Chapter 9: Learning Pains
Shaun lay, staring up at the ceiling of the van, trying to will himself to sleep. He pulled his blanket tighter around himself. The cold had settled for the night- a glance to his watch revealed how late it was. 3:00am. The witching hour was upon them, and Shaun feared that if he wasn't asleep by then, he could say goodbye to getting any much needed shut-eye.
William sat in the front seat of the van, having just finished another round of keeping watch over their position. The forest around them was dark and secluded, yet it still provided no opportunities to keep themselves warm, other than thermal jackets, blankets, and their own body heat. A fire would be warm, but braving the elements outside of the shelter of their vehicle through the night would border on idiocy.
Connor sat up in the back of the van, alternating between his way of absent-mindedly picking at the calluses on his fingers, and looking to the others who slept around him. Shaun felt a pang of remorse; everyone crammed into the back of the van's floor was huddled up against someone else- and the longing look in Connor's eyes conveyed a loneliness that the man never let on. Altair and Malik, Ezio and Yusuf, Shaun and Desmond and Rebecca- in the cold and confusing world that the people around him had been thrust into, they each had someone who they trusted and could find solace in. Connor- had no one.
Connor rubbed a hand over his face, the electric lantern that was lit cast shadows on his face that seemed to beckon him to sleep- with each blink, his eyelids seemed to become the slightest bit heavier.
Shaun sat up, reaching for his glasses on the bench above him. He whispered:
"Connor, you might as well get some sleep, since it's eluding me." Connor's head snapped up, his deep gaze meeting Shaun's.
"I would never assume to take your sleeping time."
"I appreciate that, but I'm not sleeping, and you're falling to it, get over here. I'm sure the others would appreciate the warmth." The man was near enough to a human space heater, and Shaun couldn't figure out for the life of him why he himself was so cold all of the time, and Connor was warm and content no matter where they were.
After a few moments of silent, inner debate, Connor finally nodded, quietly situating himself to take Shaun's place on the floor. Shaun took over the spot on the bench Connor had previously occupied, still trying to wrap his blanket even closer around him.
"Thank you, Shaun," Connor whispered. He settled in beside Rebecca; the latter unconsciously moved closer to the warmth.
"Don't mention it, mate. Just make the most of it." Shaun smirked, finally getting his blanket tight enough around himself that he could feel his toes. He quickly glanced around the van- William's eyes stayed fixed on the front and their rearview mirrors; the others were sound asleep, or at least pretending to be. Shaun was thankful for it- he was sure Rebecca or Yusuf would comment on how he looked more like a burrito than an Assassin.
Shaun sighed, leaning his head against the boxes of equipment they had stacked against the wall. He wasn't sure exactly how they were pulling all of this off- usually when they thought they were off the radar, there was a catch and they were ambushed. He was utterly useless when their hideout had been attacked in New York; he was thrown by the wayside as a non-threatening nothing. Shaun hoped they would be able to train, and soon- undoubtedly Desmond, as well as Yusuf would need to build their strength up again; the others would need training in present-day combat as well. Hand-to-hand would probably be rather similar, it was the ever-prominent element of advanced ranged combat that would be the biggest concern.
He scoffed at himself. Thinking about combat- Shaun was about as much of a fighter as a garden gnome. He used to be a University Professor, for god's sake. Yet, he looked to Yusuf, who, even in sleep shifted to try to relieve the discomfort of his knee. It was his fault that Yusuf was hurt.
If Yusuf hadn't taken on that Templar, then Desmond would have been taken, or killed, or both. If he had been able to fight, Yusuf wouldn't have gotten hurt. He was saved by Yusuf, by Connor when they had been jumped in the alleyway on the way to their hideout, he was saved by Rebecca, only a few years ago; Shaun had begun to believe that he couldn't take care of himself if it ever came down to it. They all were on the path to war, and he needed to be able to do his part.
Fighting had always seemed optional- now, more than ever it was not. A historian-computer technician was nothing if he was dead, and they had enough to worry about without another injury on board.
Perhaps it was foolish to think that everyone could get out of such a situation unscathed.
Shaun sighed. Absently looking to the ceiling, he wondered what it was like to be just another person walking down the street. Eating, sleeping, trudging through day after day without any divine purpose- it was innocent, and something that unsettled him.
Ruefully, he mused that if the general populace had nothing extraordinary going on in their lives, it was no wonder that the world hadn't changed. Those Who Came Before overestimated our abilities.
No. Shaun berated himself for the thought. He'd seen with his own eyes what the human race was capable of. What Desmond had done, what millennia of thinkers and philosophers and scientists had accomplished- and yet, maybe Those Who Came Before underestimated humanity's capabilities. Perhaps the aimless drones of modern consumerism were just lost, and had yet to realize their purpose. Shaun had been the same, before Abstergo popped up and he just couldn't keep his nose out of their business.
