"In the beginning, I was searching for myself in my music. My music was for me. I didn't have the mental room to be conscious of the listener; I wrote to save myself."
-Ayumi Hamasaki
The air was still and the images of enemies surfaced the walls. Everything was in a constant blurring as if she, herself, was nothing but a ghost. The people kept moving and the birds kept flying; and the animals kept sleeping; and the sounds kept murmuring into nothing. Was this some kind of nightmare? Or was this some sort of nexus that collected saved data of her memories? Everything that her eyes saw was here. The people, the food, the friends, the foes, the clothes, the acts, the sequences, the words, the songs, the faces, the clothes, the acts, the faces, the people, the people the food the friends the foes the clothes the acts the sequences the words the songs the faces the clothes the acts the faces the peoplethepeoplethefoodthefri endsthefoestheclothestheacts thesequencesthewordsthesongs thefacestheclothestheactsthe facesthepeople00100010101000 0101000010000100010010000100 0001000100000010001001010001 0000001001001010100000001010 01010010101000 – 00010100010000111…
"You have collected a sufficient amount of data, Artemis." A tall, white figure stood over scanning through the eyes of the observer, watching closely at the sequences. "However, there are minor flaws you want to evade as the sequences progress." She turned to the shorter woman who looked as stern as ever, keeping her eyes to the ground and waited for her "boss" to explain. Pushing some holographic screens aside, the white figure approached the young woman and lifted her chin. She flinched at the touch, not sure what to make of it for it was neither warm nor cold.
"You must keep your emotions under control," her empty eyes bore into hers, "Nothing is certain about the correct—the true path that this assassin may follow, but whatever the cost, you must not take risks. He trained for years for this moment and we of the First Civilization must make certain of his survival. That is why we chose you."
The novice wanted to look away from the ghostly figure's eyes as she said this. Her eyes held nothing. There was no abyss leading into her sockets just… nothing. So much emptiness that her head began to ache because it could not see anything in them for it had absolutely no content to absorb. This might as well be a nightmare. The novice broke from the woman's grasp and squint her eyes as she returned the gaze, not wanting to hear her "advice" again. She knew full well that her native companion trained hard for some years to complete his task, but to go through the motions with no emotions…
"I know what I have to do, but I…" she stuttered and the white spirit was in no mood for excuses. She narrowed her eyes, silencing the girl from complaining any further.
"This sequence was his first chance to exterminate one of those who would endanger our sanctuary and take the Piece of Eden for themselves. If that were to happen, then all will be lost. Humanity would be at its end. He desires for his people to remain safe. Would you rather him being destroyed along with his people?" The novice's eyes shot open, evident that tears were going to fall, but refused to with little effort. The spirit was making this harder than it really was by making this harder on the novice than it really was. She didn't want to do this…
"So you want me to punish him?"
"It is your duty to teach him more mental discipline."
"No," she said, deadpanned, "I will not hurt him; mind or body and you can't make me."
"No matter. He shall learn to reap what he sows should he continue, but mark my words: his inactivity and yours will destroy everything."
Then everything vanished to white.
Tsipporah shot up from her canopy bed and searched her current surroundings. It was her bedroom for sure despite the entire room being completely dark, so she felt her way out of the covers as she trembled like a newborn deer. Her rattling nerves were so sensitive that even the still air made her jump out of her skin. Making her way to the window, she specified what time of the night it was. The stars were still out and the sky was nearing a dark blue. It must be near four o'clock in the morning or so and the owls were still hooting restlessly. The novice sighed as her fingers pricked the window sill and her surreal dreams haunted her. It was every time that she was with her native companion would she have these dreams where the woman in white would come to her collecting her thoughts and picking at her memories, and then tell her what she has to do next.
The novice leaned forward at the panes, gazing up at the starry sky. Recalling those discomforting encounters, this strange woman—Juno—would invade her very mind and be told of things that no one else on earth knew. Even things that the Brotherhood knew about were divulged to her—things she didn't want to hear and hope that her native friends wouldn't find out. The young woman bit at her thumb-nail, praying that Clan Mother knew nothing of all that Juno told her. How would they look at her if they knew? Would they still welcome her as a 'sister'? Would they turn her away finally? If they knew of what Juno's been telling her, then they'll be forced to execute her on the spot.
"Tsipporah?" a husky voice echoed from behind the door. A few gentle knocks sounded at the doorway that alarmed the novice. Her heartbeat was out of tune and fumbled around in her chest. Just as she was excited to be on this adventure, she wanted to leave and forget this all happened. Tsipporah straightened up and tried to look for her lantern on the vanity table, her eyes adjusting to the blackness. She called out over her shoulder and fetched for the matches wherever the hell they were, and proceeded to fall backwards as she heard the door open on its own.
"What the hell, man? You can't just wait until I get the lantern?" she fussed. Connor narrowed his eyes, not interested in her ranting. Instead he walked in already clad in his assassin's uniform. The novice wrinkled her face and picked her nose tiredly.
"The fuck are you in costume for?"
"I was hunting. Why are you up so early?"
"Bad dream. I was gonna stay up and draw, but then you walk in, so…"
"What do you draw exactly?"
