"I… I should go," is what I said, but I wanted the exact opposite.

Ziio seemed to pick up on that, and did not give me a choice in the matter regardless.

Awaking in a cave with a beautiful Native woman resting on my bare chest was not exactly something I expected to happen when I came to the Colonies.

But I was glad it did.

To say I had never met a woman like her was an understatement. She rocked my views of the world to the core.

I wanted this moment to last forever; the rhythmic beating of her heart and the feeling of her breath on my chest. But the rational side of me knew it could not.

I banished these thoughts by opening my eyes.

Ziio was awake, gaze fixed on my face.

She smiled. "You look cute when you sleep; much less serious,"

I laughed; I'd never heard that before.

Over the next few days she told me of her tribe and taught me how to pronounce her name properly, though I still preferred Ziio, and I told her of the Order- glossing over the finer details, of course. I'm not sure if I was trying to convert her or not, either way she did not seem a big fan of our mission.

Regardless, there also seemed to be this mutual, unspoken understanding that this- we- could not work. I could tell she did not want to leave her people, and there was no way I could abandon the Order. I don't think the life of a Colonial woman would suit her anyway; she would be treated as an outcast and wouldn't have near as much freedom as she needed. And there was a danger in my line of work; I did not want any harm to come to her.

One night, I explained why I came to Boston.

"…So I was instructed to us the amulet I was given to find the Precursor Site, by any means necessary."

"By any means?" She sat up from her place against my shoulder. "So… you used me?" Her eyes were full of what could only be the hurt of betrayal, "to find this Precursor Site?"

"No! I mean maybe at first but-" I panicked; how could I be so stupid? I usually had such a way with words- was se bringing out the honesty in me?

She stood and turned from me. "Goodbye, Haytham."

I watched her back disappear into the trees. The fire in front of me would never be enough to warm the chill that sank down into my bones.

I decided that it could not end like this. Without another thought I ran after her.

"Wait!" I cried, but she kept walking. "Ziio, please," I caught up to her and stopped to block her way.

She said nothing, but stared straight into my eyes, glare filled with anger.

It was hard to look her in the eye with so much rage directed to me, but I held my ground.

"My intentions may not have been so noble at first, but you have changed me. I realize now what I did was for the wrong reasons; but I am so very glad I met you." I was nearly begging. "Please believe me." I wanted to stroke her cheek, but my hand just hovered by her face, which softened after a few moments. "I am sorry."

She tilted her head into my touch; I stroked her cheek gently with my thumb. After a few moments she leaned forward and we kissed.

"Support his head," Ziio instructed as she handed me the child.

Face ten Redcoats with a broken arm? No problem. Hold my infant son? Terrifying. He looked so small and fragile, and though I hated to say it, he was adorable.

He tugged at a button on my shirt and I grinned dumbly.

Ziio chuckled, head resting on my shoulder.

After a few minutes my fears were realized; he child began to cry.

"Ziio, what do I do?"

She began to hum what I could only assume to be a lullaby of her people. It sounded beautiful and after a few moments the boy stopped crying to yawn.

"Haytham!"

My eyes snapped open at the noise and my bedroom in the Green Dragon materialized around me. I was breathing heavily and could feel a cold sweat drenching my body.

Charles stood in the doorway, looking very concerned.

"Leave," I all but growled.

Charles seemed reluctant but complied; closing the door behind him quietly.

That never happened.

I never chased after Ziio; at the time my stubbornness would not allow it. Is that what would have happened if I swallowed my pride and realized my love?

Love. I don't know if that's what I would have called it at the time, but the ache in my heart said otherwise.

I was torn. There was a distinct possibility of a child, but what should I do? Ziio would surely hate me, how could I face her? And then I would potentially be putting her and this hypothetical child in danger.

I must forget. They would be better off without me.

Who was I kidding? I could never forget. I knew the memory of Ziio and the thought of this child would haunt me forever.

Then I simply must never act upon it.

The irony of the dream occurred to me. I was a bringer of death, not life.