His musings did little to calm his anxiety, yet he had to hold on to them as if his life depended on them. In their present situation- all of their lives did.
Such petty creatures Those Who Came Before had cultured, yet their strength knew no bounds. The children, after all were modeled after their predecessors. When the First Civilization had kept their creations as slaves, the Golden Age of their people were upon them. Life was as leisure, and their technology was advancing at faster speeds than even they could have predicted.
They were coming along so well in multiple facets of being- their devices could house enough energy to rebuild worlds, store endless data, utilize the divine web of their existence to do so much as to even raise the dead.
All of their progress was cut short, however when their slaves rebelled- Adam and Eve. How had They created such imperfections, such blemishes to their perfect world? Adam and Eve stole an Apple of Eden, and such was Those Who Came Before's wrath that they retaliated, moving mountains in their haste to regain their control. It was no small task- once a spark of rebellion ignites, it spreads uncontrollably to any and all who had even a shred of doubt in their minds.
The humans were bred to be intelligent- they had to have doubt in order to have certainty.
In Their anger and rage, they tampered with forces that even they had no control over. The sun's fire threatened to destroy their world, and in their preoccupation with their traitors, they lacked the technology to stop it. The slave had surpassed the master, and in their mad dash to reinstate their dominance, Those Who Came Before triggered the Great Catastrophe.
Because of this, they had little more they could do but plan for the End. They hid their soon to be artifacts, hidden and dispersed through time so that They could perhaps live again.
This was not good enough for Juno; the one who defected from the Trio who had been tasked with Earth's salvation wanted life from decimation. The others saw this, and rendered their Temples and artifacts non-functioning, so that only those worthy enough to utilize them would be able to. Because of Adam and Eve's fallacy, the Golden Age had fallen, and there would be struggle.
There would be a second Catastrophe- only then could the power be activated again. When He- the timeline formed him as Desmond Miles- was there to activate it. Plans were made, Juno schemed even with the world so close to ruin.
The Capitoline Triad was but one that had power. Yet another Precursor would watch them, observe them, keep their goals in line with what they sought. The Onlooker could see their plan, and see its flaws, how Desmond Miles would choose to save the world- and yet he would live from it. Juno would spread to nearly every corner of the world, and infiltrate the core with her own power to take it over, more effective than any others could.
The Onlooker had power over its lesser Triad, though could only exact it when the time was right. Due to the first Catastrophe, Precursor power was obsolete when put in the hands of mortals.
If, however mortals defied their own laws, by power of gift and will, Juno could be defeated.
Desmond woke with a start, eyes darting around him, taking his surroundings as he slowly came back to the waking world. He was dreaming-yet he couldn't remember anything. There was a trickle of dread that ran through him. He had faced and conquered the impossible, but the worst was yet to come.
"I still don't understand why we can't just stop by a hole-in-the-wall convenience store and get food. It would be faster, more efficient, and I don't know how to hunt." Shaun's hands were a blur as they outlined his exasperation. Dawn had crawled into the sky wholly unwelcome; the Assassins collectively groaned as they were woken by the sun's light streaming into the van and Rebecca prodding them softly to wake.
Desmond winced as he sat up, the pain in his arm magnified by the cold and lack of movement. He hissed at the sensation, before closing his eyes and leaning his head against the bench he sat against.
"You know, I'm regretting the whole 'preserve the sun and save the world thing'- maybe then I wouldn't have to be blinded every morning just to wake up." Rebecca smirked at Desmond's jest, helping him up to sit on top of the bench. She grabbed a package of medical supplies, and went about rebandaging Desmond's arm. He grit his teeth and tried to ignore the fire that enveloped his right arm, but even with a replenished dose of painkillers the pain still threatened to consume him.
Connor stepped out of the van after a disgruntled Shaun, who was still battling William with his idea of acquiring food. Connor inspected his bow and quiver of arrows, making sure everything was in place.
"Seriously, William. Hunting without a permit is a) illegal and b) very unwise when you throw me in the mix. We also have food, and more than enough supplies to get us to our rendezvous with Gavin. This is uneccessary."
"You had expressed your concern about not being able to fight- hunting seems to be a good first step. It teaches stealth, planning, and execution in an effective way. Besides, I don't trust anywhere that's well populated, or anyone besides our group, at the moment. Staying in the woods until we can reach the harbor we're meeting Gavin in is our best option of staying off the grid." William crossed his arms, an impassive look on his face. Shaun's shoulders slumped in defeat.
