Between the walls of the Assassin's hideout, Ezio stood surrounded by the hushed whispers of his mentors.

Ezio's eyes wandered to the shelves with ancient tomes and relics. Curiosity tugged at him, and he silently slipped away towards the library.

Carefully he ran his fingers over the spines of leather-bound volumes. He paused at a particularly old tome, its pages yellowed with age, and delicately traced the faded script.