A/N: This is my first fanfiction. Normally, i wouldn't post anything I write but hiropon056 said I should post it so here it is. Thank you, hiropon056! This story is for you and all the other Connor fans out there.
CHAPTER 1
His mother always told him that it didn't matter how different he was or how he came to be, it only mattered that he was one of them, the people of the flint; and he would always have a place among them.
She was wrong.
His mother died during the attack on the village seven years ago. He can still remember the heat, the smell of smoke, the crackling of fire and the screams of his kinsmen, burning as his mother had.
You must be strong, Ratonhnhaké:ton. You must be brave.
The village didn't take very long to rebuild but it still bore scars, reminders of that day. The logs that survived the fire were reused despite the soot that still stained them. The soil is no longer as fertile as it once was; now it is scorched and difficult to farm. The animals that used to wander into the village on occasion have kept their distance since that day.
The villagers have changed as well. And why wouldn't they? He was not the only one who lost a loved one to the fire. They've grown bitter and wary, angered by these outsiders who have come to claim land that was never theirs to claim, bringing with them disease and war. Outsiders like his father.
Therein lay his problem.
There have been several other unfortunate incidents since the attack, both man-made and natural, and the villagers have been saying that a curse has been placed on the village. They believed that the outsiders bring strife and misfortune wherever they go. That it was in their blood, just as it was in his.
It wasn't long until they began to believe that he was the source of the curse that had befallen the village and suddenly, it did not matter that he was one of them.
His mother was wrong.
"I cannot change their minds, Ratonhnhaké:ton. I have tried, but they are stubborn and deaf to reason. Even as a clan mother, I cannot overrule a unanimous decision. They are all convinced that you are responsible for a curse that does not exist." Said Oiá:ner from where she was sitting on the other side of the fire. Her braided hair glowed a shining silver in the firelight and her wrinkled face was made older by the shadows, "I wish they could see the boy that I see; a clever, kind boy with a pure heart. You do not deserve this abuse."
"It's alright, Oiá:ner," he replied quietly, blushing at the compliment, "Even if you convince them to let me stay, they will resent both of us for it."
"That is true." Her voice was sad but there was anger in her eyes and she threw a small log into the fire a bit more roughly than she normally would. He knew that she cared for him, that she was angry on his behalf, and he was grateful for that. He was glad that at least one person in the village was still on his side.
There was a moment of solemn silence before he asked hesitantly, "Where do you think I should go?"
"Perhaps you could seek your father…" she suggested thoughtfully.
That would be great; if he knew anything about his father besides his first name and that he did not stay with his mother long enough to know that she was pregnant. Even if he could find him, would his father even want him? He didn't want to know the answer to that question.
"I want to help protect our people…" he murmured, "Maybe I could learn their ways, so that I may connect with them and then convince them to leave our people alone. Maybe I could even help them find peace as well."
Oiá:ner smiled at him from across the fire, the corners of her eyes crinkled in an expression of fondness.
"A noble cause, Ratonhnhaké:ton."
There was another moment of silence as they smiled at each other. This was something they have always done. They often spent the evenings sitting across from each other near the fire inOiá:ner's longhouse. When he was younger, she used to tell him stories, about the spirits and their ancestors; but as he grew older, they began to talk about other things, like the village and its people, the forest and its wildlife, even the outsiders. He hoped that this would not be the last time, that they could do this again one day.
He frowned in confusion as Oiá:ner slowly rose to her feet with the help of her walking staff and hobbled to a pile of things resting against the wooden side of the longhouse. She gathered a few objects into her arms and brought them to him.
"I made you a few things for you to take with you." She said as she knelt beside him.
She handed him a bedroll first. It was soft and thick and would be comfortable even on the bumpy and uneven forest floor. It was a deep blue colour and he wondered how she knew that it was his favourite shade of blue.
Blue is safe. Blue is the colour of allies.
"Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet," she replied with an impish smile as she revealed the next object.
His jaw dropped as she handed him a Tomahawk. The elegant but oddly shaped blade was a gleaming silver and the curved shaft was wrapped in leather cords of brown and red. A perfect eagle feather hung from the shaft.
