A/N: I started writing this just because i can't play the 11th sequence of the game. And after reading the book i was somewhat upset.

If there are any mistakes, please inform me and i'll fix them right away.

I do not own the game or the characters.


"We found her."

Those simple words made my mind wander in the past, thinking about what happened the night my father died and my life changed. Words that made me go back to Europe just after I discovered the First Civilization site to find Jenny and kill Birch.

Now I sit on a dusty chair in the Green Dragon Inn, the same in which I began to build a Templar force in the Colonies.

While I wait for Charles, I think about how much I changed in all those years.

Once, overzealous Templar, sure to have done the right choices. Now?

After discovering that my life was based on lies, I no longer have the certainty on something. I find myself near the Templar way of thinking. The idea of order is certainly more reasonable than the childish need for freedom of the Assassins. But I miss the teaching of my father, what he wanted for me.

They always pictured the Assassins as the evil of the world, something to burn and delete. But why?

I feel the need to speak with someone who deeply knows the philosophy of the Assassin's way, but the fact that I am the Master of the Templar Order made me give up.

Especially when I found out what my friends Templar had done in the past, wiping out every Assassin in the colonies and burning the Mohawk's camp. The same in which Ziio lived. I often find myself thinking about her, wondering if things could have been different. Regretting that I didn't fight more to be together.

I am deeply sunk in those thoughts when I see Charles coming my way. He transmits a tired mood and he is much more scruffy than usual. Something passes in his eyes. Discouragement? Sadness? I haven't figured it out even now.

-Things are not going well. – He says. Not that I haven't understood that myself. After the Tea Party things went on rather complicated. – And there's something you need to know. – He continues, ordering a beer.

That intrigues me. What else are they hiding from me? I was the Master just by name, they took the decisions, most of the times without even talking to me.

And I found myself even more far from them.

-I'm listening…. - I say, since he seems reluctant to talk.

He wearily takes the pitcher and drinks a long sip before continuing.

-When we told you about what happened at the Tea Party there was a detail we kept for ourselves. – He looks at me, trying to understand my reaction on what he is about to say. I prepare myself, of course. I have more years and experience than him. Besides, I taught him the secrets of the profession. – That day, we saw a particular person. I think that he was the same figure I met near the Mohawk's camp. He was throwing the tea like everyone else, but when he saw us he looked with challenge and threw the last crate. He knew us. And his clothes... where those of an Assassin. –

I have to admit that I recovered after a couple of minutes. An Assassin?

-You told me that you wiped all them out. – I try to take time, reorganizing the thoughts.

-Yes, except one. We let him go with the promise he would abandon his Creed. –

I find myself smiling. The most illogic thing when you chase down an enemy is letting anyone survive. That makes no sense at all.

-Who is him?-

-Achilles Davenport. We lost his traces since then. We thought him dead. –

So there's an old Assassin wandering around and we don't know where he is. Excellent. But I am much more afraid of the younger one, with his hate towards the Templars. And with all that happened, I find hard to think otherwise.

-What should we do?-

That paralyses me. He asks for advice? To me? After all they have done by themselves? I find that ironic.

-Well, the most obvious thing is to find and kill them. I can take care of that by myself. –

While I was saying that a thought passes through my mind. Could it be possible that I found the person to talk to? Could my Templars friends find something? It was a dangerous path to follow. Maybe too much, considering that it was just to satisfy my curiosity. Or there was something else?

-While you go on with anything you're doing. – I continue.

Something passes in Charles's eyes, but this time I catch it: disgust.

I cannot blame him. The person he took as mentor no longer exist.

-You know, I noticed that when you came back from Europe you were somewhat... different. –

So much insightful, I think. By now also the chairs in this Inn would have guessed so. I nod, tired.

-What happened there helped me to put things under another point of view. Now I am just trying to elaborate. - I say, not going too far from reality.

I distractedly toy with my Templar ring.

He watches me without understanding. And how could he? I can barely understand all that myself.

-It has something to do with Birch's death? – He looks at me. I understand he was really concerned and that breaks my heart. – I understood you two were particularly close.-

He was right. At some point I started to consider him as my father. It was the part in which he continually lied to me that made me think otherwise.

-Killed by a woman, I've heard. – He continues. I nod. Jenny wanted to do it, even though I wanted to take care of that myself.

I understand that Charles wants an answer from me. I reorder my thoughts.

-Yes, we were particularly close. He raised me when my father died. – I sigh. – When I was in Europe it happened all so quickly that I hadn't the time to think about it. Now I am trying to figure it all out, sadly with little outcome. – I continue to watch Charles. Could I open myself to him? He respects me and he seems to be really concerned. But would he understand? I reject this idea after a couple of seconds.

-But I will recover shortly. – I start again. – For the Order. – I say, smiling.

I hope I have been persuasive. His gaze lightens, so I think I was.

-All right, Haytham. If there are problems I know where you live. – He gets up, but before exiting the Inn, he puts a hand on my shoulder, watching me. – And if you need something, or if you just need to talk, you know where to find me. – And after that he walks towards the door and throws himself into the busy streets of Boston.

I ask myself if there was something more behind the simple courtesy to visit my house in Virginia. He changed too in those years, becoming much more ruthless and heartless. Even if he seems to be guided by discouragement.