Broken Freedom

Prologue –

The churning seas of London…

"It's just the way father described…"

Breathtaking, really. Never had the twins seen so many people all hurdled together at once; so many faces, colors, sizes, shapes…it was terrifying yet thrilling at the same time. The only problem was, with so many people they were bound to attract attention to not only themselves but their cause. They needed to remain discreet if they were going to not only take down Starrick, but find the Piece of Eden as well.

"Now, to find Henry Green," Evie Frye snaps herself out of her trance, turning to glance at her brother, who was marveling at the sight of so many people, "and formulate a plan of attack against the Templars."

"Who is Mr. Green again?" Jacob Frye asks, not paying too much attention anyway. There was just…so much. So much opportunity in this vast city. It was almost overwhelming…

His sister turns and gives him a slightly surprised look. "The Assassin watching over London? Did you not listen the first three times?"

He can't help but grin at her annoyance. Turning to face her, he holds out his arms, chuckling as he spoke. "Listen to what?"

Before she can scold him, he's being pushed forward suddenly, by a small child getting too close for comfort. He turns and watches the kid put something quickly into his pocket, holding up his hands innocently. "Oi! Watch it!" the Assassin exclaims.

The kid gives him a weak smile, quickly turning on his heels. "Beg pardon, sir!"

Feeling for the wallet where it should be in the pocket on the side of his jacket, Jacob's eyes narrow. "Oi! Come back here you filthy dipper!"

He takes off after the kid, ignoring Evie's call as he breaks through a crowd of people. A few of them called out as he pushed passed them, quickly apologizing as someone drops a large basket of fruit all over the sidewalk, and as he knocks someone sitting on a fence over it. He watches the kid run under an arch of a building, following closely behind, and how could a damn kid run this fast?!

The kid seemed to have a plan, however, and much to Jacob's irritation, he found himself running head first into a group of red suited men, who immediantly turned and sneered at him. The kid ran down another alley, and with a huff of air, Jacob lets him go.

"Fine you little mobsman…keep it."

One of the men dressed in red spoke up in a gruff voice. "Well, well, what do we have here?" They looked like the guards Ferris had surrounded himself with back at Crawley, Jacob noticed. Were they part of some kind of gang?

"You're on our property," the other grins sadistically, the glint of a blade catching the Assassin's eye.

Jacob grinned. "Well, what are you going to do about it, then?"

They didn't answer with words, but with a swing of fists and blades. Dodging the first one, the young male grins and ducks down, grabbing the arm now flying over him, before standing up quickly and snapping the bones like twigs. He then swings his victim into the guy with the knife, causing him to accidently get stabbed instead. Blade-Man backs off, his eyes widening in shock, before he scoffs in a growl and pulls out his gun, aiming right for Jacob's head.

The loud pop and bang of the weapon echoed against the alley walls, but much to the man's dismay, Jacob had effortlessly dodged his weak attempt and took a quick step towards him, snatching the arm with the gun in hand, throwing the deadly object aside. Still holding the guys arm, he pulls him towards him, spinning him around, before grabbing either side of his head a finishing with a clean snap.

Satisfied with his work, Jacob grins and steps back. Laughing he turns just in time to see his sister enter the alley with a disapproving frown.

"Ha! Excellent. What else does London have to offer?"

He didn't notice the girl in red stagger back with wide eyes, which darted between the man who just slaughtered her comrades with the purest of ease, to the woman dressed in black the same height as him, the well-known symbol of the Assassin's embedded on her jacket.

She turns and runs, out of the alley, out onto the street where a group of red dressed members of her gang sat around a carriage. "We need to report to Roth," she exclaims, panting breathlessly. One of the larger blokes turns and gives her a questioning raise of his brow.

"What now?"

She turns and points to the alley. "There's Assassins. Two of 'em. One of them just took out James and William!"

Their eyes widen at this news. If the Assassins were here, then…

"Let's go, then," one of the gang members spoke out, jumping up to grab the reigns of the carriage. "Roth will want to know if there's trouble."

"Shouldn't we tell Kaylock?" One of them asks as they start moving.

The girl nods. "I'll go."

