Venice

4,025 years since initial death
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It seemed Marco's worries had come to an end.

While Cesare focused on his conquest of Tuscany, the pope, Alexander IV had died in 1503. This left Cesare with little support as he had also lost his papal army. A new pope was brought in, one that supported the young Borgia, but would die less than a month later.

When Marco had heard of this, he knew it was only a matter of time before Cesare was left with nothing. Because of his time in politics during his earlier years in the Renaissance period, Marco had powerful allies and connections. He was soon given the chance of a lifetime to capture Cesare once and for all.

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. At first, she wanted to travel with him. He wouldn't allow it, claiming 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. With his help, the infamous and villainous young Borgia, Cesare, was finally caught and imprisoned. Their rivalry had ended at long last. For once, Marco would rest assured knowing that his family could sleep safely without fearing any assassin that may try to assassinate them.

It seemed the mercenaries that chose to take their own lives in fear of Cesare were wrong. Cesare wasn't all-powerful. He had talked a big game, but he was weak. 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. There, he remained with his wife, Livia, and his daughter, Kara. He had originally met Livia in Florence, where they sat on the rooftops together, away from prying eyes. It was the perfect spot to bask in the pure beauty the city had to offer them. Starting as acquaintances, they became close friends thereafter. Experiencing the heart and soul of the Renaissance, their love for one another became clear.  

At first, Marco was unsure about his decision. Compared to his past marriages, he felt it may have been too soon to remarry, considering he lost Violet less than 150 years ago. But just as he had always reassured himself when facing romance, he knew his long everlasting life could not be spent alone. He needed a loved one by his side.

By that point, Marco had changed his surname to Settini. Throughout all these years, he still remained close to his true name. A part of him knew his name changes were extremely lazy, but he didn't seem to care. They were simple and reminded him of who he was. Whether it's Maalik, Markus, Merlin, Ming, Morn or even Milton; his origins were never forgotten.

After the birth of Kara, they settled peacefully together as a family for years. The only worries that remained were financial issues that he would soon overcome with Livia's help. Money was the only thing left that he was after. Without it, he wouldn't be able to keep his family stable. Even in this economy, nothing was simple anymore.

He often chose to stay out of trouble. Even when entering the city, he was the perfect example of a law abiding citizen. Becoming popular with the locals, he even assisted art patrons whenever he could. Art was a significant part of his life in Italy, especially when he became one of Leonardo Da Vinci's assistants during his previous time in Florence.

It was Leonardo that specially designed Marco's handmade crossbow. He was able to witness the creation of his several sketches, inventions and masterpieces. Last he heard, he was completing work on a new painting of a woman with a peculiar smile.

But for the majority of his time in Venice, he spent it only with his family. One thing he had never abandoned for thousands of years was his loyalty to his family. Although they often change throughout the centuries, his sense of honor remained true in his heart.

Finally, in 1507, Marco was at the peak of his current life. Now a banker in Venice, his new salary gave him a chance to keep his family comfortable. He had secretly been saving up money for a trip back to Florence, the city he and his wife had always preferred to live in. It wasn't much compared to the other wealthy citizens, but the amount he got was enough to pay for their home. The rest was stored in a private chest of his.

It was time. Once his shift at the local bank was over, he made the walk towards the docks. His rowboat was waiting for him. He hurried down the sea as fast as he could, rowing with pure excitement. It's not often he was this happy. He could only imagine the look on Livia's face when he announces that it's time for them to move to a new, larger and far more comfortable home outside the Republic of Florence.

However, he was met with a sense of anxiety. He remembered his past time in Madrid, how he was once excited to announce pleasant news to Violet. But just as it happened then, he was about to witness something wrong. At Vignole's shore, a milita boat was stationed.

It made no sense for the militia to be here. Vignole was a quiet island. Only a handful of people lived here, away from the loud and busy life in Venice.

Quickly jumping out of his rowboat, Marco hurried back home. He could see it nearby, but standing before him now was a scene he had hoped he would never witness again. Several armed militia men stood outside his home. At least a dozen or more could be seen standing still as one of them approached the front door of his home.