"I don't have a bow."
"Connor will teach you how to use one, as well as the essentials of hunting. Now go- I want to be moving again by this afternoon." Connor nodded at William's orders, turning and heading into the forest. Shaun let out a huff, before following, pulling his coat tighter around his shoulders. The sun had come out, but it did little to fight the Winter chill.
Shaun stumbled as tree roots and fallen branches littered their path. He could tell by Connor's carefully placed footsteps that he was unfamiliar with the forest, yet he was well versed in the inconsistencies that nature threw out them. Shaun lamented in his comfort with the city. It was regulated and sheltered, something that he could find solace in. Many people took comfort in the opposite, too worn out by the sounds of cars and machines and so many people- but it was where Shaun drew his strength. That, he could apply to the ability to fight. Stranded in the forest with little more than a researcher's knowledge of a region left him floundering.
Connor held out an arm to stop him, before crouching and surveying the ground at their feet.
"Many people have been through here."
"Great." Shaun threw his arms over his head. "I would love for us so much to become Wendigos, but unfortunately, I'm not in the mood for human flesh. Can't we pick berries, or something that doesn't involve live food?" Connor only responded with a furrow of his brow.
"Plants also live."
"I... That's not the point. If we're going to run into people, we should pick another place to hunt."
"These disturbances are both human and animal. Undoubtedly, hunters were in this area, looking for game." Connor looked around, before setting a direction for them to follow. "This way."
"Let's hope we don't get taken for wildlife," Shaun muttered.
"One look at you, and I can hardly imagine they would."
"Wha..." Shaun stuttered, slightly taken aback by the level of Connor's sarcasm. "You have a point." Connor smirked. They continued for a few minutes, before Connor stopped him again.
"Do you have any experience with archery?"
"A little, from when I was a schoolboy. They taught it in my gym class."
"They teach archery at schools?"
"As a sport, yes. It's performed at an Olympic level, as well."
"Olympic? As in the games in Greece?" Shaun pursed his lips.
"Sort of. Nowadays they take influence from the original Olympic games, with far more sports and far less revealed skin."
"Are they always held overseas?"
"Sometimes, it depends on the year. Are you going to tell me how to shoot arrows or what?" Shaun admired Connor's curiosity, yet they had to achieve something besides the betterment of knowledge. Connor only nodded, taking his bow from across his back.
"Do you know which eye is your dominant?"
"I know I have god-awful vision, so they're both pretty submissive." Connor sighed, offering a good-natured smile in consolation. "My right eye."
"Good. Now take hold of the center of the bow with your non-dominant hand, and wrap two of your fingers from your other hand around the string." Connor demonstrated, handing his bow to Shaun when he was done. Shaun hesitated.
"Are you sure? Your bow is important to you- I might break it."
"I trust you." In a sort of daze, Shaun took the bow, following Connor's instructions.
"Now, you take aim with your dominant eye, closing the other one, and fix on a spot." Connor came up behind Shaun, looking down his line of sight. He brought his arms to parallel Shaun's, guiding his movements. "Plant your feet- and pull the bowstring back. Feel its tension."
"Shouldn't we be doing this with arrows?"
"One step at a time, Shaun." Shaun complied, pulling the string back with only minor struggle.
"Release the string," Connor continued. Shaun let go, bracing himself for the force- the bowstring bounced off of his jacket sleeve, the motion startling him. He backed into Connor, before jumping back in the opposite direction.
"Sorry, mate. How'd I do?" Connor said nothing, only pulling an arrow out of his quiver.
"We will see." Training, my ass. William is set on torturing me.
"Are you sure it was a good plan to send Connor and Shaun out on their own? Connor's not familiar with the area, and Shaun's about as helpful as an earthworm when it comes to navigation in the forest," Rebecca voiced her concern. She had finished re-bandaging Desmond's arm, and had made sure he was comfortable before she joined William at his post in the front of the van.
"I trust Connor will use his inherent tracking skills to find them a way back to us." William sounded distant, as if the well-being of two of their group was the farthest thing from the forefront of his mind. Rebecca sighed. She knew she couldn't get the man to sleep, no matter how much he looked like he needed it.
"I sent Altair and Ezio to find firewood. If Shaun and Connor do manage to catch any food, we'll need a way to prepare it." William blinked, coming back to their conversation fully as Rebecca spoke.
"Good. How are the others?"
"Well enough- I couldn't manage to get Desmond to do anything other than let me change his bandages, he went straight to sleep after that." William glanced back, his gaze coming over Desmond's prone and sleeping form. William grit his teeth.
