I did make some changes to better accommodate what I have in mind. So please read and...

Enjoy~

Keys:

Thoughts

"Direct Speech in English"

"Direct speech in other languages besides English"

~XoXoX~

Chapter 1

The afternoon was cool and clear in the year 1776. A thick blanket of snow still lay fresh and untouched by the Frontier's elements. There was not a cloud in sight but still, the sun could not provide the necessary heat to the creatures under its watchful eye.

Trudging up the high icy slopes, a native man bearing light, tan robes, turned his hood covered head to navigate the terrain. He rubbed his hands together for warmth when the strangely curved A-like symbol on his forearm caught a glint in the winter sun.

It was just past midday but time travels differently in high winter. The native was returning from Valley Forge, where he had just delivered the latest news of the revolution's resistance to George Washington. The new Commander-in-Chief was not too convincing in his words when the native's home lands were mentioned in his response. A feeling of unease toyed in his gut when he thought about the future the patriots have planned for his people. He pushed such thoughts to the back of his mind when the smell of burning oak reached his nose.

The plane levelled out, making the man make his way through hip-deep snow. This is one of the toughest winters the Frontier had to endure since he left his village searching for the symbol. The symbol that was shown to him by the mysterious spirit of the crystal orb. The symbol he found and now bears with pride. The symbol, of the Assassins.

The trees bore their bare attire as the wind picked up suddenly. Its icy fingers creeping into any crack and crevice it can find. The land was unusually empty with elk and deer, even for this time of the year. Little to no birds sang around these parts of the forest, which meant very little warning time if any danger should arise. Crows still pecked carcasses clean from the kills of a nearby wolf pack but they are of no help when otherwise occupied. It's only thanks to the expert scouts of his village that kept it safe all this time in his absence. He learned a little about what to look and listen for from his mother before she died at the hands of Charles Lee. He still hated the man for what he has done and would stop at nothing to see the man dead. As for the rest of his skills, with the help and wisdom from the old man on the Homestead, Achilles Davenport, it was honed like the sharpest point of his hidden blades.

The snow finally became thinner as he finally reached the hidden path that led down to his village. Laid out in front of him was a trail of fresh tracks leading away from the furthest part of the valley. Kneeling beside it, he recognized the tracks instantly.

Cougar.

He looked at the village through the trees and contemplated whether he should go on ahead to the village or follow the tracks. A strange sensation was pulling him towards the impending hunt. And that was it. He set off east after the tracks, treading carefully.

Alert of his surroundings, he shifted his weight silently as he made his way through the snow. Keeping an eye out for that spot of golden brown fur.

The tracks got more elaborate every few feet or so. More spaced out. The large cat was definitely hastily on the move. It seems the native is not the only one hunting...

The sun was lowering quite quickly and dark gray clouds were gathering and the search for brown fur was still nowhere in sight. The tracks stretched on and on but the hunter was growing tired of his pursuit.

Suddenly, the tracks bunched up in front of him. Snow trampled into the yellowed grass beneath revealed a splash of red. Puzzled by the metallic scent it held, the native looked around to see if other tracks lead to this point. A small trail was spotted towards the south. They were longer in length but still small. It was human! His heart beat faster at the thought of it being a child venturing this far into the frontier. Remembering his own misadventures, he almost ended up as bear food a couple of times...

His hasted footsteps could not be fast enough as his suspicions only grew with each. Another bright red spatter continued on the other side of a nearly frozen river. It made the man more anxious to whom it might be. A low, feral snarl made him snap his head to the right and almost skidding to a stop. Appearing slowly from between the trees, the cat stood out dangerously against the white snow. With every muscle tensed up, adrenaline coursing through his veins, his ears rang and without thinking, he ejected one of his hidden blades readying himself for the imminent attack.

With certainty, the cat was hungry. Very hungry. Its eyes wilder than any other predator he has encountered before. The stalking cat narrowed its focus on the new comer as it closed the gap between them slowly. The native stepped closer and noticed red blotches on the stalker's front paws. A limp on its right side was subtle yet distinct. Dripping blood plopped sickeningly onto the untouched snow as it stalked ever closer.

The air was looming with suspense, yet unsure of who's prey, and who's predator. The cat gave a low growl as its front paw dragged red streaks behind itself. Glimpses of a red stained flank were seen with each limp. The native focused on it to find the source

Sensing his distraction, sudden speed, burst from the cougar as its claws dug into the thin snow propelling it forward. The cat leaped for its prey's jugular as the native skilfully sidestepped again. Weaving his right arm around its neck, he caught the cat by the scruff, plunging his dagger deep into the cat's neck. The valley echoed with a single growl of agony before it grew silent with the howl of the icy wind.

