Ebony

The storyteller. The link to our pasts. The Animus. Fascinating, profitable, never-ending. Dangerous. It's been called all of these things, and I think of it as such.

I'd read about it in the magazines…the newspapers. I remember when it first happened, the "revolutionary" machine that could drudge up people's ancestors and record their memories. I found it fascinating when I first read about it. Actually, I still do find it fascinating…just in a very different way.

I was surprised when Abstergo showed up at my door. Why would they want me? What was so important about my past? My bloodline? I couldn't understand…not for the longest time.

But the Animus has all the time in the world. I was pulled into a battle that started with the beginning of time. At the time I didn't even know about the Templars or the Assassins. I was just a girl who wanted adventure. I got it…

And I got everything I thought I wanted…and everything that came with it…

Tahira

"Tahira!" My head snapped up. It was never good when Tor was angry. It meant I'd done something wrong. "Pay attention! This is important!" he shouted.

I bowed my head, "I'm sorry, Teacher."

"I know you are worried, but you must pay attention!" he scolded. I looked up at him, intimidated.

"Tor, if I fail today, will you care?" I asked. I was serious, too. I usually was with him. He always earned it.

He stared at me for a long time and I noticed a muscle along his defined jawline twitch. His dark, piercing eyes—which I'd become so familiar after so many years—scanned my face. He crossed his arms over his chest, the golden collar he wore clinking.

"You have been my student for your entire life. I've taught you everything you know." He paused. "Don't die, or I'll kill you." He turned away from me. His strong back was tense.

I stood, a small smile on my lips. My extravagant headdress tinkled as I moved, the jewels shining in the hot Egyptian sun that streamed in from outside. The gold seemed to weigh me down more than usual. I touched Tor's muscled arm slightly. "Thank you," I said quietly. I turned away from him and took a deep breath. I stepped towards the door and took hold of the cool handle.

"Tahira," Tor said. I froze and slowly turned. When I saw his face, his gentle eyes surprised me. Where they were usually sharp and unforgiving, I saw what almost seemed like fondness. "Good luck."

I smirked, "You know I would never disappoint Queen Nefertiti."

Ebony

"Ah, coffee. Sometimes I stop and ask myself what my life would be like without it," I said, sighing lengthily.

"Do you talk to yourself often?" I jumped, spilling my energy-filled ambrosia all over the counter. I hastily yanked napkins from the dispenser and coated the counter top with them. The source of my problems—not my coffee, the guy!—helped me. Once I was sure my papers weren't in any imminent danger, I turned to look at my company.

He had wavy blond hair, clearly styled to look a bit messy, that fell over his forehead. He had piercing, ice-blue eyes. He was pretty much a model, to be honest. Is it bad that I forgave him for causing me to spill my coffee as soon as I saw his face? Yeah. Yeah, it probably was. Anyways, he was pretty much the opposite of me, with my dark black, straight hair, matching black eyes, and exotic, light brown skin.

He smiled at me and held out his hand, "I'm Tucker." English accent. Ok. Who is this guy, and why is he so perfect? I took his hand. "I'm your colleague." Well, that answers that question.

I nodded, shaking his hand slightly, "I'm Ebony." My hand slipped from his as he stared at me for a moment. I blinked, a little uncomfortable. "Um?" I asked.

He suddenly jerked back to life, holding up his hand, "I'm sorry, you're just really beautiful." Ooooooook. So, that happened. I swear, when I tell El about this, she will never believe me. I mean, model-hot, English accent.

I probably blushed a little. "Are you just trying to make up for my spilled coffee?" I asked. I glanced at the sopping wet napkins strewn about.

He shrugged, "I was just being honest, but that works, too."

I smiled, "You're forgiven." I grabbed the rest of the napkins and tossed them in the trash. I scooped up my papers. "Sorry, but I've got to get going. I have all these contracts to sign, though I don't know what any of them say."

I stared to walk around him when Tucker spoke up, "I suggest reading them…just so you know what you're getting into."

I paused and looked at him, raising an eyebrow. He just smiled and winked, "Welcome to Abstergo, Bennie." Something told me this guy was going to be a bit of a handful.

I left him in my dust and plopped down at the desk Anise had shown me to. It was all mine, and pretty nice. I couldn't believe I'd scored a job at Abstergo. It was awesome. Just a week ago I'd been freaking out over the Kenway project, marveling at how epic it all was. That was in France, though. This was LA, yet another major Abstergo HQ. It all felt like a dream.

I spun around once on my wonderfully comfy chair and then turned my attention to the contracts. The first line I scanned, on the very first contract, read as follows:

Abstergo is not liable for any and all mental or physical side affects caused by overuse or misuse of the Animus.

