The next month passed not unlike that first day. Haytham trained me in stealth in the mornings, alternating through the different allies that had joined us in Boston, and I did marginally better than the day prior each time. After sundown, we gathered at the table to discuss our plans for the upcoming months. I spent most of my free time getting to know the area, looking for paths to the rooftops, out of the city, entrances to the underground. I didn't go into the underground quite yet, not prepared to face the possibility of getting lost in the darkness below the city. I'd have to do so soon, though, else I'd miss any chance to really discover them.

I came to get to know the other Templars better, eventually coming to consider them trustworthy acquaintances of sorts, and Hickey even became something of a "friend" to me. I wouldn't trust him with most information about myself, but he was fun enough to be around. We would go to taverns throughout the city, I'd have two or three drinks-slowly coming to accept the taste as just bad rather than revolting-, and he'd have a dozen, and then we'd return to the Green Dragon. Lee would comment that I shouldn't spend my time with someone like Hickey, and then they'd argue, and Pitcairn or Johnson would break it up.

Johnson was still the mildest-mannered one. While not a push-over by any means, he took the time each morning to greet me, would have lengthy conversations with me, and he seemed to not mind teaching me mathematics or science, for which I was grateful.

Pitcairn, I came to find, was more serious than the others, but more mild-tempered than Church. While he didn't play along with my games oftentimes, he wasn't rude to me either. I came to respect him, though I didn't go out of my way on his behalf for many reasons.

Church wasn't someone I liked. He was short-tempered, sharp-tongued, and flighty. I spent most time around him snickering at Hickey's near-constant hassling of the man.

Lee was polite towards me. He took Haytham's word that I could be trusted, but didn't give me any special treatment. The most interaction we had was brief conversations and pleasantries, or talk during the nightly meetings. Remembering what he'd done to a four-year-old Connor made me keep my distance, anyway.

Haytham was locked in his room most of the time between our daily training and the meetings. Tonight, however, he'd requested that I meet with him at the docks after on of the aforementioned meetings-alone. I stuck to my training and avoided drawing attention, as I was growing accustomed to.

Upon reaching the pier he'd indicated earlier, I leaned against a nearby building, unfocused my eyes-I'd learned that this helped detect movement from a book called Ranger's Apprentice years ago, and I used it when I could these days. I moved to walk with Haytham when he passed by.

We strolled throughout the city for some time, neither speaking, neither making a move to stop. We continued until we'd abandoned the shelter of the buildings, reached an area where there was nothing but open land for several dozen meters. Then, he stopped.

He was quiet for a moment, and I didn't dare to talk; Haytham was Haytham: he'd say what he wanted when he needed to. I waited patiently.

"You're… certain?" He questioned vaguely.

"Of?" It was difficult to answer such an unclear question.

A long pause. "The Assassin. Of him being my son. You have no doubts, no second thoughts, no other ideas as to who it could be?"

"The Assassin is your son by Ziio. The only son you had that I am aware of." Another pause that threatened to swallow both of us up.

"...Did I kill him?" He turned, looked me in the eyes, searching for something, anything.

I held his heavy gaze and shook my head, and answered, my voice low. "No. You had more than one chance, and you let him live every time."

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, exhaled just as deeply. "Do you think I could?"

I examined him. Took in the picture of this powerful man who stood here, looking to me for… something. I wasn't sure what he wanted me to say. I said the only thing I could. The truth.

"No."