She leaves the carriage behind and begins to head out, but then catches sight of someone running across the rooftops…wasn't that Henry Green?

Too many things of interest were happening at too fast a pace. She could bet all her money that those two Assassins were meeting up with Green to discuss the First Civilization Artifact Kaylock was interested in. Or rather the artifact Starrick wanted Kaylock to look into. She honestly didn't care what they were after, as long as she could live and get paid.

She starts running through the streets, looking for her gang members and asking around for Kaylock. Running to a group on the corner, she asks if they know, and they report that he's not too far off…

Then the three Assassins run right by them, on the opposite side of the street. Their eyes meet, before the one, Henry Green, hands something to the two and takes off. The male Assassin turns and waves at them, before he and the girl jump in a carriage and start shooting in the air in challenge.

"Go tell Kaylock!" one of the gang members tells her, and she nods, quickly turning about face and running as fast as she could go.

She didn't get far before she was grabbed by Mr. Green himself, assassinated and left behind in the alley she mistakenly turned down.

London was known to many as a place where you can be free, do as you wish and not have to worry about how you look, sound, or behave…at least, to the more rowdy boroughs. No matter where you went, you saw children working and playing, men clanking large mugs of beer together, fight clubs carrying out into the streets, gangs of red and green fighting and then running from the police. You had to carry a gun on you at all times, and keep your wallet hidden from thieving hands. A drunk man can be found falling out of a tree, while a lady born in royalty steals a train and all the money on it.

London was the heart of the world, the center of the party. It was alive and bustling, exciting yet dangerous.

It was the perfect place for Jacob Frye.

The air splitting, popping sounds of a gun are echoed off of the alley walls. The weapon smoked as he held it in the air, waving his arm with a lopsided grin and a determined glare in his eyes.

"This borough belongs to us!"

The agreeing shouting and cheering behind him carried him like a tidal wave. His gang ran passed him, charging head on with the reds that were now second guessing themselves. Some of the cowards ran away.

With a sharp slice of his cane, he unsheathes the blade and swings it just in time to close-line the brave Blighter running towards him. His other arm flicked its wrist as the hidden blade on his gauntlet sliced through the head of the red on his left. Faster than anyone could see, the blade retracts and out is that gun again, nailing the idiot straight in front of him who thought it would be a good idea to look death in the eyes, right in the head. Cheering all around him brought another grin to his lips. He waves his arm backwards this time, signalling for his Rooks to take a step back. They knew better than to take on the gang leader of red and black, Templar pendant swinging from her neck.

Only Jacob was allowed that kind of pleasure.

A swipe of his nose, tip of his hat, and devilish grin was all the Blighter got before she's stabbed, sliced, head-butted and beaten into a pulp on the ground, groaning her final breath. The young Assassin responsible for her death, steps back, holding his cane up in the air, the blood slick as it dripped from it, shining in the twilight, his voice loud and clear.

"Ladies and gentlemen! We are Jacob and Evie Frye, and as of this moment, you all…"

Everyone screams and cheers, and the remaining Blighters had no choice but to take the red hats off.

"work for us!"

'A letter…for me?'

He turns the paper around in his hands, the only thing written on the bright white envelop being of his named, scrawled in perfect cursive, inked in a dark red that could be mistaken as blood. No seal, no return address, no name of whom it was from. The letter in question had been dropped off that morning at the Whitechapel station, where they picked up their supplies and took care of their train, right as they came to a stop. The Rook leader had awoken with a start when Agnes dropped the paper on his face, saying it was given to her by an odd man that acted almost like a machine. He had no emotion, spoke quietly yet clearly, and walked in a stiff manner. She said he was the strangest thing she had ever seen.

"What's that?" the sudden voice of his sister catches him off guard, and he turns to give his nosey twin a small glare. He's startled when he takes in her appearance; her hair slightly out of place, a very red marking around either side of her neck, a few tears in her clothes and some cuts and bruises here and there.

"You look bloody awful!" he exclaims, not able to stop the grin that brings his lips up in amusement. Her eyes widen and she looks down at herself, as if just realizing her current predicament.

What happens is a bloom of red across her cheeks, and the normally formal Assassin holds a hand up to her head in embarrassment. "I…got into a bit of a fight with Lucy Thorne."

