A one-shot of Shay I thought of a while back, but decided to post it for Rogue's release date. This was written before all the walkthroughs came out and I have refused to watch them, so I still don't know much about Shay. I mostly wrote this to play around with his personality and character, so that being said, he will be inaccurate and may not be even consistent. This also set in the same universe as my other fanfic, Crossed Eagle. I recommend checking it out if you enjoy this. Even though I made this one-shot well-rounded, this is actually going be based on a dark setting, so be warned. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy! Leave a review and tell me what you think!
Historical background: During the 18th century, the three powers of the British, French, and Spanish Empires fought over dominance and control over North America. While British controlled the East Coast, Spanish controlled the more southern parts of America, such as Florida. As precaution of invasion from their Spanish neighbors, the British used the colony of Georgia as buffer zone by sending "unwanted" citizens there, such as outlaws, those who owe debt, lazy immigrants, etc. This did not exactly mean Georgia was a "lawless state," but for fictional purposes I thought it would be a good setting. However Great Britain seized control of Florida by the end of the French and Indian War, no longer using Georgia as a shield. This fanfiction takes place in 1863, after the end of the war and the events of Rogue.
Disclaimer: I do not own Shay, except for my interpretations and OCs
Warnings: rated M for violence and death, torture, mentions of racism/slavery, situations of angst
"The Assassins were once my brothers… Now I hunt them down to the Ends of the Earth." ~Shay Cormac
The roar of the crashing waves filled the air, the water slapping against the wet sand and rotting wood. A strong sea breeze blew over the shoreline, bringing a strong scent of salt. It stirred the flapping of British flags and urged seagulls to squawk in joy. Accompanying these sounds were the bellows of sailors as they unloaded their cargo onto the docks, filling the air with heavy slams.
Shay Cormac stepped off the ramp of the Morrigan, observing the docks. His crew would want shore leave. Fair enough, they deserved a break. They wouldn't be leaving for a while, anyway.
"Mr. Cormac!"
Shay glanced over to see a small, well-dressed man in a personally-tailored brown coat. The local looked only half of Shay's size as he neared, holding out a hand.
"Mr. Cormac, a pleasure to meet you," he greeted.
"Call me Shay," the Templar corrected bluntly.
The local nodded. He noticed Shay wasn't moving, so he lowered his hand but didn't seem to mind.
"Samuel Thrasher, at your service," he introduced instead. "I was asked to accompany you around the city."
Shay suppressed a groan. A babysitter. Great. Instead he said in a formal tone, "Fair enough. I believe I was supposed to meet another contact here."
"Yes, Daniel Smith. He's waiting for you at the local tavern." Thrasher was already turning. "I'll escort you."
Shay fell into stride by the shorter man as they entered the streets. First thing the Irishman noticed was that Savannah was no New York. Even though the streets were still unpaved, the streets were muddier with a darker soil. Buildings weren't near as tall or structured, most of them being wooden and randomly placed, though there seemed to be some attempt of organization. The only people were either black slaves or their white masters as they half-filled the streets. However the occasional immigrant could be spotted, like in all colonies. The sun burned overhead, only intensified by the growing humidity. It was enough difference to make Shay almost homesick for his urban birthplace.
The Templar half-listened as Thrasher babbled happily, either describing what to expect in Georgia and complimenting his accomplishments in the north. Shay was silent for the latter. Thrasher seemed to be a dulling average man: not too thin nor fat, nor strong nor weak, nor tall nor short. It looked like he could be dropped in any sea of people and perfectly blend in.
Finally they reached the tavern, quickly ducking inside. Immediately the former Assassin disliked the idea of having the meeting in such a public place, finding the tavern half-crowded and it was only noon. However he followed his escort obediently as Thrasher walked across the bar in a confident stride and nodded to the bartender. The bartender nodded back easily, not protesting as the man opened the back door and slipped inside. Immediately Shay relaxed when he realized this was the private backroom of the tavern. Only less than a handful took up the room, and Shay had a strong suspicion that they were Templars.
It was one man in particular that caught the Hunter's attention. He wore short hair, but it was untrimmed, having his bangs cover his eyes with long side-burns down his face. He was chugging down an ale when the newcomers entered, but immediately set it down when they neared.
"Ah, you must be Cap'ain Shay Cormac," he greeted. Shay wasn't surprised to find his accent slurred, but not as bad as Hickey's. Before the Templar could reply, Smith picked up his tankard again. "Welcome to Savannah."
Shay was silent as he settled in to chair across from him, Thrasher by his side. The Assassin Hunter decided to go straight to business.
"I've heard your group has been having problems with the Assassins," he started.
"Not exactly 'problems,' but they're stubborn, alright," Daniel replied. He set down his tankard and leaned forward. "They have control of every smuggler ring from every port up and down the coast to the woods of the frontier."
Thrasher raised an eyebrow. "That's a lot of smugglers."
Smith made a snort of agreement.
"And what about this Adam and Eve?" Shay pressed.
"From what we gather, they're the head of the Assassins 'round here," Smith reported. "Better yet, they're the masterminds of the entire Georgian underworld."
Shay quickly digested just how much power that was. They basically controlled the entire colony. Nonetheless he went on with what was on his mind. "So there are two, then?" He was honestly expecting it to be some poor misleading title for a single man.
"Aye, twins."
"So are they really named Adam and Eve?" Thrasher couldn't help but ask.
"No one knows for sure. But that's what they call themselves. And what everyone else calls them. But there are a few folks who believe it's just a fancy nickname."
"If we find them, could you point them out to us?"
"No."
Thrasher's eyes widened and Shay cocked an eyebrow as the man went on.
"Only a handful has seen them in person; fewer who know who they're talkin' to. Those who do won't budge. Point is: no one knows who they are."
Shay slumped back in his seat, arms folded. "Invisible targets. Perfect," he grumbled.
"It's going to be hard finding them," Thrasher mused, stating the obvious.
"At least tell me you have something useful," Shay demanded to Smith.
"You wouldn't be down here if I didn't," the Templar assured. "We have the exact location of several hideouts of their gangs. There's even one where Adam and Eve are said to visit. I can even show you."
Thrasher glanced at Shay. "I hear you have a lot of talent in infiltrating. Do you want to handle it?"
"I have a better idea," the Irishman replied. He looked to Smith. "Can you spare some of your men?"
"Of course."
Then Shay glanced at Thrasher. "Thrasher, go back to the Morrigan and talk to my quartermaster, Christopher Gist. See if he can send some of the crew ashore."
"Yes, sir," Thrasher confirmed. "May I ask what you intend?"
The Assassin Hunter smirked. "We knock on the front door."
The bright sky died to an even brighter inferno later that evening. Even though the heavens were painted with brilliant shades of scarlet, long shadows obscured the land below. These shadows were perfect for Shay and his men as they traveled through the more ghetto part of the city. No one questioned why a team of armed mercenaries was in this part of town, and no one stood in their way. There weren't even redcoats or sentries to stop them. This was far too easy for Shay, who was used to dealing with overzealous regulars in New York.
Finally they paused by a large warehouse, completely made out of pale, rotting wood. Shay quickly went over his arsenal: his favored sword and dagger, double hidden blades, two flintlocks, an air rifle with its grenade launcher, a belt of ammunitions, and multiple rope darts clipped to his side. The poor fools. Smith stood by his side, fiddling with his musket. Two flintlocks and a knife were clipped to his own belt. To the Irishman's surprise, Thrasher was in the mix, too. He was the last person Shay would consider a fighter. He looked too business-like.