The native took in gasps of breaths to calm himself and dared to lean in to assess the blood on its flank. It still poured from a very thin line that was clean and precise which made him questions as to how the cat came across such a wound. Only one explanation popped in mind.

Redcoats...

Only a selected few a British soldiers wield a sword capable of such a cut but they will never come this far into Kanién'keh. Unfortunately... He has been wrong before.

He decided against it to take it as his prize. He stood to walk back to his village when slow crunching noises made it to his ears. He turned on his heel, ready with his right hand hovering over his flintlock pistol on his left hip. A young, pale man became visible from behind a spruce tree, sword clutched in his right. The assassin could not help but stare, for he has never seen anyone quite like him...

The young man leaned heavily against the tree as his breathing was fast and shallow. He had loose black clothing on that shone like silk. The black attire was unfamiliar to the native, even the splintered sheath that now lay a few meters away from where they were standing. His hair was lengthy, yet spiky, hanging into his eyes and the colour of the snow that surrounded him. He looked up to the native and eyes, the colour of the rare turquoise stones, looked right through him. The native straightened, even with the white haired stranger's sword still poised, ready for a fight. The sword was long, almost as long as the stranger was tall. What caught the native's attention was the golden, four-pointed star for a guard. It was strangely out of place, just like the stranger himself.

"Ari- Th-thank you." The stranger coughed and shook his head clear as he walked forward, leaving a dark red trail behind himself.

"The cat was after you?" The native asked curiously but still cautious at the closing proximity.

He nodded, "Hai. It came out of nowhere too fast." He looked straight into the man's eyes that just saved him, "What is your name?" The stranger started swaying back and forth on his feet.

"Connor. What is yours?" The native stepped closer as the stranger's swaying became more unstable.

"T-Toshiro…" The white haired man exhaled as his eyelids drooped and his legs gave in from exhaustion.

Connor quickly stepped in and caught him as the stranger's head fell onto his shoulder. "Toshiro?" Connor tried shaking him but he did not respond.

Toshiro's sword fell from his limp grip as a strong metallic scent hit Connor full force when the sharp cold wind picked up again. Looking over Toshiro's back, he gasped. Toshiro's entire back was mauled to tattered shreds. Reaps of clothing hung from his wound, dyed red with the boy's blood, almost none of his skin could be seen as the blood still flowed freely down onto the snow. He would have to do something soon or the young man would surely die from this wound. The village elders would certainly know what to do.

He manoeuvred the white haired boy onto his back and positioned his head on his right shoulder, quickly went about to gathering the young man's belongings. Nearby, he scooped up the sheath. It was a deep, dark blue and had a deep green sash that was tied to each end. This sheath... It was similar to the pictures from Achilles' teachings about the weapons the Japanese and Chinese Assassins use.

The sheath had deep scratches that splintered the wood in several places. Done by the cougar no doubt, Connor thought as a glint of gold caught his eye on the right. A round, golden pin, shaped almost like a perfect round limpet shell, was embedded halfway into the snow. Reaching for it, it shone unnaturally in the fading winter sun. Glowing brighter and brighter until all was white around Connor.

"You have found him." A female voice rang through the white void.

Connor looked around to see if he can find the source of the voice but somehow, it sounded as if the voice was coming from everywhere. He recognized the voice. It was the same one he heard once before when he was young. During his sky journey...

"Him? What purpose would he serve?" He asked. Toshiro's weight became heavier on his back. "Tell me!" He demanded when no answer came.

A few more moments of silence hung in the air. "Only in time, will it be revealed." Her voice faded and the bright light retracted back into the pin. He turned his head to look at the young man's pale face on his shoulder.

Only in time…will it be revealed? Connor repeated to himself as he placed the pin into one of his many pockets. So many questions wrapped around his head. What purpose does that spirit have for him, was the main one that came circling around again and again.

Whatever the case may be, the homestead was too far for the attention he needed right now. Replacing his hidden blade back into its spring loader, he knelt down to replace Toshiro's sword back into its sheath and made his way down to the village, still confused at what just happened.

~XoXoX~

2 days later...

It was already well into the night and snow continued to fall gently from the heavens. Groaning noises was heard as one entered the village in the newly built hut to the left. Inside, large aloe leaves along with other herbs were crushed, mixed and mashed together by a fair skinned woman with long raven hair. Next to a small, warm fire, Toshiro was sitting with his back towards her as she kept working over him, applying a dark green paste to his wounds. The woman has been busy non-stop to stop the white haired boy's bleeding ever since Connor brought him to her. Toshiro grimaced in pain each time expert hands put pressure onto his tender back.