"Nothing special, Ray; just art vomit." Connor wasn't sure how to respond to that and the novice rolled her eyes, avoiding the urge to laugh at his priceless expression. She waddled back to her canopy and swooped under the bed and pulled out her massive sketchbook, nervously, and extended it to the 'tree-hugger'. He gave her an indifferent look before taking it and searching through its contents as Tsipporah finally lit her lantern. Connor kept looking about the pages as if they were written in Chinese or something, not sure what to make of what he was looking at. The novice looked over his shoulder to see what bemused him and laughed, knowing that he knew nothing of surrealism… or caricatures.
"What's with that face, huh? You don't like how I draw?"
"No, it's not that," he wrinkled his face, "your… style is as complex as you."
"It's not complex, it's art—the reflection of one's soul on paper."
"Reflection of one's soul indeed for I know not what to make of this."
"…Oh, fuck you, man. Gimme my sketchbook back!" she grew flustered and tried to snatch her 'diary' from his hands, but frowned once he extended his arm over her head to fish for it. She frowned even deeper, seeing that his arms were much longer than hers.
"Gimme!" she jumped onto his torso, latching on with her arms and legs hooked around him. Connor stepped back, stupefied, as he was not expecting this form of retaliation and came in contact with the wall. Upon impact to the hard surface, the two stumbled to the floor and the art book flipped to its back pages on display for the world to see. Tsipporah sat in fetal position as she found that she landed on her hip, but Connor quickly recovered following a few seconds. Rubbing his neck, the naked pages caught the corner of his eye and he instinctively reached for it. On those secret pages laid bundled woodlands, crystal spheres, and a boy chasing a bald eagle. When he focused his eyes, he could see that the boy is… him?
"Hey!" the novice snatched at his hand, "Don't look at that—!"
"What is this?" he refused to give it back at this point and she could see it in his face. Oh, well, there was no point in keeping it a secret since she's here already. She's seen this image for many years before they first met so…
"Before I met you, I kept having this strange dream about a tribal boy running with an eagle. He was always in a blur, but I could still tell he was native. Nothing ever happens except I'm standing in the woodlands, animals are passing by, an eagle swoops by, and a young tribal boy chases after it. I didn't think anything of it, but then…"
"'Then'?" Connor came closer as she started to whisper.
"Then I came here…" she gestured to everything around her, "I never told anyone—not even Angie about this dream I kept having. All I know is that every time I wake up, I feel refreshed, but now I can't sleep." She crossed her arms and bowed her head to her chest, unable to feel any lethargy, and looked to her feet as she was ashamed of what she confessed.
"Do you still have this dream?" Connor asked as he returned the sketchbook to her hands, but the novice shook her head.
"Not since I met you," she just wanted to vanish from the spot as she felt that she was spilling her inner-most chambers of her heart to this young man. It felt like every word that spewed from her mouth had shed every last bit of tomboyish-vibe that's she's held up for quite some time. She wasn't very certain if her words carried a hint of weakness to Connor's ears, so she gathered some courage to look him in the face. Once her head lifted to see, she clutched at her sketchbook in her arms. His honeyed eyes were soft and focused on her, boring into hers strongly. Somewhat, Tsipporah remembered that look—that intense stare he gave her as they first lived in Davenport on the night they fought off bandits trying to break into the manor, and Achilles accepted them into the household. She fidgeted on the spot when she felt her chest light up and tingle.
"Are you really unsure of why you are here?"
"Are you gonna kill William Johnson any time soon?"
"That is none of your concern." He brushed her off, but she was not amused.
"I watch you, dipshit. Of course it's my concern! You can't just decide when you're not gonna kill. You think this is a free country? Well, guess what, it's not. There's always gonna be a time to kill and a time for peace, but until then, I'm-a be watching your pacifist ass make some heads roll and you're going to do it whether you like it or not! So… do what you will. Just make sure the Templars aren't breathing by the end of the century." She huffed and the quietness took over, but not 'til a subject nearly flew over her head.
"Who are those people down there in that new cabin anyway?" she asked. It took only a small number of hours to build their home in a couple of days. It was already the night before Christmas and Angie was at the Robber's place robbing him of his quenching thirst for desire. Thank God for that, but she could hear them shag from a mile away when they do. The new couple came in the 21st of December early in the morning to see their place being set up and by the lumberjacks, and the neighboring carpenter. Apparently, it was some sort of pub that was built. Great.
"Oliver and Corrine will be living in Davenport from now on. They will open a pub here and an inn for weary travelers. I told them of your Christmas festivities and offered their space once it is finished, which will be soon. I have already covered for most of the construction."
"Wow… thank you, Connor…" she held her hand against her chest, fighting the temptation to kiss and hug him, "How could I ever repay you?" she should kick herself for asking such a question because the look on her companion's face was that of a sinister children's book villain when they plotted.
"There is one thing that would be most helpful. Kateri's mother, my aunt will do everything in her power to make sure her daughter will not marry Kanen'tó:kon. We have agreed to settle this by challenging her to Snow Snake." Tsipporah blinked once, twice—somewhat thinking that this was the real reason he came to her so late from hunting. She sputtered a sigh and combed her hand through her messy curls. Snow Snake? She played that game at the Iroquois Historical Society when she first moved to New York. The old man there taught her the rules and how to play. A sideways slope would be molded from snow and the opponents would have to use a long stick or branch to slide and toss the stick against the slope; the one or team to have their stick thrown the farthest wins.
