Assassin's Creed:

Ashes of the Star

Prologue

2012

Seventy-eight... Seventy-nine... Eighty...

A bead of sweat dripped from my forehead to the ground, followed by another and another. I concentrated on keeping my body in the air, but it was more difficult than it looked.

Eighty-one... Eighty-two... Eighty-three...

I groaned. My muscles bunched. They burned. Something in the back of my mind begged me to stop. It wasn't just my body I was training; it was that stupid voice too.

Eighty-four... Eighty-five... Eighty-six...

Then again, I'd never quite got it to shut-up before. I gasped for air. The blood rushed to my head in cascading waterfalls. I prayed that I wouldn't lose count. My body was parallel to the nearest tree, my feet upwards in the air, and only my right arm was touching the ground. I kept my left arm firmly pinned to my side. All I was wearing was a white tank-top and grey sweatpants. My brown hair fell lank to the floor, caked with sweat from my most recent work-out. For now, my robes were laying dormant inside the van, where they would stay for a while.

Eighty-seven... Eighty-eight... Eighty-nine...

"You never cease to amaze me."

I closed my eyes. "You're breaking my concentration, Walter."

Walter, as usual, smiled devilishly and strode over to me. He laid on the ground once he reached me, so I got a mini-surprise once I'd opened my eyes. Walter wore a blue sweater that Shaun had lent him for the time being, and he wore dark jeans along with them. His chocolate eyes gazed into my liquid-gold, unwavering. Black hair stood up along his head in the oddest of ways, another trademark of his.

Don't lose count! Ninety... Ninety-one...

"Would you hate me forever if I broke your concentration, Sara?" Walter asked in his trademark monotone, his lips curling with an intent that I could only imagine.

"No..." Ninety-two... Ninety-three... Ninety-four... "But I'd probably stab you."

Walter chuckled. Ninety-five... Ninety-six... "I doubt you would. You enjoy my company too much. And I yours."

My cheeks reddened. Then again, from all the blood in my head, it didn't make much of a difference. Focus! Ninety-seven... Ninety-eight... Ninety-nine...

Walter gently pressed his lips against mine. The sudden move caught me off-guard, and I lost both my concentration and balance. I slammed onto my back and moaned, rubbing the back of my head that had collided with the ground.

The stupid Englishman chuckled. I glared at him from the ground. His head was above mine, staring down at me.

"You get a kick out of me making a fool of myself, don't you?" I grumbled.

Walter smirked and lowered his head, brushing his lips against mine, but not quite touching. "It's entertaining, to be sure. But I prefer it when you're flustered."

I rolled my eyes. Walter made full contact with my lips, and I smiled, but he pulled away. Too soon, it seemed to me.

"Did you hear that?" Walter asked as he looked around the area.

I sighed and sat up. Only the sounds of the forest in upstate New York dared reveal themselves. Nothing else.

"You're imagining things," I told him, spinning around to meet him. "You made me lose my concentration. I'll have to stab you now."

"Can I make it up to you?" Walter smiled sheepishly.

I extended my arms behind me. My hands rested on some rocks to keep my balance. "I suppose you could try. What did you have in mind?"

"I'd rather show you." Walter, once more, pressed his lips to mine. Just as I was deepening it, my right hand slipped off of a rock.

I hissed in air and clenched my fist. My hand was red with blood from a cut. Walter grabbed my hand and examined the tiny wound.

"I'm sorry," he said absently.

I smirked. "What're you sorry for? It was an accident. It's already healing, see?"

True to my words, the skin began to knit back together. I'd had worse, by far. And since it was minor, it would heal faster. Walter brought the palm of my hand up to his face and kissed the disappearing wound.

"When it heals, does it hurt?" Walter asked.

I shook my head. "It just tingles. It won't even scar."

Walter rubbed his hand against mine, clearing it of blood. "How many cuts have you gotten?"

I laughed. "Too many to count!" I said with a grin. I quickly kissed Walter's cheek and then stood up, tousling his already messy hair. "We should get back. I need to figure out how I'm going to shower... I'm sure you don't want to kiss a sweaty beast!"

Walter stood up and wrapped one of his arms around my shoulders, bringing me closer to him. "You still need to tell me more about yourself."

"Where'd I leave off?"

"You said you'd tell me some smaller stories rather than your whole biography."

I smiled. "Yeah... Well, I'll think on which ones I should tell you."

