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PostHeaderIcon Damian Elero's Story Chapter 1: Secrets 1466

Chapter 1: Secrets 1466

Wandering the streets of Jerusalem Damian was a young boy, no more than ten years old, yet he had a secret that he could tell no one, not even his own father.

Sighing he started to make his way back to the castle, where his father, the Templar in control of the city, and the surrounding area was, waiting for his son to get back for his training.

PostHeaderIcon An Assassins Life Chapter 10: The Truth, At A Price 1469

An Assassins Life  Chapter 10: The Truth, At A Price 1469

(warning, this contains violence and gore, read at your own risk)

 

It was late, very late.

Ezio had gone home hours ago and everyone was in bed asleep, or so I thought.

I couldn’t get to sleep and the wound on my chest had started to hurt again, so I got out of bed and went to sit on the window ledge.

PostHeaderIcon An Assassins Life Chapter 9: Friends of The Family 1469

An Assassins Life Chapter 9: Friends of The Family 1469

Bells tolled in the background, the sign an assassin had struck.

Guards raced around the city, looking for the assassin.

People ran back to their homes, the whole city was in turmoil.

Antonino kept running, going the long way back to our house.

Everything kept going black as I kept drifting in and out of consciences.

“Hang on Miranda, we’re almost home.” Antonino said as he raced towards home.

Alfonso raced over, and was covered in blood. “You alright Antonino?”

PostHeaderIcon An Assassins Life Chapter 8: Past reviled 1469

Chapter 8: Past reviled 1469

I don’t remember much about my past except the face of a kind and loving mother, I don’t remember my father much as I don’t think I ever saw him.

But one day it all changed, my mother disappeared and I never saw her again.

I did not know why she left but I never found out, but her servant took me to her home and raised me with her own children like I was one of them, the man I later came to call father was an assassin, the second in the order under Giovanni Auditore.

PostHeaderIcon Poem thingy

My past is hidden, lost from the world.
But now you see the true story.
Pain and loss fill my earliest memories.
My past is now in full view, for all to see and understand.
Pain is always there.

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