Spain

4,025 years since initial death
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Marco wasted no time in his pursuit against Cesare.

Thanks to his connections with the local Medici family, a rival house against the Borgia, he was able to board a ship headed straight for Barcelona, Spain. His next stop was north in Navarre.

But it was never that simple. Though he was there to kill one man, he stepped foot into yet another war. In the town of Viana, the Borgia planned an invasion that would drag the entire nation into a political conflict. Cesare had support from the king, and he used his ally to his advantage to build his army.

With Cesare at the head of the upcoming siege, an assassination would be difficult to pull off. Marco couldn't care less if he had to die a hundred times more, but he preferred a confrontation before the kill.

While Marco planned his next efforts, the siege unexpectedly began sooner than he anticipated. Viana was dragged into warfare, and the bells signalled the first attack.

Held up inside a castle in the heart of the city were the Count of Lerin and Ferdinand II of Aragon. They were both political leaders Marco had heard of, and they all shared a common enemy.

A usual morning breeze in early Spring was welcomed by the call of birds, but Viana awoke to the call of arms. Marco watched it all from afar atop a horse he borrowed. He waited long enough for this moment, and it would be during this siege that Cesare dies.

Trebuchets in the rear commence the attack with boulders. It was followed by an uproar of armored men charging into battle with their spears gripped forwards. Cannons rolled closer within the town's alleys and shredded cobble walls and defenses. The mortars provided artillery fire that rained hell from above, turning the once beautiful and lush green landscape of Viana's fields into a crater-infested hellfest. Smoke riddled the once breathable air and added asphyxiation to the cause of death amongst many today.

Marco took a deep breath and inspected himself. All he had was a short sabre. He was without armor, nor a helmet. With just his blade and his usual black shirt and pants, he was ready. Normally, this would have been suicide for anyone, including him. But when death is merely just a minor inconvenience, he wasted no more time.

He charged into the warzone atop his mount and narrowed his eyes. Emerging from a neighboring forest, he was already behind Borgia lines. Dozens of men here rode their horses over the grass and through an open field, and he followed them.

Many of these soldiers didn't pay any attention to him, but a few did. Those that spotted him pursued him. Marco focused on rushing forward and narrowly dodged arrows from behind. His eyes scanned everything ahead, searching for anyone that looked important amidst the battlefield.

His horse leapt over some barricades and he reached the cobble paths. Here, hundreds of men laid waste to one another in close-quarter combat. Marco never stopped however and galloped past the riots and fires. He saw people resorting to pummeling heads with bricks, wrestling each other to the ground and shanking them in their armpits, calves or waists.

Mortar fire bombarded the streets in fits of explosions that rocked the Earth. They were the newest addition to this battle that Marco had only seen once previously. It made his life all the more difficult to cover his eyes from the smoke and debris that scattered in the air. Houses were leveled, their rooftops breaking apart in chunks that rained over the road and crushed unfortunate souls below.

His mount trampled over a few soldiers, and several more arrows were fired his way. Because of Marco's position, he was being shot at by both the Borgia and Ferdinand's defending army. He never announced his arrival or met with any allies, so his appearance made him a target to every single man on the battlefield.

The once sunny sky soon darkened. As if God himself wanted to set the perfect scene, a crack of thunder bellowed in the distance as the first drops of rain fell over the town. It made scanning the environment all the harder for Marco, but his luck hadn't run out just yet.

In the distance by the castle walls was one man considerably more armored than the rest. His red shoulderplates confirmed his affiliation to the Borgia, and he had a significant presence of security around him. Marco never stopped to get a clearer look, he continued his chase throughout his examination.

Cannon fire obliterated a wall beside him, and his horse galloped faster either out of panic or desperation. Another barrage of arrows rained down upon him, and his mount suffered as a result. The horse collapsed, bringing Marco down with it. But his fall turned into a tumble that soon got him back on his feet, and he left his dying horse behind to continue the chase on foot.

He sprinted heavily down the city, vaulting over a fence and landing back on grass again. A number of soldiers emerged from the castle that rode away into a forest. They looked to be Ferdinand's troops. He wouldn't have paid any regards if it wasn't for a few of the Borgia chasing them from behind. As Marco grew closer, he could partially make out the appearance of the armored man in red. This only motivated him further.

It was Cesare. Marco took evasive maneuvers around many Borgia soldiers and local allies. The whole world was out to get him but he maintained his direct pursuit. He rammed himself against a soldier, and he quickly snatched a canteen that hung around his waist. Marco ran with the canteen, chugging all the water he could get to keep his stamina up. He chucked the empty container in the face of the closest adversary.

All the while, his chase was never-ending. Not once had he ever stopped for a second to catch his breath or regain his footing. When his wrath was set on execution, it was all he focused on. A neigh from behind caused Marco to plunge to the ground in an evasive roll, and he narrowly avoided a decapitation from the cavalry.

