"By the time a man realizes that maybe his father was right, he usually has a son who thinks he's wrong."

Charles Wadsworth


"You desire to stay in the 18th century, but to what end?" Juno paced back and forth, "Do not lie to me; I am not blind to what you yearn for."

"Then what am I yearning for, Juno?" Tsipporah sat in the nexus of what should be the captain's quarters. As much as she should be going home to her family, her old life in the 21st century, what harm would it do to stay a couple of timelines behind? Would it produce an imbalance in time should it be done? She had to know. The very contemplation of had always left her sleepless at night. The woman in white knew what the Eyes wanted. She always knew for it was the very reason she cursed her.

"The guardian you were tasked to watch. Simply, that was your mission, so that his descendants may receive the information that he's held. Humans, in time, will create devices that will surely reach to us in the temples that we've scattered across the world. And those who wish to breach our sanctuaries will have no chance—no choice but to abandon their campaign for conquest over the will of humans. The human race will be free should you pass on the message." The novice bit her lip upon being told why she had to go back. It would be selfish to stay, but… but she…

"Even with all the curses you set on me, I cannot alter my decision. If I am really Artemis—if her database is really inside me—can't I just use that to stay and go back to the 21st century whenever I want?"

"Your powers are not yet evolved for such things yet. Do not attempt the impossible, Artemis."

"The impossible is what you've been trying to do as well with those rings of yours and those, too, work in some small way. You think I am just here in the 18th century to follow your orders. I am not. This is where I belong—"

"Because you have found love here more possible than any other time you lived. There are greater things—"

"You had a husband once, Juno! Don't fucking tell me that there are greater things than falling in love because I know sure as hell that it's anything but unsure and impartial. If these things never happened to me… I'd never see my old self again or realize how happy I can be. There has to be a way… please, Juno."

The spirit in white was unmoved, but not without wondering of her follower's words. Yes, she was married once. She was happy once, but to lose it all was the most painful feeling in the world. She even explained the dangers of how the pain will not end should the feelings of affection persist. For a while, the Eyes agreed and never questioned further, but the entire lecture went downhill when she decided to confess the very emotion that might bring about calamity. Even worse, she came together with the guardian one night where her emotions were at the peak of revelation. The Eyes of Aphrodite couldn't resist matching them when the tension fully bled into each other. Juno shook her head. She could not stop the nature of the goddesses. Ziio was no different as she, too, shared not just the abilities of Artemis, but the very database of her—the virgin, the hunter, the healer, and the mother. Every part of Artemis was with them—these humans. Once she saw someone worthy in her eyes, she would trust them, take them—love them. It was inevitable…

"The guardian must prove himself and you must do this as well. Bring the amulet to me once he has destroyed the Templar Order. Returning you to your own time is to preserve our order in time. This needs to be done."

"'Needs to be done'?" she hissed, "No. This is something you basically want. It's you who wants me to be out of the Brotherhood circle because your daughter lost her life defending it and believing in humans to change, and be different—"

"Enough!" Juno's anger stemmed through the nexus, creating a mild shockwave that the novice hoped the other crew members on the other side of the plane couldn't feel. It was quite rare to see her superior like this much like how people who closely knows Connor recognize him to be stoic. The woman's once empty eyes were full with something fierce; it was too shocking to overlook. Juno caught her breath once the novice went blank. "Yes, it is true. Artemis, along with my husband, had such care for the humans, but trying to join them only entangled them into great peril. I cannot bear to lose what is left of her by distorting any order that was left by her. It is the purpose of the Eyes as it is for Aphrodite. I have loved them both."

"You can't lose something so close, Juno. No one can force you to."

"You speak as the guardian would. His ideals are infectious, it seems. Perhaps I should be proud of that. He takes after his own mother who is also a part of Artemis. This makes him a part of the hunter as well. It runs in his blood. Then this path you've followed him on… the negativity has somewhat lost its potential." The novice looked up with a snap, nearly giving herself a whiplash. It sounded almost as if the white spirit wanted to believe in what the novice was saying. Quite comical if she did, especially when she admitted to not having that much interest in what the novice wanted to do once all of this ends. If she returns home, nothing will be in the way, but the novice kept insisting on staying—at least in a way where she won't have to be separated from home. "Complete your task and we shall see what is to be done with you. You hold my daughter's powers—use them well."


