After the conversation with the old woman, Fia (who Miranda would later learn was an Elder of the Dragon Clan, someone of great importance), she had promptly been left to her own devices for the night. The first thing she did was rummage through her dirtied messanger bag, as it contained the only remnants of her old life from the future (a somewhat ironic thought in and of itself).
What she found included her dead cell phone, her mp3 player, some chapstick, an emery board, a compass (she pocketed this, remembering her horrible sense of direction), her wallet (with$5.46 inside as well as her state ID and GameStop card), a couple of pens, a library book the library would never see the likes of again, a notepad, and a leather journal with the Dragon Clan symbol painted in silver on the front.
This last item, confused Miranda, as she had never owned it previously. The only logical idea of how it could have come into her possession would have been when Cleo had held her bag that day. She must have slipped it inside. Opening it up, Miranda moved the black ribbon marker out of the way impatiently, studying the beige colored pages. The front page was blank, as was normal for journals, and the page after that was already was marked on, the Dragon Clan symbol once again making an apperance in the top of the page in black. Below that were the words "The Dragon's Creed."
" One, when done unto you, return the favor. Two, never show your enemy mercy. Three, never compromise the Clan..." Miranda read aloud. "Only the last one is the same as the Brotherhood's Creed..."
Turning the page, she spotted a note folded neatly into a square between the two blank pages. Taking it in her hands she unfolded it and read silently from the candle's light she had lit awhile ago. The note was from Cleo, confirming her earlier thought of the journal being given to her by the odd-woman. It also went on to tell her that Cleo encouraged the brunette to write down her what she was taught and her own ideas of the world and its workings for future generations.
Miranda almost scoffed at the idea. Almost.
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After a night of crying herself to sleep at the thought of never seeing her sometimes annoying family, she was back to work the next morning. But not by Vittoria as she had thought would happen. Instead she was placed under the tutelage of the man from before, Demetrio.
Now that it was daytime, she was able to get a good look at the man that would be teaching her for many years on how to be an Assassin of the Dragon Clan.
He had shaggy black hair that usually fell into the way of his gray eyes, though he kept the back of his hair tied with a length of leather. He had a rather tanned complexion and a scar along his right cheek from a mission in his lower ranked Assassin days. He wore the uniform again, giving Miranda a clear view of what the male's variety looked like.
There was a high collared black shirt with puffy sleeves under the raspberry-red tunic. The tunic itself was clapsed shut down the center by about six or so buckles, the hood attached to the sleeveless tunic was made to shadow the Assassin's face. This left a slit up the front of the tunic up to the man's pelvic area where the buckles stopped, and a slit up the back for mobility reasons. The tunic was lined in gold. A leather belt that held five throwing knives on Demetrio's left and three large pouches along the right and back of the belt was worn over a gold sash that tied to the right and left the ends trailing down to the man's knees. This left dark trousers to be tucked into high leather boots.
There was also the short sword holster strapped to the man's shoulders so that it laid on his back (much like Miranda remembered seeing Altair's when she had played Assassin's Creed in her own time) as well as a small holster on the right shoulder that held five more throwing knives: a thin rapier sword of sorts shoved between the belt and sash on the left, as well, to which Demetrio would frequently rest his left arm along the sheathed sword.
Over the puffy sleeves of the black shirt on both arms was a strange mechanism. It was metal on the top and buckled around the arms on the bottom. The metal had a tribal dragon etched into it and painted a black color to make it stand out. On top of the metal casing, by the elbow and over the back of the end was a piece of tough leather.
When asked about it, Demetrio flicked his right wrist hard, ejecting four blades that reminded Miranda of Wolverine from X-Men.
"Instead of hidden blades, like the Brotherhood Assassins' use, we've made use of these retractable claws." Demetrio had explained. "Only the best of our Clan's Assassins are allowed to hold two of these, however."
After that the real training had begun. Though he didn't hit her with a wooden fan, like Vittoria, he had his own way of making Miranda work hard. It usually consisted of whatever punishment came to mind that day. He was never consistant with what the punishment would be if she failed to do as she was asked to, but Demetrio always made sure it was something Miranda would not wish to go through again.
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Several weeks had passed before Vittoria had ordered Miranda to wear one of the actual dresses the woman had gotten her. Miranda chose the only one that she liked. It was black and strapless, but fit tight around the upper body so as not to fall loose on the child. The top and bottom of the dress was lined in gold. The front of her hips and just above her bottom was a large bow that matched the Dragon Clan's Assassin's uniform colors, with two large strips of the same colored cloth drapped over the sides of the dress connecting the two bows. Of course, she kept the black headband around her forehead to conceal the mark as well.
When asked why she was forced to wear the dress (though she had won the small argument over whether or not she could wear the more comfortable leather boots over the pinchy shoes), Vittoria had answered: "You stay cooped up all day, even after your training, so you're going with Demetrio here." At this she paused and clapped a hand over the taller man's shoulder, who was dressed in more noble clothes (though they still retained the normal black/gray, dark reds, and gold of their Assassin's uniform). "He's going to meet with an ally of ours to discuss something important coming up in the next few days and you'll be going along with."
