AN: Hi Again! (or for the first time ^u^) This is only my like fourth attempt writing fanfiction and my first time writing something for Assassin's Creed, so hopefully it's not too bad...(and my grammar is ok)
I Absolutely LOVE the entire series of AC but I have never been able to really come up with an idea for any fanfiction to write about it, but then this idea just popped into my head (I was always thinking about this) and Viola! So I hope you enjoy the (very short) story~!
Disclaimer: I don't own Assassin's Creed or anything that relates to it (Unfortunately...) it all belongs to Ubisoft. But this story is mine :3
I reached the top of the tower grabbing what had caught my attention –a feather-.
Ever since the death of my father and brothers, I had taken up the chore of collecting feathers just as my youngest brother once begged me to do.
He had kept the feathers I always collected for him in that little chest of his, although, I could never figure out why. He had told me that he would explain his secret to me in time 'but that's never going to happen now is it?' I though bitterly, tears coming to my eyes at the thought of my diseased family.
But even though my little brother was gone I had continued to collect feathers for my mother 'But also for yourself...' a voice told me in the back of my mind. No matter the reason though, I had continued to collect feathers. However, I never decided how many feathers I should collect thinking I would know when I was done.
After I had collected around 50 feathers My Uncle came to me and told that it was no use collecting feathers any longer and that I should focus on more important things. I ignored his words of course and diligently collected feathers as I had before.
As I collected the feathers I wondered just why my brother had wanted these feathers so dearly...But I'm finished now, this is my hundredth feather and I feel as though that was all my brother had wanted.
And now as I stand here on this tower overlooking Florence I think I have finally figured out why my little brother wanted all these feathers.
I think that all my brother ever wanted was to have wings, fly, and be free. He was always trapped in his bed, never being able to go outside and be free like normal children.
Maybe that was why I never saw him cry the day Him, Father and Federico were hung –He wasn't afraid- maybe he thought that he would finally be free and have his wings.
But maybe I'll never know what was really on the mind of my younger brother.
Shaking my head I break myself from these depressing thoughts, looking over the city once more I walk over to the edge of the viewpoint. And Fly.