The novice snapped from her trance as she sat in the captain's quarters while the ship made its way to Chesapeake Bay. Connor already met up with the Comte. She couldn't help but laugh at the man's ignorance to the young assassin's potential. Theoretically speaking, the Aquila is all he'll need to take down the British fleets. She was told by the first mate that they've eliminated many fleets while she was gone last time. It made her proud of him in a way; knowing that he's even taken control of the waters that were once under Templar influence. Haytham may not have noticed, but she heard him say under his breath of how proud he was of his son—maybe even a little jealous. It made her wonder even more of what he had written in that journal of his. She's not the nosy type, aware that such knowledge was most likely left for his son to read. The suspense in waiting to give it to him was terrible. He entrusted to Angie and no one else. Why?

Once they were at their destination, the crew steeled themselves more than ever. The crates filled to the brim with firearms were ready for use. The cannons had their load close as the crew, too, were ignited more than ever. This naval battle wasn't just going to be for looting. The captain was at the side with his telescope in hand, watching for any offensive. Tsipporah emerged from his quarters, sensing an ill omen. It came to her suddenly, yet she was unsure of what it was.

"Is something the matter?" the captain asked, aware of the girl's presence. She sighed and leaned over on the rail.

"Something, captain," her eyes narrowed, "I don't know what, but something's coming. I will not leave the ship to find out though. A promise is a promise."

Observers were anything but crazy. The sailors knew of this. Their captain was the one with insane ideas for thwarting the enemies until the ocean swallowed their ship whole. The gunnery officers shouted at the top of their lungs that they were ahead just at that moment of ailing premonitions. Connor reciprocated in the heat of shouting orders to battle stations as the men were prepared to defend their ship—their country. Just as the novice went scurrying below deck in aid of carrying the cannon-balls, the captain ordered her to come by his side. She already knew what she was to be told.

"You are to stay in my quarters until the battle is won, understood?" the novice wrinkled her face mildly.

"With all due respect Captain, I will do anything but leave this ship as you ordered before, but what good am I as extra baggage?" he stood his ground as he looked her in the face. His hands were behind his back and his back was straight.

"…"

"Please, captain…" she held determination in her eyes. They were not ones a person would wear to beg, but ones to tell another that they were ready for anything. Connor wanted to cock a smirk for he knew he had the same look in his own strength was being questioned. "Should we board, you are to stay. Kill any man among the enemy who tries to take or loot the Aquila. Is that understood?"

The observer smiled, nodding in his resolve as the captain shrugged her off to get the cannons ready. Obediently, she helped load every last cannon, jumping back and forth across the deck. Even the first mate had to applaud her swiftness overtime. The native woman aboard would not say as much since nothing impresses her in wartime anymore. After seeing her own daughter weep for hours on end and her grandchildren ask of how their father really died, she could no longer find a reason to smile. She allowed the sails to be filled with air, taking in as wind as they could. As the current pushed them forward, the men fired upon the captain's command. The endless flaming hailstorm of the Aquila never seemed to end as the British ships were sunk. The English flags burned, the redcoats scattered on their own man o' wars, and the captains spewing desperate orders. They were certainly no match for the Ghost of the Seas. Aquila's men cheered for her countless victories, still they rigorously run from one end to the other to fire upon other ships without mercy. The integrity, however, was starting to pose as a problem. The British fleets were endless. Even as the men were successful with their swift kills—precise shots—they still were greatly outnumbered. Gradually, this churned a secret of cold frustration in the gut of man. Sailors were feeling antsy.

"My God…" Faulkner bit his tongue, "Where are our blasted reinforcements?!"

"They will come," Connor reassured as he steered, "We must hold bay until they do."

"You sound optimistic, my dear nephew. Maybe they will come just as you imagine they would."

"Do not mock the captain, Aghanashimi," the novice bumped her shoulder crudely, "He is licensed to give orders and even admirals respect another's wishes. Help will come as promised."

"What is this? All of a sudden you obey his orders and fail to argue. How obedient you've become, girl."