"He cracked a joke, this morning though, if that's any consolation," Rebecca assured. Desmond was healing, yet the process was slow and painful and made each of them realize each of the broken pieces the man had shattered into- each of the breaks in an exterior that was still putting itself together again. Rebecca digressed. They had to focus on moving at the moment. Gavin and his crew would be able to assist them in recovery.
"I'm going to do another patrol. Stay with these three." William shifted in his seat, opening the door before stepping into the open. The sun had steadily and sluggishly made its way into the sky in the breaking dawn; William breathed in the crisp winter air. The sun, as always seemed to mimic their very progress.
Malik allowed himself a sigh as seconds bled into minutes into what felt like hours. He admitted to himself that he was jealous of Altair and Ezio being sent to gather firewood for the group, leaving him to stew in his own thoughts- too much like so many endless days locked in his Bureau. The only distinguishing factor in his present situation was that he was surrounded by unfamiliar faces, and there was a particular bite to the air around him that he had only ever felt the semblance of in Masyaf's short snowy seasons.
He glanced to the man next to him- Yusuf. If there was anyone more discontent with their current position, it would be him. Additionally, the normal, jovial and carefree grin that normally formed Yusuf's face was replaced by an unmistakable scowl; it was a face that he'd seen far too many times with another, more familiar face.
"What troubles you, Yusuf?" Malik could largely tell what was bothering him already. The sentiment was important, however.
"I feel useless just sitting here. We were all stuck in the cabin, now others are going out and doing things, and I have to stay as the docile lamb for everyone to watch over."
"Are you more upset that you are incapable of moving freely, or that you have to be taken care of?" Yusuf met Malik's eyes. They were such a striking blue- the kind he had only seen in one other individual. Tazim. My son. Yusuf Tazim... the thought was fleeting as he made the connection between the two names.
No. It would be absurd to think that the man before him was of his bloodline. Malik banished the thought from his mind, the concept only lingering among the outskirts of his consciousness. He would consider it later. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't give the idea so much as a second thought, but their predicament was anything but normal, and in light of recent events, he supposed even the previously thought impossible could be the opposite.
Yusuf sighed, breaking eye contact for a moment.
"I would not take back the actions that led me here." Yusuf gestured to his knee, still tightly bound in the brace. "However, a Master Assassin must be able to move, and do so upon a moment's notice. I can do so little when I'm impaired so."
"Tell me about it." Malik gestured to what should have been his left arm. The sarcastic lift of his eyebrows gave away his intention.
"Ah, but one can still move about and fight with one arm- the second is merely there for improving efficiency. One cannot run and jump and dodge when one leg is taken from him."
Cease your complaining, your leg will heal, whereas my arm will never grow back. Malik, in their downtime had read about the regenerative properties that animals had- lizards growing back entire limbs after having them cut or torn from their bodies. Modern technologies had developed prosthetics that gave the illusion of having a missing limb. Unless one was prepared to sell their soul, the functioning ones were out of reach. Malik looked to Yusuf again, catching the man's eyes. Yusuf's widened in apology, recognizing Malik's discomfort.
"I am sorry, brother. I did not consider the permanence of your ailment as opposed to mine. I am just rather bored with all of this stagnation- in Istanbul, there was hardly a day that went by that I wasn't doing something. I wonder if it will come the time for battle again, and I won't be able to fight." Yusuf moved his hands as he spoke, speaking so frankly that it caught Malik off guard. Generally, people chose their words carefully, not wanting to stir any undesirable reaction out of the Dai. Yusuf just let his mouth speak his mind. There was such a sincerity in Yusuf's tone that Malik found himself growing fond of it. The cold hearts of burdened souls was what he normally dealt with, along with an almost constantly brooding Altair- hearing Yusuf speak lifted his heart when he thought of home, either present or past. Through deception and destruction, people with honest hearts could make things right.
Malik looked to Desmond. Undoubtedly the man was going through more- and had been through more than any of them could imagine. Malik's gaze softened, his onyx-dark eyes softening to a deep, dark chestnut. Yusuf saw the change, it brought a smile to his face.
Desmond, too was caught in this static nebula that they were in. Malik wasn't entirely sure what to think of the man- he seemed just as any other Assassin, any other man who fought for their cause. Even so, he'd been bestowed a great responsibility, one that Malik had no choice to believe Desmond could fulfill. Desmond too was sincere, sometimes as harshly as Altair could be- yet still, perhaps the fallen savior still heralded hope.
Malik returned his gaze to Yusuf.
"Do not apologize- I know the frustration of recovering. In the weeks I was recovering from this injury- Malik gestured to the stub of his left arm again- I could not wait to get back on my feet, after I'd accepted my fate."
"How did...?" Yusuf trailed off, hesitant to ask why a man born with two arms only had one. They had been with one another for a few weeks, Yusuf tentatively ventured into such a personal space.