The horse ahead stood on its hind legs as its rider readied another attack, but Marco was already on it. He ran for the horse and leapt forward, tackling straight into its rider. The animal neighed louder and took off in an instant while Marco struggled to throw the soldier off. Their combined weight slowed the horse down.

Marco's worry suddenly ended when a lion ahead pounced in the air and caught the soldier. It dragged him off the horse as Marco was left to stabilize himself atop his mount and look behind. Regardless if Set saved him or not, he didn't forget that the lion was an unloyal traitor. He'll never trust the damned beast again.

As the thunderstorm worsened around them, Marco maintained full pursuit behind the Borgia cavalry. He chased them into the forest and he took drastic measures. With his sword in hand, he slashed one of the riders down and followed behind the rest.

Inside this forest, they were away from the heavy bombardments. Now, these men were trapped here with him. One by one, the Borgia died to his blade until one remained. Cesare himself was in the lead, and Marco had finally caught him.

Against the horse's will, he forced it to ram into Cesare's mount. Both animals collided, and both riders tumbled to the dirt below.

Marco immediately stood and ran to deliver the killing blow despite his internal wishes of confronting him. He wanted to end it once and for all, but he grew reckless. Cesare already reached for his weapon and rolled away.

The young Borgia leapt to his feet and locked his blade against Marco's. They resisted one another until the Immortal gained the upper hand through nothing but sheer anger and determination. He pushed himself against Cesare and pinned him to a tree as their wrestle continued.

Cesare lowered his head and found the strength to push Marco back, but it was all accounted for. Marco grabbed his arms and yanked him around, shoving him backwards behind one of the horses. He charged into him, but his attack backfired. Cesare already stepped away, and the horse panicked as it kicked behind, its hoofs pounding into Marco's sides and launching him aside. 

The horse fled, and Marco remained laying over the dirt. His aggression wasn't helping, it only made him reckless. He looked around for Cesare, spotting him nearby catching his breath. The Borgia spoke aloud. "Marco Settini, you're supposed to be dead."

The downpour of rain intensified as lightning flashed. Marco stood up and kept his sword lowered, its tip touching the ground. He said nothing in return.

Resting in front of a nearby tree was Set, slouched against it and smiling as it enjoyed the show. It would not help, nor sabotage him, but it rather spectated.

"If I had known you would cause this much trouble, I'd have personally killed your family and forced you to watch." Cesare lifted his sword and straightened himself. "After the embarrassment I endured because of your petty resistance, you deserve a fate worse than death."

"You're going to die tonight." Marco flourished his blade once, he was going to enjoy this. "There is nothing you can do to change that. Not even killing me will save you. Because there's something you must know, Cesare. Within me lies four thousand years worth of anger that would want nothing more than to watch you bleed to death."

He stepped forward and readied himself for the fight. "Of all people, it was you who finally unleashed it."

Suddenly, Cesare rushed forward. He tried to attack while Marco spoke, but it was deflected. Their swords clashed and both men stood their ground. Just the two of them alone in a forest as a storm raged above them. Only one would leave here alive.

"Bastardo!" Cesare fought back, but he was clearly outmatched here. "You think muttering nonsense will distract me?"

He was shoved back, and despite the perfect opportunity that arose for Marco to kill him, he did no such thing. Instead, he remained on the defensive. He'll attack once he feels satisfied.

"I have faced hundreds of armies, Cesare." Marco deflected another attack and focused more on his speech than the actual fight. "I have fought the world's most powerful nations and I have experienced more of life than you ever possibly could in a thousand lifetimes!"

The young Borgia swung his blade in a barrage of jabs, all of which either missed or were parried. "You lie! You're just an insect that refuses to die!"

"And I never will die." He finally decided to say the words he had kept concealed for centuries. "I am immortal. I have lived for over four thousand years and I will continue to live long after you're dead and buried."

"Impossible! This trickery will not fool me." Cesare once more lunged for an attack, only for it to lead nowhere. Marco was only just getting started.

"You cannot conceive of my power. The millions of deaths I've witnessed can drive any man towards insanity, yet I still stand."

Lightning flashed overhead, and a bellow of thunder rumbled as Cesare screamed again. "Silence!"

"I was there in the ancient dunes of Egypt." Marco could still see Set smiling back, it clearly found it amusing. "Then came the blood-soaked battlefields of Greece, through Pompeii's flames and through the full might of the Saxon Empire..."

"Enough of this!" 

"Through a river of blood and a path of savagery..."

"Damn you!"

"Through the end of the Crusades, a deadly plague and through the leadership of a young girl's path towards freedom; I have seen and lived through it all!" 

"I said silence!"

Finally, they stopped. Cesare struggled to breathe, his exhaustion caught up to him. Marco, however, was unscathed. He stood tall and basked in the glory. Now he was satisfied.

