Italy

4,020 years since initial death
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"Steady."

A brisk gust of wind flurried across the grass, scattering the fallen leaves all over the yard. The stationary target ahead rustled.

"Raise your elbow higher."

A distant horse's neigh broke the silence, yet the girl's eyes never flinched. She had all the time in the world to concentrate on her aim. Time was of no essence. 

"Don't forget to breathe and take in the air around you."

Throughout her steadiness, the outside world rendered obsolete. Birds froze in the sky, leaves halted in the air, all noises fell on deaf ears. 

"Careful not to hesitate, find the right angle and pull your finger back."

The shot penetrated the target, striking the straw dummy in the neck. Sixteen-year-old Kara was pleased with her effort. She brushed aside strands of her brunette hair away from her eyes and grinned with confidence. Though she spoke to pierce its head, she accepted her own efforts. It was still an improvement over her last shot that struck the torso.

She glanced at her father who stood right behind her. "How was that?"

"That's damn near better than me." Marco found great pride in seeing his daughter succeed. It impressed him, and he patted her on the shoulder. He couldn't help but smile, concealing the old memories that reminded him how familiar all of this had been.

"I want a moving target next time." Kara stared at their targets. Aside from the straw dummy, she previously showered a wooden log with arrows and bolts.

"You should try shooting down a vulture in a storm." He snickered, though he believed she could do it. His daughter definitely inherited his confidence. "But that's for another time. Let's head inside, Livia is waiting."

Their home was located northeast of Venice, in Le Vignole. It provided plenty of space for target practice, gardening, and fishing. As a plus, it also granted a great view of the Adriatic Sea. Marco and Kara returned to the dining room, where his wife, Livia, awaited them. Her blonde hair rested in a tail-like bundle, much like Kara. She had already prepared a meal for the both of them. 

This was a lifestyle he was all too familiar with. But having a child again added new obstacles that he had overlooked over the past few hundred years. He almost forgot how to be a father again.

"Baccala' mantecato," Livia snapped him back to reality, "just the way you like it." Creamed cod served over toasted bread, it was a meal he often enjoyed, though he would exchange the toast for hot polenta. He learned not to complain about it and instead thanked her for the food. Kara loved it, but Livia preferred the moleche frite, the fried soft-shelled crab.

Livia caught the fish herself when Marco was away in Venice. Though finances provided some trouble occasionally, it wouldn't last. While Livia sold most of her daily catches, Marco worked in a warehouse and lent a hand in constructing the Venetian architecture.

This era parted ways with the old Middle Ages. When ancient castle ruins eroded and were invaded by nature's call of moss and trees, mankind turned towards modern approaches. Marco could still recognize remnants of the past. Soldiers in plated armor still marched across the streets as men and women alike walked or sat atop their mounts. The weapons, though fancier and shorter than their predecessors, helped remind Marco this was the same world he had always known since his birth in a time long ago and land far away.

The Renaissance evoked a sense of loneliness within him. No matter how unrecognizable things may become, he had to remember to adapt alongside the others. It almost seemed history was moving faster than before, as new land was discovered by the Portuguese in Africa that even he never had a chance to explore. Not to mention word of possible land across the Atlantic. He heard a report that they stumbled upon a place the locals called Kanata.

If those reports were true, that would be an adventure for another time. Marco focused on Italy instead. Despite his peaceful life here, there were other issues to worry about. The worst being the House of Borgia.

The Borgias controlled most of Europe, took part in major political affairs, and even produced two popes; most notably, Alexander IV. Marco unfortunately involved himself in these politics out of spite, and it punished him with several enemies from the Borgia family. His old rival from Florence was the illegitimate son of Pope Alexander IV, named Cesare Borgia. What started off as disagreements in certain laws turned violent, that threatened Marco's family.

Cesare was appointed commander of the papal armies and even led his own Italian mercenaries. He was slowly becoming the most powerful man in Italia. Anyone who opposed him would either disappear or be found dead in their homes. Marco had threatened him with nothing but a wrathful vengeance if he ever tried to hurt him or his family.

Marco however never told Livia the truth about Cesare. As far as she's aware, her husband was never in danger. He's a role model citizen, someone who lived a peaceful and ordinary life without trouble. If she knew his head was wanted by the most notorious Italian militia in the Renaissance; he feared she'd never return to him out of her own safety.

He was willing to do anything to ensure no harm would be brought upon his family, not when he had achieved the life he had always searched for.

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"Catch!"

Marco tossed a stick forward. The pouting lion ahead never flinched when the stick struck the side of its head and fell.

Inside a warehouse situated by the outskirts of Venice, nobody was around to witness him occupy himself with his pet. Since his time with Joan, he learned to better control his emotions and prevent an outrage. This meant less visits from the lion.

"Come on, Set." However, with proper composure, he also learned to summon the lion without resorting to anger. It was a manifestation of his own sin, and that's how he displayed it at will. Though it required remembering painful memories, that surge of negativity was all he needed to bring forth the lion, as if it came just to savor his tears and anguish.

He threw another stick further away, yet the lion never budged. Its glare burned deep into his eyes, annoyed that it was summoned for a game of fetch. Marco enjoyed this moment. Whatever bad memory he had conjured to summon Set, he quickly found ways to distract himself and avoid breakdowns, which is how he kept the lion without any of the bleak emotions.

Beside him were a few more sturdy twigs. He continued to sit atop a barrel, his feet dangling and playfully swaying back and forth. "You're stuck with me till the end of time. Might as well accept it and humor me."

The lion finally caught his next stick, snatching it with its jaws and snapping it effortlessly. "Molto bene." Marco clapped proudly, readying another stick in his hand. His amusement drowned out the rest of the world, including the sound of a door slamming shut nearby.