"It was... an accident." It had taken years for Altair's blatant error to become merely a mistake.
"My brother, Kadar and I were faced up against the Templar grandmaster at the time, Robert de Sable. Altair had stormed their group as they came to take an Apple of Eden. We were outnumbered- Altair was thrown from the battle, leaving only Kadar and I.
"My arm was badly wounded in the fight- I recovered the Apple, and in my haste to return to Masyaf, it was damaged beyond repair. It was on the verge of infection, so they had to amputate it to save my life."
"It was Altair's fault you lost your arm?"
"He didn't put that in his Codex, did he?"
"I have only the stories Ezio uncovered about the Grandmaster, so I suppose not. Dela reveres the man, too- I'd be hard pressed to hear anything negative about him." Malik let out a huff of amusement. After so many years, though- Altair was brilliant, he certainly deserved at least some of the limelight he was given.
"What about your brother, Kadar?" Yusuf questioned, curiosity lighting his eyes.
"He was killed."
"I'm sorry to hear that, brother."
"It was a long time ago- the pain is not so raw as it was." Yusuf offered a reconciliatory nod, a moment of silence passing between the two, as if for Malik's lost kin.
"You fret, because you cannot move about as you like," Malik began, "however, you clearly have not heard stories of the disabled triumphing in battle."
"There were always people who were not able-bodied who managed to fight, I just don't know how."
"Do you think I knew when I was given a Bureau to run?"
"You mean a Den?"
"They are the same thing."
"Fair enough." Yusuf paused, considering Malik's question. "How did you learn? The Brotherhood back then was keen on only the most elite of warriors fighting for their cause."
"I taught myself. It was a long, painful process- still healing while pushing myself to regain what I had lost after so much time kept immobile."
"The sword was still your weapon of choice, I assume? With your name, I can only think it fits." Malik only nodded, before continuing.
"I started small, but ended up sparring with the novices who came through my Bureau on missions."
"Did you ever face any enemies, then?"
"After a while, when the Brotherhood had started to crumble under Al Mualim's compromise- more Templars made their way to our Bureau. I had more to fight off every day."
"And you did it, unaided?" Malik could sense Yusuf's excitement, welling underneath his words as boiling water in a pot. The excitement in the man's eyes reminded Malik of telling stories to Kadar, even into their adult years, neither one of them able to sleep. Malik nodded.
"It took a while to get used to the balance of a sword, with only one hand to wield it with and not another arm to defend yourself with. Once I had mastered that, I was able to fight without any problems."
"What did you do if there were more than one person to fight?"
"What any other Assassin would do. I fought. Once, I fought off three men who had learned of the Bureau's location from the pigeons that were sent from Masyaf. They had tried to ambush one of the Brothers who had made his stake in the city- I heard their struggle, snuck through an alley, and took on the attackers while the other Assassin ran for help." Yusuf smiled, thoroughly awed by Malik's story.
"For as much as I've seen you read-" the man had read anything he could have gotten his hands on since they arrived in this strange place and time- "I wouldn't have thought of you as such a deadly fighter." Malik chuckled.
"Neither did the Templars." Yusuf returned the chuckle in admiration. A friendly nudge with Yusuf's elbow denoted such.
It felt as though it had been hours- Shaun would aim and shoot an arrow, it'd go off its course, Connor would patiently retrieve it and tell him "try again." He eventually got the hang of it, being able to hit a part of an object he was aiming for.
Connor then taught him the basics of tracking, leading them to a place where a rabbit had tread, not a few minutes before them. He looked around for a few moments, before pointing to the fluffy creature in a distant bush.
"Use what I taught you- stealth, planning, and execution," Connor whispered, backing away from where he and Shaun had been crouched.
Shaun only nodded, his heart hammering in his chest. He went through the different steps Connor had taught him- he nocked the arrow, drew the bowstring, sighting the rabbit in front of him. It was so small, and so innocent; it was something Shaun would have kept as a pet as a child, not something that would be killed and used for food. He hesitated, lowering the bow after a moment of indecision. He turned to Connor.
"I can't do this."
"Yes, you can," Connor assured.
"You don't understand- I've never killed anything before, and that innocent little thing, doesn't deserve to die because I need to be trained in how to be an Assassin. Besides, I hear that rabbit meat is awful. Rabbit's feet don't even guarantee good luck so really, this is a fruitless endeavor."
"You have never killed?"
"No. I... it's a long story. When a computer tech is needed, there aren't any situations that generally rise that require said computer tech to be able to kill. It's never been necessary."
"But now, you feel that it is."