"In laws. Ain't that a bitch. Alright, I'll help since my throwing arm got better. Plus, I want Kateri to get married… (It would be saddening to see a beautiful couple such as them not marry because of Kateri's mother not wanting it. I want to see all of my friends happy this Christmas, so I will fight for her.)"
"(I am still surprised that you are able to speak the words of my people.)" Connor said as he went through the doorway with a sense of pride in his friend.
"(I am still surprised that you haven't gotten yourself a woman yet.)"
"(Have you a man?)" He glared over his shoulder and the novice shook her head.
"(Why? Would you be angry if I told you that I did—)" he already closed the door and his footsteps lead to his own room. The girl rolled her eyes, sensing some pressure points as she said her last statement. Was he embarrassed that he didn't have a girlfriend or something? Tsipporah shrugged her shoulders and recalled that she was still holding her sketchbook, so she slid it back under the canopy bed. She clawed at her chest again, feeling her heart flutter uncontrollably for it still remembered those eyes staring her down with power—power that overwhelmed her. The novice blew out the lantern and tried to calm her thoughts, closing her eyes in hopes of sleeping peacefully for the rest of the night.
The morning rays fell upon the Homestead that was veiled in pure whiteness that continued to rain in forms of crystals and ice. Some woke with a start, feeling the weather kick in with prickly chills, everyone scrambled to get their coats and coverage. The woods were finally quiet, thus the hunters of the frontier could not go about shooting for meats and furs and neither could the native subjects for they must respect the resting season of the forest creatures. Kanen'tó:kon swept himself in through the trees of his bride-to-be's current residence, eager to see her again though it has only been a number of days. He was content that she had followed her own path to stray from her controlling mother, but wanted her to be near him. Her having to leave with her cousin had left a gaping hole in his heart, but knew that she was better off this way. Ratonhnhaké:ton was better off as well away to train and to become strong enough to protect their home because he had always watched from afar as Aghanashimi would try with all her might to belittle and endanger him. On several occasions, did she leave him and himself in the forest and provoke a few bears to attack them. Never again.
"Kateri, my love, where are you?" Kanen'tó:kon called out in the silence of the wood. It was the part of the forest where Myriam and Alice resided to sell their surplus of furs and skins of the animals hunted. After a bundle of creaks, the cabin door opened, revealing a young native woman dressed in furs and pants of the colonials. Her hair was braided back into an up-do that proved to be creative due to its length, and her skin was as radiant as ever. She smiled and walked with a skip in her step as her fiancé smiled back.
"(Good morning, my darling!)" She took his face in her hands and kissed him sweetly.
"(Good morning to you as well.)" He broke the kiss taking her hands into his, watching each other romantically as their foggy breaths entwined. Kateri batted her lashes and took his lips into hers once more, but deepened the kiss as she wrapped her arms around his neck. This caught him off guard and broke it a tad faster than before.
"(Where did you…?)" He gasped.
"(Angie always did it that way with Fillan. I thought I should try it.)" Kanen'tó:kon gazed at her with his glazed eyes, wishing she'd show him more, but not out here.
"(Does your mother know of you learning these?)"
"(No. She would not want me to be friends with a 'harlot', a 'half-breed', a 'black plague', and marry an 'oaf', so I won't tell.)"
"(Good because that would put a big stake in our wedding night.)"
"(If there will be a wedding night…)"
"(Do not worry my sweet, we will have a wedding and your mother will have to acknowledge all that you do and what you have chosen. Ratonhnhaké:ton and I along with others will challenge Aghanashimi to Snow Snake. We shall not lose.)" Kateri buried her head into his chest, laughing, and looked up to her fiancé once more with hope in her eyes. He has come a long way from running from bears and wolves to actually facing them. She was proud of her future-husband no matter what her mother had to say about it, but as it is their custom, the final decision in marriage is always up to the mother of the family.
"Ratonhnhaké:ton! Tsipporah!" Alice jumped out of the embrace of Kanen'tó:kon when she saw her best friends come her way and the novice shook her head.
"(I think you've spent too much free time with my friend, Kateri. I'm afraid of what you try on your wedding night…)"
"(If there is a wedding to be had—)"
"(We have that taken care of, Kateri. There is no need to worry.)" Connor assured, but his observer fussed at the thought. Playing a game in order to secure a decision of marriage? If making peace and agreements was this easy in life, the wars in the coming centuries wouldn't last for a day.
"(Ratonhnhaké:ton, do the people here know of Snow Snake?)" His childhood friend asked and got a shake of the head in return.
"(I explained of the game to them as they are hard workers, so sliding a branch far enough should not be a problem.)"
"So what about Christmas tomorrow, guys? I hope you're bringing gifts!" Tsipporah whiplashed the subject of games and Alice jumped at the mention of the party, rambling on how she's worked so hard on everyone's gifts and that she has a special surprise to show off at night. The novice, too, explained that the French Queen had gotten her something as an early Christmas gift, but wasn't going to tell anyone and show it off tomorrow as well. Connor could care less what the surprise was for he wasn't one for festivities. To ensure that everything goes right, but as for participating in them, he would stay in a lonely corner, planning other important things for the coming months. Kanen'tó:kon understood his friend's aloofness during celebrations and that he most likely won't join his possible wedding reception for the Great Feather Dance, regrettably.
