Disclaimer: I do not own ACIII. All rights belong to Ubisoft. (Except some characters I made up, but we'll get to that later)


Once, a couple years ago, Ella took all of us to an ice skating rink as a Christmas present. It was absolutely hilarious—ninety-nine percent of us didn't have a clue how to go more than five feet without faceplanting. I remember there was this one time where I thought I was finally getting the hang of things; I managed to shimmy my way off the wall, eventually drifting to the middle of the rink, but then my feet skidded and my balance toppled and I fell straight on my back.

The impact left me breathless, struggling to pull air in.

That's how I feel now.

The hunk of black tucked by his chest is there and then gone, so quick you'd almost think it didn't even exist. Like it was just a shadow. But by the adrenaline that's gushed into my bloodstream, the way my stomach goes cold like I just swallowed a block of ice, I know it's there. I'm not stupid. I know what a gun looks like.

Stay calm, I tell myself. Plenty of people have guns up here for protection. Bears, wolves, other things they might want to keep away. Heck, look in your own backpack, you idiot.

Yeah, but that's a different story. Entirely.

I don't allow myself to miss a beat. I go back to the egg shells and toss them in my garbage bag. Wipe my hands on my napkin. Grab my spatula. Look back at Charles. "—they let me go hiking for a while."

He's scratching Daisy's ears again, making the small giant pant with loud happiness. He's not even looking at me. A small smile is still painted on his face.

"That's pretty nice of your parents," he says to Daisy.

I try to swallow past the lump in my throat and nod. "Yeah, I'm glad they let me do it."

"You come here before?" Now he shifts his gaze over to me, curiosity brimming in those colorless eyes. I feel like he can see my chest jerking up and down as my heart clashes against my ribs.

"Yeah, it was one of my favorite spots growing up." Don't look at his jacket. Don't seem suddenly terrified. Look down and try and cook the eggs without burning them.

I see him nod out of the corner of my eye. "Don't blame you. It's pretty beautiful up here."

I jerk my chin up in a quick nod back at him, then continue focusing on the eggs. For a moment, we're both quiet, swallowed up by the sound of the leaves shivering. I tug at my jacket. The wind is shifting from silky cool to a icy bite, and I think about flipping my hood over my ears.

"So, why didn't your parents come out here with you?" Brown eyes flick up to meet colorless ones, and for the first time, I find myself hesitating.

I don't like where this is going. All these questions about me, it's too much. I want to ask him to leave, but as I'm wracking my brain, I can't figure out a nonchalant way to do that. Hey, you've got a really creepy moustache and weird eyes and all of these questions are making me uncomfortable, and I literally saw a gun beneath your jacket, so I know I offered you eggs, but could you please take your huge beast of a dog and depart my good sir?

Yes. Do that, Connor. I'm sure it would end well. Better yet, why not just scream stranger danger in his face, then take off running?

For all I know, he could just be a decent human being and acting friendly—heck, he's smiling enough—but the whole gun thing throws me off.

Protection, I attempt to convince myself. He's worried about the wild animals. It's not a huge deal.

But then there's that little alarm bell echoing in the back of my head. He's got a dog. German Shepard. Also not a big deal, because duh, plenty of people have dogs, but something isn't fitting right.

I don't ignore the alarm bell, but I don't tell Charles to get away either. I decide that the best thing to do is just act like a normal teenager for once (ha-ha), give him his eggs, then pack up. Just answer his questions, and soon enough you'll be on your way. "My mom absolutely hates camping, and my dad's off on a business trip."

For a second, I consider adding that my father works for GE (it's what Kane's dad did before he went all pro-basketball player on his son), but that seems like it would be too much information with the hesitation, ergo only adding to the obviousness of my lie.

Charles nods like he knows where I'm coming from. His lips part with the beginnings of words, but I smother them before they can form in the air. Enough about me. "What about you?" I ask lightly.

He stares at me for a moment, unsmiling, then allows himself to plaster another laugh between us. There's something different about this one compared to the others. It's heavier, stickier, like it was forced.

"My wife would rather be sleeping, and the kids wouldn't come out here if I offered them all the candy in the world." He shakes his head, chuckling. "Good thing I have Daisy here, otherwise it'd be just me."

Wife and kids. He's got a family. That should be an instant relaxer, it should make me trust him.

But it doesn't, because I know he's lying. And he knows I'm giving him crap, too.

Two strangers sitting over a very lame fire, both in the woods for reasons they're not telling, knowing but not acknowledging the fact that the first conversation they've had with each other was laced with anything but the truth.

I don't know exactly how he realized I'm bull-shitting him, but now, stuck in some kind of staring contest with him, I can't deny it. Maybe it was my hesitation. Or just the fact that I'm a young man who's taking a three day camping trip in the middle of a school week. But I see it in his face, the way his lips curl, the way his eyes shimmer with something arrogant and obvious, as if he were saying Nice try, kid, but I know what you're up to.

Strange enough, something makes me think that he lied just to show that he knows I'm being dishonest. Like he's patronizing me, and doing it in an obvious way that isn't obvious.

Cackling fire. Hissing eggs. Huffing dog. Silent liars.

Looks like his meal is done.

Casually, I scoop his eggs into another one of my metal mugs, poke a fork in it, then pass it over to him. He smiles again. Thanks.

"So why are you really out here, Connor?"

The words hover in the air for an unnaturally long moment, icy as the wind. They make my blood freeze and my breath hitch in my throat. The same dread that drenched me when I talked to Kane resurfaces.

He says them before he even got one bite of eggs in his mouth. Funnily enough, the first thought that skirts through the numbness is How rude.

Then my little alarm bell pipes up. Lie it squeaks at me. Lie lie lie lie keep lying and then leave.

But I can't. I want to tell someone. I want to tell Kane, but now, sitting here, with a stranger, it seems like venting to this man would make it so much easier because someone else would know and I wouldn't be alone and they wouldn't know. They wouldn't know my story, so how could it hurt?

It sounds so tempting. I want to.

But then again, telling someone I don't even trust, a ghost of someone who could be, it would be the coward's way.

I know that. I don't know how to explain it, but I do. I feel it in my heart, throbbing painfully in my bloodstream, and for the first time in a long time, it seems like I'm a child again.

Instead of answering, I don't look at him. Instead of crafting a sentence, I reach underneath the neckline of my shirt and tug out my pendant. Worried fingers skim over its surface, which is already worn from years of anxiety.

I could tell him. I could. But it wouldn't be right.

My lips split, and I turn back to the strange man without any color in his eyes, and I don't know what to say.

He does, though, because when I look back at him, he has four words that sound sharp and crisp, like they were planned out in front of a mirror for many, many hours.

"Give me the necklace."


Hey guys! So, it's been waaaaaaaay too long, and I apologize for that. I nearly was ripping out my hair for three weeks. And to make matters worse, this chapter's a little short, but I promise you, things are about to get serious, and I plan to organize my updating schedule in a much nicer way ;) If you reading this, I'd like to quickly fall on my knees and worship you for a second or two, and I'd also like to give a quick shout out to sithkittye! First comment, and I really appreciate it. Hope you guys liked it. I'll see you soon, I promise!

Stay cool like cool beans, yo.

-TWS