Overuse? Misuse? Mental and physical side affects? That didn't sound so good. No wonder Tucker had told me to read them and not just sign my life away. That was when my doubts first started…

I didn't know it at the time, but somewhere deeply hidden inside my mind was the inkling that, maybe, I shouldn't have taken the job offer.

Tahira

I didn't take pride in any of it. I sat high above them on my—on her—golden throne. It shouldn't have been there, but I was. It was my responsibility. My duty. I didn't want it, though.

"Would you like another olive, My Queen?" I looked down at one of the slaves—he was gorgeous, of course, just as Nefertiti required—and frowned. He was spotless, muscular…there wasn't a flaw on his person.

"I am fine. You are relieved of your duties here," I said, imitating Nefertiti's voice exactly. Being trained as her facsimile, I'd perfected the reproduction of her every move.

"My Queen," Rahtep, Nefertiti's advisor, whispered in my ear. He was one of the few people allowed to know of my mission. "Do watch yourself. If you do not do your job, we will no longer have a use for you," he hissed. The guards stationed around me didn't hear him; he'd made sure of that. I forced my face to remain neutral. I'd never liked Nefertiti's vainness, nor her constant desire to surround herself with beautiful men. Still, I knew that my life depended on this job, and so I continued my regal impersonation.

"My mission is to protect our Queen. I would not allow myself to fail such an important task," I whispered back. Rahtep seemed satisfied and straightened again, crossing his arms over his chest. I stared forward, the extravagant beads that hung off of my dress swayed back and forth as our large boat rocked on the river's waves. I'd been assigned—more like forced—by Nefertiti herself to act as her double; I'd received similar missions before due to the fact that I looked almost exactly the same as her. I was sent in her place if her destination was considered relatively dangerous. If anyone died, it would be me and not her. She would be safe. I'd always secretly thought that she hated how I was just as beautiful as she was, and so she sent me to die in her place to rid the world of me…but that was just a distant suspicion, (not to mention blatant disrespect of the Queen that I dared not show).

"Be on guard!" Rahtep shouted to the men. He turned to me and put a hand on my throne, "The straits, my Queen. Danger, if anywhere, will be found here." I nodded subtly. Strangely enough, I found some thrill in my missions. I'd only once been forced to engage in battle, as I'd be trained to do by Tor, and it was against petty robbers. Part of me longed to be able to take advantage of my acquired talents. No warrior, however, lives without the fear of death.

The boat drifted silently along the river. It was strange how quiet it was. We were away from nearby towns, so it did make sense that there weren't people shouting as they went about their daily lives. The peculiar thing was that there wasn't any indication of waterfowl at all. That was my first warning. The second was that the papyrus that grew along the edge of the Nile was peculiarly uneven. I narrowed my eyes and watched silently.

"Rahtep," I said calmly, "Do you sense anything?"

"No, my Queen. All is well," he replied. I didn't trust that. My skin prickled.

I remained quiet, watching and waiting. I slowly rose from my throne, leaning forward. We drifted closer to the banks with every second that passed. A few moments later, the banks erupted into motion. The papyrus and riverweeds, once motionless, now collapsed beneath the feet of the men that burst from their cover. Shouts rang out along the riverside. My men reacted instantly, Rahtep grabbing my arm and yelling so that I could hear him, "Below deck!"

He pulled me away from the men that were leaping onto my ship. I watched them as they twisted and whirled through my soldiers, quickly and seemingly effortlessly eliminating them one by one. It looked almost like a dance, one that I found myself longing to join. I was mesmerized as my men's bodies fell to the deck. Rahtep yanked me away from the violence and glared at me, his eyes wild, "Below deck!" I scowled. It wasn't like his repeating the command made me want to obey him any more. Still, I followed his orders. Though I was acting as his queen, I was not Nefertiti…and Rahtep had more power than I did.

One of the remaining guards pried open the trap door that led to the limited area below the deck, where the slaves rowed. I swung myself through the opening, ripping off my headdress and rushing to the far side of the boat. Rahtep followed behind me, positioning himself in front of me, "Make this look real. I don't care about your life, but our enemies must think the Queen is dead. It will give her time to counter this."

I didn't question what he'd said; the adrenaline had overpowered my brain. The rest of the guards—only the four who had been positioned beside my throne—dropped down behind us. The last one yanked the door shut. I knew, however, that the men…whoever they were…had already seen us. They knew we—I—was on the ship, and they were coming for me. The hope that we would remain concealed was a vain one. I backed up as far as I could and faced the wall. I knew how to kill, but I was not yet used to seeing death…I knew what was coming and I didn't want that memory burned into my mind. The upper deck had been enough. My heart pounded. My palms sweated. I fought to keep my breath slow.