"Well, I'm off, since I got nothing to do but walk around," the girl waved and turned to leave. Really, there was nothing else to do. The girls had spent all day yesterday shopping for gifts and the new innkeeper had a Christmas tree set up with capped candles and ornaments while the carpenter had a painted, golden star made. Wreaths were decorated on everyone's door and the manor was fully clothed in the holiday spirit to Achilles' joy or dismay. The gifts themselves were set aside in everyone's homes, wrapped and ready to be given away to their designated receivers. Tsipporah figured that this would be the perfect time to speak to Peg-leg about Captain Kidd's treasure and his mention of the Ancient Mayan Ruins. After seeing the movie Apocalyto, she really wanted to visit the ruins in real life even if was during the 18th century.
"Where are you going?" Connor called out, curious.
"On a treasure hunt, tree-hugger!" she called back, waving her palm, and advancing forward to the docking area where Peg-leg was. Connor shrugged his shoulders, knowing that that girl can never stay still for anything. Once she was out of things to do, she'd look for something fun to do. The lovely, native couple laughed, seeing that he wasn't going to go after her and suggested that he should. The assassin was reluctant and decided to go back into the manor to see his mentor who had been silent for some days as everyone scrambled for the holiday party the next day. As he ventured through the interior, he spotted the old man in his sitting room where he would print and write.
"Achilles?" Connor knocked on the doorway post to signify his polite entrance. The old man looked up from his desk and gave a quick look to the empty wall behind him before turning back to his student.
"Connor. Good timing; I was just musing on something you could do for me."
"What is it?"
"I have left something deep inside a cave on the cliff sides of this area and I would like for you to retrieve for me. I suppose your observer would enjoy the excursion, seeing that she takes delight in finding hidden or lost things." Connor couldn't agree more. She is still so eager to find clues to an ancient ruin that is probably eroded away with time.
"What exactly am I to search for?"
"It is a wrapped painting I used to keep on this wall here," he pointed to the empty wall behind him. There was a large, rectangular clean spot that said that something used to be there. "It has been a long time since I last looked at it and I would appreciate if you had it returned to this room." Connor nodded. The old man had to say no more for the youth went straight out the door on this quest. He bring along his observer to help him since she made finding the location Marie Antoinette was staying for the rendezvous easy to trace. He came about the docking area where the novice was speaking to Peg-leg still, intrigued by the trade she's made, turning to Connor and waved a ripped piece of paper.
"Hey, Connor, look!" she jumped up and down, happily, "It's a piece of Captain Kidd's map!"
"Stay your anticipation, Tsipporah. The old man had a favor to ask of us and I need you to help me."
"Help you? With what, Connor?" she blinked, a little nosy as to what it was.
The two climbed the cliff-sides of the frontier that were proven to be quite slippery due to the overwhelming amount of snow. How on earth was the hooded assassin able to cling to the rocks, anyway? This skill baffled the young novice as they back-jetted the stony walls to reach the other side. Thank goodness she knew where she was going with a compilation of riddles that Achilles had left to Connor. In fact, they were coordinates that were scrambled and written in invisible ink. How very Brotherhood of him… The youths finally pulled up onto a cavern-like hole in the cliff and looked about its structure. Tsipporah took up her lantern that was kept on her hip and lit it to look around.
"Yep," she bit her lip and nodded approvingly, "Definitely the work of a good climber." Her back was slightly killing her thanks to nearly falling several times.
"It is a wrapped painting we are looking for and he hid it where no one can reach."
"Thirty-five steps… north?" she squinted her eyes at the directions, wondering if she was reading wrong, but it couldn't be. She has solved and cracked every code that was thrown at her, but knew that north had to forward… or up? Giving up half-heartedly, she went with her gut and decided to go forward by thirty-five steps. There were some rocks tumbling under their feet as they went ahead and both almost tripped because of their dampness from the snow. The novice huffed angrily at the struggle and stopped once they reached the maximum amount of steps, looking around.
"Huh…" Connor chucked a festered sigh, "it said 'north', you say? We must have taken the wrong route."
"You always seem to doubt my skills…" she cooed and looked in all directions, guessing that this wrapped painting was against the walls or something. Connor leaned against the rocky texture; pondering about where else this painting could be and felt a drop of water fall on his cheek. He wrinkled his nose and looked up, seeing something dangling from the rough stalactites. It was large and rectangular, wrapped in animal skins and mixed fabrics.
"There!" he called and searched for the crevices in the walls to reach up. Luckily, some strong branches stood up against the walls and moved upward towards the goal. The novice held her search and saw after Connor that her second guess was correct this whole time, kicking herself for not thinking outside the box. After a struggle, Connor managed to hoist himself up to retrieve it, passing it down to his aide. She cooed and clenched her hands around the work, curious to see what was inside, but the assassin stayed her hand.
"We must bring as it is. It is not our place to look at it."
"Fine. I wasn't going to…" the girl admitted, bouncing in her step as they left the premises and the way down wasn't going to be fun at all. As she looked down, her acrophobia crept into her nerves, rattling them with uncertainty. Connor followed her eyes to the far off grounds and scoffed.
"Ladies first?"
"Fuck you, Connor…" she gulped as she stared at the ground that seemed farther than it really is. The assassin swept his hand over his head and weaved them around her waist, earning a squeak from her. She stayed still against his body and gripped the painting even tighter, feeling as though the tears in her eyes would spill.
"You're gonna go out on a limb here and synchronize a leap of faith, aren't you?"
"Close your eyes if you're afraid."
"No! That makes me a pu—AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH !"
