Firenze

4,050 years since initial death
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Marco stood outside the villa he never had the chance to consider his home.

A few people lingered outside beside him, some of whom carried bundles of flowers. They were dressed fashionably well. Men wore black doublets with standing collars, and women chose low-cut bodices that broadened their shoulders, a chemise to hide their chest and gloves to conceal their hands. 

They were all dressed for an occasion. Taking one quick glance at all their faces told the truth of what was happening. This was a sad day for everyone. 

Dressed in his usual dark tunic and grey ragged cloak, Marco ignored everyone as he opened the door. Before coming here, he spent his whole day tidying up his appearance. His beard was shaved to a stubble, and his messy hair was shortened slightly and combed. He needed to look the part for this special occasion.

He slowly walked through the rooms, observing everything around him. There were so many memories displayed in full view. They ranged from paintings, artifacts and collectables they had gathered throughout the years.

One particular object caught his eye on display beside a crossbow. It was a small rectangular handle with a button in the center. He held it and pressed the button with this thumb out of curiosity. Suddenly, two blades on opposite ends of the handle sprung out, forming a double-bladed dagger. He pressed the button again, and they retracted back.

It was unlike anything he had seen before. He wondered if this belonged to Kara and if she ever had to use it. 

He walked up the staircase and reached the upper hallway. There, he spotted a woman just as tall as him. She looked to be in her mid-forties, standing outside the bedroom door. Beside her were two children and another man who comforted her. When she noticed Marco approach her, she wiped away her tears and cleared her throat.

"I'm sorry, she's not seeing anyone else today. It was close family relatives only to begin with." She spoke while her eyes were fixed on one of her children. It's clear she wasn't paying any attention to him. 

Marco gently brushed past her. "I know. I won't take long."

Her head turned, but his hood concealed a portion of his face. He walked inside the bedroom and slowly closed the door shut and locked it. His attention turned to the elderly woman laying in bed, staring at the ceiling. Her hair was entirely grey, and her old delicate skin looked so wrinkly. She lowered her head and looked at him without expression. 

He stood beside her, removed his hood, and gave a brief but faint smile. "Hello, Livia."

His voice had done it. Despite his appearance remaining somewhat identical to the way he looked before, his voice is what caused her to suddenly breathe heavily. Her eyes had widened, staring back at him in complete shock.

"Apologies if my appearance isn't as you remember. I had to be presentable, so I shaved." He placed a hand on the bed, wanting to feel her soft skin one more time.

He watched her closely, noticing her quivering lips. What could she possibly say in response to his absence? 

"How have you been?" Marco asked, knowing he most likely won't get a response. "Upon my return to Florence, I asked some of the locals about you. When they mentioned your illness, I came as soon as I could."

Livia struggled to remain still. Her eyes teared up, and her breathing intensified. Her lips parted and Marco could sense she was summoning any strength she had left to form a single word. Finally, her soft but fragile voice echoed in his ears.

"Why?"

Marco stood still. Now he was the one who didn't know how to respond. He was able to feel her hand below, holding on to her gently as he stared into her eyes with a sorrowful expression. "To keep you safe from me."

He slowly came down to his knees, leveling himself with her. Keeping her hand close, he whispered to her. "I was scared of what might happen, and you deserved better."

"You look..." Her voice broke apart.

"I learned to develop a sense of fashion in Rome." He tried his best to smile. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you my secret of remaining so youthful in my old age."

"Marco." The way she said his name hurt him more than it should have. She was clearly in pain. Seeing him now at the end was far too much for her fragile heart to handle.

"I'm sorry, I truly am, Livia. I should have knocked on the door instead of sliding that letter. But it killed me. A battlefield was not what Kara needed at that age, and I failed to see that everywhere I go, I always bring along another war. I don't know if I could ever forgive myself."

As he said it, Livia slowly extended her hand forward and placed it over his mouth to keep him silent. A few tears wanted to escape, but he forced them back. He didn't wish to cry in front of her.