"Yeah. I mean, with Juno being released and the Templars being more powerful than ever, conversely with the Assassins being weaker than ever, I would say we need all the manpower we can get."
"I admire your dedication." Shaun sighed.
"Thank you, Connor." He faced the rabbit again, holding up the bow, and taking aim. He nervously bit his tongue, pulling the bowstring back and letting loose his arrow. Connor had probably promised William that they would come back with something.
"Nice work." Connor said- the arrow made contact with the back of the rabbit's head. A clean shot, and so utterly silent that Shaun wasn't sure if he preferred a noise or not. Guilt washed over him, despite Connor's praise.
The first thing he'd intentionally killed- and it was an innocent animal. The ancient tenet of their Creed ran through his head. Never harm an innocent. A pool of dread formed in his stomach. Killing people wasn't supposed to be easy, he'd figured that much- but if it were even harder than killing a small animal- insignificant, it should be- he'd have a rough time.
Shaun and Connor approached the animal. As they came closer, Shaun could see the spray of blood that now stained the rabbit's fur. Connor crouched beside the animal; looked away for a moment. When he turned around again, Connor was looking up at him expectantly.
"Now we must thank Nature for her gift to us and skin the animal." Shaun swallowed, nerves burning in his stomach. He knelt beside Connor, reaching for the arrow that protruded from the animal's neck.
Connor felt a sense of nostalgia, and with it melancholy- he was teaching Shaun as he taught Kanen'tó:kon when they were boys. Such carefree days were forgotten so easily, and the memory hurt as Connor recalled it- things had taken a turn for the worst so fast. One moment, Connor and Kanen'tó:kon were best friends set on protecting their people, and the next, they were doing the same thing, yet Kanen'tó:kon had a knife to his neck and Connor had no other choice but to defend himself.
Connor grimaced, yet the memory had long since turned to scar tissue, and he turned himself to the matter at hand. Shaun had pulled the arrow from the rabbit, and had started to speak to it, as Connor had bid.
"I'm sorry, mate," Shaun started, to which Connor immediately interrupted with:
"No, you do not have to apologize. This kill was a gift, and we must use it to its full extent. Give your thanks and respect, and your debt will be repaid."
"If only the rest of the world worked like that," Shaun mumbled.
"I understand," Connor offered. Shaun nodded in his understanding, turning again to the rabbit.
"Thank you, er... Rabbit." Connor straightened, beckoning Shaun to follow him.
"Wait, shouldn't we skin it?"
"We should go back to our camp- others have gone to find firewood, then we can cook it there." Shaun sighed, trying to ignore the fact that he was picking up a dead rabbit.
"You should do one of those survival shows, Connor. Like Bear Grylls or someone." Shaun matched stride with Connor as they returned to the van.
"Who?" Shaun sighed.
"I forgot. We still have a lot of catching up to do with you all." They continued through the forest, the trail back slightly easier than their trek out.
"Tell me about the rabbit's foot, you mentioned earlier," said Connor, still curious about the term.
So much catching up to do.
"It sure took you guys long enough." Rebecca hopped out of the van's driver side door, greeting their returning assassins. Shaun and Connor broke through the trees about the time that Altair and Ezio did, the two groups already looking worn from the forests.
"Mio Dio, I have never journeyed through forests this thick before," Ezio piped, walking next to Altair with wood piled in his arms. "Nonetheless, Altair was keen on navigation, a job that I would venture to say is not his strong suit."
"I returned us to our caravan, did I not?" Malik and Yusuf had left the van, coming around the side. Malik offered a chuckle at Altair's expense, nudging Yusuf.
"He must be hard-pressed, to make such an insult." Yusuf laughed. William met them, coming from his patrol.
"Let's get a fire going. Shaun, did you manage to catch anything?" Shaun held up the rabbit.
"We might be stretched a little thin to share, but Connor taught me some valuable skills. I suppose that's what you were going for?"
"Nice work, Hastings. Who knew you had it in you?" Rebecca interjected. She patted him on the shoulder, walking past to help Ezio and Altair with the firewood.
"He is a good student," said Connor.
"Don't encourage him," Rebecca countered. Shaun managed a smirk. As she gathered some of the wood from Ezio and Altair's arms, she called to William:
"Hey, Bill. Don't you think it will draw attention to us if we light a fire in the middle of the day?" William ignored the told you so daggers that Shaun threw in his direction.
"I'm counting on the dense tree cover to be enough to catch the smoke- additionally, this part of the forest is nearly uninhabited, save for some stubborn campers this time of year. A fire shouldn't cause too much suspicion."
"Where are we, anyway?" Desmond had joined them, rubbing his eyes at the sun that had nearly reached its midday zenith.