Connor threw both of them off the Cliffside from 60 ft. of compiled rocks into a large pile of forest rubbish and soft snow. The feeling of falling from great heights brought about exhilaration to the hooded youth. It was as if he was flying and swooping to the ground for a perfect landing after he's seen the entirety of his surroundings. He broke from his thoughts as he realized that the novice was shrieking a terrible scare in his arms as she held onto him and the painting for dear life. Once they landed into the rubbish, he motioned to let her go, but her hands gripped onto his sleeves still and released the painting from her arms. On the ground, he tried to stand, but the novice wouldn't free him so easily. Looking closely at her face and body, she was scared out of her mind. Her entire bodice trembled and her eyes she shut tight, still waiting for the fall to end.
"Tsipporah, are you alright?" he placed his hand under her chin to see her face.
"No… don't… D-Don't ever do t-that again…" she stammered in shock, trying to get a hold of herself, but couldn't. She still wasn't used to dropping from the sky it seemed and got past the whole 'don't look down' segment, but the leap of faith was beyond her. A streak of guilt came across her native companion as he looked at her. She was not crying, mad, nor saddened, but scared for dear life. He brought her closer to him and brushed her cheek against his.
"Forgive me for I was not aware of this fear, but you've climbed these cliffs before—"
"The high jumps down still scare me…" she gulped, "and I always had people climb with me." She was so shaken up that even her body wouldn't let out a tear. Her muscles recoiled into a spasm she hasn't felt in a while and couldn't stand up.
"I will carry you and the painting, just—"
"N… No," she released her firm clutch, her voice trembling, "I-I sh-should w-walk it off since we're a-already at t-the bot-bottom."He gave her a pitiful look and she retorted weakly. "D-Don't give m-me that l-look—look, hero. I-I'm nineteen, s-so I should t-toughen up…" she stumbled a few times before succeeding in a full stance. Taking a few steps forward, she nearly tripped and slowly walked at her normal pace. Connor got up easily now, coming after her with the painting in hand, wondering if she was ever going to forgive him for doing this to her. He had always thought that she had some sort of man-ish wit about her, but now he is seeing a whole new side to her—a scared little girl.
"That was so fucking stupid, Connor," Angie accused and pointed her finger. The novice had to rest for the remainder of the day because as their little misadventure sent her into a minor shock, a panic attack ensued later on. Angie explained that she flew off of a roller-coaster (some contraption he wasn't knowledgeable of) when she was eleven and was afraid of falling from large heights ever since. It wasn't a petty fear, but to the novice, it was one that had to be utterly conquered. The native man wasn't sure of what to say since his friend won't see him. The last he saw of her was just wrestling and screaming… and many, many falling tears before night enveloped homestead.
"I understand if she won't forgive me."
"She probably will. 'To err is human; to forgive, divine.'"Angie shrugged, knowing her friend wasn't one to hold a grudge. "She decided to help you, and helping you out in itself is suicide, but you know what? Christmas is tomorrow and your cousin is cooking the turkey and bringing some corn. I can't wait to eat some food and get some gifts. Speaking of which, Tsipporah was making you something. I think she'll finish it tonight."
"What?!" he snapped, "She must rest!"
"She's just like that to all her friends, Connor, she'll be fine." He wasn't too sure of those words. The novice had to rest for the day and his aunt would come the next morning to challenge him for Kateri's fate and marriage. Whether she would join the game of Snow Snake did not matter to him now. He prayed for her to get better. Once Angie left the manor to Fillan's cabin, Connor went to dispatch the recovered item to Achilles' office, but even as night fell, the old man hadn't dared to touch even a hair of it. His student furrowed his brows, wondering why it was untouched.
"I am not yet ready to set my eyes on it. When the time is right, I will open it and have it set on the wall."
"I understand."
"I understand that the observer had a bit of a shock this morning. I send my condolences to her. A panic attack of her magnitude should only last for half the night or so. She might not be able to eat tonight." Sighing despondently, the youth turned and went through the doorway to return his assassin suit to the basement. Down the stairs, he heard a thud sounding off from below the floors and stopped halfway of the stairwell. He sneered and hurried to the first floor, opening the passage of the hidden basement. Venturing down the short set of stairs, he found a crouched body huddling something.
"You are supposed to be resting." He shook his head disapprovingly at his novice as she worked on something with shaky hands. She is still in shock, he suspected and tried to lift her from the ground, but kept getting pushed away.
"No! I gotta finish this!" she nailed herself to the ground as her ceramic devices were out to use. Her native companion had no patience for this and plucked her from the spot, oddly angering her further as he threw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She tried kicking him, but it had little effect.
"Ugh! Come on! At least let me get my things!"
"I will put you to bed and retrieve them for you."
"I put my own art supplies away! No fucking way you're touching my stuff!"
"This argument is pointless, Tsipporah. You cannot work as you are now."
"Of course I can! I painted with my left hand when I sprained my right wrist once."
"It's not the same; your nerves are out of control."
"Artists work when they're out of control, you moron!" Connor shook his head, knowing that he could not fully dissuade her.
