"Achilles, you will be missed, but never forgotten. Go safely, old man, safely to where your soul needs rest." Father Timothy's eulogy was short, but suiting. The other Homesteaders, Connor's friends, placed roses down where Achilles' body now laid. One by one they all left, anxious to get out of the rain. Connor knew they had left, but he did not see them go. He could not take his eyes off the box that now lay in the ground. The rain was pounding the back of his head, like a punishment for not getting home fast enough. For not being there when Achilles had passed. Connor clenched his fists, Achilles told him to be home early, that he wanted to discuss something with him, but he did not listen. Connor did not want another lecture from the old man, Achilles's his will, his last words, that must have been what he wanted to discuss.
Connor couldn't tear his eyes from the grave, it was like tunnel vision, he could not see anything else. This man was his father, his family, this man gave him a purpose and a place, a brotherhood and now he was gone. Just like the rest of his family, just like everyone else he had ever cared for. Connor could feel the tears welling up, and he was grateful for the rain. He stayed there a few more minutes, letting the rain sting him, the pain grounded him. He ran the eagle feather that he was holding through his hand. Connor held it over the grave and let it go. He watched it gently float down, landing on the casket. "I will make you proud Old Man."
The sun had almost set and Connor had just finished shoveling back the, now, mud back over the grave. Connor had the shovel in this hands and he was staring at the fresh grave. The tears were free flowing now, and Connor felt like his insides were being crushed, liked parchment being crumpled. His fists clenched around the shovel, Connor was alone now. He had no family left. Everyone was dead. Rage welled up inside him, he couldn't take it anymore! He threw the shovel, he couldn't stand being by the grave anymore, he couldn't be here. So Connor ran, he didn't know where he was going, but he didn't stop and he didn't look back, he couldn't. The rain stung his face as his feet pounded the ground.
The sun had set and Connor still had not stopped. His lungs were burning and his limbs were drained, he slowed to a jog. The moonlight was guiding him and he came to a small clearing in the forest. In that one moment, Connor had never felt more alone. He sank to his knees and a horrible sob racked his body. Tears of sadness and anger poured down his face, he felt hollow and numb. He put his face in his hands, he doubled over and screamed. Anguish was all he felt, sob after sob racked his body. He pounded the ground with his fists as another scream tore through him. He couldn't take it anymore! No matter how hard he tried, no matter what he did, he still failed. Ziio, Kanen, Haytham, and now Achilles… He had seen enough, he was tired, tired of everything.
In that moment, the rain stopped. Connor looked up at the night sky, the stars were brighter than ever. He looked down at his hands, they were covered in mud, the sides of his fists were throbbing, and he could feel the bruises already forming. He looked up, this was not how he would honor Achilles, his friend, or his mother. He would honor them by fighting. One Templar remained, one man that he had sought for over twenty years. Connor was not finished yet.