"Be read-" one of the guards began. He didn't have time to finish before I heard a sickening crunch and the thud of what I presumed was his body hitting the ground. The sound of a battle followed as my guards charged forward. I didn't dare turn around. It was only a few seconds before all noise ceased. The slaves that lined either side of the ship were silent, most likely for fear of their lives.

"Only a fool would attack the Queen of Egypt," Rahtep spat. I slowly turned and saw the four dead bodies of my guards sprawled out on the ground. Rahtep stood protectively in front of me, his hand on his blade. Three men stood before us. I stared at them. They were wearing rugged, dirtied clothes, adorned with many types of weapons. I couldn't see their faces; hoods hid their identities. The two on either side hung back, but the man who stood in the middle stepped forward.

"Only a fool would raise his blade against me," he said, his voice calm and steady. I looked down to see that Rahtep had begun to draw his sword.

"What makes you think you won't die for this?" Rahtep asked smugly.

"I would gladly die for my cause," he said, "But not until my work is done."

"You work? Tell me, Assassin," Rahtep growled, "What exactly is your work?" Assassin? Did that mean they were here to kill me? I'd had my suspicions, but my heart dropped when I heard the word.

The assassin was silent for a moment, then he spoke, "You truly wish to know?"

Rahtep's eyes narrowed, "Do you truly wish to be an enemy to the Queen?" I clenched my fists. Whoever these men were, they were definitely dangerous and definitely not going to spare anyone.

The assassin sighed, "I am already an enemy to the Queen." I watched as, without hesitation, the assassin's arm shot forward and collided with Rahtep's chest. I was confused as to why Rahtep's face paled until I noticed that there was a blade attached to the man's arm. Blood leaked down Rahtep's front. My eyes went wide and I turned around quickly. I had to prepare myself.

I heard Rahtep cough, and when he spoke his voice was raspy, "Then you are doomed."

The silence that followed was deafening and suffocating. I wasn't going to miss Rahtep, but I still felt my heart twist. The silence was broken by the assassin's footsteps. I slowly drew the knife that was hidden at my hip. I felt warmth up and down my back as the man came to stand directly behind me. My skin tingled. "I won't lie. I fear death," I said, finding my courage. I was strong, and I knew that. Tor had taught me that.

"That's very honest," he whispered. I felt his breath on my neck and I shivered.

"A woman should die with honor if she must die at all," I said. I tightened my grip on my knife. It was my lifeline. My hope.

"I have no intention of killing you, Nefertiti. Not yet," he said.

"I doubt your words," I hissed. He chuckled and it angered me more. "And I said 'if.'"

"And?" he asked, amusement in his voice.

"And I have no intention of dying here," I said. Without giving him a second to react, I spun around and brought the knife down on him. He blocked my arm with his. I was caught off guard by his reflexes. I pushed down as hard as I could, but he was stronger than me and the knife was only getting farther away from him. I had one choice. I dropped the knife and caught it with my other hand. He leapt backwards just before I managed to stab him.

The two men behind my target started forward, but he held up his hand. "Don't worry. She's just a woman," he said. I growled and launched at him.

"Don't look down on me…" I said in between attacks. I lunged at him from his left, but he parried me and pushed me back. He didn't even allow me the dignity of injury, merely pushing me away each time as if I weren't worth a punch. "…Because I'm a woman!" I shouted. I quickly swiped my blade forward and, to his surprise, a thin line of blood dripped down his cheek. He slowly reached up and touched his cheek. He stared at his fingers when they came away with blood.

He looked up at me and stepped closer, quickly grabbing the knife out of my hand in one fluid motion. I stood tall, my muscles tensed for action. "Go ahead, snap my neck. It doesn't matter either way. You won't get what you want from me," I said.

As he got closer to me, I noticed that most of his face was covered with a black cloth. I could still see his eyes, though. They were so dark that they seemed black. They were narrow and seemed to hint at untold mysteries. I could see his subtle annoyance and anger at my being able to cut him reflected there. "You've been trained," he said. He tossed the knife aside and it clattered to the ground, "Not well, but there is some semblance of skill within you."

"I would commit suicide before I let you kill me," I growled. His eyes sparkled with amusement. "I know that Anubis will not give my soul to Ammit. I cannot say the same for yours."

The man placed his hand on my cheek and I glared at him. I noticed how gently he touched me…it was as if he hadn't just engaged in battle with me. Somehow that only angered me further. "Who said anything about killing?" he asked. His thumb stroked my cheek, and, for a moment, something softened within me. That hope, if I can call it that, suddenly vanished when I felt a sharp pain in my temple. I blacked out.