The air was filled with a mist of holiday spirit and clear snow that made travel easier to manage. Some outside hunters found refuge in the new inn and some discounts to stay for the night since it was Christmas Day. Happily, on this day in the early morning, the member of the Brotherhood had a church built almost overnight now that an English preacher decided to live in Homestead, preferring the open countryside and the people were in need of mass. It did not put a dent in the party plans, though, since the mass would take place in the late afternoon. Everyone was cheery this morning, knocking on each other's doors and wishing them a Merry Christmas. Some neighbors resorted to caroling, which stopped upon the manor, when Achilles gave a disgruntled look at Terry and Godfrey for coming on his doorsteps with that nonsense, warding them off.
The obnoxious scene woke the novice with a start and recalled her unrecovered items from the basement and scrambled down the stairs, ramming into the old man at the bottom of the stairs. She was knocked back even more due to his tough stature despite his age. The girl spewed a wry laugh before shutting to silence.
"I see you're in the holiday spirit."
"Actually, I was wondering if my stuff was still down there."
"Why, yes. Scattered and disorganized like yourself, just as you left it. Connor respected you wishes to not lay a single finger on them."
"Ah…" she replied and went down to check herself, not trusting just words. As he said, they were just as she left them last night. The novice internally squealed in delight, taking the untouched box to wrap it in great care. She was thankful that her native companion had not seen this gift or dared to peek at it.
In the woodlands, approaching the light countryside was a group of neighboring natives walking along the snowy grounds and facing forward, aware of their actions to come. They were to seal the marriage of their own and would do it with honor. Well, some of them. A woman who led the group would do it for spite for she hated just about everything her daughter was doing to her: leaving the tribe, befriending outsiders, and adopting their customs. She wrinkled her face at the thought and brushed it away, keeping her head up. As she threaded further, a small pack of wolves circled them and her eyes retorted them to disperse… which they did. They remembered her—the wolf slayer.
Once Homestead was in view, her sick smile lengthened and sprinted to the gates. The followers were caught off guard and ran alongside her, but her speed was unmatched and she darted so quickly that she broke the hatches off the wooden gate. The noise even alarmed some sleeping animals and some joyous residents, believing that the English are attacking them. When they looked out to see, they watched as a group of natives formed outside the Davenport manor, hollering for one of their own to show up to them. Angie and Fillan peeked from their doors, watching as the naturals cheered and whooped. They looked to each other and proceeded to go back inside to cloth themselves as they were both stark naked. After a few more minutes of their noise, Connor rubbed his sleepy eyes and answered the door to see his spiteful aunt and some men and women of his tribe. Kanen'tó:kon ran from the party to his friend's side as they were to face Aghanashimi.
"As promised, I am here, half-breed." She crossed her arms, but her nephew would not let her have her way. He went down the steps clad in his assassin suit until he was a few feet away from her stance. He wasn't taken aback by the amount of team members she gathered, but feared for his cousin's fate and this woman's unwavering determination to mold it as she pleased.
"And as promised, we will have our game." He nodded to the direction of a slope that was shaped by some early birds with a pile of sticks lying in wait. The woman pursed her lips and swayed to the pile, taking a thick branch in her palm. At the corner of her eye, her daughter enveloped in knitted furs marched along the dirt road, carrying two buckets full of thick, colored paints. Once the two came face to face, Kateri took a handful of red paint and reached out for her mother's face.
"(So you came…)" she wiped her fingers across the other's cheek.
"(I came for you.)"
"(No, mother, you came for you. You always have.)" Her eyes glazed with memories.
"(My goal is always your goal; remember that, Kateri. Whether you like it or not, I am your mother. I will control your destiny even you choose to not be with me.)" Kateri bit her lip, as if she knew her next words would be words she would later forget.
"(How is your heart, by the way? If not crushed by that oaf, it would certainly be crushed by my foot—)" Her daughter landed a solid blow to her painted face with an open palm and pulled out her hunting knife to carve her bitterness into her chest, but her cousin intervened, staying her hand while her fiancé wrapped his arms around her to calm her spirits. Just as this took to play, the players of Homestead came to join as the novices did.
"Alice!" Tsipporah, Marie, and Angie called out as they saw her being pulled away like a mental-patient going through the swings. Connor released his hold and swiftly took his cousin's knife before she would perform something she would rue and Kanen'tó:kon held her close.
"I should have killed you!" Kateri pointed a deathly warning, "Connor has done nothing but favors for you and you still spit at his face, and mine!" she cried into her beloved's shoulder and gripped at his chest. Her mother only shook her head, disappointed in her daughter's naïveté and went to the icy slope where the sticks laid in ready for use.
"Shall we have our game… Connor?" she spat at his English name, "You and your black whore better not waste my time." The novice's ears whipped upwards as her 'name' was called on by a petty insult that she did not like. What was worse was that she was called something that barely fitted her description. She hated that sort of ignorance about someone she's barely even met and stepped in front of her gang.
"'Black whore'? Well, excuse me Miss Thang, bringing in the time of the Trail of Tears so fast up in this peaceful part of the frontier—"her assassin pulled her back for a physical fight with Aghanashimi was surely an inevitable death match. The teams went to paint their faces for their designated colors. Homestead: blue; Natives: red. Once they did their faces, each team rotated to get a stick from one pile and waited on the side for their leaders to throw first. The assassin and the dragon lady went up first, and red team had to pitch the first throw. The woman's stick practically flew until it almost hit a tree that lay on the other side of the lake. Connor's throw, in the novice's eyes, was lucky for the stick reached a draw in distance to his aunt's. That was a draw for both teams… until the other teammates were up. Sure, they were strong and skillful, but their throw and aim was weak, and some received a few splinters from the branches they were holding. The only ones who managed to get a shot further were Kanen'tó:kon whereas the rest tried the best they could, but it wasn't enough. Should the blue team lose, Kateri would lose her chance of happiness in Kanen'tó:kon things were looking hopeless.
