Venice

4,025 years since initial death
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Marco's life had never been better.

It had been five years since the Borgia threatened him. While Cesare focused on his conquest of Tuscany, the pope, Alexander VI had died in 1503. This left Cesare with little support as he had also lost his papal army.

At first, Marco was cautious when the next pope, Pius III, showed great interest in supporting the Borgia family. But not even a month after his papacy, he died of a leg ulcer.

With no more popes favoring the Borgia, it was only a matter of time before Cesare was left with nothing. Marco took the opportunity to pursue Cesare at his weakest moment.

A business trip to Firenze was the best excuse Marco could think of. He told Livia he would be meeting with certain artists in the city in hopes of finding new career opportunities. Initially, she wanted to travel with him. He wouldn't allow it and claimed it was strictly business between him and the artists. To name a few, he mentioned Da Vinci and Sandro Botticelli.

In reality, he never traveled to Firenze. Instead, he left his family and headed to Naples. It was there that he met the Spanish general, Gonzalo Fernández de Córdoba. Because of Marco's political past, he helped the general capture and imprison the young Cesare Borgia.

This helped reveal the true nature of Cesare. Thousands believed him to be untouchable, and his apprehension dismissed all their claims. His age of oppression had come to an end. In prison, he could never hurt anyone again.

After his time in Naples, Marco returned to Venice. For years, they lived happily in their small villa close to the shore of Le Vignole. Finally at peace, he never had to worry about any harm befalling his loved ones.

By the time the year 1507 had arrived, Marco was ready to take the next step in his life. He became a banker and saved more money than he ever could before. Soon, he would be able to afford a beautiful home back in Florence. His wife would be happy to return to her city, and Kara could find so many more opportunities there to live her life.

Before returning home from work, Marco checked one of the caged pigeons outside the bank. A bird carried a letter addressed to him, and it made him smile. It was confirmation of his new home waiting for him and his family. This letter finally meant they could leave Venice behind.

The sun was on the verge of setting, and by the time it would rise again, they would be in Florence. He hid the letter in his coat and arrived home just in time to be greeted with another supper.

He exchanged a brief kiss with Livia as she spoke. "Kara was out the whole day with that boy, Giovanna. She even took the stick."

"Did she?" Marco chuckled at the thought, and his glance turned further into the house where Kara was standing. She only ever wore her bright yellow dress on special occasions, and it seemed today was one of those particular days.

"We were just rowing down the canal." Kara tried to cover her smile.

"With Rio?"

She leaned his staff against a table. "Giovanna wanted to see it. He wondered why you named it Rio."

Marco walked beside her and took hold of his staff. He gave it a twirl and pointed its blunt end towards her. "It came from England a thousand years before your birth, passed down from generation after another by a wizard named Merlin. Legend has it, he named it after his king, Riothamus."

"Wait, do you mean that staff is from King Arthur?" Kara's eyes gleamed with excitement. "I remember reading all about Merlin in that Historia Regum book!"

It was always strange to hear about that book. There were so many iterations on Arthur that spread throughout the centuries. "Yes, precisely. It's why you must be very cautious with it. You know, some people believe that Merlin was immortal. He could still be alive, secretly watching over his staff to ensure nothing happens to it. You wouldn't want to make him angry."

He spun his staff once more before handing it back to her. Just as he was about to reach into his coat for the letter, a knock on the door surprised him. Marco walked over and threw a jesting look back at his daughter. "Did Giovanna forget his comb? I swear, you can see his blonde curled hair from Rome."

She crossed her arms. "Dad! I like his hair, and he plays the most beautiful music I've ever heard."

Marco reached for the door and smirked. "I'm just taunting you, darling."

He swung the door open and stared into the receiving end of a loaded crossbow. He wasn't given enough time to blink before a bolt struck him dead in the forehead.

His whole world turned dark. A permanent ring echoed in his ears, rendering him in an endless, unescapable void. Marco tried to open his eyes to no avail. His consciousness fought to regain control, and his hearing picked up the sounds of muffled screams.

Marco struggled, and his eyes opened at last. He breathed rapidly and jolted, but couldn't get back up on his feet. He lowered his vision and saw the tall figure of an armored guard dragging him by the legs across the grass. No matter how hard he kicked, he couldn't escape as the guard took notice of his resurrection.

The guard's voice was feminine, and she shouted something at him. Marco paid her no attention. His own adrenaline drowned out the noises of the outside world, and he mustered the strength to silently call for help.

Just when the female guard said something that sounded like his name, she was forcefully tackled away by a lion from behind. Marco finally stood back on his feet as he watched her struggle with Set. His head throbbed repeatedly and he turned around in circles with a hand over his right ear.

The woman frantically defended herself from the beast. She placed both her hands around the lion's jaws and tried to push it back to no avail. It attempted to bite her hands off just as Marco approached. He focused on her apparel and the sheathed sword around her waist.