"You can let us handle this," the Templar offered. Last thing he needed was his assumption to be proven true and lose a contact.
"No, I can participate," Trashed argued calmly, like he could read the man's thoughts. He unsheathed a long dagger, almost the same length of Shay's. Shay raised his eyebrows to find one side of the blade was serrated. That was a rare touch. Samuel wore a confident smirk, prompting Shay to let it go.
"You certain this is the place?" he asked Smith.
"Of course I'm certain," Daniel retorted.
"Let's go."
Shay pressed his back to the wood of the warehouse as he tapped the door with the back of his knuckles. The man waited patiently as he pulled out a flintlock and the mercenaries readied themselves. Soon the door creaked as a black crevice opened. Shay waited longer as the crevice widened to show a glimpse of a curious face. That face was replaced by a scream as Shay turned and gave the door a powerful kick.
Immediately the sound of splintering wood filled the air and the crevice was replaced by a gaping hole. Shay charged through only to enter a crowded room full of men and furniture. The Templar glanced to his right to see a gang member lunging towards him. The man halted him with a shot to the throat. Shay's mercenaries were barging in after him, pouncing on their own prey. But the Hunter couldn't pay them any mind as he spotted in the center of the room was a large wooden table surrounded by several men. He noticed a boy in his late teens with dark hair and eyes, almost as black as his. The boy immediately shot off the moment the Templars entered, eyes wide and climbing over the table in haste. Shay didn't fail to notice his escape and took chase.
With trained agility, the Templar leaped over the table and barreled after the teenager further into the warehouse. The boy skirted down a hallway and took a couple turns, even slamming a door in Shay's face. However the force broke the lock, allowing Shay to charge right through. The Templar stayed hot on the escapee's heels as he fled down a flight of stairs and barged through another door.
Shay was swallowed by darkness and a scent of soil filled his nostrils, telling him he was underground. But it didn't slow his progress as he remained only a couple paces behind the runaway. The Templar could reach out and almost snatch his coat. The boy mostly ran straight, only taking random turns a couple of times. Finally he ran right past a large barrel, but Shay was too focused on the chase to realize it was a powder keg.
That was until there was a flash of light down the corridor with a bang.
Shay managed to skid to a halt just before the tunnel before him was replaced by a wall of fire and heat. The shockwave was strong enough to send the unbalanced man backwards, slamming him onto the ground with a grunt. He covered his face with a gloved hand as the air was replaced by dust. He shut his eyes, but still hacked as some debris still made it to his lungs. The Templar had to wait for several long moments before he leaped to his feet, ignoring the vertigo and filth still in the air.
Shay hissed as he realized now instead of a wall of flame there was wall of debris made of unmovable stone and broken beams. He neared it tentatively as he realized there was an opening in the debris. Not near big enough for him to squeeze through, but he could as least look into. Shay pressed his palms to the rubble and peered through. He immediately saw the boy.
The kid was only in his late teens, probably only a couple years older than that Selah-girl at most. He had messy, dark brown hair with bangs covering his chocolate brown eyes. A fine layer of sweat covered his tanned skin, shining from the light of a nearby lantern. He wore a tan coat that cloaked around his thin frame; the bundled cloth of a hood was folded onto his back. An Assassin.
What Shay saw next almost made his heart stop. Another figure slipped from around the corner. And she was the spitting image of the boy.
Her loosened hair that almost fell to the small of her back was the exact same shade. She had the same dark chocolate brown eyes that gazed her surroundings. She was even the identical height as the boy and her face owned his high cheekbones and strong jaw. The girl also wore a tan coat, only darker by the slightest hue.
Twins.
Adam and Eve.
Shay's eyes narrowed dangerously. His targets. His targets were children. The head of the underworld were a pair of kids. And they were right in front of him, only separated by mound of rubble. The Templar's gaze turned to a glare at the pair of Assassins.
They stared back at him, both sweating and panting. They both wore the same solemn expression, a strange light dancing in their eyes. They looked at him like mouse finding a cat outside its den. Adam and Eve knew of the Assassin Hunter. And they knew they were the prey. Shay and the twins stared at each other a moment more, a silent message slipping between them.
The hunt was on.
It wasn't long before time expanded into weeks. The warm summer months died to cool autumn, completely sucking away the stifling humidity of the south. Now there was a frigid bite to the air. Some nights one could see their breath. Meanwhile the lush green of the frontier transformed into many shades of the sun and earth. The mud that once covered the ground was quickly replaced by a bed of leaves. Shay thought only Nova Scotia could look so beautiful in fall.
The Templar spent the last almost two months simply waiting. After he encountered Adam and Eve, the Assassins disappeared as soon as they appeared. Shay immediately went to Thrasher and Smith and informed to them of the twins. Both men were just as surprised—if not more so—that the infamous Assassins were simply teenagers. Smith actually denied the idea. Probably why it was taking so long to find them.
Since Shay had almost no knowledge of the land, he was completely reliant on the mercenary's spies to track down the twins. And while Smith watched the shadow market, Thrasher spent his time bribing military officials and high-class members of society. They thought the search would be more successful since they finally had a description, but Smith claimed he had more luck when didn't know what he was looking for. It was like the twins vanished off the face of the Earth. Or at least according to Thrasher.
Shay knew better. The two knew how to disappear. They were trained Assassins taught the art of stealth. They knew how to hide their tracks and stay in the shadows. And no doubt they were having their mercenaries cover for them. Shay wouldn't be surprised if they were paying the same men Smith and Thrasher were. The Hunter could've gotten much more progress if he could participate, knowing every trick of the Assassins. But instead he was forced to wait. He spent most of his time drumming his fingers and drinking from the local brewery, occasionally having to refer to his old lessons of patience Achilles had taught him.
The Templar now walked through streets of Savannah, Christopher Gist by his side and Samuel Thrasher trailing behind them. Shay was actually relieved his first mate finally decided to join him on land. Gist was the only man who understood him—save for Haytham, of course. And Christopher was knowledgeable himself, having a sensible head and knowing the frontier better than any man alive. Even if Shay still didn't know much about his origins, he trusted the frontiersman more than anyone.
"So you're telling me those kids can be anywhere," Christopher was saying.
"Unfortunately," Thrasher sighed. "The frontier's nothing but hills and thick forest. Even if you found a way around, there's plenty of hiding places stashed in there. Not to mention the damn swamps. Then there was a harsh drought over the summer, and some places haven't recovered yet and are still dry. Worst of all, I think it's official the Assassins know the land much better than we do."
"They have to be somewhere," Shay snapped, annoyed he was hearing the same news once again. Instead of actual useful information, everyone always came with the same reports over and over again. Shay swore against the next person that said such…
"We'll find them soon enough, Captain," Gist assured in his gruff voice.
"I believe I can help with that."
The Templars halted. That voice certainly didn't belong to any of them. The exchange of confused glances proved that. Shay quickly scanned his surroundings, but when he found the source, he blinked.
It was a boy, barely twelve years of age. Maybe even ten, if one judged by his height alone. The boy wore tattered clothing of trousers and a waistcoat over a thin undershirt. His hair and face were even messier. The kid leaned against his back nonchalantly against a wall, a heel keeping him in place as he inspected his fingernails.