"What is this?" the old man came out from his patio to his front steps, seeing people gathered that were cheering or collectively sounding discouraged. Connor stepped up to explain that the game was almost over to his cousin's dismay. Achilles gave a half-smile.
"One more throw is all we need to win, but…"
"Have I taught you nothing, boy?" he walked up to the group and quickly painting his face, picking up and steadying the stick against the side-slope, focusing. He readied his stance and swung in his hips and shoulders, releasing the think branch through the air and far into trees where it supposedly vanished into the woodlands, past Aghanashimi's and her team's throws combined. The red team stood, stupefied, as did the blue team, and the old man stepped back like it was literally nothing.
"Are you done nosing about my land, Aghanashimi? If you're not here to make peace or take back your words from years ago about your sister, then I suggest you leave before I get out of retirement just for you." And Achilles turned on his heel to look at his student, thinking it ridiculous to have this trivial game played in the quiet countryside. The residents scratched their heads, not sure what to make of the situation until Faulkner spoke out with a drink in hand.
"The blue team has won thanks to old man Achilles! Here, here!" he toasted to the victor and the novice bit at her cheek, trying not to laugh. "Aye, I'll drink to that!" the men of Homestead agreed, but not without congratulating Kanen'tó:kon and Kateri on their right to marriage now. Alice gave a relieving sigh and embraced her future husband, but her mother was not amused at all. The rest of the natives held up their honor and respected the team's unsuspecting win. Aghanashimi wouldn't have it.
"I shall respect your wishes, daughter, but—"
"Mother… enough of this," Alice waved her arms, "stay for dinner—the party, but this quarrel that you have against everyone I love must end. You cannot keep treating us like this."Her mother swayed in place as she looked from the old man to the half-breed, discontent with how her ensured victory was crushed in the blink of an eye. Of course she knew the old man on the hill, who taught her and her sister English for the first time, but lost taste in timely visits after Ziio grew so close to… Haytham Kenway. She knew there was love; however, she let him go about the wrong road that would destroy their tribe. Aghanashimi would've excused herself, declining to her daughter's invitation until Connor gave her a look he would give his victims as he hacked his hatchet into them.
"These men and women of the tribe will need to go back, but… since the old man won your game; I suppose I can stand with the outsiders."
Before the natives receded to Kanatahséton, they congratulated the other team as well as the old man on the hill, gripping their arms with everyone for a good game and left Aghanashimi alone to speak with her daughter. Honestly, the woman had nothing to say to her. She wanted her life to be mended by her will and nothing more except to rid herself of her nephew. Kateri was more than ready to converse, not being afraid or instilled with murderous hatred since there was nothing else to be angered of; the only thing to look forward to would be the Christmas party in the evening, so the neighbors dispersed to either mass or to prepare for later festivities. The girls and the native men receded to allow the mother and daughter to speak with each other until night fell. Until then, the men would converse on future plans as the women spoke of how the wedding will be like. Marie had Tsipporah try on the new, lightly mint-colored dress that was bought a few days ago, along with heels, pomade, and rouge (shoes, hair-styling gel, and blush).
"Why are you dolling me up? I won't be able to walk down the stairs with this…"
"But you'll look ravishing." Marie smiled brightly, but the novice deviated.
"Ok, you're the fashionista; I believe in you, but be forewarned: my hair cannot be molded or tamed." The French Queen threw her head back in laughter, but the novice was serious about her stiff curls that many hair dressers gave up on. When her winter coating fully came off, the queen was faced with the novice's detailed tattoo of the Creed's insignia. She was truly intrigued by how different the style was compared to the realistic, classical paintings that hung in her parlor of Versailles. Her fingers traveled down the spine, feeling at the fabulous work of art that supported a patriotic theme. The contact broke when Tsipporah realized that the queen was touching her ass.
"Whoa! Marie! Not this Christmas. You're cool, but if you touch me like that without my permission, I'm going to federal prison for manslaughter." Angie sat on the canopy bed as if she didn't see anything, whistling to the air as she tugged her party shoes on.
"Forgive me," she pulled the dress on and circled around to lace the front in place, "A thousand pardons. It is just that you are so… handsome and—"
"Your husband ain't giving you any, I get it. Can't be without it for even two days—I get it." She looked to her other blonde companion and knew. Marie Antoinette would spend the next seven years without consummating her marriage and had several other lovers on the side since she was fed up with the anti-climactic nights. Her days were full of gambling, partying hard, and flirting, but that time was to make up for the uneventful nights. People spread rumors of how she does nothing but this and cares nothing for her people when in reality, all that responsibility is to the king and she was almost no political power. The novice tried not to frown at this, knowing that the strawberry blonde before her was to be beheaded before the century's end by the hands of her own people. Once the dress was on and the struggle with the hair was finished, the girls headed down the stairs where the old man was, tapping his cane impatiently.
"Well, it's about time. You girls used up a lot of precious time to look… precious."
"Achilles…if I wasn't a Christian…" the novice hissed as much as she could for she was wearing a corset. It was no joke. She almost couldn't breathe and Achilles could see it, earning a small smirk from his side.