"Not again." He spoke to himself quietly, remembering his past. This was something he was all too familiar with, and it was happening to him again. "Are you for real? No! Not again!"

Marco rushed towards them, although he was entirely unarmed. He didn't understand what was happening or who these people were. Upon closer inspection, he realized they all wore heavy armor. These were well trained, and fully armed soldiers. He couldn't make out which faction they stood for, but it didn't matter to him. No matter who they were, they had to be stopped.

One of them knocked on the front door of his home, clenching a dagger in the other hand. Marco started yelling for their attention, it worked as a few turned their heads and noticed him. The door soon opened and Livia was immediately attacked without hesitation.

Marco's priority was stopping the guard that entered his home. His wife and daughter were defenseless. However, as he tried to ignore the rest of the soldiers all around him and run for the door, he was stopped dead in his tracks. These men were well aware of his excellent skills in combat, they weren't going to give him a chance to retaliate.

He was immediately knocked down by one of the soldiers running into him, tackling him to the ground. They all had their helmets on, making it impossible to determine who they were. But that didn't matter to him. They were invading his home, threatening his family. That earned them a death sentence.

His anger steadily grew, yearning to escape from within him and lash out at the world. It was happening again, he was losing control. His vision was flickering, as if he was continuously passing out and waking back up instantly. Despite how hard Marco has worked to keep his anger under control, nothing could convince him to stay calm.

Some of the guards noticed his hands slightly glowing red. Something was happening to him. Just when one of them was ready to plunge their blade into his back and kill him, it all changed.

Marco had released a war cry just as he broke through his limit. As if he just defied gravity, he had risen from the ground instantaneously without giving anyone a chance to notice what had happened. It was only enough to get him back on his feet as everyone around stumbled back. The sudden heavy wind spiraling around them only seemed to intensify the situation.

His stamina had returned, and his strength had merely doubled. He quickly grabbed the closest guard's helmet and ripped it right off, exposing the soldier's bald head during the fight. With one powerful bash, the helmet was slammed against his face with full force, knocking him down.

Despite this, Marco was still surrounded by over a dozen soldiers. They all ran at him, their swords drawn and ready to be violently swung. What resulted next was nothing short of a slaughter.

He gave them no time to scream. With a sword in hand from the first soldier he defeated, he showed no mercy. Limbs and heads weren't the only things severed during the fight. Their dark armor was stained red. The scene was brutal to say the least and it would be enough to send a message to all who oppose him.

In a matter of minutes, all but two soldiers were left alive. One of which had run off with a sword sheathed, whereas the other was left injured on the grass. Marco stopped to take a few deep breaths as he surveyed his surroundings. He's viciously killed so many of them.

He questioned his own innocence. This can't be right, it's not who he is. How could he forget the lessons he's been taught throughout the years?

Suddenly, he remembered the one guard that entered his home. Without hesitation, he ran towards the front door. But he was forced to stand incredibly still at the entrance, unable to take a single step inside.

Livia stood in the back with a man behind her. He had her in a chokehold with his other hand keeping his sword gripped. She was frightened beyond relief, unaware of why this was happening.

"Your quarrel is with me." Marco said calmly, keeping himself from panicking. His tone was deepened and darkened, portraying a maniacal expression that was enough to send a shiver down anyone's spine. "This is your one and only warning to safely let her go, or I swear you will be harmed."

The guard backed his way against the wall, keeping Livia directly in front of him. There was nowhere for him to run. "You'll kill me regardless. So why should I listen to you?"

"Because you're not the only one holding a family hostage." Marco took a single step forward, keeping his sword ready for anything. "You're a coward who has to stand behind a human shield and an idiot for threatening a murderer who's torn apart your allies limb by limb. With no admirability or charisma, the only family you possess is a sick old mother and a sibling or two you haven't contacted in years. I know your type well, and I can promise you that your family members' severed heads will be buried beside your skeleton if you don't let my wife free."

Those words had done it. The guard's worried expression became noticeable, almost as if he was about to burst into tears. He wasn't paid enough to have his own life ended this way.

However, before he could make a decision, death was already delivered.