Just beyond the storm's downpour, he could hear some distant horses. It seemed Ferdinand's forces were returning. He had to end this soon.

"I refuse to believe this madness." Cesare coughed and readied his sword, but it would do him no good.

Marco walked forward now with full intent to kill. One more weak attack from Cesare came his way as he swung his arm, only for Marco to block it. Then, the Immortal's blade took an upward jab and pierced through the man's chest.

For a second, they both stood in silence while Marco's hand rested over Cesare's lips. But once he pulled the sword from his chest, he threw the young Borgia to the dirt. Marco looked away as he sheathed his blade. Cesare was still alive, but even he knew that wouldn't be for long.

"You see, Cesare," Marco looked back at his dying rival momentarily. "Unlike me, when you take your last breath; you will never return."

"If you really are destined to walk over these lands for an eternity, then may God curse each year you continue to live for." Cesare's last words were said, and he succumbed to his injuries. Silence had overtaken them as the sounds of rain echoed throughout Marco's ears.

Marco turned his back and walked off.

"Arrivederci."

By the time Ferdinand's men arrived, Marco was long gone. They didn't know he had assassinated the Borgia's most powerful man.

One of Ferdinand's knights held a spear and jabbed it into Cesare's lifeless corpse, confirming the kill. Afterwards, his body was stripped of his belongings as the knights left the scene. Cesare was abandoned, fully nude with only a red tile covering his privates as his blood continued to spill.

Marco's trip back to Italy was peaceful, it only took a few days to reach Florence after his fight. Along the way, he was given the chance to clear his mind. Now that his greatest threat was extinguished, he could make amends and set things right with his family.

Right by the city gates was a beautiful and cozy villa resting over fields of green and surrounded by lush vegetation. The vast colors of the Renaissance painted across the landscape stood out the most here, and it felt soothing. This was everything he ever wanted.

He approached the door. He could hear two female voices speaking to one another inside the house, discussing plans to attend the market for new wares. Marco smiled, he knew they were safe. Therefore, he raised a hand to knock on the door and thought over his speech.

But right before he knocked, he stopped. His smile faded away as he thought more to himself. If he returns now, there's no telling what would happen to them. After what had happened, whatever wounds were inflicted on his relationship with his family were now scars that would remain forevermore. The fear of facing them again, and the consequences of his past actions caused him to freeze.

He stood outside the door for several minutes, unsure of what to do. The moment he heard footsteps inside reach the door, his eyes widened.

Livia opened the door. "Come, Kara. Remember not to wander off." They walked off as Marco hid behind the villa's corner and watched them. He teared up as he made his mind.

Marco turned around and left his family behind. The next day, he slipped a letter under their door. He never stayed to see their reaction, but he only hoped the letter would bring them closure.

Beloved Livia,

I have taken the liberty to write a farewell letter in the event of my death beforehand. If you find this letter well, then know that I have passed. It pains me to leave you behind alone and afraid, but you must have no fear. Whether or not I live, my mission will be successful and I guarantee it. From this day onward, know that you are forever safe and away from harm. Cesare Borgia's death will mark the end of it, and he will be dead by the time you receive my message.

Even in death, I will always be there to accompany you and Kara in spirit. Live the happiest life you can perceive, it's what you both deserve. It saddens me to know I will never be there to hold your hands again, but I die happy that I was able to live my life to the end with you by my side. I apologize for everything I had done and lied about, and I never expect to be forgiven. Rest assured that you have my love till the end of time, and I wish you both nothing but contentment. Thank you for offering some of the happiest years of my life. Send Kara my kindest regards, and let her know how much her father is proud of her. I know she will always protect you, just as I have taught her to do so.

Best wishes,

Marco Settini.

Marco fled to Rome and lived alone. When there weren't any battles to fight, he would often stand in the heart of the city, turning to watch the birds fly over structures he could remember from his youth. There wasn't a single care in the world. It was as if time had completely stopped.

For the first time in a very long time, he felt that he's aged.

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Historical Notes:

"Arrivederci" is Italian for "Goodbye".

Cesare Borgia's memoir in his tomb has undergone several changes, located in the Church of Santa Maria in Viana. But his tomb was later destroyed, and his remains were removed due to his 'villainous' nature. It was inappropriate to keep a 'degenerate' like him within a church, therefore he was reburied underneath a street in front of the church to be trampled on for an eternity.

Cesare Borgia's epitaph before its destruction

His remains would be removed from the street in 1945, taken for forensics and confirmed to be the Borgia's skeleton. Despite many modern attempts, the Church of Santa Maria continues to refuse to bury his remains inside. However, it is stated by one of the church officials that they have nothing against the transfer of his remains. That whatever he may have done in life, he deserves to be forgiven now.

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