Oiá:ner chuckled at his stunned expression, "Your bow is perfect for hunting but it's of little use when your enemy is an arm's length away," she said, then she leaned forward to murmur conspiratorially, "They thought that it was for me. I suspect they will not be happy that I actually had it made for you. Serves them right."
A bark of surprised laughter escaped him and he shook his head in disbelief. It seemed that their wise leader has been hiding a mischievous side under her calm façade.
She handed him a bear pelt next, which he placed on the ground with the bed roll and tomahawk as she gave him the last item. It was a necklace with a round shell pendant hanging from four beaded cords that were tied together.
"For good luck," she told him, and suddenly his heart was in his throat and his eyes began to burn with unshed tears.
"Thank you, Oiá:ner," he croaked, "For everything. I don't know what I will do without you."
"Oh, my child," she soothed, placing a hand on his shoulder, "This is not the end. The others may have driven you out of the village and I may not have much say in it, but you can visit me anytime you like." Then she raised her chin and her eyes were lit with defiance, "And if they don't like it, then I'll be using this walking staff for more than walking."
"I'll keep that in mind." He promised, his lips stretched into a rare grin.
"Good," she said with a nod, "Now go. It is late and you will need your rest for tomorrow. You have a difficult journey ahead of you."
He quickly gathered his new things and headed for the doorway, where he turned to wish his clan mother goodnight for one last time.
"Goodnight, Oiá:ner."
"Goodnight, Ratonhnhaké:ton."
Kanen'tó:kon strode through the village, glaring at everyone that crossed his path.
He was angry-No, he was furious.
His best friend was being driven out of the village because "he is a curse upon the village".
That is ridiculous! Anyone who really knew Ratonhnhaké:ton can tell you that he is the kindest, most responsible person you can ever meet. He was the best hunter the village had and he was only thirteen winters old! When everyone else had laughed at him and joked that he was too fat to hunt, Ratonhnhaké:ton took the time to patiently teach him how to hunt, how to gather, how to climb trees and how to swim. He even killed a bear to save him!
I have faith in you, Kanen'tó:kon. Have some in yourself.
If they had more people like Ratonhnhaké:ton, they would never need for anything! Why were they doing this? It wasn't fair!
He stopped in the doorway of Ratonhnhaké:ton's hut, watching as he packed some supplies into a bag made of deer skin.
"So it's true? You're really leaving?" He demanded.
Ratonhnhaké:ton turned to give him a unreadable look over his shoulder.
"Yes, it's true." He replied quietly as he finished packing.
He entered the hut and moved to stand at his friend's side, briefly noting the new necklace around his friend's neck, "Do you have to leave? Can't you stay anyway? It's not as if they would kill you if you stayed."
"I do not wish to be a burden on Oiá:ner. If I stay, they would cause her trouble. I cannot let that happen. I already owe her too much."
He watched as his friend placed the last of his possessions in the bag. Ratonhnhaké:ton was smaller than him in size and younger than him in years; and yet, he never failed to make him feel like a child. He was always so calm and reasonable that Kanen'tó:kon often forgot that he was the elder and not his quiet friend. If it were up to him, he would gladly name him chief in a heartbeat.
"It's not fair!" He blurted loudly and Ratonhnhaké:ton's turned to stare at him, startled by his outburst.
Kanen'tó:kon clenched his jaw in an attempt to contain his ire. "You don't deserve any of this. I don't understand why they would blame you for things you cannot control!"
"They're afraid, Kanen'tó:kon. Times are changing and with that change comes uncertainty and fear. People do not think rationally when they are frightened. A curse is more easily removed than the threat of war." Ratonhnhaké:ton replied with infuriating calm.
"Is there a threat of war?"
"I don't know. I don't know much about the foreigners and their conflict but I intend to investigate. I want to help protect our people."
He stared at Ratonhnhaké:ton incredulously. How can he be so forgiving? The villagers were throwing him out of the only home he had ever known, and here he is, making plans to help protect them despite that. Then again, he shouldn't be so surprised. This was Ratonhnhaké:ton after all; it was in his nature to protect.
"Why are you so calm about this?" He questioned, confused by his friend's lack of resentment.
His friend only gave him a nonchalant shrug in reply.
Ratonhnhaké:ton glanced at the doorway and frowned, "I think I should be going soon." He said quietly before turning to pull the straps of the bag, then his quiver and bow over his head to rest on his left shoulder.
