October 7th, 1876. London, England.

Edmund followed Axel through the streets of London until they reached the River Thames. They walked along the sidewalk to the Palace of Westminster. When they were standing opposite the clock tower, Axel turned to Edmund. Although it was still dark, Edmund could see a smile playing on his uncle's face.

"There is a way to enter on the face of one of the sides of the clock tower. If I am correct, you should be able to find it. Your father had informed me about your certain...abilities," Axel said with a curious look on his face.

"Very well," Edmund said. He closed his eyes and gathered his senses. He opened his eyes, seeing everything in a darker light, his uncle appearing pale blue. He circled the base of the tower, searching for anything that might look like a door or a keyhole. After a minute, he found something glowing in a golden light. Upon closer examination of the object, he noticed it was a symbol, similar to the one on the back of his pocket watch, and in the middle of it was a small circle with a horizontal slot. "I believe I have found it, uncle. It looks as though it requires a key of some sort."

"Not a key, my boy. A blade," Axel replied, raising his right forearm so that Edmund could see. Axel gave his wrist an ever so slight flick, and a thin blade appeared from underneath the sleeve of his coat. As Edmund saw the blade, his thoughts flashed back twelve years ago to the night his parents died. He remembered his father with his two blades, killing the two men who had attacked him before taking out the third as well.

Axel stepped forward and inserted the blade into the slot, giving the circle a quarter turn. There was a faint click, followed by the symbol moved raised outward. Axel pushed his fist against the middle of the symbol so that it returned to its original position. Edmund noticed that the reset of the lock had caused an outline of a door to appear. Axel then removed the blade from the slot and place his palm over the center of the symbol. He pushed the door and it swung slowly open. Edmund stared in awe as his uncle began to enter.

"Well, don't just stand there, lad. Come along," Axel instructed.

Edmund followed him through the door and into the clock tower. Once inside, they ascended a wooden staircase to the top. Here, there was a large open room, lit only by the moonlight shining through the clock's face and the window spaces. On the wall to the left of the clock's face were a wide variety of weapon racks: one for flintlocks and revolvers, one for daggers and tomahawks, and one for swords and axes, as well as an open wall-mounted box that appeared to contain shells for bombs. To the right was a bookcase filled with a wide variety of novels and encyclopaedias, as well as a large wardrobe. Opposite the clock face was a large map of the city of London along with all of its boroughs and districts. Edmund noticed there were numerous symbols of the Order placed around the map. Other secret hideouts, perhaps? He mused. In front of the clock face was a large mahogany desk. On it sat a smaller version of the map, along with a quill, an ink jar, and some loose bullets; behind it sat a man clad in the same dark grey hooded jacket as Axel. A slim figure in a light grey hooded jacket stood behind him, cowl up, looking out at the city through the clock face.

"Good evening, Mentor," Axel addressed the man.

The man appeared to be in his 40s, like Axel, though he may have been a little older. His features, however, were different. Axel looked very similar to Edmund's father, Elliot: he had medium length black hair, casually pushed back from his face, and was clean shaven; he was tall and broad-shouldered, yet he looked as though he was more agile than most theatre performers; he had the same hazel eyes and reassuring smile; almost a spitting image.

The man behind the desk had shorter brown hair that was more well-groomed and a trimmed beard. His eyes were a chocolate brown and held a look of seriousness and lightheartedness. When he stood, he was slightly taller and broader than Axel was, and when he moved, Edmund couldn't help but think that if Axel was agile, then this man was graceful. When the man spoke, he was well spoken, with a light yet clear voice.

"Good evening, Axel," the man greeted Axel with a friendly smile. "I see your evening endeavours have brought company." He turned his attention to Edmund, who stood silently beside his uncle. "Might I ask you your name, young man?"

"Edmund, sir. Edmund Elliot Jameson," Edmund answered, slightly nervous.

"Ah, named after your father, I see. He was a good man, Edmund Jameson. I am sorry for your loss. My condolences," the man said. He bowed his head, as if to pay his respects to Edmund's father. "Allow me to introduce myself, Edmund. My name is Raoul Akylas Foxx, Mentor of the English Assassin Brotherhood."

"I beg your pardon, sir, but did you say 'assassin'?" Edmund inquired with baffled stare.

"Indeed I did," Raoul replied with a smile. "Forgive me if I am mistaken, but based on your appearance here, I believe you are interested in becoming one?"