Shay looked over to Christopher, but the frontiersman looked just as helpless as he was. The Irishman rolled his eyes. People claimed he never had a sense of humor, but he tried nonetheless.
"And what would you know, runt?" the Templar questioned.
"You're a bounty hunter, right?" the boy interrogated instead, his voice too cool for his age.
"…Something like that."
"And you're looking for Adam and Eve, correct? I can lead you in the right direction, but it will cost—"
The orphan's attempted bribery was cut off as Shay snatched him by the scruff and plucked him off the ground. The brat wheezed as he was pressed against the wall with his legs dangling two feet above the ground.
"And how would you know Adam and Eve?" Shay demanded, his voice regaining its deadly tone.
"I just know, a 'right?"
The Templar cocked an eyebrow before glancing at Gist. "Chris, how likely this brat was sent by the Assassins to trap us?"
"Very," Christopher replied, amused. "I say you should kill him."
Shay unsheathed his hidden blade in agreement.
"Hey, hey, hey!" the boy cried rapidly. His protests were off as Shay squeezed his neck and lifted his hand. "Look, look, it won't cost you anything! And I don't know anything about an Assassin!" Apparently he was finally catching on that he attempted to bribe the wrong people.
Gist nonchalantly took a step towards him. "And why should we believe you?"
"You really think the Assassins would send a child?" Thrasher spoke up.
"Yes," Shay and Christopher said in unison.
Thrasher only blinked.
"Adam and Eve caused us nothin' but trouble!" the boy cried. "All they've done is bringin' in more soldiers that ruin it for the rest of us! We got to earn a livin' somehow!"
Shay saw the boy's eyes starting to shine with fear and panic, but he did a good job hiding it in his tone. The Templar was catching on he was telling the truth, but he still kept his voice dark.
"What can you tell us?" he questioned.
"T-there's a warehouse out by the pier," the boy stammered. "I always see their group movin' back and forth from there. Maybe you'll learn somethin'."
Shay considered it for a moment. It was too good to be true. And it wasn't going too far out on a limb to assume the Assassins would send an orphan as a messenger. There was a large possibly this was all a trap. But even if it was, it would still send him to the Assassins, where if he was lucky enough—find clues to Adam and Eve. And if it was legitimate, then he would certainly gain useful information. No doubt better than Smith's drunken reports.
"Fine, brat," the Templar decided at last. "We'll have it your way."
The man set the boy back down, but before the child could readjust, Shay grabbed him by the back of his collar and picked him up again. The orphan gave a squeak of protest as the Templar manhandled him and headed towards the pier.
"I'm not paid enough for this," Shay muttered under his breath.
Thrasher and Gist only snickered behind him.
Shay dumped the boy onto the ground when they reached the docks, the kid landing on his rump with a wheeze.
"Alright, lad," the Templar demanded, "where's this warehouse of yours?"
The boy looked up and shot a glare at the tall man, but scrambled to his feet anyway. He patted the dust from his clothes before pointing towards a large wooden building on the very edge of the pier.
"Over there," he confirmed. "Don't let it fool ya. There are always smugglers tradin' all sorts of things in there."
Shay stared thoughtfully at the building. It didn't look much different from the last warehouse they raided. However the only difference was, the Templar spotted two broad men standing at the doorway. They had their arms crossed in boredom but had heavy weapons clinging to their side. A quick scan with his Vision revealed them to be red, signaling they were not ordinary guards.
"Looks promising enough," Shay muttered. He then pressed the sole of his boot to the small of the boy's back, making him stumble forward. "Now go."
The orphan shot another glare the man, but obliged and scurried away. However as the Templars' turned their backs, the brat paused to shoot a gesture in their direction before running away.
"Who do you think he was?" Thrasher asked curiously.
"Probably a messenger from a rival gang," Shay guessed. "They want to use us to get rid of their competition."
"How flattering," Christopher chuckled. He glanced at his captain. "What do you want to do? Shall we call the boys?"
"No, we handle it ourselves."
The Templar was already walking away, making the first mate shrug before pulling out his pistol. Samuel reached for his serrated knife and took up the rear. Naturally the guards immediately noticed them. Instead of charging, one put up his hand to halt them.
"Hold!" he snapped. "This is private property."
"I rather think it's not," Shay retorted darkly.
He snatched the man's wrist with both hands and twisted his arm until there was satisfying crack. The man bellowed in agony. Seeing the strangers weren't friendly, the other goon immediately pulled out his club, only to look straight into the barrel Gist's pistol. The man clucked chidingly, distracting the guard just enough for Thrasher to round him and pierce his spine. The man crumbled to the ground. The one Shay attacked was now fumbling for his own weapon, but when he looked back to the Templar, Shay plunged his hidden blade in his throat. The guard fell with a choke.
Not waiting, Shay then moved to the door and kicked it open. The wood broke in half with a loud splintering sound before the Templar charged in, already pouncing on a gang member. Shay stabbed his chest with his dagger. He stood to unsheathe his sword, only to use it to deflect an attack from another gang member. The gangster apparently was stupid or had no experience in fighting, because he continued to push against Shay with only a knife, allowing the Assassin Hunter to bring his own dagger up and spear him through the ribs.
The Templar threw the corpse to the ground and searched for the next kill. He found one when he heard a sharp cry across the room. With his sharp gaze, Shay immediately spotted Thrasher thrown against the wall, a gang member aiming a pistol at him. The Assassin Hunter aimed his own pistol at the crook's head, ending him with a spray of blood and brain matter. Samuel only nodded his thanks. Shay couldn't return the gesture as suddenly his hairs stood on end, having him turn around only to barely avoid a bayonet in his eye. Shay jerked to the side, shoving the musket away. He locked gazes with his new adversary.
It was a tall, scrawny man cloaked in a long brown coat, tattered and muddied from travels. A blanket of Native design was wrapped around his shoulders, like Johnson wore. A broad-rim hat shadowed his eyes, which were darker and sharper than even Shay's. His short hair was pitch-black, a single feather intertwined with a strand. The adversary narrowed his eyes at Shay, obviously displeased with the interloper.
However before he could attack again, Shay snatched the man's musket, using raw strength to force the butt of the gun into in his chin. The man's head lurched back with a loud grunt. As Shay anticipated, the attacker lost his balance, easily allowing the Templar to push him to the ground. He immediately tried to scramble back up, but the Assassin Hunter was already at his level, grabbing a handful of the man's hair and slamming the back of his head ahead against the hard ground. The adversary yelled and went still, but his heavy respiration told he was still alive.
"Oh, I like his hat," Gist's voice came.
Shay glanced up to see the man had picked up the adversary's hat, comparing it to his own. Thrasher came up behind the Assassin Hunter, sheathing his blade. The gangsters were dead. Shay looked back to his work.
"Keep your own," the captain muttered.
Gist just shrugged and tossed the broader hat away. Meanwhile, the adversary's eyes were fluttering open, signaling he was fighting for consciousness. Shay allowed him to regain his senses by not attacking him, but kept his firm hold on his prisoner.
"Where's your boss?" the Assassin Hunter demanded, judging the man was coherent enough.
The man's gaze was unfocused and his moves were sluggish, but a spark of defiance still appeared in his eyes. "Go to hell," he hissed.