"About four hours away from our rendezvous point with Gavin," Rebecca supplied. Desmond only nodded.
Altair, Ezio, and Rebecca built the fire, while Shaun followed more of Connor's instructions as to how to prepare fresh game. Rebecca heard parts of their conversation, including Shaun discussing modern day survivalist shows.
"All I'm saying, is that you'd love Man vs. Wild," Shaun said.
"I'm pretty sure he is the ultimate survivalist, Shaun." Rebecca motioned towards Connor. "He doesn't need to watch how to survive in the wilderness, because that's practically what he does, anyway. And besides, Survivorman is definitely a better show."
"Oh, really? Tell me one good reason why?"
"He actually survives in the wilderness, not just acts like it for the sake of good television?"
"That was an isolated incident, and Bear Grylls has climbed Everest, for christ's sake. Wasn't Survivorman canceled, too?"
"It made a brief comeback- and quality over quantity, Hastings."
"It would be interesting to see new and developed techniques for surviving in nature," Connor interjected, breaking up the two's argument.
"If I knew you two were such TV fans, I would have insisted on bringing a television with us." Sarcasm dripped from William's voice, the man's arms crossed and eyes conveying a rising impatience. They had four more hours of travel, and every minute they delayed gave their enemy one more of reconnaissance.
It was strange, being around a fire in broad daylight, yet the group of Assassins were content around it. Despite the sun, temperatures were still cold and the extra warmth was welcome. Desmond huddled further into his winter jacket. Altair seemed just as disgruntled, which prompted Malik to tease him with a spider that had been crawling near where he sat.
"Altair, I think you have something on your shoulder." Malik pointed to the bug he had just placed there. Altair turned his head, his eyes widening in fear as he saw the small creature, frantically batting it away and losing his balance on the fallen tree branch he sat on.
The ancestors couldn't help but chuckle at the disheveled Altair as he regained his seat. Shaun, Rebecca, and Desmond joined them after a few moments.
"Has Malik been taking lessons from you, Yusuf?" Ezio murmured to his friend sitting beside him.
"I believe, in that respect, Malik is the one to credit, Ezio. I have taught him nothing of my ways." Even yet, it did nothing to stop a smirk from growing on Yusuf's face.
William returned to the fireside, after yet another patrol around their area. Sit, eat, relax for a minute, Bill- the others had tried to persuade, to no avail. William was restless- he spent the night drinking shitty instant coffee, but nonetheless- after staying still for so long, it was torturous to be on the brink of action, even when they had no idea where they were going. When they reached Gavin, what would they do then?
"Let's get moving." The others fell silent, only nodding and looking for materials to douse the fire.
Once they had packed up the van again, they headed out. The short, winter days allowed the sun to set much earlier than it felt the day should stretch, yet by the time they started toward their rendezvous again, the sun was traveling toward the horizon. It would be dusk by the time they reached Gavin.
Desmond sighed in anticipation. The last time he'd seen Gavin was when he was a boy- a rebellious preteen at that time. At that point, every authority figure was someone to be either revered or ignored. He had respected Gavin, he functioned as the cool Uncle figure whenever Desmond could get away from the wrath of his father's disappointment. Gavin had told him sailor stories, of great mast ships and of pirates and sirens, their exploits inciting a sense of wonder in Desmond's bleak hope for his life. The Farm was so desolate, and extraordinary stories were something he never found dull.
He wondered what Gavin would think of him and the others showing up aboard his ship- the Altair II was the Assassin's HQ, but there had to be limited space. Desmond realized with dismay that the assassins were few and far between, and that any space that Gavin had meant that someone had previously filled it.
He knew that he had to do something, and it was going to be something monumental- as if I haven't done enough- the thought was tired and worn in his psyche.
Maybe after this, we can stop having to bury people. The thought of no death and world peace was a childish hope, and it felt to Desmond as if he were a misled teenager again, wanting killing to stop because it was as simple as 'everybody should just drop their guns' along with their beliefs and prejudices that seemed so ingrained that it would take decades with a sanding block to ever get rid of.
Baby steps, he reminded himself. The journey of a thousand miles began with a single step.
The van stopped, and the smell of seawater became pungent as Desmond's inner thoughts were interrupted.
"We're here," William announced, standing from his seat beside Desmond and moving to open the back of the van. Desmond and the others followed; the dock was in sight. And in it, sat the Altair II.
"This is a ship?" Connor looked to the Altair II in both awe and confusion. "Where are the masts?"
"It's motorized- as most things are in this day and age. The mechanics of steering and the like are roughly the same, it's just propelled by technology, rather than the wind," Shaun answered. "It provides more ample opportunities to sail, rather than waiting for the exact right moment for the weather to perfect itself." Connor's eyebrows raised.
