In this world, I see nothing but black or white. There's no grays when it comes to Templar or Assassin. Its been that way for the longest time, this eternal struggle. Who's good, who's bad?

Even the assassins have their own corrupt natures. Or, maybe it's when the Templars infiltrate the brotherhood that they are led astray. I personally don't care. They've both been after me for ages. No matter where I look, my blood is a wanted vial in their experiments. I'm not even a Sage or part of some ancient race. I'm human.

Of course maybe I have your attention. Why would both sides fight over me? Let me tell you its a long story that dates back all the way to the days before Ezio Auditore da Firenze . That great master was extraordinary, but not everything was written down when it came down to him. In the war against good versus evil, its the winner who writes the history books. When the world is against you, your name never hits a page.

My personal struggle begins in the time of one of my ancestors in the late 17th century to the mid 18th century. What a time for America. What a time for pirates! And boy, what a time for those who opposed the Assassin Order. What a time.

Whenever I'm not hiding in the hull of an unsuspecting ship, I'm gathering information about the Templars around this Caribbean. Occasionally, I handle a job by myself- not that I have anyone to work with. I have my friends, but I work alone. Why, you ask? To whom it may concern, I'll have you know that I am none other than what the European branch of the Order calls a Rebel. I opposed the rules of the Assassins and was said to have committed a treasonous crime.

Did I? No. But when the Grand Master is actually a Templar infiltrate, you can't do much to persuade everyone else. Everyone I knew turned on me. Those I loved were killed- yet even that wasn't so much as the Master murdered by family a long time ago. But, I should probably explain that.

When I was four years old, my parents went on a mission sent from the Master himself. That very night that they left, the Master personally informed me of their deaths. I was given to a an old monk who had once served in the brotherhood in his youth. I grew up as a genius among my fellow trainees. I was the best. Finally, I was recognized as the Crow- an Assassin with direct ties to the brother of Altair, Eliezer Ibn-La'Ahad, who was said to have a power connected to the strange ancient race before man. I was a weapon before I had seen thirteen summers.

In my own skill, I uncovered sinister files concerning what I found to be my parents' murder plot. They wanted me alone so that my father, a devoted Christian, could not interfere with my further training and use within the Order. When I tried to reveal my findings to the Order, I was cast off as a blasphemer. Then a hit was ordered on me for digging too deep. The Master's personal guard was sent for me. I killed him and then used his blade to kill his master the next morning when I was believed dead. When the bodies were found, I was a wanted man. That old monk was killed, leaving only his owl- an extraordinary pet- in my care. Weird as it was, that owl gave me comfort when our friend was killed.

I fled to the coasts. Before I knew it, men everywhere were looking for me, informants and Assassins alike. With no were to go, I found myself trapped in the ports overlooking the Bristol Channel in England. I kept low and quiet for days before finally deciding to hide aboard a ship to escape my demise. Consequentially, I found refuge aboard the ship named the "Sea Dog's Bite". As my first attempt, I was quickly found by it's captain, who seemed to be in a drunken rage.

"If those hounds want my head for treason, I say-" a man in his late twenties held a liquor glass to his lips. The start of a beard claimed most of his lower face.

"Captain, if you please would keep your voice down," a gentleman in rags stained by years at sea calmed him. " They might just do as you ask them if you raise your voice so much louder."

"Oy! Who be there smuggled within my ship! A shadow just escaped my eye," the slurred speech of the captain pointed me out immediately as I stayed between some cargo on the front deck. With a dagger within reach, I stood and slowly came down to the wooden planks of the dock.

"Was just looking for passage, captain. Didn't want no trouble, see?" I assured him.

"No trouble, you say? That's my ship you's stowing away on! I see ALL the trouble in that! Who sent you? The governor, huh? Well give the man my token of gratitude!" the bearded man clasped his hands around a blade at his side and charged at me. With the drunkenness taken over his mind, it wasn't too hard to avoid the attack. Instead he stumbled and fell into the harbor with a splash- his sword disappearing into the sand.

"AARRGG!" he jumped up for air, a fire in his eyes. "My sword was taken to the depths of Davy Jones!"

I bent over the deck and extended my hand. With a sneer, he refused to take my hand at first.

"How about this, sir. I help you up, find your sword, and let you sleep your drunken state off, then you give me free passage to wherever you lead?" I asked. It must've been weird seeing a nearly fifteen year old boy saying such mature things, but the man looked me straight in the eyes and smiled a bit.

"You find my sword, and I'll leave port the moment I have it in my hands."

After helping the man to the ground, I took to the water and used my sense to find the fallen weapon. In minutes I came to the two men again with the blade. As I approached, I saw more men pour out of the pub nearby to the ship I had tried to board.

"Seems you found it lad," the captain's man said with a grin. "mighty fast that was,"

"Got talent, do you son?" the captain looked down at me, taking his sword back. I nodded and waited for him. He waved the other man away to the ship and put a hand on my shoulder. "Boy, I have seen those eyes before."

"Excuse me?"

"I've seen them in me self. Not the greed or the pride or madness, but the urge to leave- to get out and go somewhere. I believe my urges are a bit different from yours however. So tell me lad, why do you want to leave so soon?"

"Why would you jump to such a conclusion?"

"You dived in the drink for another man's sword just for free passage. I have given passage to many for less favors."

"My reason is not to concern you, captain. I would much rather get going," I turned and started heading to the ship, with already had it's crew preparing for a late night.

"They're after you, ain't they?" he suddenly asked, stopping me in my tracks. He snickered a little before continuing. "Those Assassins, eh?"

"How did you-"

"Your belt son, you have the mark of an Assassin I saw once. He didn't come for me, but I still saw him. Ain't much of a secret when you're parading it around like a white flag, son."

I looked down at my crimson sash that hung from my belt. The curved insignia made me stand out to anyone who knew what it was. I took out my dagger and the sash and made it into ribbons before tossing it onto the sea. I didn't say anything to the captain, who stood peering over the side with me for a second.

"You know, pirates and hideaways always get along for one reason. You know what?" I gave him an empty look, while a crazy smile crawled over his face. "We're always looking for someone to have our back."

We went onto the ship. He called for the anchor to be raised and for all the sails to catch the wind. I grabbed the sides of the ship, having never earned my sea-legs.

"What be your name, lad?" the captain came to me.

"Name is Nathaniel Ysrael," I smiled, holding onto the railing for dear life. "Yours, sir."

"No more of this sir nonsense. We're friends now, Nate. Call me Thatch. Name be Edward Thatch."