"Milt-" her scream was cut short when he snatched her weapon and the lion clawed her backwards. As she staggered, Marco impaled her through the heart with her own sword. He allowed her lifeless body to collapse as he paid attention to the villa ahead. Several different thoughts emerged, and he only hoped he didn't wake up too late.

He kept the sword and rushed indoors. His own vision flickered amidst the chaos. A few armed men stood in his home, one of whom carried a lit torch. They surrounded the bedroom door and slammed themselves against it.

On the floor was Rio, bloodied on both its blunt and sharp ends. Furthermore, one soldier laid dead in the kitchen, a crossbow bolt protruded from his neck. One of the other soldiers by the bedroom looked injured, his hands covered an obvious wound in his waist. He muttered something about a stubborn girl fighting back.

There was a story to unfold here, but he'd need to rid the intruders first. To ensure his survival, he wouldn't fight alone. No matter how skilled he may be, this wasn't a risk he was willing to take, so he summoned Set to follow him inside. It roared at the opposing men, none of whom reacted to it.

Steel met steel in a clash of silver. Marco utilized his surroundings to gain the upper hand while Set focused on distracting them. They felt the sudden embrace of a shift in the wind when one was shoved aside and another was scratched in the legs. As they scrambled, the immortal kicked forward a chair to stub one of them.

Set attacked the man with the torch, snatching the flame out of his hands with its jaw. It flung it across the room for Marco to catch. It didn't matter anymore if they realized a supernatural force was at play here. None of them would be left alive.

He tripped a soldier over to the ground and shoved the torch into his face. But when his assailant caught on fire, Marco regretted it. He didn't want to risk setting his house ablaze, so he resorted to stomping on the man's head to extinguish it.

When only one intruder remained, Marco hesitated to kill him. They stared at one another, and he turned towards Set. "Drag him outside."

The bemused intruder's arm was snatched by the lion's invisible jaw. His cries of agony were ignored as Marco lifted his bloodied staff from the floor and stepped outdoors. He put out the flame and tossed away the torch.

Set tugged on the man's arm some more, seemingly wanting to tear it off and enjoy nibbling on it. Marco dragged his staff's sharpened end across the grass and stopped beside them. The man wouldn't stop yelling about the alleged sorcery of his predicament, complaining about his nearly severed arm in the process.

Marco studied him before making the first move. On the soldier's chestplate was a small insignia that stood out to him upon recognition. It showed a yellow shield, with a patch of green grass and a red bull in the center of it all. It was the Arms of the House of Borgia.

He knelt over him and spoke softly. "I'm going to ask you some questions. If you answer them, I will spare your life. Nod your head if you understand."

The Borgia guard complied as Set backed away. Marco already had an idea of who was behind this attack, but he needed confirmation. "Who sent you?"

"Cesare Borgia." This brought forth several other questions.

"He's imprisoned."

"He escaped." Marco sighed at the news. He should have killed him when he had the chance. "King John III aided him. Cesare paid us handsomely to kill anyone involved in his initial capture."

Marco exchanged another glance with Set as he processed everything. "King of Navarre?"

"Yes." That took away some of the tension. Navarre was a smaller nation, they shouldn't pose too much of a threat to Europe. 

"I want a precise location to the best of your knowledge. Where is Cesare?"

He was met with a few seconds of silence before the desperate soldier coughed up an answer. "I don't kno-" It was the one answer Marco refused to accept, and he slammed his staff's blunt end over the man's chest.

"For every word that comes out of your mouth, I'll shatter a bone if it doesn't tell me where Cesare has fled to!" He pounded his staff by his prisoner's head to get the message across. Then, he looked back at Set. "You, bring me a crossbow."

As for the Borgia guard, his cries further agitated Marco. "He told us nothing! We were sent from Milan!"

Another bash pummeled his arms as Marco's anger boiled beyond his own limitations. Throughout every swing of his staff, he only thought of what he had lost today. He ignored the horrible screams of torment. Instead, he reminded himself that all these years of ensuring his life was perfect led to nothing because of one man.

"What did I say about your bones?" He yelled back and offered one more blow from his staff to his knees. "I'm looking for Cesare! Unless he is in Milan, I could care less where you hail from!"

A nudge from behind caused Marco to look around. Set returned with a crossbow in its jaw. He retrieved the weapon and bit his lip in return. "What am I supposed to do with this? It needs a bolt or arrow, you should know this!"

The lion roared ferociously in his face, which only made his rage erupt in an explosion. Marco dropped the crossbow and gripped his staff hard, aiming its sharp end forward and attacking the lion with it. He cut through the animal's face vertically, scarring its left side and nicking its eye.

Set lowered its head in return and looked aside. It turned and walked away, no doubt to find ammunition for the crossbow. But Marco's vision blurred, and a cold, searing pain emitted from his left eye. He placed a hand over his face and found blood. A deep scar carved itself along his cheek and through his eye.