The guard was struck in the side of his head by an arrow, killing him instantly. He never saw it coming. As his body dropped to the floor alongside his weapon, Marco turned his head to the left. The arrow was fired from inside the house, just behind the corner.

Standing by the hallway was his daughter, Kara, holding a crossbow.

She was breathing heavily, clearly enraged as she shared her father's anger. Meanwhile, Livia had leaned herself against the wall, hyperventilating from the events that unfolded.

Marco on the other hand was stunned. He looked back at his teenage daughter, never saying a single word. In a way, he felt responsible for this. He taught her how to handle a crossbow. He taught her how to kill. His jaw was slightly lowered as he stared back at the bloodshed, but he would instantly revert back to his angered state.

Walking over to the guard's body, he ripped the arrow out of his head. Then, he approached Kara. Without saying a word, he held a hand out, gesturing her to give him the weapon. She looked back in confusion, hesitating before giving him the crossbow.

The final mercenary that ran away during the fight was still in the distance, staring back at the aftermath of the bloody battle that had just taken place. Marco made it clear that there would be no survivors. Therefore, he walked outdoors with his crossbow just as guard noticed him. Instead of grabbing a sword or running away, only a helmet was reached for.

In a twisted turn of events, the guard chose not to abandon duty or continue the fight. The helmet was held in hand as the guard's identity was revealed.

Marco aimed his crossbow, carefully lining his shot. The guard simply stood still, staring right back at him. Marco slightly hesitated for a second.

He chose to close his eyes instead and pull the trigger.

It was a perfect shot, directly to the guard's forehead. As the final intruder fell, the helmet followed. Dropping to the ground, rolling away as the blood flowed.

Instead of heading back inside, he walked towards the last mercenary left alive on the ground. He was bleeding. Suddenly, Marco made eye contact with a certain insignia he was too enraged to identify. It was 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.

"Who sent you?" He already had an idea of who it may be, but he waited for the confirmation.

"Cesare Borgia." The dying knight confirmed it. A few years after his initial imprisonment, Cesare escaped. With assistance and help from King John III of Navarre, he was ready to exact his revenge. Sending elite guards to all those who had wronged and betrayed him, he wanted everyone dead so that he may rule without interference.

Since Marco had played a role in capturing him and was an old rival, he would become his first target. Scouts had finally determined where his home was, and the assassination attempt was underway.

"I need a location." Marco had trouble containing his anger, momentarily losing himself as he began to scream. "Tell me where Cesare is, or I will personally drag you to shore and drown you myself!"

The guard was rightfully terrified and feared for his life. "I know not of his whereabouts, only that he was headed for northern Spain! That's all I know, I swear on our holy father!" That was all Marco needed to know, even if it wasn't a precise enough location, he could manage with this information.

He sighed before walking away slowly. Turning to one corpse on the ground, he spotted a quiver with arrows. Picking up one arrow, he loaded it into his crossbow.

The wounded knight tried to crawl away, pleasing for his life in the process. "I won't tell anyone of this! Cross my heart, I will leave this nation; please! I have a family to return to!"

Marco walked over to him, watching him struggle to crawl. He aimed his crossbow for his head.

The Borgia guard tried to shield his face, continuing to beg. "My mother and wife are dead, the only family I have is my son. He's just made it past the age of ten. Please, I just wanted to provide for my son! Let me see him again, I beg of you. My son needs his father."

Instead, Marco continued to stand over him. He paused for a brief moment as he thought of his next choice. Finally, he spoke, delivering a terrifying line that sent shivers down the knight's spine.

"I'll send him my regards."

Just as the knight was about to plead again, he was shot in between the eyes with an arrow. This was all too familiar for Marco, and he knew exactly what the knight would have said if he hadn't pulled the trigger just now. It wasn't something he could bear to listen to.

Wiping some blood off his face, he returned home and gently set down his crossbow over a table.

Now came the hard part.

He didn't even know how to begin explaining what had just happened to his family.

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Historical Notes:

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.

During the Renaissance, Le Vignole faced the Adriatic Sea. At the time, the Punta Sabbioni had yet to form. Today, it features a dock of its own and a lighthouse that were not present during the Renaissance.

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