The village elder, a woman well advanced in years with thick, grey plaits framing her face, stood near the doorway with Connor. She has been watching both her clan member and the stranger with great interest.

"So the spirits have contacted you again, Ratonhnhaké:ton." The elder pondered about the information Connor has given her about what transpired earlier in the week.

"Yes." Connor nodded, "But why was I the one to have found him?" He continued, folding his arms as they watched Toshiro hiss in pain at their medicine woman's administrations.

"I do not know but if your spirits were the ones to say it, perhaps you are to take him to where you have found your symbol," she suggested to Connor as he considered it.

"No, that is out of the question. He is still only a child." He pointed out.

"So were you, when you started." She silenced him. "But… There is something different about this stranger." The elder walked over to Toshiro as she placed her hand on his good shoulder and spoke to Toshiro in their native language.

Connor sighed as he came around to stand in front of him to translate. "Our clan mother says that she senses you have a strong spirit. You have undergone a long journey and she feels that you have a longer journey still ahead of you."

Toshiro looked between Connor and the elder with a painful expression but disbelief still broke through. "How does she know that?"

Connor translated and waited for her reply. "The spirits guide her to know what cannot be seen or heard."

Toshiro's eyes grew wider but kept silent as he grimaced in pain once again. The paste was burning into his wounds but he could already feel a difference in the pain intensity as the woman finished applying her remedy for the night. The woman pointed to a roll of bandages at his side and gestured for him to lift his arms and he complied. The woman started to wrap bandages around his torso to keep the paste in place.

The elder spoke again, "Our elder says you can stay until your wounds are fully healed or until you feel well enough, then you must journey with me to Davenport." Connor translated as he looked down at him. Unsure if he could trust the white haired stranger as much as the elder did. For the time being, he will keep an eye on him and try to get as much information from him as he can.

"Thank you." Toshiro bowed his head to the old woman as she gave him a warm smile in return and the two women left. "She… You mentioned Davenport. Where is that?" He asked Connor as he wrapped a wolf pelt blanket around his bare upper body.

"It's a small village in the making north-east from here." Connor replied.

"Oh, but..." He looked down to the ground, "I'm actually looking for something."

Connor sat down across from him on the other side of the small fire. "What might that be?" He questioned.

"It's… It's private." He stared into the flames.

Connor could only search his face but he found nothing. Stoking the fire in the awkward silence, a particular question rose. "Can I ask you something?"

Not taking his eyes off the fire, Toshiro nodded. Connor dug into his back pockets, retrieved the golden pin and held it up in front of himself between his right thumb and index finger. "This pin… Where did you get it?"

Toshiro took it from him and held it to reflect the light from the fire. "It was something special I received from someone close to me. She said it will reveal something when the time is right. What that means however… I cannot say." He closed his fingers around the object as his hand disappeared behind the wolf pelt.

"So, nothing happened yet?" Connor became curious after what happened to him when he retrieved the pin.

"No." Toshiro shook his head, an awkward silence settled between them

"Where are you from, Toshiro? Your accent is not like the redcoats," Connor asked to change the subject.

"Please call me Hitsugaya," Connor nodded as he sighed and continued, "I was originally from Japan but my grandmother and I moved to England quite recently. She always speaks in Japanese and knew little English, so that is how I have my accent."

"How is it that you are here, now?" Connor continued to ask.

Toshiro looked away as he clutched the pelt closer to himself, "That is kind of a long and personal story."

Connor opened his mouth to ask again when hurried feet was heard outside the hut. "Ratonhnhaké:ton? Ratonhnhaké:ton!"

"Kanen'tó:kon? What's wrong?" Connor went outside and saw his childhood friend out of breath.

"Red- Redcoats! Here!" He replied in between breaths.

"I will deal with this." Connor replaced his hood over his head and checked his gear. "You should get some rest, Toshiro." He looked back at the white-haired man. Toshiro nodded and with that, Connor left.

Toshiro waited until everything was silent, only the crackling from the fire was heard. A pale hand slipped out from inside the pelt to reveal the gold pin once again. He placed the pin on his left palm and covered the top with his right, giving it a sharp twist. He removed the top to reveal a symbol that was melded into the bottom of the pin.

The red, four-point cross of the Templars…

~XoXoX~

Please Review~