He frowns now, giving her a skeptical look. "I thought you were only going to The Monument? Where did you run into her?"

Evie seems to sound somewhat proud as she speaks. "St. Paul's Cathedral," she explains. "That's where the clues pointed to. There was a room hidden at the top holding the key to the Shroud."

The letter was forgotten in his hands as he turns to fully face her now. "Oh? And what of the key, then?"

Now she seemed embarrassed again, looking away from her younger brother. "Ms. Thorne followed me up there. We got into a fight, and she took the key."

Oh, this was golden. Jacob can't help but grin at her, feeling a bit smug that his 'perfect' sister failed her mission. "And she got away, I presume?"

The girl turns and glares at him. "She threw herself out of the window. I could have let her kill me on the glass, or let her go." When his grin doesn't falter, her eyes narrow. "I'm going to get it back."

He holds up his hands innocently, tearing the envelope open with his hidden blade. "Of course you are," he chuckles.

She scowls at him, but watches with curiousity as he unfolds the paper, his brows furrowing slightly as his hazel green eyes scan the words. He seems to read it once, then twice, before finally answering her unspoken question. "A dinner invitation."

Her frown only deepens. "And with whom are you dining this evening?"

He hesitates for a moment, as if debating on whether or not to tell her. A prying glare from her convinces him to do so. "Maxwell Roth."

Her eyes widen. "The leader of the Blighters?" At his nod, she frowns. "You're not going."

He shrugs, folding the paper into a small square, placing it inside one of the pockets of his jacket. "Of course not."

She can't tell if he's serious, and she doesn't have time to ponder it, when Agnes comes up to her, wanting to talk. "You have a minute? I need a wee bit of advice."

Giving her brother one last warning look, Evie turns and follows the plump woman into the next train car.

Looking towards the wall where Henry had set up their Templar targets, his eyes fall on the sketched picture of Maxwell Roth himself. It was odd how the Blighter leader was approaching him, he felt. Obviously a trap, he knew for sure, but still odd. He knew he would attract the man's attention eventually, although he was more concerned with harming Starrick than anyone. So far, the Rooks had succeeded in taking over not only Whitechapel, but Lambeth, the Thames, and half of Southwark was soon to follow. It's all he had been doing since arriving in London; taking over the boroughs and rallying up the Rooks. He's turned the Blighter's strongholds into safe havens for his own gang, and Clara's children. Templar targets throughout the streets were disappearing one by one, and quickly at that. Children were being freed from the torment of their forced labor, given well paying jobs from the Rooks and training as wonderful spies. Cargo shipments across London are actually making it to their destinations, pleasing Ned Wynert and making the Rook leader stupid rich with income. Using the money to set up warehouses for his gang, collect weapons and supplies, give as many of them homes as possible, Jacob was succeeding in flipping everything Starrick had done, around.

He had never felt so good about anything in his life. After he took over Southwark, he planned on taking the City of London, killing as many Templars along the way as he could.

…and the Blighters? Many of them had already left the Templars and Starrick to join the Rooks, tired of the way their lives were ran, looking for something better and a good future. Less and less red was showing up on the streets, and green was flooding it like the churning tides of the Thames.

No, it didn't surprise Jacob at all that Maxwell Roth would be interested in him. He wanted to meet the man that was causing his gang so much trouble.

An obvious trap, but…

He looks over as he watches Evie pull her hood up, ready to go out on a mission. He would never hear the end of it if he accepted this invitation, and it would most likely lead to another argument.

Making a final decision, he turns and heads to the back of the train, jumping out and diving over the bridge they were on.

Jacob Frye,

I have heard and seen of your efforts throughout great London, and I must admit I'm impressed with all you have done. It would honor me greatly if you were to join me for dinner. I have a business proposition I feel you may be interested in. You may find me in the Alhambra Music Hall located in the Strand. I look forward to your visit.

Deepest Regards,

Maxwell Roth

…and to the Strand, he went.

Notes-

This is my first Assassin's Creed fanfiction, and if you know me from my Sonic ones, then you know this isn't going to be innocent. This is my proudest story yet so far, and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.

Anonymoux