Shay narrowed his eyes at the comment. But instead of punishing his prisoner, Shay spotted a glimmer of light under the fold of his coat. In a blink of an eye, the Templar peeled back the cloth to reveal a rusted, silver piece of metal in a particular design. The symbol of the Assassins.
"Look here, gents," Shay called casually. "We got ourselves an Assassin."
Gist and Thrasher neared with interest while the defeated Assassin glared up at his captor with dark rage. Shay leaned forward over the man, their faces only a couple of inches apart. The Assassin Hunter lowered his voice to a deadly tone.
"I ask again," he growled. "Where are Adam and Eve?"
"You will never make me talk."
Shay knew that was the truth. Assassins were trained martyrs—brainwashed to sacrifice their life for the name of the cause. Shay himself would have done such at one point of his life. An Assassin would rather die than sell out his brothers. Shay even remembered once he had interrogated a man for information of Achilles; only for the Assassin plunge his own blade into his heart. There was no way to bend a martyr. Unless…
Have a martyr believe he would die, he would do so. Force him to live…
Shay glanced over his shoulder to see a large bowl of a bonfire, the crimson embers still eating away at the last few lumbers.
"Gist, restart that fire," the Templar ordered.
The frontiersman raised his eyebrows, either in confusion or surprise, but crossed over to the dying flames. He pulled out a flint. Meanwhile, Shay looked back his prisoner to see horror building in the man's eyes, but he did his best to keep his eyes narrowed in a glare.
"I won't kill you," Shay told him. "You're too valuable for that."
They both knew it was lie. The Assassin meant nothing to the Templar, but the man had no knowledge of what extent Shay intended him. He was given a good hint when suddenly the bonfire came to life with a roar. The Assassin's eyes went wide and he started to squirm his weakened body. Thrasher came to Shay's aid as the Templars hoisted up the now flailing prisoner over to the pyre, slamming him down on top of a table. Thrasher held his legs while Gist came around to hold his torso, while Shay held his hand towards the now roaring scarlet flames. He kept it just inches from the fire, allowing just enough for the Assassin to feel the heat. The prisoner's eyes went wider and he flailed more desperately, but both his captors were strong for being scrawny men.
Shay's solemn expression was replaced by one of no emotion. He saw no joy in this. To kill and fight and cause harm against his former comrades and brothers. The same men he vowed to give his life for. The men he once called his loved ones. But it had to be done. Someone had to make amends for all the sins they had committed. Even if he was to commit sins himself…
Shay glanced at the Assassin. "Last chance. Tell me what you know."
The Assassin only glared back at him, jaws clenched tight with strained muscles, a layer of sweat already covering his skin. His Adam's apple bobbed in a gulp. Hearing no reply, Shay forced his hand into the fire.
Immediately the warehouse was filled with an ear-piercing scream. The Assassin's shut his eyes and opened his mouth wide in a deafening yell. He arched his back in pain. Shay quickly retreated the hand after only a couple moments in the fire. It was already a blistering red.
"Talk," the Templar demanded.
"Fuck all of you!"
The hand returned to its crimson sheathe, provoking another long bellow of agony. Shay waited longer to remove the prisoner's arm. There was now a shiny layer of blood. The man's face was shiny as well with sweat. Shay harshly grabbed a handful of cloth on the man's chest, leaning closer so he could look him in the eye.
"I will not kill you," he spat, empathizing each word. "End your suffering now by telling me Adam and Eve's location."
"We will do this all night if we have to!" Gist added, knowing his captain's plan. Give the martyr no hope.
"I will… not…" the man gasped, losing his composure.
A third time. The man's screams were quickly replaced by sobbing yells. His body now flailed madly as if in a seizure, but his captors held him in place. Shay kept the arm in place for almost a minute, ever so slowly retracting the limb. There was now black pits of destroyed flesh surrounded by white blisters and dead skin, blood and crimson patches filling the gaps between them. Shay now saw tears spilling from the man's eyes, more from raw pain than anything else. His body now quivering uncontrollably and his clothes were wet. He was panting heavily and his eyes remained shut as he desperately tried to regain sanity.
"T-th-the f-ffrontier," he sobbed. "Th-they went to f'ontier."
Shay released his captive.
"Thank you."
The search abandoned the cities and scoured the countryside. The Templars searched every nook and cranny, not leaving an inch of ground without a second look. But time still expanded into weeks. An untamed frontier was not easy to cross. And now Adam and Eve were playing them.
In attempt to narrow the search, the Templars had visited every tavern and household asking for the twins' description. Unlike in the cities, instead of utter silence, now everyone knew Adam and Eve. And every person had a different story. Runaway orphans. Messengers for their master's business. Travelers going to visit an uncle. Going to South Carolina for work. Heading down to Florida to visit the new colony. Visiting a town visiting some folk.
Each lead led to a completely different direction, being the opposite of the tip before. Instead of narrowing the search, it was only broadened tenfold. Even if everyone knew the tales were fake, there was no way to judge if a tip was useful or not. As for physically tracking down the twins', every once in a while the search party would find tracks or clues, only for that to disappear or lead to a dead end or double back into nothingness.
Winter would be settling very soon. Even though there was no snow here or the winters were nothing like in the north, men didn't like working in the cooler months. And the region became wetter during this season, which would make progress that much harder.
Shay paced impatiently in the small meeting room, half-listening to Gist, Thrasher, and Smith as they crowded around a table with a broad map over its surface.
"According to my contacts they're heading towards the northern frontier," Thrasher reported.
"That don't make sense!" Smith retorted. "My contacts say they're headed for St. Augustine."
"Why would they go to St. Augustine?"
"Can we just say we're all wrong and call it a day?" Gist begged.
The two men ignored him as they continued arguing over other reports, having the quartermaster glance at his captain helplessly. Shay paced a few more times, a loose fist to his chin.
"Well somebody has to know something," Thrasher insisted. "How do we know that one of these tales is true and the rest are just to throw us off?"
It was then Shay brought his hand from his chin and waved it towards the men's direction. "You're all looking at this all wrong."
All three Templars glanced at him. Daniel raised an eyebrow.
"Care to explain?" the man demanded.
"They're already leaving a trail."
"Eh?"
Shay turned to his audience, but mind still processing. "These stories have to come from somewhere. It can't be mercenaries; they're too risky. Who knows what they'll say. The locals even say to have met the twins; that's the only constant."
"What does this have to do with anything?" Smith questioned.
"You're overlooking it." The Assassin Hunter crossed over to the map and glazed over it. There were multiple scribbles and markers in attempt to keep track of their leads. Shay simply knocked all the items off the table with a single arm and looked at the fresh map. "The Assassins are personally delivering the messages. We've wasting time trying to anticipate their route. We need to look where they have been."
Smith just stared at him dumbly, still confused, while Thrasher was slowly digesting what he was being told. Gist only wore his stone-like expression as he listened intently. Shay leaned over the map, glaring at it in thought.
"Where was the last contact we heard from?" he questioned.
It was Gist who answered. He placed a finger on a spot on the map. "Here."
"The one before that?"
Christopher moved his finger only a couple inches. "Here."
Shay was already making a map in his head, ignoring as Thrasher and Smith leaned closer, curious to what the Assassin Hunter was thinking.
"What's the closest tavern from the last contact?"
"Over here."
Christopher pointed over a few inches. Now Shay's map was complete.
