"Connor! Connor!" Norris shouted while running towards his friend. A whole month had passed since his hooded companion had departed for one of his missions, and now he had just come back.

As the dark-skinned man turned, Norris noticed another person standing beside him, one he feared: Connor's father. He couldn't really understand how come Connor decided to let him live.

"Norris! What a pleasure to meet you!" Connor exclaimed, parting his lips slightly in an awkward smile. His father kept walking, completely ignoring the two of them.

"Connor! We are organizing a-dance-party... in your honour!" he exclaimed.

"A dance party? Amazing, what those friends of yours provide you to thank you for your services, Connor. And I expect you will join, wearing your best suit?" said Haytham calmly.

"Father!"

"There will be a dance competition as well!" exclaimed Norris, ignoring him.

"Thank you, Norris, but I am a very busy man-"

"Nonsense! There will be no fun if you won't join! Please say yes!"

"But-"

"Please!" Norris kneeled by him and closed his eyes, "Myriam wants to go so badly!"

"... all right, but just for a little while".

"Yay!" he screamed, then got up and run away.

"Well done, son. May I ask you in which robes you will attend? Your Assassin ones? Or will you apt for a suit like mine, but more elegant, of course? Oh, I forgot" he said lastly, "I haven't asked you if you'd prefer a dress instead."

"Father!"

"What? It was simple questioning"

"Maybe you are envious because you haven't been invited"

"Oh, no, nothing like that. You know, probably this whole thing has been programmed by one of your miserable friend in the hope of making ends meet"

"I don't allow you to speak ill of them!"

"You cannot deny. So, are you joining in the dance competition?"
"Shut up!"

"Connor has been invited to a dance competition!" Haytham announced as soon as they got home.

"Mh"

"Come on, Old man! Be optimistic!"

"... there is nothing to be optimistic about. It is just a terrible waste of time"

"I think he should go. Find himself a pretty woman and get married"

"A woman would only serve as distraction"

Haytham looked at the former Assassin Mentor with sceptic eyes.

"He has to carry on the Kenway line. Of course he will find a woman and have children. It is not your stock that we are talking about. That one is already gone, isn't it?"

For a long second, silence fell in the room. Then, an angry scream broke it.

"You miserable son of a -!" the elder man blurted before covering the distance between them in a few steps and punching his enemy straight in the face.

"You idiot! Not my fault if you were too ugly to find any woman!"

Since his return home, Haytham and his mortal enemy were particularly irascible and any excuse seemed good to pick up a fight. That day was no exception, but Haytham had the impression that his aggressor was acting with particular anger today.

The quarrel went on for a while, until Connor came back from the well and found both men with a bleeding nose.

"Enough!" he screamed. "You are just like children. What is it this time? Another broken glass? Some of you cheated while playing cards?"

"It seems like your father here is over-enjoying the fact that my... "stock" will not be carried on" The former Assassin said, and looking in his eyes Ratonhnhaké:ton found a mixture of anger, sadness and defeat that he had rarely seen in his mentor's eyes and that scared him deeply.

"What? Are you insane?" he yelled at his father as soon as the two were left alone in the room.

"He was the one to punch me. I do not fight old people" Haytham laughed.

"What did you tell him?"

"Does it have any importance now?"

"Yes, it does!" he exclaimed as his strong arms pushed his father against the kitchen wall and blocked him with under his jaw.

"Look at me, boy! He was the one to call for the fight!"

Connor had to admit, Achilles was getting older, but his blows seemed as fatal as his own. Haytham's nose was bleeding heavily and his cheek was scratched and bruised. Some blood had been split on the floor.

"I am not stupid, son. I suppose what was just a joke in the end somehow wounded him". His voice was softer now, almost comprehensive.

"It... you cannot know"

"No. It must be harsh to have no-one there. Before... before knowing about you, I got quite susceptible at people asking me why I didn't have a family. I just... I didn't think it could get so personal, that's all".

Connor lowered his gaze.

"Is there more? Connor?"

"Achilles lost his family. I... I would appreciate if you would not talk about this with him".

