relative in her, but she knew who she was for real: Lara Croft, a famous archaeologist, not a Larissa Auditore da Firenze, a daughter of Giovanni and Maria, a sister of Ezio, a niece of Mario. If they were thinking she could belong to their world, they were totally wrong.

Now she rose her palm. "That's a very interesting story, but I'm afraid I'm not part of it. I'm not Larissa."

"Yes, you are," Ezio insisted. "You are my sister. Merda, you must be my sister. Nobody except madre has entered your room since we put you there yesterday after you fainted. You could not be... replaced in any manner."

"Hold on... I fainted?"

"Yes. You must have been really tired after our long trip from Firenze and encounter with Vieri. You collapsed right on Ezio's arms," Mario explained. "We decided to put you in bed and let you rest, hoping that tomorrow you would feel all right already."

"Unfortunatelly, it seems like you have lost your memory and you do not even know who you are," Ezio heaved a sigh.

Lara was getting angry. "Listen to me. I do know who I am. I am Lara Croft, a famous archaeologist, not any Larissa."

The older man interrupted her. "Archaeologist? Who is that? We have tailors, blacksmiths and courtesans, but no archaeologists."

The woman was in a daze. "Courtesans? Prostitution is illegal!" she blew up.

"No, it is not. The last doge della Repubblica di Venezia, Pietro Mocenigo,tried to inhibit it by closing some of many bordellos, but the voice of people negatived this idea peremptorily and this procedure is still legal even in Venezia."

"The last doge of Venice was Ludovico Manin. He abdicated in 1797, over 200 years ago!"

Both men looked at each other and Ezio bursted out laughing. Mario remained calm.

"Why is he laughing?" she asked him.

"Because it's 1476," he replied.

"1476? No way! It can't be!"

The boy became silent for a while. "So what year is it in your opinion?"

"2012, of course."

Ezio began to roar at the top of his voice again. "2012... You have really lost your mind, sister," he choked and carried on laughing.

1476. That wasn't exactly what she had been expecting. She was hoping that somehow she had gotten to the town of people living like in 15th century. She knew that there were hundreds of communities on the globe living like this, in the past, ignoring all the modern technology and science. Yet, they knew what year was it, and by the serious look on Mario's face and Ezio's reaction, she could tell they weren't joking. She REALLY was in 1476 renaissance Italy. It didn't matter how she had gotten here. She had to go back. And fast.

"...Or she truly isn't Larissa," Mario concluded, resting his head on his palm.

Ezio stopped. "What do you mean, Uncle?"

"I mean that she might have travelled here through time and placed herself in your sister's body," he responded, gazing at his nephew and ignoring the girl completely.

"Uncle, do you actually believe her? Larissa always enjoyed to tell impossible stories, you know that. She is a romancer iron."

"She doesn't behave like her, Ezio. Can't you see it?"

He laughed bitterly. "I have seen and heard enough during these seventeen years not to be taken in by her."

"You should know your sister well enough then to know that the girl next to you is not her!" he yelled at Ezio.

The young man placed his gaze at Lara and began to observe her. After several minutes which seemed like eternity he peeked at Mario and nodded. "You are right, Uncle. She looks like my sister, but that isn't her." Suddenly, his eyes filled with tears. "Then what has happened to Larissa? I'm starting to worry."

"I do not know what has happened to her soul, Ezio. Yet, I know what has happened to her body." He pointed his finger at Lara. "It is right here, so if you want to keep your sister safe, you better take care of her and make sure she won't get hurt. This is my theory." He lowered his head and uttered a sigh. "I am worried as well, Ezio. I do not like it when something I do not clearly understand is happening and I do not think we will understand it soon." He looked at the young woman. "And I guess you are not able to explain this to us either?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm not. So you really believe me?"

He nodded.

"Why?"

"Your vocabulary seems..." he made a pause, trying to find a suitable word. "...somehow modern, too modern." he snapped his fingers, finding one. "And the way you move and speak... It is different from how Larissa behaves." He straightened up. "Besides, I have seen many weird things in my life. We should be open-minded, both of us," he winked at Ezio conspiratorially.

Lara ignored it. "But why do you believe I'm from 2012?"

He smirked. "I didn't say I believe you are from the future. I simply know you are not my niece. That's enough for me. How about you, Ezio?" he turned his face to the other man.

The man shrugged his shoulders. "I trust your opinion, Uncle."

"Bene." Mario patted her arm in a friendly gesture. "For now, we need to think what to do with you." he looked at her with his one healthy eye. "What do you suggest?"

For once in her entire life, Lara had no notions, not a single one. All she could do was shake her head.

The older man smirked again. "Do not worry, I have got an idea. In my view, it would be better if only the three of us knew you are not Larissa. We should't worry Maria, and besides, I cannot tell you how the others could react if they found out." Lara nodded. "The best thing we can do is to act as nothing has happened," he continued. "We have to keep up appearances. If you really are from different time, it can be hard for you at first, but we will both try to help you." Mario gave her a once-over. "Your attire seems fine." He peeked at her bare feet. "Well, except the fact you have no shoes. I have to admit that if not lack of them, your shouts of protest and rather unusual behaviour, I would be taken in and believe you really are Larissa."

Suddenly, out of thin air, Lara went laughing so hard she had to fight for her breath. Her companions were looking at her like at a nut.

"Are you fine?" Ezio asked hesitantly.

She calmed down a bit. "Yeah, I'm perfectly fine. It's just, when I think that if not lack of shoes, the masquerade could succeed..."

All three of them laughed. It looked like the ice was already broken.