An overwhelming sense of uneasiness invaded his head, and his tone settled. His posture straightened, and his breath steadied. It was during his moment of reflection that the dying knight muttered one more answer. "Spain."

Marco knelt beside him and listened as the man coughed again. "It was in a letter. I remember now, the king of Navarre ordered him. Cesare is far from Italia."

That was all he needed to know. Of course Cesare would become a king's loyal pet. With a location in mind, Marco could plot his next course of action and ultimately murder the man responsible for ruining his perfect life.

However, just as he stood up, he was struck back down. A blistering and sudden stab in his abdomen made him tumble. He reached around and felt a protruding arrow jabbed into his flesh. He ripped it out and glared at the lion that now appeared from behind.

He struggled to maintain his balance again and inserted the arrow into the crossbow. "You've proven your point, now heal me." He whispered to the lion, hoping to have his wounds sealed with his own power as they did in Madrid.

"No." It was the only word Set spoke in a low and neutral tone that mimicked his own. But it was deeper and sounded cracked in return, almost like it was possessed. Then, the animal faded. Its appearance turned transparent and erased itself from view.

Marco cursed again and held his breath to fight the pain and stand. He gritted his teeth and stepped forward with his crossbow drawn. The guard never moved from his position and remained laid across the grass with a defeated expression. "I do not know who you speak to or what invisible force has worked its magic today, but it is unholy. Do you believe in God?"

"Yes." Marco had no interest in striking a conversation with someone who attempted to murder his own family. Though he responded, he worked on readying himself to end this interaction.

"Do you think he'll forgive me?" The knight's eyes stared into his.

"Ask him yourself." He raised his crossbow and ensured the arrow was locked in place.

"You said you would spare me."

With the strings pulled back, Marco aimed his crossbow for the man's head. "I lied."

Rather than taking the shot, hesitation took a hold of him. He continued to bleed from the side, and his left eye had closed shut from the injury.

"I'm not ready to die." The knight talked again, and Marco allowed him to. "I accepted the job and thought nothing of it. It should have been simple, but I regret every second of it. No amount of coin is worth this."

He listened to his bantering despite wanting to shoot him already. Perhaps he found it amusing when people pleaded for their lives. It made him feel all the more powerful to know he controls what happens to them. Yet, he couldn't feel anything.

"I have a little girl waiting for me in Milan." The man stuttered on a few of his words as his eyes shed some tears. "Alessia just turned ten years of age a few days ago. I promised her I'd be there. I'd have bought her the world with the money I'd get from this assignment."

It hurt to listen to him. He knew what it was like to beg for his life and resort to using his own daughter as a tool for persuasion.

"I beg you, sir. Let me see Alessia one more time. I only ever did this for her, nothing here was personal. Please don't take me away from her. I've promised her so much, I just want to tell her I love her."

Marco deeply inhaled and focused on steadying his hands. He remembered everything, and he knew what came next. When the breath from his lungs escaped through his nostrils, he finally put an end to it.

"I'll send her my regards."

He shot the man in the forehead. The arrow penetrated his head and ended his misery before any more words could be spoken. He tossed the crossbow away and raised his head to stare at the clouds. It was all over, and now he had to find a way to fix it. He thought of what to say to his family, but nothing came to mind.

But upon turning around, he spotted Kara standing by the villa. She stared back horrified, her eyes widened and her own hands placed over her lips. She had seen everything.

Marco froze in return, unsure of what to do or say. But when Kara turned and ran back inside the house, he yelled her name. He ran forward, but this was a mistake that only forced his injury to bring him down. His figure fell and he dragged himself across the grass before rising again.

He tried to summon Set once more and force it to heal his wounds. However, Set never appeared.

He was on his own here.

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Historical Notes:

A widespread rumor at the time mentioned the Borgia family were Jews pretending to be Roman Catholics. The Head of the Catholic Church propagated this rumor that persisted for centuries afterwards.

Le Vignole was seen as a vacation place for the early Roman inhabitants and the Venetians. Its neighboring island, Lido, was used as a military region, housing artillery, barracks and several watchtowers.

In the early 15th century, two fortresses were constructed to aid in the fight against the Turkish invasions. One was built in Lido, and the other was built directly across in Vignole. At the time, they were known as "Li Do Castei", meaning The Two Castles. The Lido fortress is gone today, but the fortress in Vignole, now known as Fort Sant'Andrea still exists on the south-eastern shore of the island. 

Despite being constructed in 1410, Fort Sant'Andrea only saw one battle during its lifetime in the year 1797 when Napoleon invaded. The Fortress was essentially the full might of the Venetian defense, and it failed to defeat Napoleon's naval forces. The fort is abandoned today with no safety measures added for tourists. 

1526 sketch of the two fortresses on Lido and Vignole

Fort Sant'Andrea (San Andrea / Castello Nuovo) today

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