"They've been going in circles, that's why we haven't been able to find them," he informed. "Retracing their steps while making false trails."
"Clever little bastards…" Smith breathed, finally realizing.
"They're more than likely headed to this settlement." Shay gestured to where Gist had pointed. "We cut them off—" The Templar gestured a stretch of land. "—here."
"Aye, I'll send the men right away."
"No."
"What?"
"They are trained Assassins and are seasoned outlaws. You could send the entire King's army and you still couldn't catch them."
"Then how do you expect us to do it?"
"No different that herding cattle, really. You restrict their movements."
"How so?" Thrasher asked curiously.
Shay glanced up at him. "Didn't you say some parts were still dry?"
"Yes, but—" Thrasher cut off when suddenly his face paled, widening his eyes and eyebrows going to his hairline. He realized what was Shay intending. "Oh, God…"
The still air of the night was filling with loud whoops and laughs of the Templars. A burning torch was thrown to a bushel of weeds, immediately lighting it aflame. Another was thrown into a brush of trees, having it come ablaze. A mercenary took a long swig from an ale before violently tossing it onto the ground, a flint quickly following it. Another Templar laughed maniacally as he cantered his horse across a stretch of long grass, dragging a long, flaming torch across the ground, literally leaving a trail of fire. He turned around to toss it into a wall of trees before galloping away, giving a loud whoop of excitement.
"Burn you damn Assassins! Burn!"
Shay remained perched on a large stallion given to him, standing on a large hill overlooking the frontier. He watched impassively as the dark night began to lighten with the increasing amount of flames. Even the cool air started to warm. Soon shadows were replaced by dancing crimson walls, the columns of smoke rising into the air darker than the night itself.
Even from here Shay could hear the excited yells of Smith's mercenaries, but he quickly blocked them out. He kept his horse in place as it shuffled uncomfortably, sensing a change in the environment.
It wouldn't long now.
Adam held on to the horse's reins, body well-adjusted to the rhythmic movements of the beast's slow steps. He settled comfortably on the large, leather saddle, legs dangling on the stirrups. Eve sat behind him, arms loosely wrapped around his torso and head leaning on his back. Her slender shoulders rose and fell as she snoozed softly in sleep. Adam didn't blame her for being tired.
They had been on the move for days and days now, not stopping for a single moment. They did not make any short trips, going to one corner of the frontier to the next and going back again. Sometimes they had to take detours in order to avoid redcoat patrols or the Templar mercenaries, making their journey even longer. But they couldn't stop no matter what. Not with the Templars still after them.
Actually the young Assassin held little concern. They had done this thousands of times. Whether it was because of redcoats, Templars, or a rival gang threatening them. They would seek shelter in the frontier and use their knowledge of the land until their pursuer tired. It always worked. But this chase was taking longer than usual. The Templars would not give up. It was because the Assassin Hunter was leading them.
Adam had been told about him. A traitor, they said. He was once Achilles's favored student, but abandoned the creed and joined the Templar Order. Now they called him the Assassin Hunter, dedicated to kill every last Assassin in America. Adam was told he had succeeded in the north, leaving the twins' cell the only surviving branch. Now the Assassin Hunter was coming for them. He would not tire until he succeeded.
Adam had even gotten word that another cell was raided a while ago, which started the Templar manhunt across the wilderness. It was Caleb Garret's group. He was to finish organizing the smugglers before coming to join the twins' in the frontier. Adam could only hope he was okay.
Adam would not let the Assassin Hunter get them. He made a promise to protect his "little" sister. He had even extended that promise to every Assassin that followed him. He and his sister were trained by the last Mentor, becoming his favorites. When he died, the twins took up his position together. Many of the other Assassins disapproved, believing they were too young and inexperienced. However the twins slowly won their recognition, banishing any who still opposed them to the Caribbean.
Suddenly Adam's thoughts were broken when the horse gave a nervous whinny and shook its head. Adam glanced over.
"What's wrong, boy?" he asked.
The stallion stomped on the ground with snort through his nostrils and his lips fluttered. Now the Assassin's instincts were sharpening as his hairs slowly stood on end. He glanced around his surroundings, eyes narrowed. He was now realizing the night was silent. There was always noise in these woods. From the song of insects to the hoot of a hunting owl. Why was it quiet?
An instinct told him to look over his shoulder. His stomach only churned with dread.
A reddish-orange hue lined the horizon of the hill, lightening the dark shadows of the night. It almost looked like a scene of a sunrise, but Adam knew that wasn't right. The sun wouldn't rise for several more hours. The boy narrowed his eyes more, suspiciously. Then the Assassin felt the heat. He hissed at the searing wave and tightened his grip on the reins at the horse shifted with another whinny. When the horse's wail died, Adam registered the loud crackling and growing roar.
"Oh, God," he gasped. He finally felt Eve shifting behind him, murmuring sleepily as she slowly woke from the commotion. Adam snapped his gaze to her. "We got to go."
Immediately Eve's eyes snapped open and a look of panic appeared, like she knew already what was going on. With a loud whistle, Adam kicked the horse into a gallop just as the flames of the wildfire climbed over the hill.
"It's done," Smith reported to Shay. "We'll smoke the Assassins out of hiding."
"I'm going after them," Shay only replied.
Daniel's eyebrows shot to his hairline. "Are you mad? You can't go in there! You'll be burned alive!"
He snatched the horse's bridle to order to keep him from going anywhere. Shay ignored him as he pulled his gas mask over his mouth, wearing it like a bandanna. The stallion started shifting and snorting, sensing anxiety from his surroundings. With a kick to the sides, the animal took off with enough force to send Smith away, having the mercenary watch the Templar leave helplessly.
"Shay!"
Shay galloped full speed into the valley of the frontier, leaning close to the stallion's neck and hands gripping its untrimmed mane. His pitch-black coat blended perfectly with the night and the dark fur of his horse had with the same effect, giving the man the appearance of a phantom. He only looked more menacing as the light of the flames washed over him and formed dark shadows at the same time. The burning heat quickly invaded his thick cloak, already forming a layer of sweat. Shay didn't care.
However one thing he didn't think of was the horse's behavior. He was able to force the animal ten feet to the flames, the gigantic walls towering over them, when the beast lost his nerve. With a loud whinny of pure fear, the stallion suddenly halted and reared. Shay attempted to cling on, but gravity won with his heavy weight, forcing him to crash onto the ground. The man gave a loud curse in Irish as the beast whirled around and galloped away.
Shay scrambled to his feet, the flames already starting to surround him. Even with his bandanna to filter the air, he still found it harder to breath with the thick smoke. He didn't pay attention to it as he scanned for a way to progress. He found the ramp of a fallen tree leading to the treetops, embers eating away at the bark but it was suitable. But first…
The Templar awakened his Sense. Immediately his world was replaced by shadows, the fire acting as the only light. He could feel his surroundings, pressing against him. But then he felt his instincts flare and a pull snatched him, tugging him further into the fire. Every fiber in his body began to point, like there was a compass within him. A compass that pointed to where he needed to go.
The Assassin Hunter jumped into the fire.
Adam and Eve lost their horse as well. Adam was galloping at full speed through the burning, smoke-filled forest when suddenly the beast tripped over a fallen branch. The stallion let out a scream as it crashed onto the ground, throwing the twins off with startled yells. Adam landed harshly on his left shoulder while Eve rolled across the ground. After coughing for several moments and reorientation occurred, both twins scrambled to their feet. However Adam only had to glance at the horse to find its legs bent in unnatural angles and whinnying painfully. The teenager closed his eyes when he pulled the trigger.