"Nice to see you're back to your old self. You can go back to the rum bottle you've crawled out of now." And with that, the elder resorted to a frown. The novice went back to see to the cannons, but realized something that escaped their attention in the midst of the heated battle. They were running out on cannon-fire. Damn, how was this overlooked? The novice leapt her way back to the captain and reported. As usual, he kept his cool. The novice on the other hand wasn't too sure if he was really worried or simply internally screaming because she knew she was doing both.

"You worry too much, observer," he kept his eyes at the horizon. She grimaced as much as possible.

"Sir—"

"Man o' War!" the gunnery men shouted. This was bad. They were getting low on ammunition. Another set of British ships were out for their blood to be offered to the sea in the deepest malice. They would see to it that each and every rebel that dared oppose them would pay. The men fired as much as they could to sink the ships, but once the gunpowder was running low; there was panic to be had. They couldn't afford to lose anymore. Many palms and feet grew cold if not for the fear of death. To lose at such a crucial time… The elder native woman grabbed the arm of the novice, dragging her to be placed before the captain, or so her nephew claimed to be.

"Ratonhnhaké ton, you can use her," she enunciated, "She can stop the ships." Connor knew what she was asking. She had done something risky as such before when she attempted to rescue the elders. It was only for a few hours that she was asleep, but to use her powers recklessly once more. He could not bear the thought of her mind being forever trapped in limbo because of a small favor. His eyes wavered with a maelstrom of emotions. They were all the confirmation the aunt needed. "You cannot just let her collect dust and do nothing. You know she carries the powers of the Great Spirits that guide the earth. You must take advantage of this."

Tsipporah saw it in him—he wouldn't order for such a thing. Juno even told her once that if the guardian is truly different than what most humans predictably are, than he would never take advantage of the opportunity to make use of risky powers such as hers. Artemis' abilities were merciless for she was the hunter. No… not just the hunter. It was all adding up now. What Juno said before…

"He takes after his own mother who is also a part of Artemis. This makes him a part of the hunter as well. It runs in his blood."

"Captain?" the novice took her arm back, "There is another way. There is another way, but I'm gonna need your help."

"What is it, Tsipporah?" these men among them knew of the First Civilization, but what the novice spewed so casually.

"The white spirit of the First Civilization told me that because your mother was an observer that automatically makes you Artemis, too—don't you get it? Ziio is the Mother, I am the Healer, which inherently makes you the—"Cannon-fire from the enemy started to hail on them and the captain ordered for the crew to duck as if they had no choice. The captain pulled the novice closer to him as she continued to explain over the wood splitting and iron flying. "I won't be able to use my powers to hurt anyone anyway, captain because there's only a part of the spirit's power in me, but it's sleeping in you as the Hunter. I need your help if we're to save these men and secure Chesapeake Bay."

"What would you have me do?"

"Give me your hand, for one," she quickly took out a clean knife, hastily swiping the blade against his finger until the red of him dripped from his fingertips. He flinched at the sudden action, nearly stealing back his hand. "Nope. Nope. Nope. I need your blood for a minute." With little discomfiture, she suckled on his naked finger, drinking all the warm liquid that trickled out on his skin before pulling away. Connor was unsure whether this placed him in an awkward position for he was used to her strange tactics as an observer if anything else. The novice still kept herself near to the wooden ground as the cannons still flew about. She was uncertain whether or not this unorthodoxy of an idea was going to work, but she felt something in her churn. The hate, the love, the determination to protect, the overwhelming yearning for peace to rear its head for this nation… was this all Connor's emotions? Even so, she sensed a hint of uncertainty. For someone so stern, he sure repressed a spiral of sentiments within himself. She continued to slink away to the bow until a voice yelled over the majority. She knew better to wait for his permission.

"And what makes you so sure that I will allow you to do something so dangerous, observer?" she cracked a cocky smile.

"You didn't stop me from sucking you off, captain!" she leapt onto the railing, turning to fly to the farthest part of the bow. Luckily, the cannons stopped firing on the ship for that one moment. It provided little solace to the men when it ceased. The novice did not care. They must be dealt with. Connor may be the captain, but hell would freeze over before she allowed any more of her friends die. It couldn't happen. Not again. Never again.

"You have to be certain of what you're doing," a voice said, "My son's blood is with you now. Should you flutter or hesitate, you will destroy him."