"You named a ship after me?" Altair looked to Desmond, and then to William, the curiosity in his eyes seeking answers.
"Don't be needlessly arrogant," Malik elbowed Altair. "They're obviously naming it after the star, in the Aquila star system." Connor looked to Malik.
"It seems that the assassins are forever connected to the eagle and its freedom. I had a ship named Aquila. My mentor's name was Achilles- and when...Those Who Came Before took me on a spirit journey, they used the form of an eagle to guide me along my path."
Malik's eyes widened. "It seems that one life does not provide enough mysticism, so that we will have to endure another."
"I do not understand." Connor's brow furrowed.
"They actually did name the Altair II, and its predecessor after Altair, the Master Assassin," Rebecca interrupted. "Where do you think they got Altair's name, in the first place?" Rebecca smirked as Malik rolled his eyes- Altair was all but outwardly mocking Malik for the fact that someone named a ship after him.
"I am honored." Altair turned to William, an arm coming over his chest in a salute.
"Tell that to Gavin- the captain." William's gaze locked on the ship, Gavin standing on the edge of the deck, waiting to meet them.
Gavin cast a guarded gaze to the group, crossing his arms in anticipation.
"Are these the anomalies that you were talking about?"
"Not very friendly, is he?" Yusuf muttered to Ezio, who grit his teeth and dug his elbow into Yusuf's ribs. Despite the cool, blue aura of the fellow Assassin, Ezio could sense the caution the man emitted. When an assassin was cautious, they were more than ready to attack. "He is a Brother, Ezio," Yusuf mumbled.
"So is William, but that didn't stop him from brandishing a weapon as Altair and I came out of the Temple."
"As I said, it was better you saw in person what I meant," William answered, walking closer to the edge of the dock. Gavin's face was unreadable as he turned, beckoning the group to come aboard.
"Let's get you all inside- it's freezing."
"You can say that again," Shaun grumbled. They made their way to the deck of the ship; William walked to Gavin, offering him a salute and an embrace.
"It's good to see you all in one piece," Gavin offered as he and William released the hug.
"To you as well. How's the crew?"
"Tolerating, as ever. We were mighty surprised to hear from you," Gavin paused. "When the world didn't end, we'd assumed you were successful, but when you didn't make contact afterwards..." Gavin shook his head. "We thought you were dead, Bill." William nodded in understanding.
"It's a long story. Let's get settled in, first. After that, I can tell you everything."
"That's the thing, William. I have a long story of my own that could very well be an element of yours."
"What are you talking about, Gavin?" The group behind William shifted, unease growing among them. Desmond shivered. He tried to will away the creeping exhaustion in his limbs, yet it was adamant. Rebecca put an arm around his shoulders as she saw his discomfort. He looked to her in gratitude, leaning into her touch.
"Why don't you come below deck?" Gavin turned, leading William and the others into the ship. The Altair II was a labyrinthine network of hallways and rooms- Desmond was surprised that anyone could get around without getting lost. The assassins who lingered below deck murmured between themselves as they passed. Desmond caught too little of it to determine whether it was in scrutiny or curiosity.
"I'm surprised, Gavin," William said as he matched Gavin's gait. "You took to seeing five Assassins who should be dead rather well." William had the growing suspicion that Gavin's relative calm reaction to the ancestors had something to do with whatever Gavin had to show him.
"You'll see why," was all Gavin offered. He turned another corner, opening a door that opened to the navigation and meeting room. As they filed in, William stopped shortly after he walked through the door. He blinked. He blinked again. Before he could collect himself to muster a response to his fellow Assassin Leader, Altair gasped, a single word coming from his lips as he moved forward.
"Maria."
A/N: Bloop bloop bloop so that's another update! I'm coming up on the start of another semester at university in about 4 days, so I may not update again for a while. Maybe my (belated) New Year's resolution can be to update this fic regularly, and finish it by the end of the year. I've been thinking of ways to keep up on writing, so I hope they work out.
I've had a lot of people ask if any other people/ancestors will make an appearance, and I'm going to have to cut it off at Maria Thorpe. As much as I love Edward, Shay, and anticipate that I'll love Arno, they've come into the series after Desmond's arc, and they wouldn't fit into what I have planned for this story. (I'd love to see them all in the present day, but that's a story for another time.)
Though there wasn't any Templar action in this, in my growing affection for Juhani, I made a playlist for him, and you can listen to it on 8tracks: /illogicallogician/suomen-poika
That's about all I have for now, so I hope you've enjoyed the latest chapter, and as always, you have my unconditional gratitude for your support and patience with me and this fic.