Haytham sat in his room, alone. There were bandages covering his face. He didn't want to admit it, but he was hurt. One of the punches directed to his stomach had almost made him vomit. Deep inside, he could understand what the man's struggle. He dealt with it too. He knew how difficult it could be at times.

"So". Haytham said awkwardly, walking in the living room.

"... " there was no answer. The former Templar Grandmaster saw dark hands working with needle and thread.

"What are you doing?"

"Mending trousers. From my wedding suit. Connor will wear it tonight"

"..."

"I could barely stand that day... and here it is a little tear in the fabric". He finally raised his eyes.

Haytham opened his mouth to say something, but in that moment Connor entered the room.

"I am ready to go". Then he headed towards the door.

"Connor!" Haytham yelled, "you are surely going to find a girl if you go out like this!"

"Is this a compliment, Father?" the boy asked, entering the room and showing himself.

"No, my dear: just self-boasting. I am sure you got that amazing harness from me, son".

Connor looked down at himself and he realized that he was naked from the girdle downwards, except from his shoes. He cupped his manly organ in his hand and hid behind the door.

"Not the first time that happens. Here, boy. Trousers. Now, don't be ashamed. All man here".

"Achilles! Is Connor ready?" called Myriam's voice from the window.

"Just a moment!" he called back, handling his pupil the piece of clothing.

Connor came back, this time wearing underwear.

"Those underwear..."

"Later... promise"

Haytham decided that now was time to speak his mind. "You look... elegant, son. Have fun"

"Aren't you coming?"

"No, this is your time. Go now, boy!"

"I appreciate it. What you do for him".

"..."

"I... I am sorry for today. I didn't-"

"So... you aren't going to enjoy yourself? Find yourself a nice girl half your age. I do think Connor fancies a girl".

"I could never... not after Ziio's death. After I knew what happened to her, I... I could never look at another woman again. Not even prostitutes. They are all worthless... worthless, compared to her..."

The air grew heavy. The silence hissed words of hate and timeless bitter. In a matter of minutes, Haytham lost the cognition of space and he found himself staring in the vacuum and swimming in an ancient sorrow.

He didn't notice that the man next to him left the room.

He didn't notice that he was absent for a little while.

He didn't even notice when he came back.

"So? Aren't you ready yet?"

"Mh?"

Haytham raised his eyes slowly.

"What...!?"

The Old Man was wearing a long black coat that covered his body entirely. On his head, a hat with a long brim, wrapped with a veil and with a sort of handkerchief on his face to hide his features.

"They said there was going to be a dance competition, right? Well? Teams are always stronger".

"What-"

"I have another outfit like this for you. Hurry up!"

The Inn was very crowded. People sat at the tables enjoying their ales and chatting. The atmosphere was relaxing and for a moment Haytham believed to be elsewhere.

"It is a masquerade! There is Connor".

"Shh! Be quiet!"

"Right, right Old Man! Do you remember the steps?"

"I do" he replied, clinging to the former Templar Grandmaster for support.

"Look at Connor! He is-"

"Shh! Here, they are calling!"

A man dressed up in a smart suit cleared his throat and the orchestra stopped playing.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Please welcome the- Hey, hey! You two! What are you doing?"

The two mysterious men wrapped up in those funny black clothes stepped in front of the crowd.

"Play something!" asked the taller one with a husky voice. And then the dance began.

"Quick! Run!" yelled Haytham, but his voice could scarcely be heard over the clapping that came from inside.

"Easy for you to say! You don't have this hurt knee!"

"Behind you!"

The former Assassin Mentor turned.

Connor.

Looking at him.

This gave him the push and he started running faster than he had in the last twenty-five years.

The dancers that had raised such enthusiasm and acclaim were now sprinting, hand in hand, towards the house on the hill. Once inside, Haytham shut the door closed and kneeled on the floor. He finally let out a chuckle and soon both he and his companion were rolling on the floor, sick with laughter. When they finally managed to take a good breath and unfasten their hats, they stood up and headed towards the kitchen for a glass of wine.

"I think I never had so much fun in... years"

"Do you think we won?"

"I don't know, Old Man, ... I really don't care, mate!"

"Let's go to sleep. It is past the bedtime for babies like you".