Bad Blood
"The pull on my flesh was just too strong. Stifled the choice and the air in my lungs. Better not, to breathe a lie. 'Cause when I opened my body I breathe in a lie." - Mumford & Sons 'Broken Crown'
Light footing was his birthright. Without it he would have been caught, he would have been killed, he would not have food to eat. It was in nature where he learned the steps he needed, but it was through tough guidance where he perfected it. Steadily with a strong beating heart and eyes sharp like a hawks he let go of the arrow. His mind was heavy with regret. His mind clouded by the coming days that have yet to come. What he has seen he could never forget. What he felt could not be questioned or explained into simple words.
His heart was calm in a steady pace. They told him that he had a strong heart. Compassion. Identity. Righteous. A well practiced hunter could not forget what he was taught by those who taught him the art; the skill. He was also a fighter. A warrior who went from a helpless young boy to a strong grown man. With growing up his mind was also troubled. The years may have passed without much answers, but he felt close to seeking justice.
A few yards away the arrow found its mark in a mature doe. A beautiful creature that has met its demise from a weapon created by the most dangerous animal: man. Wondering minds cause distractions. With respect to the dead animal, his native tongue thanked the doe for giving him the meat and it's life so he could eat.
Connor could remember a time where life was 'simple'. No thought of war, no thought of leaving his village. He never thought he would lose his mother or grow up without a father. He only knew the life that his ancestor's and elder's lived. Much has changed making him become something he did not want to be. Time and time again he had to be reminded why he does it. 'For the sake of his people' he tells himself. 'For their sake. For their way of live to be preserved.'
The outside world was chaotic. The outside world also held wonders he was getting used too. These feelings (these emotions) were becoming an annoyance but also a discovery. His knowledge was growing.
He has commanded soldier's leading to victory when all seemed lost. At what cost? The death of red coats? For freedom? For what? Surely blood has stained his hands. At such an age he has killed but took no pleasure to it. Killing was for survival and the safety of those he held dear. Confusion as to the proper ways of peace, war was far from the answer he sought. He wanted to end it no matter how far into the fox hole he had to go.
Assassin's were as much of a mystery, yet he was one of them. This life was his. He wore the weapons that were given. He wore the robes. He stood by a creed. But what did it all mean for him? Assassin's fought for peace it seemed.
Templar's and the pirates they have as allies. They had their own agenda. He wanted to know what it was.
What am I to do?
He was torn between worlds he did not know or thought he knew. All around him was something familiar. Something to be seen yet could be unseen. Trees that lived to not speak of their stories. Animals roamed following instinct of the coming seasons. A sudden fog rolled blurring his vision and senses. The doe was skinned perfectly. Blood covered his hands. Flies were gathering around as a fox yelped being seen. Something has scared the small predator. This fog was moving at a pace.
He stood to his feet breathing in the scent of the fresh green grass. The wind gently blew in a slow dance. Before him a small figure appeared running through the trees. Morphing into an eagle with large beautiful wings towards two figures. It landed on a tree branch screeching as the two figures looked to him with solemn faces. Connor knew not of what it was he was seeing. The trick of the mind from lack of sleep. Battle worn with exhaustion running through his body. The hunger that was growling in his stomach. Maybe he was becoming insane with muddled thoughts.
The hooded men wore the blade of the assassin's on their arms. The eagle was not native to this land upon further inspection. This was not real. These were ghosts of ancient past looking to him. Looking to the successor. Startled by a reveal of ancient spirits; they were gone. Back into the mist of the forest from which they came.
The soft tune of a fiddle played a sad song. The sun covered by gray clouds made all emotion turn into dread instead of one of accomplishment. Talking of their victory was not without sadness. Sacrifice came with a heavy price. These men have lost good soldiers; friends and comrades never to return to the world of the living. I could see these men who were weary, tired, worked to the very bone, but they could not go without rest or thought if they will live to return home. The cost of freedom-unfortunately- was blood. War shed much blood.
