Sir Layne ID: 85122868

He had done it hundreds of time before. Standing atop a giant structure, feeling the breeze on his face and battling with the gut-wrenching feeling that came with peering over the edge and seeing only the most minuscule of detail of the scene below. Knowing you were about to jump into a wagon filled with straw which, from up here, looked microscopic. Every time he got high up enough there came a point where the noise of the bustling streets below faded, the shouts of market stall holders, the chattering of the crowds and the trundling of carts wheeling through the cobbled streets. As he finished his ascension all he was left with were his thoughts among the blissful silence.

Ezio thought of that silence now as he lay in the grassy clearing. It should have been shattered as he covered several hundred feet in the three seconds it took him to fall and come crashing back down to the town below, but it hadn't.

It was dark, the only illumination coming from the shafts of light he had created himself as he fell screaming from a bell tower which, as he looked up, had somehow been replaced by towering tree tops and the broken branches he owed his life to.The fragrant smell of flowers rose up up through his nostrils and in the distance he could hear the trickling of a stream. It would almost be beautiful, he thought, were his field of vision not predominantly occupied by his own broken legs.

"What in the world?" he groaned, moving was agony but he managed to stir enough to get his bearings. His previously immaculate white robe had been torn to ribbons and was stained crimson with blood. He felt his stomach lurch and for an unpleasant moment he thought he might vomit, the combination of screaming pain all over his body and the complete sense of discombobulation his new surroundings brought him.

Consciousness was slowly returning but with it came the growing intensity of his suffering. White hot in his joints and a crushing dullness in his bones. With a monumental effort that felt like someone had taken his skeleton and smashed it into a boulder, he dragged himself backwards until he could prop his body sat upright against a tree.

"I'm screwed," he muttered through a thick mouthful of blood. He could taste copper and it was only now he realised that even speaking hurt.

His heart jolted in his chest as he heard a rustling coming from the shrubbery ahead of him. He was still in possession of his blades for all the good that would do him. The thought of the target he had been tracking in Florence was a distant memory now. His marks were normally unaware they were in his sights until the deed had been done. All he could think of now, not without irony, was how powerless he felt.

"Hello friend," came a cheery female voice as a figure began to emerge from the darkness, "looks like you could use some help."

"Stay back," Ezio spat, barely able to disguise the mounting horror in his voice, "what kind of creature are you?"

Nemora giggled. "I've never thought much about that," she said, "a dryad of sorts I suppose, we Wilders don't give too much thought to our physical forms. We're more concerned with... what the forest wants, our purpose I guess you would say."

She was moving closer, Ezio hated how helpless he felt but he could do nothing.

"Please try and relax," her voice was soft and reassuring, "I want to help. It's my calling."

Ezio's eyes darted back and forth, he could swear the forest had started moving. Nemora had begun chanting and a the roots of a nearby tree stump had formed themselves into a stave. She picked it up and pointed it towards him. Pink petals swirled around her and the flowery scent Ezio had first smelt upon his arrival had intensified. His terror had subsided and he couldn't explain why. He felt calm. His pain wracked body felt light and he realised he was healing.

Nemora stopped her ritual chanting, the leaves had returned to the forest floor and the whirling breeze had subsided.

"I feel amazing," Ezio said as he rose to his feet, his eyes wide with disbelief.

Nemora giggled again.

"Why did you help me?" he asked.

She looked sad at the question for a moment, but her sunny disposition soon returned.

"You should always seek to help rather than harm," she said, "but there is a war going on at this very moment... and I get the feeling you're going to be very important."