Prologue
1766, August 18th
It had all started that very day when my parents died.
A day of summer, not too far from my sixth birthday, I woke up at the smell of smoke and when I opened my eyes I looked straight into an inferno. The fume threatened to suffocate me and I rolled down from my bed, hitting the wooden floor. I tried to scream but the only sounds that escaped my sore throat was coughs and whimpers. The heat burned against my body and I braced myself for the painful death that was coming for sure.
Then He came to my rescue.
In the middle of the fire, he emerged victorious from the flames and lifted me from the creaking floorboards. He smashed the nearest window with a strong kick and quickly carried me through it and we escaped
onto a roof. I could see the dying sun, setting from its seat in the sky, and it was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
"Hey, are you alright?"
His accent immediately revealed his origin and I was surprised that a British nobleman would've saved me from certain death. I tried to focus my blurry eyes on his face but the tears made it impossible and I creaked out a weak answer.
"Yes. Thank… you, kind sir," I swallowed. "Did you… perhaps save my family as well?"
He dried my cheeks with his gloved hand and I blinked away the rest of the tears. When I saw his sad countenance it felt like I died.
"No," he replied and bit his lower lip. "I'm terribly sorry but I didn't find anyone except you."
My heart almost stopped beating as my mind repeated his words over and over again, rewinding them like a defect gramophone. I didn't find anyone except you. It felt like he had never saved me from the fire but left me there and was watching me burn. I wanted to scream. I wanted to shout. I wanted to go back inside the house to search it thoroughly, even with the incinerating heat. But most of all, I wanted to die.
"Please sir," I begged and started to cry. "Please go back inside and check if it's true, that they're really gone."
His dark, hazelnut-colored eyes examined me for a moment before nodding.
"Can you stand up?"
I nodded and he crouched down to put me on my feet. He glanced back at me before leaping back into the burning building next to the one I stood on, the building that had contained my home for so many years.
I was taken aback at how agile he moved. He must've been around forty-years old but was motioning with such nimbleness that I felt old. The nobleman vanished into the smoke and even though I could see a troublesome amount of smoke and fire, something deep inside of me told me that he was going to be alright.
People on the street were finally starting to help subduing the fire and where I stood on the roof, I could see them carry wagons of water to extinguish the flames. Even small children helped with the cooperation.
"Hello again, little girl."
His voice startled me so much that I almost slipped but he quickly grabbed my arm.
"Be careful. Standing on roofs can be a bit tricky," he said jokingly and gestured for me to come closer. "Here, I'll get you down to ground level."
"Did you find my family?" I asked, even though I knew the answer. "Anybody?"
He shook his head slowly but didn't turn his face away from me.
"Those who planned the fire were very exact with their job," he said and frowned. "Damned be the assassins."
I brought myself closer to his arms and he raised me up.
"'Assassins'?"
The man shook his head and chose to ignore my question.
"Hold tight onto me and close your eyes."
I gripped his expensive-looking coat with my one hand and put the other around his neck while shutting my stinging eyes. Though I couldn't see anything, I felt how he slid down the roof and climbed down the wall. He reached the ground with a grunt and let me down.
"So, are you alright from now?" he asked and patted my head with his hand. "I have to take my leave; I was in quite a hurry when I saw the fire."
I didn't know what to answer. Was he going to leave me? Why couldn't he stay? Who was he?
"I'm thankful for you saving me, sir," I replied and tried not to cry again. I had lost everything. "Yes, I'm fine for now."
He nodded and turned his back at me, walking away, and waved a goodbye.
I was lying. I wanted to die. I had so many questions. But the only thing I could muster up to inquire was the simplest of them.
"Sir!" I ranted and sprinted after him. "Sir, if it's not too much to ask, I would very much like to know your name, please."
He looked down at me and smiled amused.
"My name is Haytham Kenway, little girl."
And then he disappeared.