She never smiled. Her eyes matched his, and she attempted to speak again with some more struggling effort. "She missed you."

Hearing those words made him look away momentarily as Livia continued. "She even became like you."

His eyes narrowed in confusion for a second, until Livia finished. "She was so angry at the world for what it did to us."

"I never wanted this to happen. This was never her fight to begin with, nor was it yours. It was all on me, and that's how I wanted it to remain."

A familiar girl entered his thoughts. This wasn't the first time he dragged his own child towards war. He shifted his vision back towards the present and only one more question remained.

"Did she ever forgive me?"

He thought she'd nod and confirm it, but Livia became quiet. Her breathing gently relaxed, and her eyes were fixed. Even her grasp over his hand weakened.

Marco stared back and awaited her response. But when he noticed her eyes hadn't blinked, he realized what had happened. "Livia?"

She never breathed again. He whispered her name again and received no reply. His hand delicately closed her eyes permanently, and he leaned in to kiss her forehead.

He stood back and straightened his clothes. But before he could leave, his emotions got the better of him.

A few minutes later, Marco opened the door. The same woman from before was waiting. Before she could say anything, he leaned towards her for a hug. She tried to resist him at first, but he wrapped his arms around her as tight as he could. Even patting the back of her head in the process, he truly felt that he was back home.

Despite believing he had no more tears to shed, one more escaped the clutches of his eye and rolled down the side of his face. It dripped onto the woman's back.

When the hug concluded, he glanced at the man beside her. His facial hair almost resembled his own before he shaved, but he wasn't blonde. "You're not Giovanni, are you?"

"My name is Etnezio." He replied.

As Marco thought about it, his daughter reacted. "How do you know Giovanni? Who are you?"

His back faced her. "It's like I told you a long time ago. I always return."

He turned his head around carefully and smiled as he stared into the eyes of his old daughter. She froze and studied his appearance, her lips trembled open. "Dad?"

"Take care, Kara."

Marco turned and walked away, just as Kara followed him. He ignored everything she said and focused on leaving the scene. His daughter's voice rose, and it attracted the attention of everyone who attended the family reunion.

"Dad!" She slammed his back to get a reaction out of him, but he never budged. He walked past all the concerned civilians in silence. Every time Kara yelled, it only hurt him further.

She called him by his name and tried everything to make him stop. But he stopped listening. Another tear escaped his eyes as he approached his horse and mounted it. He escaped and rode as far away as possible, his daughter's voice softening the further he went.

With his promise of returning fulfilled and his family safe from harm, it was time for him to retire. Therefore, he left the country. He never returned to see Kara again. The thought of visiting his daughter at her deathbed wasn't something he could handle.

There was a new world awaiting him, and with it were new adventures.

Wherever he travels next, a new adventure would await him. Alongside that adventure will bring war and chaos, and it will be up to him to end it. Just as he had always done in the past.

He was ready to do it again until the end of his immortal life.

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Historical Notes:

The 16th century saw a rise in Western civilization, as it became an age of discovery and exploration. Spain and Portugal began colonization in Central and South America. While the Spanish primarily focused on conquering territory from native empires such as the Aztecs, the Portuguese mastered their trade with several parts of the world.

World Map by Amerigo Vespucci and Gerardus Mercator

The Ottoman Empire's expansion continued throughout the 16th century, defeating and occupying nations such as Iran and Egypt. The Kingdom of Hungary also fell to the Empire's growing reign in 1521, and the Empire would secure Baghdad from the Persians in 1535.

In 1527, Charles V the Holy Roman Emperor launched an invasion in Rome. Known as the Sack of Rome, it saw over 45,000 civilian deaths as the population of Rome plummeted from 55,000 to 10,000. Pope Clement VII managed to escape the massacre, but the Swiss guards that defended the Vatican were killed.

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