He took his sister's hand. "Come on."
The pair of Assassins sprinted through the blaze at a dizzying speed, only made possible by their training. They leapt and danced through the flames, occasionally climbing a tree when an obstacle appeared. But the fire was never-ending. No matter what direction they took or how fast they ran, the crimson walls always followed them.
Finally they slowed into a clearing, panting desperately. However the air was more smoke than oxygen, having their breaths turn into coughs. Both of them scanned their surroundings, only to find burning flames all around them, completely encasing them. There was no way out.
Eve turned to her brother. "Now what do we do?!" she yelled over the roar of the flames.
Adam looked over his surroundings again, only to suddenly see a flicker of shadow. He blinked, only to see a dark form fall from the burning treetops and slam onto the ground in a crouch. Adam and Eve knew instantly who it was.
Shay Cormac. Their hunter.
Shay slowly rose from his position, unsheathing his sword and dagger as the flames burned behind him. His still wore his gas mask, only having his cold, shadowed dark eyes show as he glowered at them. Adam and Eve unsheathed their custom-made swords as well, pointing them towards the Templar. Their face hardened to an expression as sullen as Shay's.
They began to circle around each other, like vicious dogs analyzing the other before a fight. Each movement was slow and calculated. No one minded the smoke, heat, and flames roaring around them anymore. Shay lunged.
He appeared between the twins in a blink of an eye, jutting his weapons towards each of them. Adam parried his sword and skipped away. Meanwhile, Eve pushed the dagger away and charged towards him, her sword aimed towards his chest. Shay turned towards her, swinging his own sword at her. With both his sword and dagger, he twisted his blades over hers, trapping it in place. He quickly gave her a savage kick to the ribs, sending her away with a cry.
Shay couldn't pursue her though as he immediately swung his sword over his shoulder to block a strike from Adam. He twisted around to face the teenager. He struck out with his dagger, but Adam shifted away from him. Shay ended up kicking him as well, this time in the stomach. Adam gave a strangled cry, but was able to stay on his feet and clutched his abdomen. He glared at the Templar before he charged.
Shay swung his sword as if to behead the teenager, but the Assassin ducked into a roll and went past him. However he landed in a crouch, arching his back as Eve approached him. She jumped onto his shoulder, using him as a stool to jump above their enemy. Shay raised his blades to meet her strike, using them as a shield. There was a sharp sound of grating steel as Eve landed back on the ground. Suddenly Adam appeared by her side, having them both strike at Shay. The Templar deflected the attacks, but he stumbled backwards to gain room.
The Assassins fought as one as they sent one strike after another at the Assassin Hunter. None of their attacks broke his defenses but ever so slowly pushed him towards the flames. It was when the searing heat burned his back Shay finally cringed under his mask. But like hell he would be bested by brats.
Shay thrust his sword towards Eve, but she lithely dodged to the side. Locking arms with her brother, she rolled over his back and to the other side of him. The twins charged again, but now Shay was ready for them.
With his dagger, he twisted Eve's blade away while he struck his sword at Adam. Like he anticipated, the boy expertly parried it, but before he could react, Shay planted another kick to his torso. The teenager flew backwards. The Templar then turned to Eve, stabbing his sword towards her. Eve once again ducked away, but wasn't fast enough to avoid the blade slicing into her side. She let out a high-pitched scream and fell into a crouch, clutching her wound. Shay turned when he heard a roar of rage to see Adam charging towards him. Shay lifted his weapons to attack, but he never got the chance.
Glancing up with a sweaty brow, Eve suddenly struck out her sword, plunging it through Shay's leg. The man let out a bellow of agony. Adam took his chance as he noticed the Templar was buckling over, but Shay noticed his approach. As he fell, the Hunter stabbed his dagger into Adam's shoulder, rewarded by a scream and a spray of blood. Shay crumbled to all fours, cursing that he lost his balance. It didn't matter, though.
He heard Eve yell something—probably Adam's real name—as she suddenly recovered and raced to her brother's side. She caught him before he could fall. He clutched his shoulder painfully, blood pouring through his fingers and down his robes. Eve's face was full of concern and panic while Adam's was twisted with pain.
"We need to get out of here!" Eve yelled.
"No!" Adam retorted. Shay looked up as the teenager glared at him. "We need to finish this!"
Shay's hold on his sword tightened. He still had plenty of fight left in him. But Eve shook her head.
"We live to fight another day!" she cried. "We can't do this now!"
Adam glared back at Shay. The Templar glared back up at him, gaze still menacing and frigid. The Assassin and Templar stared at each other for a moment, daring the other.
"We will let you live if you promise to leave us alone," Adam told him, voice raised.
Shay's narrowed his eyes. "No."
Adam twitched his eyes.
"I will kill you," Shay vowed. "I promise you."
The two glared at each other again. Eve interrupted the contest when she tugged at her brother's arm.
"Adam, let's just go," she begged.
Their Assassin robes were slowly becoming redder than the flames around them. They would die if they stayed. Adam realized this. He slowly stepped away, his glare now cold.
"We promise you the same," he told Shay in a stern tone.
Adam and Eve disappeared in the flames.
"You have crossed the line into completely useless," Smith chided.
He was only rewarded when Shay gave him a savage punch to the face for the insult. Daniel fell to the floor, clutching his jaw. Gist closed the distance and placed a tentative hand on Shay's arm.
"Calm down, Captain," the quartermaster said. "No reason being upset now."
Shay shrugged off his touch. "I beg to differ…" he snarled.
He turned around, running his hands through his hair in agitation. He had them! He had Adam and Eve! He could've killed them! And just because he got distracted by an inconvenience they had escaped. Now the Templars were back at square one. God knows where they ran off to…
"It's possible they died in the flames," Thrasher suggested, but it was more for an attempt to settle the tension in the room.
"They didn't," Shay retorted harshly.
After the twins ran off, Shay collected himself and returned to the treetops. He ignored the pain in his leg, becoming immune to it as he escaped the flames. Even though he able to make it back the Templars, he was still limping and wheezing painfully. His associates had even pointed out several burns across his skin. How or when he got them, Shay had no idea. He ended up spending the next several days recovering, much to his fury. He had no time to waste. The Assassin Hunter tried to tell the others this, but Christopher would not hear it and prevented him doing anything.
Shay growled as he felt a headache coming on and his leg was throbbing. The doctor had stitched it up and given him disinfectant alcohol, but there was little what the man could do. Shay once again didn't care, having gotten immune tolerable pain a long time ago. There was always something better to do than whine. His limp was already disappearing as he forced it not to let hinder him. Most of the time.
"I'm getting a drink," the man growled.
He stormed out of the room. Thankfully the Templars were staying at a large tavern, allowing Shay to quickly find the bar making up the lobby. He just as quickly ordered a tankard full of his favorite rum. Once it was delivered to him, the man raised it to take a long swig. His method of escape was interrupted when a tanned hand suddenly snatched the tankard. Shay snarled and glared at Gist.
His first mate's expression was stern as he calmly pulled the drink out of the man's hand. "Drinking will do nothing for you, Captain," he informed matter-of-factly.
"Yes it will," Shay snarled. "Give it back, Chris."
