Hey'o! This is mah first Assassins Creed story and I only wrote this because I haven't seen a story like this and I think the idea is... interesting. Well let me know what you think and I'll say hi when the next chapter comes out :)

DISCLAIMER: Me no own Assassins Creed, I only think that the characters are HAWT! :D

BOOM. The small wooden door shook on its hinges. I trembled in fear, knowing what would follow after the door banged.

"Open up you little brat!" The noise of the door was nothing compared to his voice. It sounded like thunder and lightning all mixed together in one, and then add in the most powerful storm that you can think of. That is what his voice sounds like. I shook silently, not letting the tears completely flow over.

"I said OPEN UP!" His voice boomed again. I whimpered quietly. What have I done this time?

"P-please just go a-away," I whispered my voice was nothing compared to his booming one. The door shook again; it was going to give away any minute now. One last bang sent the door flying off its hinges. An unexpected scream tore from my lips as his shadow loomed over me. His was a tanned face filled with wrinkles and there were frown lines around his incredibly thin lips. His nose was long and pointed and his cold grey eyes were drawn together, creating ugly delves in his forehead. He stalked towards me and stood sneering down at me. I stared up at him with wide eyes, feeling very afraid. He picked me up by the scuff of my neck and pinned me against a wall. I looked into his eyes and prepared to be beaten, again, by my father.

A FEW YEARS LATER.

I was in my home, perfectly safe. Or at least that's what I thought. I sat next to my father, and I was beginning to notice his twitchy movements and awareness to every sound.

"What is wrong with you?" I asked him. He answered with a glare and said.

"Be quiet child," I sighed and left to go to my room. I slowly wandered down the half lit corridor, wondering what I was planning to do in my room. Then I heard a noise that made my blood run cold, my father just screamed. Literally screamed like he was being tortured. I ran back down the hallway, only to find my father on the floor and a man in white towering over him. He was dressed like the scholars that you see wandering round. But this man was no scholar, despite the fact that he had numerous weapons on his body, there was differences in the outfit that you wouldn't find on a scholar. He had a white hood on that basically covered his face and all you could see was the bottom half of the man's face. His lips were not incredibly full, but not insanely thin. Over them he had a small scar, that only made him look more dangerous, but handsome at the same time. He was of a lean build and he seemed that he would be quite tall if he stood up. There was no doubt in my mind that he was an Assassin. My mouth gaped open in horror, and I saw blood seeping out of a wound in my father's throat. It was staining the floor a dark crimson colour. The Assassin bent down and wiped a pure white feather in the blood coming from my father. He glanced at me and I saw very bright hazel eyes, almost bordering on a golden colour. He looked at me, confused, as if he didn't know what to do with me. I was very aware of the steel knife pressing against me leg. I carried it around with me at all times, just for safety. Would I have to use it now? I really hope not. He stood up quickly and fled the scene, leaping gracefully out of the window. But he had made one vital mistake. My father was still alive. I rushed towards him and knelt by his side. He coughed violently, making more blood seep out of his wound in the process. I didn't try and stop the bleeding, I knew he was a dead man.

"C-ch-child," He choked. I looked him in the eyes and nodded. "T-take this," He reached a shaking hand into his robes and pulled and sliver pendant from inside it. I took it in my hands gently and observed it. It was quite a large silver cross with flicked ends, and in the very centre it held a ruby. I turned it over to see an engraving on the back saying 'Not to us God, Not to us, but to Your Name Give Glory,'. I slipped it on over my head and asked.

"Why?" His face creased into a grimace, obviously trying to smile. He coughed once more before looking me straight in the eye.

"You're a Templar now child, s-seek o-out your u-uncle," His eyes then glazed over and he stared into space. My father just died. He died right in front of me. And I didn't care. I glanced down at the beauty of a necklace that hung limply around my neck.

I'm a Templar.

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