Prologo: La Spaccatura
"This Rodrigo Borgia— he is your enemy?" Fenris asked. He was not sure what a Spaniard was, although he supposed it was another feature of the land that this stranger hailed from, like his strange almost-Arcanum.
Still, he understood the urgency to get back. He had left enough people behind— had left Hawke behind, and right when everything had gone to hell back home. If something had happened in his absence…
That did not bear thinking about— not right now. He would get back home, back to the rest of his friends. There was no use dwelling on what would happen in the meantime.
"I have heard good things about a blacksmith in Asrin, named Markul," he said. "I have not visited him myself, so I cannot say more. There are carriages that will convey you there safely."
He inclined his head to the man. He had only ever made this offer to one person before, but it… seemed appropriate. “My name is Fenris,” he said. “If you are ever in need of assistance, I keep a room in Estaria’s boardinghouse.”
"Yes...and an enemy to freethinking men everywhere," Ezio said, scratching his chin irritably. "I doubt you will run into him but if you do, I would appreciate the information A fat, balding Spaniard with a staff that is...magical for lack of a better term is hard to miss."
Part of him hoped that Borgia might have traveled through the rift with him...that would have saved him a considerable amount of trouble But it seemed that he wouldn't be so lucky this time.
"That's an interesting name," Ezio mused. Or maybe it wasn't; with people walking around with names like Fenris he could very well be the strangest named person here. "Perhaps I will pay him a visit then..."
"Hai il mio ringraziamento," Ezio said with a small bow. "Ezio Auditore da Firenze, at your service...and I shall keep you in mind."
With that, Ezio slipped into a passing crowd, hood pulled over his face as he searched for someone who wasn't paying attention to their wallets...