Gist ignored him as he placed the drink just out of Shay's reach. The man was far older that his captain—nearly thirty years. Not only that, he knew Shay's habits better than anyone. Probably more than his mother, if she were alive. He could always talk sense back into his captain and speak freely with him without eventually being stabbed. Haytham was the only other man to do so.
Christopher leaned on countertop with Shay. He chose a tone that wasn't scolding but wasn't pleased as he said, "I told you to calm down."
"I lost my contracts and my leg feels like shit," Shay snapped back. "I apologize for not being in the merriest of moods."
"You didn't lose them; you lost sight of them for now."
Shay rolled his eyes. "You're a piece of work, Gist…"
"There are those who could say the same for you."
Shay only sighed. "It cannot be this hard to look for twins."
"Twins, you say?"
Shay thought he was hallucinating and half-expected to see the boy again, but when he looked up he only saw the bartender staring at them curiously. Still in a sour mood, the Templar was tempted to tell the man to fuck off and it was none of his business, but Christopher beat him to it.
"Yes, a boy and a girl," the frontiersman informed in a friendly tone. "They're my niece and nephew, you see, but I'm afraid they gotten confused on how to find me."
Shay rolled his eyes. Not this again. He suddenly caught sight of his stolen tankard in the corner of his eye, taunting him. Believing Christopher was distracted, he leaned a little to snatch it. The Irishman growled when Gist instead slapped his arm, not breaking eye contact with the bartender. However when the local spoke next, Shay's greed was replaced by interest.
"Dark hair? Young aged?" the bartender quizzed.
Gist raised an eyebrow. "You know them?"
"Aye. They passed through a couple days ago."
Suddenly Shay's interest grew. They were here? He tried to not get too excited. Now what would be the story?
"I was kind of worried for them, though, honestly," the bartender confessed. "They looked ill when they came in. All they asked for was a few bites to eat and some liquor. They didn't even drink half of it."
"Oh? Did they tell you their intentions?"
The bartender hesitated in thought. "Well, they actually come here once every few months. They don't talk much, unlike most of my customers. That's why they stood out to me, so much." Shay fought the urge to roll his eyes, annoyed the man was beating around the bush. But he listened anyway. This was certainly going a different direction than most of their tips. "But I was able to catch bits of their conversation. I hear them talk about visiting a manor when they come here."
Shay's eyebrows rose. That was certainly new. Chris didn't miss a beat.
"Do you happen to know where that is?"
"They headed to the southeast, I believe. But nothing there but plantations. However, from this direction, they're likely going to William Selby's manor."
Shay glanced at Christopher as suddenly the quartermaster's eyes went wide. He was frozen for a moment, but forced his muscles to relax and went back to his matter-of-factly voice. He patted the countertop.
"That's it, then," Gist mused. "They must have headed to their father's home." He was serious. He glanced at the bartender. "Thank you, sir. You have my everlasting gratitude."
The bartender only humbly nodded. "Anything I can do. Best of luck to ya."
Shay and Gist were already leaving, practically flying back upstairs to their awaiting associates. They burst through the door, startling Smith and Thrasher. Gist waved his arms.
"They're not outlaws at all!" Christopher exclaimed. "Damn brats aren't even street rats!"
"What are you talking about?" Shay demanded.
"Of course they're outlaws," Thrasher added. "They're the head of almost every smuggler ring in Georgia."
"Yes, I mean, they're outlaws, but not like that way," Christopher explained.
"What?" Smith questioned.
Chris instead turned to Shay. "When I heard about them, I figured they were raised on the streets. Born criminals."
"They have to be," Shay argued.
"But they're not."
Shay glared at his friend, pressuring him to talk.
"William Selby," Gist said. "He's the richest man in all of Georgia. Controls one of the largest trading companies in the colonies and has a plantation that could make a colony of its own."
Thrasher was widening his eyes. "You don't think…"
"The twins are Master's Selby's children. They're practically nobles!"
Smith raised his eyebrows. "That's why we never been able to find them. We were expecting to find them in the ghettos; not a castle."
"Are you certain you have this right, Chris?" Shay questioned.
"I'm positive."
"Mr. Smith."
Daniel glanced at the other Templar.
"Get the men. Meanwhile I'll have my drink."
This time it was Eve who steered the horse, her brother leaning heavily on her back. They had stopped the bleeding and drowsed the wound with alcohol and herbs, but Adam had still lost a lot of blood. Raw weakness still made it hard for him to even keep his eyes open. But they were home.
Eve trotted their new mare past the cotton fields of their plantation. The still-white canvas was broken by the rhythmic movement and the dark skin of slaves. They paid no attention to the teenagers as the focused solely on their work, not even sparring the twins a glance. The children likewise treated them as they did not exist. Not even when they traveled further onto the grounds to find slaves all ages and health working various chores, from meaningless ones to trusted tasks. There were probably hundreds in total. At least that's what Father boasted. He had a large plantation and a business that needed work.
Their trip through the grounds ended at a gigantic white-washed manor. Its spotless windows gleamed in the sunlight and the paint seemed to glow. Strong, broad pillars held the broad building in place, a shadowed porch circumnavigating the entire building. Eve halted the horse in front of it. She slid off the mare first and went to assist her brother, but Adam was taking her spot on the saddle and gripped the reins.
"You head inside," he ordered. "I'll take her to the stables."
Eve nodded and the twins went their separate ways. Eve stepped inside the manor to find it pleasantly cool. The autumn weeks had been miserable for the twins. The biting temperatures and wet conditions had almost pushed them to the brink of sickness. Many nights when any warmth was sapped from the air, the twins had to desperately press against each other for comfort. Eve was more relieved to finally return to the safety of home.
The twins knew it was dangerous to come here with the Templars still after them, but they had little choice. They needed a place to recover and regroup their strategies. They couldn't keep running across the frontier—that had been proven it was no longer an option. And besides, no one had ever found them here, not even men from their own Brotherhood. No one expected to find them here. It was helped that they knew the Assassin Hunter was injured, which would cause some delay in the Templar search. A delay they needed to take advantage of.
A plain woman greeted Eve near the foyer.
"Welcome home, dearie," she greeted. "How was your visit to the city?"
"Well, Mother," Eve assured her in an obedient tone.
The teenager walked up in the stairs in her bland gray dress, hair tied in a neat bun. She had discarded her blood-stained Assassin robes in the woods long ago. She kept the door to her room open, disliking being confined and wanting to hear the going-ons in the house. The constant clanking and shuffling of working slaves never felt so assuring to her. The girl calmly pulled her hair from its confines and replaced her dress with a satin nightgown. The silky touch was glorious and Eve almost fell asleep from just that.
Instead, she plucked one of her favorite volumes from the shelves. The Assassin crossed over to the bed and sat on her legs on top of the expensive sheets. She opened the book and began to read, feeling more relaxed and content than she had in weeks. Yes, they would be safe here. They could worry about a new plan a little later.
Still half-listening to the sounds outside her room, Eve was able to pick up the harsh knock coming from the front door. She blinked. Since when was there a visitor? The girl shrugged it off. Possibly a slave or one of Father's men. However as the Assassin attempted to continue her read, her skin slowly started to tingle. She listened as she heard her mother open the front door.
"May I help you?"
"Mistress Selby?" an eerie, formal tone replied.
"Yes?"