Set looked away from him to stare at the shadows. Marco ignored them and tossed a twig over to the lion. It phased through the animal and landed on the wooden floorboard beneath it.

"I see, you can become translucent at will. You don't want anyone to see the stick bounce off an invisible figure." Marco continued to give the armed intruders no attention. Five of them stood in front of him, all donning green robes and assorted armored plates guarding their limbs.

One of them spoke up. "By the order of the Borgia, you will listen, Marco Settini; or you will die."

Marco instead lifted a finger. "Pardon me but as you can see, I'm having a civil discussion with my good friend, Set. He doesn't like being interrupted."

The men shared odd glances with one another. Marco hurled another stick that once more traveled through the lion as if it wasn't there.

"Cesare seeks an answer, Settini!" A different mercenary yelled.

Marco smiled at the lion. "Which one do you reckon is the tastiest amongst them? Take your pick."

The lion growled towards the heaviest looking man on the right. Marco sneered and whispered back. "Are you sure? He's got too much fat on his flesh. I'd go with the one in the center. His lean abdomen looks tender, you might like it."

His fun ended when a blade unsheathed and its sharp tip pointed against his neck. One of the men furiously burrowed his brows and gritted his teeth. "No more warnings! Your presence threatens the Borgia, and you're being given a choice. Flee and never show your face in Europa again, or accept your death. Cesare cares not of your fate, as long as you interfere with his reign no longer."

"Say I refuse, will you really try to kill me?" He mocked them.

Upon doing so, the others lifted their weapons. They ranged from rapiers to double-bladed axes and longswords. The man in the center continued to threaten him. "Killing you will be easy. It's five against one."

"So kill me then." Marco gently nudged the man's blade away from his neck and stood up.

Marco placed both arms behind his back, confidently facing them all. No one spoke, and the lead mercenary placed his rapier against his neck threateningly again.

When no further action occurred, Marco replied. "Just push it forward into my throat, I won't resist."

The mercenary grunted. His weapon tripled in weight, and his arms sloped downwards. His skin rattled under the stress. He couldn't see that a lion had placed one paw against his sword to lower it.

"What has befallen you, Geraldo?" One of the mercs worryingly looked over the man.

"My arms," Geraldo strained his veins, lifting his blade as hard as he could to no avail, "I'm weakened."

The soldier on the far left stepped forward with his longsword. Marco walked to the side calmly as the man tripped against the lion and collapsed to the floor. Set stepped over him.

When one more soul tried his luck at striking him down, his axe was batted away by an invisible strength. He whipped his head down in confusion and shouted, "is there something here?"

"Is this sorcery?" Another asked. They ceased their advance and kept their distance. "Cesare spoke nothing of this."

Marco turned his back towards them and paused before leaving. The lion leapt atop some wooden crates and barrels beside him gained the high ground. "I want you all to send Cesare a message on my behalf. I intend to stay in Italia. I no longer care for any of his political affairs and I plan on continuing my peaceful life here. So here is my offer for you."

He kept his arms behind his back and faced them all. "If you value your lives, do not follow me. As long as my family and I are left alone, you too will be spared. Otherwise, I'll ensure history will remember none of you."

Marco gave Set a quick glance, and the lion received the message. It pushed a barrel forward to crash and startle everyone. Finally, he turned and walked away.

Set accompanied him. It watched the Borgia mercenaries to ensure none followed him. If they did, it would protect him. Even if it's invisible to them, it could harm them if he allowed it to.

He exited the warehouse and marched into the public streets of Venice. The Borgia wouldn't assassinate him with so many witnesses.

By his own calculations, Cesare would either personally visit him or would send a small militia to kill him. This would take no more than a week to occur. He knew what needed to be done, and he'll end this conflict without his family ever knowing what could have been.

He returned home with a smile and continued the same routine. Rather than going to war, he stayed behind to be the best father his family could ask for.

Holding hands with Livia, they walked along rooftops to enjoy the surrounding view of the Renaissance. It was romantic for them, as the rooftops were where they had initially met back in Florence. No amount of mercenaries could ruin his love for her and this nation.

Kara often helped Livia with work, chores and even accompanied her with frequent visits to Venice's inner markets. Marco always watched them from afar to ensure no harm befell them. A few times, he made the appearance of some suspicious figures walking towards him. But when an invisible lion shoved a bystander, multiple heads turned and fingers pointed to blame one another. Crowds would form, insults were thrown, and guards intervened. Any chance for an assassination attempt was thwarted by forces outside of any mortal's control.

He never laid a finger on anyone. Marco could never be blamed when a mercenary attempted to shoot him from the rooftops with a crossbow, only to accidentally trip and fall off the edge. As far as mankind is concerned, the lion doesn't exist. That makes his death a natural calamity or perhaps a suicide.

Marco kept the ruse until the perfect opportunity could arise for him. Cesare would be stopped at one point or another. Once that happens, there will be nothing left to threaten his solitude.

Until then, he and Set kept a watchful eye to protect his loved ones.

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Historical Notes:

Men are considered adults when they reach the age of 21. Women on the other hand are considered adults by 14 if they're married, or at 16 if they're still single.

The city of Florence is the birthplace of the Renaissance. Some speculate it dates back as early as 1265 AD. It would come to an end within the early 17th century.

Venice had reached its peak in the late 13th century. With over 36,000 sailors and 3,300 ships, it was amongst the most powerful, wealthiest and prosperous cities in all of Europe.

The Byzantine Empire was aided by Venice, as ships from the city often traded with the Empire and supported it during the Battle of Constantinople. However, this proved to be a mistake. The Ottoman Empire brought forth the fall of Constantinople, that later threatened Venice and started the city's decline from power.

Cesare Borgia

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