Walter sighed. "Oh dear. More waiting."

"Suck it up, princess. All good things come to those who wait."

"Like me," Walter added, showing-off his devilish smirk.

"You? Good?" I snorted. "Don't make me laugh, Walter Hugh!"

"That's my goal for eternity, Sara Taylor."

1431

I watched silently as the men escorted her. Her flowing red hair had been cut to her shoulders, but her ocean-blue eyes hadn't yet lost their fire. She gazed forward, determined, and didn't waver.

I smiled. She grew up well, I remarked. But she still has some growing to do...

I leapt off of the roof and slammed into one of the men. The narrow street disabled the men from using their halberds. I activated my hidden blades with a flick of my wrists and stabbed two guards as quickly as possible. A third drew his blade while the fourth tried to get up, but my foot was planted firmly on his chest. The guard ran at me and swung, but I grabbed the hilt of his sword. I punched his elbow, breaking his arm, and then reversed the sword, stabbing him in the heart. The last died by my hidden blades, gurgling his lifeblood in agony.

She stared at me, her body rigid. Her hands shook behind her and she clenched them in an effort to regain control of herself.

"Boo," I said.

She took a step back, her eyes widening. Four men appeared behind me, white hoods obscuring their faces and matching robes flowing behind them.

"Get her to safety," I ordered. They nodded and advanced on her. She took another step back. "Calm down. We're here to help."

"I'll face this myself, thank-you!" she snapped.

I grinned. "Oh, please. Death isn't something that you should face quite yet. Besides, we've got you covered."

She looked at us incredulously. I was dressed just as she was: a white, tattered gown, and I had even dyed my hair in blood to get it the colour she had. I'd also found a way to obscure my golden eyes and make them look like her blue.

"Who are you?" she asked quietly as I handed my hidden blades to one of the men beside me.

"Ask me when I come back," I told her. "Tie her bonds to me and then get changed. We don't want them to think she's escaped."

Her eyes widened. "No! You cannot face them! They'll kill you!"

"No," I said. "They'll kill 'The Maid of Orléans'." I smiled. "Hurry up, boys. Don't want to be late for the trial!"

A final robed man came and held her steady as they tied her bonds around my wrists. I nodded to her and grinned as the "guards" led me away. We needed her, so she couldn't die quite yet.

And who better to take her place than someone who couldn't die?

1918

We sprinted through the woods. My hand was firmly clasped around her wrist as we ran. Besides the sound of our breathing, I could hear she was sobbing. I bit my lip as we reached the edge of the forest and stopped, allowing us both to catch our breaths. She needed it more than I did, though.

The young Grand Duchess gasped and leaned against a tree. Tears streaked down her face as she tried to make sense of her situation. She didn't fully believe what had happened. She probably wouldn't for a while.

I groaned and felt for wounds. Bullets had riddled my chest, but they weren't too deep. I could pull them out, albiet painfully. She only had a nick at her side. It bled, but I could stop it.

She fell to her knees, her entire body shaking with sorrow. I focused on getting the bullets out. Five of them. I found a stick and bit down on it as I dug my fingers into my flesh, feeling around for the tiny lead balls. As the last dropped to the ground, I spat the stick out and looked at her. Her sobs had slowed, but not stopped.

"We have to keep moving," I told her. "I know it's hard, but you must keep moving!"

She glared up at me. "You know?! You think you know what I'm going through?! Who are you?! Why did you take me away from my family?! Why didn't you help them?!"

"I couldn't save them all," I admitted. "I tried, but I couldn't. Your family still lives in you, though."

"I don't care!" she yelled. "Olga... Alexei... Maria... Tatiana... Mother and father too! How could you?!"

I crouched and glared into her eyes. She recoiled at the sight of mine. "I. Tried," I said firmly. "I know what it's like to lose family. But they wouldn't want you to die! They'd want you to live!" I stood up and held out a hand. "So you can either stand up and run, deny your enemy their final victory, or you could surrender to them, die, and lose the Romanov family line forever!"

Anastasia clenched her fists and stared at the ground. I could hear movement not far off, but still...

"You don't have the time to sit around and think, unless you want them to get you," I told her.

She grasped my hand. I pulled her to her feet and started running, Anastasia trailing behind me. We'd escape. I'd make sure of it.

And I'd be damned if anyone tried to kill her.