The house they had gone to was of a noble bankerman's, Giovanni Auditore di Firenze's. Miranda realized this was also the house of the main character of the would have been new Assassin's Creed game, and she vaguely wondered what the boy would be like.
Demetrio led the way to the door, before both of them were escorted to a large living room area by one of the maids. Demetrio had come on Assassin business. It was Giovanni's last field mission; and he would be the only Dragon Clan Assassin going to assist.
This was nothing new, it was usual for at least one of the the Dragon Clan's Assassin's to go on missions with the Brotherhood's Assassin's and vice versa so each one would know of how the other's allies were getting along. What was important was that Giovanni come out alive, so that he could continue to support and love his wife, sons, and daughter (and any future children they may have, god willing).
That was why Demetrio had come, to discuss the finer points of the mission, so that both could go over any potential dangers and come up with any possible ways around them.
He didn't have to wait long. "Demetrio, it's been awhile." Giovanni greeted warmly as he walked into the room, shaking hands with his fellow Assassin.
"Yes, too long, in fact." Demetrio smiled, clasping the man's shoulder and giving him a friendly shake before they both let go.
"And who might this young lady be?" the Auditore man inquired, raising a brow at the young girl standing beside Demetrio, her arms crossed over her chest and her feet shuffling across the floor as her eyes memorized the room around her (one of Demetrio's teachings, to memorize any new area for possible dangers and escape routes, etc.).
"This would be my, ah, assistant." Demetrio stressed seriously. Giovanni got the message and nodded his understanding to the shaggy-haired assassin.
"I see. Perhaps she would like to explore my home while we talk?" Giovanni asked, though Miranda was positive it wasn't really a question. She nodded anyways, to be polite.
"I'd like that, mister." she stated, watching the two men leave down the hallway. She waited several minutes before following after, stumbling a little over the dress' skirts in her hurry.
Along the way, looking for the doorway the two had undoubtedly disappeared behind to talk privately, the brunette managed to trip over the end of her dress and falling straight down, banging her chin on the hard ground and landing with a hard 'thud.' Laughter only heated her face up in embarrasment (it meant someone had witnessed the moment) and she hurriedly pushed herself up and brushed her dress off before glaring at the source of the laughter.
It was a boy, about eight, two years older than her 'current' age. He had short dark hair and dark brown eyes with tanned skin. He wore long sleeved white shirt outlined in gold with a type of bright red design on the shoulders. A red sash wrapped around the waist, dark trousers covered his legs and were tucked messily into brown leather boots common of this time period.
"What kind of a girl trips over her own skirt?!" he managed between the raucaus laughs.
Miranda huffed angrily, still flushed with embarrasment. "At least I'm not a jerk! What's you're name?"
"Hey! Don't be so rude! This is my home!"
"You still didn't answer! What's your damn name!?"
"It's Ezio! Now who're you?!" he shot back in frustration.
"I'm Miranda!"
"Well, Miranda, you should be nicer when you're in someone else's home!"
"I would be if I weren't talking to a jerk-pig!"
It should be noted that while this verbal spar was going on both were becoming redder and redder in the face from frustration and anger. Ezio, having the egotistical thoughts of childhood, didn't even try to control his temper, though Miranda was at fault as well, as she had never been one for even attempting to calm herself down when angered.
"Who are you calling a 'jerk-pig', wench!" the boy cried out the word he had heard on the streets, not knowing exactly what it meant but knowing it was some sort of an insult.
Miranda however, having once been eighteen in a different time, knew full-well the meaning of 'wench' and only grew angrier. "I'm calling a bratty bastard of a nobleman's son a 'jerk-pig', jerk-pig!" Miranda shot out, sticking her tongue out and blowing a raspberry rudely.
Ezio's shoulder's and fists began to shake in anger as the argument drew longer and Miranda's voice swiftly grew louder and louder until not only had several maids and servants of the Auditore house arrived to check out the noises, but so had Demetrio and Giovanni.
While Giovanni dealt with the child that would be an assassin in the future, Demetrio immediately cuffed Miranda on her ear causing her to grunt and cover the offended appendage. "What exactly do you think you were doing?" the man hissed, loud enough for Miranda to hear the anger in his voice but quiet enough that the others in the hallway couldnot hear him.
"I was putting a jerk-pig in his place!" Miranda whispered back, noticing how shameful the situation really was now that her anger was ebbing away, albeit slowly.
"Have you learned nothing of my teachings? No matter what the boy did, you should have ignored it!" Demetrio grunted, still leveling a very intimidating glare at the girl.
"... He started it..." was the only reponse she could think of to defend herself. As childish as it sounded, she figured she was entitled to it, seeing her current age.
Behind her, Ezio was getting a similar lecture from his father and Miranda couldn't help but think that the boy was a brat and that she hoped he would grow out of it by the time he was older.