Reality was brutal when I would pass by mass graves. Freshly made with bodies of soldier's underneath my feet. Blood masking in the dirt but the stench of death still lingered in the air. I had arrived in Concord after the fight. I was witnessing Patriots burying their own but even if the red coats were the enemy, they needed to be buried as well.
Passing through on foot, the stares of these soldier's was nerving. They have seen me as a threat for I did not come on horseback. These men had reason to see me as such. Convincing them was a task much like using reason with orphans. I had given them my side of the story that I was an alley to Connor. In terms of speaking about him as the native. This caught the attention of a man whom went by the name of James Barrett.
He was not fooled by my disguise. He saw right through it and was not pleased. There was mockery in his voice when he spoke to me. He wanted me to have nothing to do with the war for it had matters not dealing with someone who was in fact a 'woman'. I saw not offense to his words. Truth was sharper like the blade. I gave him reason's, examples, I would prove my worth to fight along men.
I was not the only one of my sex to follow males in battle. Because women were not seen in war does not mean they fight in disguise. People will always fight. People will shed blood male or not. However, I needed directions to Connor rather than speak of my reason to fight. Mr. Barrett saw humor in my impatience. I was not laughing rather than annoyed. Through struggle, through chuckles, he gave in. Peace was restored for the time being between us.
Philadelphia was were Connor was headed. The man gave me no reason other than a word of little encouragement. He was not a mean man, but rather a man who was fighting for something. I was not the problem. I was merely a woman. Mr. Barrett may have seen disapproval in me but he let me pass with only a map and a horse to take me to my comrade. No doubt I will be seeing the likes of men like Mr. Barrett.
...
Time was passing. Days were growing longer. I was still alone following a trail; a simple pattern. When I was close Connor was nowhere within my sight. I would be a few hours behind or miss him by a day. Philadelphia was a journey that we both needed to take on our own. The path of separation will do us both good in a sense that not only did I need my own thoughts hidden, but Connor had to be on his own. To find what it was he was searching for or he could figure out certain situations on his own without my presence to annoy him.
This journey gave me a chance to seclude myself from the march of war. How long this will last depends on who was winning and who lead the battalion. The English were well trained while the Patriots were not. Hope was dwindling by a string for the beginning of war would mean the loss of the Patriots. They need a leader. Someone who was capable of showing them what they needed to do.
This was a war that I was being dragged into. A war about separation, freedom, new land, but thinking about it what was I too gain? What was Connor to gain if we win this? As the colonist and English clash those on the sidelines watch. Assassin's, Templar's, and pirates have chosen their sides.
To draw my attention away from lingering thoughts, I looked to the sky. The stars in the heavens shinning brightly. Pulling the reigns to stop my horse from walking any further, I was mesmerized. It has been so long since I had asked for guidance from my God's. I could hear the sound of wings up above. An eagle soared looking down on me.
My horse felt an uneasiness surrounding us. Taking my eyes from the large bird I saw before me the same fox that I have come across when I killed a hare. My horse stomped its hove towards the small animal. The screeching of the eagle from above and the horse threatening it caused the fox to rethink its motive. Turning around it ran off snickering into the bushes.
Looking up to the sky the eagle was gone. My only thought was that the ancient spirits of the animals were a sign. A sign of what? The fox being a trickster meant something. The eagle being a spirit guide also had a meaning. There was much that was running it's coarse. The war has begun.
My only true question: what was to happen?
A/N: I wanted this chapter to capture what was going on through these character's head. Can I saw what Connor saw was real? Maybe, but I got that inspiration from revelations. I like that idea because we all know Connor is stuck between the world of an assassin and being himself. I am not sure if I had nailed it correctly so I apologize in advance for it.
Next chapter we get to Philadelphia! We find out what happens to Salty Bones! Maybe a full chapter with just pirates.
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Happy Shark Week! Remember to hug a shark.