The woman's curious tone was replaced by a scream. Eve slammed her book shut and flew from the room. She raced to the upstairs railing, glancing down to glimpse the foyer. Her eyes immediately locked with Shay Cormac's.
Eve screamed.
Shay flew up the stairs the same moment Eve disappeared from the railing. He was on the second story in seconds and turned to the direction Eve ran to just as the teenager slammed her door closed. Shay charged down the corridor full speed and rammed into the door, shattering the lock and throwing it open with a deafening slam. He wasn't surprised to find Eve already scrambling out the window.
The Assassin Hunter jumped to the other side of the room. The Assassin cried as he painfully grasped her leg and yanked her back inside. The teenager fell on the floor with a whine of protest. Completely unarmed, Eve tried to scramble to her feet and escape her attacker, only for Shay to harshly grab her throat. She wheezed as he slammed her against the wall, pain exploding from the back of her head.
The girl clawed uselessly at his wrist, choking as he pressed harder against her skin. The Assassin desperately tried to kick him, but he had pushed his body close to her, making her flails have little effect. Finally Eve let out a shrill, high-pitched scream of panic and fear.
"Joshua! Joshua!"
Shay only smirked. "Calling for 'big' brother, eh?" he mocked. "Let's see if he comes."
Joshua snapped his eyes open, ripped from his catnap in the stables. Immediately the shouts of men reached his ears and his instincts were on end. He leaped to his feet, trying to decipher the situation. No. No, it was impossible. The Templars couldn't have found them. Not so soon. No.
Then his sharp hearing registered his sister's panicked screams.
"Alice!"
With reckless abandon, the Assassin tore from his hiding place and leaped into a mad sprint towards the manor. However the second he stepped through the threshold of the stables, Christopher Gist brutally slammed the butt of his musket into the boy's head. Joshua crumbled with a strangled cry.
Adam and Eve—Joshua and Alice—were thrown onto their knees on the dirt-laced ground, arms cruelly bound behind their backs. A ring of Templars surrounded them, all of them heavily armed and braced to snatch their weapons at any moment. Daniel Smith already had his musket pointed at them, while Samuel Thrasher and Gist watched with their arms folded. Shay Cormac paced in front of the Assassins, making a show of cleaning and loading his flintlock.
"So," he began, "which one of you wants to die first?"
The twins only quivered and stared at the ground, shrinking from the Templars that surrounded them. Shay glanced at them when he didn't receive a reply.
"No?" His eyes fell upon the girl. He raised his flintlock. "How about you?"
Alice flinched but said nothing. Instead Joshua jerked forward.
"Wait!" he cried. Shay hesitated from pulling the trigger as the boy said solemnly, "Kill me."
"Joshua, no!" Alice cried.
Shay complied to the boy's request by raising the barrel into the air, away from his sister but not pointing at him yet. "And why should I kill you first?" the Assassin Hunter questioned darkly.
"Because I am the Mentor of the Assassins," Joshua told him. "And almost every smuggler ring in the colony answers to me. My sister is only my assistant."
"No, that's not true!" Alice wailed.
"Alice, shut up!"
Alice flinched from her brother's harsh yell. Shay only watched impassively.
"Even if half that bullshit is true," the Templar said, "you endangered your sister by dragging her along. Even making her a part of your little 'Adam and Eve.'"
Joshua trembled as he glared up at his captor. "That's why I should die."
Shay pointed his gun at him.
"No! Adam and Eve was my idea," Alice insisted. "And I was the one to organize everything."
"I said shut up!" Joshua roared.
"So from my understanding," Shay drawled, "you are both responsible for the Assassins in these parts. So you both will die. It doesn't matter what order." The Templar cocked his weapon. "I ask again: who wants to die first?"
Alice stifled a sob and Joshua fought to control a violent shudder. They truly didn't want to die. But they knew they were going to. They could see Death's door. And what they saw terrified them. Joshua glared back at Shay.
"Please kill me," he begged. "I don't want to see my sister die because of me."
"Joshua…" Alice sobbed with a cracked voice.
Thrasher looked away and Gist lowered his head, his broad hat hiding his eyes. Even Smith blinked before readjusting his hold on his musket. Only Shay didn't flinch, already taking a step forward with no emotion. He aimed his flintlock straight at Joshua's heart. Alice shut her eyes and turned away, trying to control her crying. Joshua glanced up from the barrel of the gun to lock eyes with his executioner. Shay didn't blink. Sighing through his nose, Adam forced his rigid muscles to relax and closed his eyes.
Suddenly a dark, cold hold of sadism took over the Assassin Hunter.
Without warning, he angled his weapon towards Eve and fired.
There was a sound of thunder before the Assassin crumbled to the ground, unmoving. Blood and brain matter poured through Eve's shattered skull.
The Templars simply froze and stared at the gruesome sight in shock, only for it to be replaced silent horror. Everyone present knew Shay was cold-hearted and brutal, birthed by personally slaughtering every person he ever loved. But not even they knew of this heartlessness.
Adam snapped his eyes open. "YOU BASTARD!"
With a roar, the Assassin tried to jump to his feet in a lunge towards Shay. A pair of Templars actually had to leap over and gain a hold on him. Still screaming, Joshua continued to flail, wiggling in their grip as he glared at the Assassin Hunter with all the hatred and fury in the world.
"Burn in hell!" he screamed in a harsh voice, only to scream louder. "Is it worth it?! You betrayed everyone you knew! And for what? To murder your brothers and sisters?! To slaughter innocents?!" Shay narrowed his eyes. Adam shut his due to his persistent screaming. "You were never one of us! Never!"
Suddenly he was cut off as Shay wrapped both hands around his neck in a savage hold. Joshua choked and his body went still. The Templars that restrained him quickly pulled away.
"Someone must make amends!" Shay roared. His menacing, piercing eyes were filled with dark fury. "So you see me a traitor, is that it? When it was you Assassins betrayed me."
Suddenly a scene of fire flashed across Shay's eyes and dying screams echoed in his ears. Countless bodies soaked in blood flickered across his vision—of both innocents and his Assassin brothers. It was only followed by an image of Achilles lunging at him when Shay demanded to leave the Brotherhood. Only when he had escaped his Mentor's wrath, he found himself ambushed by bladed shadows. They had tried to kill him. His own brothers had tried to kill him. They had nearly succeeded. The death of every Assassin he ever killed came crashing across his sanity in an unforgiving tidal wave. Shay's grip tightened.
"I was deceived into ending innocent lives. I will not let it happen again."
Adam only chocked, his face becoming dangerously pale and lips discoloring. Shay's voice into a dark, frigid tone.
"History may brand me traitor, rebel, or renegade. But in the end, it doesn't matter how history remembers me. What matters, is that I followed my own creed. And I swear… I will not fail."
Shay Cormac, the Assassin Hunter, unsheathed his hidden blade.
So… there you have it! This is actually the darkest piece of work I've written and I was surprised I went through with it. I mostly wrote this to also highlight Shay's descension into darkness and just how the toll of assassinating his former loved ones changed him. So, yes, Shay did have to seem sadistic at times, even if he's anything but. And I did have to change his personality around somewhat to make it interesting. It would be too boring if I kept him emotionless the entire time.
Even though, I really enjoyed writing this and I was really proud how it came out. I hope it was enjoyable for all of you, as well. Now it's time to play some Rogue!