And with those words, Kanen'tó:kon felt something akin to panic. Would this be the last time he saw his friend?
His face must have reflected his alarm because when Ratonhnhaké:ton looked up at him, his stoic expression melted into a reassuring smile.
"Don't worry, my friend. This will not be the last time we see each other." He said confidently, "Oiá:ner has asked me to come visit and I intend to. I don't know if I will return soon but I promise you I will return." Then he grinned suddenly, a spark of humour entering his eyes, "Just don't go bear hunting until I come back, you might get yourself killed."
Kanen'tó:kon spluttered and laughed, "You will never let me forget that, will you?"
Ratonhnhaké:ton clapped him on the shoulder, the grin still present, "Never."
Then his friend turned to leave and he quickly followed so that they were walking side by side through the village. He can feel the villagers' eyes on them, no doubt relieved that the so called "curse-bearer" was leaving.
Idiots.
As they approached the village entrance, he noticed that the clan mother was waiting for them, leaning on the walking staff and hunched over to keep herself warm in the cold.
"Oiá:ner," Ratonhnhaké:ton greeted with a hint of concern in his voice, "You did not need to see me off."
"I wanted to." She said, "Do you have everything you need?"
"Yes. I'm ready to go." He told her.
"May the spirits guide you then, my child." She said solemnly, her hand patting his cheek in a maternal gesture.
"Thank you, Oiá:ner."
As Ratonhnhaké:ton turned to say goodbye to him, Kanen'tó:kon pulled him into a brief hug, "Take care, brother."
"You too, brother." He replied. He gave them one last smile before he turned and marched towards the forest.
"Do you think he'll be alright, Oiá:ner?" he asked his clan mother tentatively as they watched Ratonhnhaké:ton fade into the white, snowy forest.
She smiled fondly at the trees where his friend disappeared, "If there is anyone who can survive alone in this world, it's Ratonhnhaké:ton."
Ratonhnhaké:ton ran through the trees, jumping and swinging from branch to branch with ease. He was still contemplating his next move. First, he needed find a place to stay. Perhaps, when the snow has melted and spring returns, he might even build himself a hut or something to live in.
Second, he needed to investigate the people who live nearby so that he can recognize friend from foe. The last thing he wants is to accidentally bump into people that held a grudge against his kind. He has to be careful. He must learn all that he can about these outsiders.
He was shaken from his musings at the approaching sound of drums. Curious, he paused on a branch to pinpoint the direction of the sound before changing course, following the rhythm to a road.
He climbed one of the trees by the road to a higher branch so he would not be seen and dropped into a comfortable crouch to observe the source of the sound.
A group of men, dressed in clothes the color of blood, were marching in a neat file down the road. The one at the very front was using two straight sticks to drum on a round white barrel. Behind him were four warriors and Ratonhnhaké:ton quickly took inventory of their weapons. All four carried a long, spear like weapon which, he assumed, was the "musket" thing one of the clan members once told him about, the tallest man had an axe hanging from his belt and there was another with a sheathed sword hanging at his hip. He also wore a ridiculous looking black hat that made Ratonhnhaké:ton bite his lip to suppress a snort.
As they trooped past him, a carriage pulled by horses came from the opposite end of the road and the drums came to an abrupt halt. The soldiers stopped and waited as the carriage came closer. The one with the sword and silly hat took a few steps forward and called out, "Halt!"
Ratonhnhaké:ton was glad that his mother taught him English, because if he didn't speak it, he would not have understood the rest of the conversation.
"What can I help you with, sirs?" asked the nervous looking carriage driver.
"Where are you going?" demanded the same soldier.
"Boston, sir."
"What's in the carriage?"
"Food, sir, from my farm. I'm taking it to be sold at the market there."
The soldier scrutinized the poor farmer, who was still looking a bit nervous but didn't seem to be hiding anything. The soldier must have come to the same conclusion, for he huffed and waved the carriage forward, "Be on your way then."
"Thank you, sir." The carriage driver looked relieved as he spurred the horses forward again. Why was he so nervous? What was he expecting? Whatever the reason for the farmer's anxiety, it would probably be a good idea to avoid these men clad in red.
And with that decision in mind, Ratonhnhaké:ton turned and resumed his mission to find shelter.