"No, sir, you are not mistaken. I wish to join so that I may kill the man responsible for my parents' death."

At this, Raoul narrowed his eyes, his voice becoming stern as he walked out from behind his desk. "I understand your desire for revenge, Edmund. But if that is your sole reason for coming here, then I am afraid you have a hard lesson to learn. To be part of the Assassin Brotherhood means one must be able to look past his or her own needs and desires to aid others, to save and protect them from the control of the Templars. They are the ones responsible for the death of your parents. They are also behind many of the bad things that happen in our society and the world. You will require patience in finding those responsible, for it will not be easy to find them, and it will require you to put the needs of others before your own to aid you in gathering information. You may believe what I say to be rubbish, and you may believe that you will join only for your revenge, but I promise you, your mind will change whether you will it to or not. Even the great Ezio became an Assassin out of revenge, but he was able to open his eyes and see why the control and malevolence of the Templars must be stopped. So I will ask you, Edmund, are you capable of doing so? Can you allow yourself to put the needs of others before your own and stop the Templars from achieving their goals? Can you embrace our ideals and follow our creed?" Raoul stopped in front of Edmund, his arms up in question.

Edmund looked Raoul in the eyes. He knew he needed his revenge. But he also knew he had to help others in need. His mother and father had always taught him the importance in helping others. "I can do that, sir. I will not let you down."

Raoul crossed his arms and gave Edmund a half smile. "That remains to be seen." He looked towards the bookcase and held out his arm in its direction. "If you wish to be an Assassin, you must learn about those before you."

"If I may, sir, you said that the Templars are responsible for the bad things in our society and the world. How are we to manage that, if there are so few of us here?" Edmund asked.

At this, Raoul gave a lighthearted laugh. "We are not the only Assassins in the world, young man. We are but one branch of an entire tree. The Assassin Brotherhood has been trying to stop the Templars for over two millennia. There have been many branches around the world, such as in Italy, France, China, Japan, Egypt, even in the west in places like Cuba and the Americas. Many Assassins have aided in revolutions, such as Connor Kenway in America and Arno Dorian in France, and have even taken down very powerful and very influential Templars, such as Ezio Auditore and the Borgias."

Raoul made his way to his desk and pulled a small chest from underneath. From it, he pulled out what appeared to be a black wrist bracer. "You will be needing this," the Mentor said as he offered the bracer to Edmund. Edmund put the bracer on his right wrist, fastening the straps. "This is the weapon of the Assassins: the Hidden Blade. You will have time to learn how to use it while you train."

Raoul turned to the figure standing by the clock face, who was now facing the others. "Darling, would you be so kind as be Mister Jameson's trainer for the coming months?"

"Yes, father. Of course," the girl replied as she put her cowl down. Wavy brown hair flowed to her shoulders, her blue eyes bright in the light of the rising sun, a playful smile dancing across her lips on her young face. A face that Edmund had known for most of his life. The face of Jesse Warlow. "We will start this morning."

Edmund looked at her in disbelief. Jesse? An Assassin? How long has she been a part of the Brotherhood? How had he not known about her? Jesse approached Edmund, taking him by the arm and leading him down the stairs. Once he was sure that they were far enough out of earshot from Axel and Raoul, Edmund stopped and looked at Jesse.

"So, you are an Assassin? And the Mentor, Raoul Foxx, is your father?" Edmund inquired, his face still showing his disbelief.

"He is my adoptive father," Jesse explained. "It was soon after I met you, Edmund. A few days after the night we met. He found me in the streets and offered to take me in, to teach me how to better my chances of surviving in the streets. Then, once I became of age, he taught me of the Assassins and the Templars, taught me how to climb and blend, and he taught me how to kill. Raoul and the Assassins are the only family I have known for quite some time."

Jesse continued on with Edmund close behind her. Together, they exited through the secret door by which Edmund and Axel had entered. The sun had begun to rise, casting a feint light on the shadows of the previous night. Jesse turned to her new trainee, a playful smile on her face. "I hope you are ready, Edmund. Today is the day you begin your training; and I do not plan to be easy on you."

Edmund smiled back, a sense of happiness coming over him. This should be rather interesting, he thought to himself. "I would rather hope you wouldn't. But then again, I have always been faster than you."

Jesse laughed before turning around and beckoning him to follow. "You will need a lot more than speed for this training, Edmund." She stopped, looking back over her shoulder. "And just so you know, I was holding back," she said with a wink. Then, they walked on into the streets.