"Connor and the others wait outside. The sun has set an hour ago and the stars are out. Alice says she has a surprise to share, whatever it may be." He opened the door for all to leave, which Tsipporah comically tried with all her might. The dress is beautiful, yes, but bountiful in the most infuriating ways and the observer turned sideways through the door, watching the old man out of fear that he would trip her in all of this madness. When her entire body was out on the patio, the others followed, but her heart felt as if it had stopped when she saw what Connor had on. It was a naval uniform, no doubt, but had more of a colonial-formal fashion to it with the knickers and all. When he was done adjusting his gloves, he turned to the awestruck novice and his eyes slightly widened at the sight of her. Half of his shock was from the notice of the fact that she was wearing a dress, but not any dress—a formal outing attire. Her untamed hair was pulled away from her face; revealing more of her swan-like neck and defined facial features that would hinder any passing man with a strong will; and her lashes… he didn't even know how naturally long they were until now.
"Hey, tree-hugger," she directed, "ready to have 'smashing good fun'?" and mimicked an English accent that snapped the native from his thoughts, remembering who he was dealing with. Connor pinched the bridge of his nose and looked upon the girl once more, thinking twice before deciding on complimenting her appearance and lack of mannerism.
"Shall we be off?" he offered his arm, poker-faced, and the young madam curtsied.
"Why certainly, kind sir," she wrapped her hand around his arm and… felt how firm his muscles were. Sure, he's held her before, but at times she was either tired or sick. She kept squeezing his biceps teasingly as they came to the inn; fascinated at how it was twice its size from when he was fourteen. Angie and Marie bit their lips at their friend's action and the man's inaction to resist, while the old man smirked at the novice's childishness. Once they came to the entrance of the inn, Fillan bowed his head and opened the door for them, taking Angie before she left inside.
"So where's my gift, love?" he brought her close to kiss her and she giggled.
"You'll get yours after the party, I promise."
Inside the large wooden cabin were stringed-wreaths entwined with pine leaves, hollies, and mistletoes. The tables were organized the best they could be with bright red poinsettias and saved roses alongside green ivy; and lit candles that created an inviting feel with a romantic touch to boot. Then as the group walked in further, there were the residents and Aghanashimi admiring the Christmas tree. It was decorated in the most extravagant way possible thanks to Marie. The tall pine tree stood having some flowers here and there, ginger-bread-men hooked from each crevice and branch, candy canes hung from every leaf, ribbons and German dolls sitting in some places with candle ornaments to emphasize its presence, but lacked a finishing ornament on top. Myriam and Alice, who wore plain white dresses with red sashes and holly in their hair as the other women did, turned and saw the honored guests and scurried towards them, but Myriam stopped.
"Well," she crossed her arms, "that's start." Angie moved to her side at the puzzled ones of the Brotherhood and Achilles bumped Connor's shoulder as he was still in the doorway. Tsipporah stood confused as ever until she looked at what hovered over her head as well as Connor's. Her eyes sunk into her sockets as she realized what was looming over their heads—a mistletoe. Her native companion couldn't comprehend what to make of this, but the novice had it in her mind to move away before the crowd got any ideas. Marie tugged her back under with such force, eager to see what would happen next.
"Why is everyone staring?" he really didn't know. Maybe she should run now.
"Connor, you really do not know?" Alice crossed her arms and the other troll-faced. "When two people have a mistletoe plant presently over their heads, they must kiss for it will bring about peace between the two."No Alice, it will bring about the exact opposite. Connor and Tsipporah looked at each other with a disgruntled look exchanged, causing Aghanashimi to laugh heartily. She guesses that perhaps they weren't involved with each other after all and her nephew was still a stingy virgin. The innkeeper's wife, Corrine, had enough of this adolescent tension and threw her hands in the air anxiously.
"Either you two kiss and get it over with, or have the rest of your years be filled with unhappiness."
"Come now, my friends," Kanen'tó:kon nodded to them both, "it is to ward off evil spirits. We would not wish for such misfortune on a beautiful night, would we?" The two misfits really didn't want that type of encouragement. In fact, it looks like the party won't start unless they take note to the given demands. Phooey…
Tsipporah gestured Connor to turn to face her, but he wasn't too keen on doing so. It wasn't peer pressure that led her on; she just wanted the party to commence. Besides, how bad was this going to be? Connor's handsome and muscular, and not so much of a bad guy when you take away the fact that slaughters like a berserker. She tilted her head up to see his eyes look into hers and suddenly had the urge to stop as her nerves shriveled up. Her male companion saw the hesitation in her face and lifted her head by her chin, and for once, an innocent-like glint sparked in her eyes. She's obviously never done this before and neither did he, but it didn't get in his way of closing in on her plump, painted lips…
You may all hate me for this cliffhanger, but I realized after a word count that I typed over 9000-which is way past my maximum limit. I think I had way too much fun building up to the party, so this ended up happening. Anyway, I'm off to Art Basel Miami to look at galleries and winter break is coming, so more free time for me. Final exams are almost over and the story is coming back to the plot line after a few excursions of Captain Kidd's Treasure, Kateri's and Kanen'tó:kon's Wedding, and the Ancient Mayan Ruins. All in two chapters, then surprise: William Johnson is back with a... comeback. Back to Templar killing! Whoo! See you next time!
And thanks for following. :D