"If there's something I never forget, Ziio, its spells." There was no one there, yet it sounded so vivid in its speech as if she was really there. For once, Connor felt it, too; the presence of a kindred spirit. The enemy ships looked ready once more. They had more weaponry at their disposal. Tsipporah stared out, unblinking, folding her hands…

Kuwata tsunowo vralai, tsuriji pfuralekai,

kwondzuvai undovartsu wronduwail,

Tjortetei jeki liago, Jiunmata ivelischpfuli,

neftyoma sorepiyamei,

Schijiyako alefni fatalliliya,

Nic'hpisfa unhoreselye,

Otrajain aforeje kurasolda,

Towari hatasei mic'hatasei tsufrallai,

Otrajain aforeje kurasolda,

Towari hatasei mic'hatasei tsufrallai ilja

Before the crew's eyes, the novice's hair—every strand of it—became aglow with a heavy channeling of lightening as the sea around them ceased to rage. As for the British ships, they had fell victim to the ballad's ill-temper. The sailors knew this accursed lyric for it would bring about the animosity of the First Civilization when it was at its worst. For the men that were slain shamefully, for the towns with no militia that had to suffer… it all had come back with a vengeance in her voice. When the novice opened her eyes, the ships were ready to combust around them, so they did. The cannons had backfired on them, causing the ships to burn with haste. Every sudden explosion painted the sky darker and darker with hellish flames and smoke. Tsipporah wobbled a little from the overuse in the Hunter's ability; shocked that so much power had slept under the assassin's skin. Just as she almost fell from the bow, a strong hand reached out and clasped around her wrist as she hung over the edge. The young woman blinked a few times before looking into the face of her savior.

"This is why I asked of you to never use your powers."

"Boss…" her chest heaved with an impenitent smile, "That wasn't my power…" The captain wrinkled his brow as he hoisted her up. Instinctively, she held a tight grip on his collar. He may not have noticed for her face was bowed to her collar, but she was scared out of her mind. Surely, this was not the sort of power meant for her to have, which is why she was the Healer. Connor was still entranced by her last remark.

"What is the meaning of this?"

"Only observers can use the abilities that Those That Came Before had—observers are girls. Ah, worry about the nit-bits later, man. Where's the reinforcements?"

"Aye, but with all the chaos you caused, miss, I don't suppose we'll need them as much," Faulkner felt more or less relieved that the horizon was clear. His nerves were well rested… until another ship appeared on the horizon. No. They weren't ready. The ammunition was out. The novice was exhausted from using another's blood. Aghanashimi took her nephew's shoulder and jerked her head in the direction of the steering wheel. Connor darted his eyes to the side before complying.

"Mr. Faulkner, see that this young woman rests in my quarters."

"You're gonna do something crazy again, aren't you?" the novice asked, deadpanned. Connor said nothing more and got to his feet, heading for the wheel. The crew was a bit puzzled as to what the captain was resolving to do. He took the wheel and spun it sharply towards the direction of the single enemy ship. Waves of the waters they rode seemed to pull them even closer now that the very air ceased to create strong winds. It was of little consequence. The sails had to be open to catch some form of wind. And it did. At the last minute, a rogue wind picked up the sails, pushing the ship even further towards the enemy. The men felt their stomachs churn when they finally caught on to what the captain was doing. He planned to ram the Aquila into the enemy. The only ones who were cool about it were his aunt, his observer, and his first mate. They all braced themselves as the ship impaled into the other's side, signaling the men to board.

Tsipporah could not leave the ship for anything, though. Once the men were out boarding or docking somewhere, she had to remain for the captain to come back—that was his order and her promise. She stayed in the captain's quarters, lying on the bench he would occasionally lay on to rest. His room even smelled like him—the entire greenery of the Frontier. Every time she would be tempted to embrace him, his scent; she would be reminded of that night over and over again. If Angie was right about anything it's that there's always that one person you've been with like never before that you'll never forget. If she left, all of it would haunt her every day—what could have been. She wondered if the spirits were mocking her as many couples in the village fell in love, had intimate engagements, and got married. Already, some had children. It was as if the universe was painfully calling out to her and her alone. As the ruckus sounded outside, she sat wondering how long before the British completely leaves the colonies, the Templars would fall from now and… and if she could…

The novice barely moved as the doors of the room were forcibly opened and the captain entered. She had to admit that that the boarding was pretty quick. All that contemplating only took… what? Only ten minutes of mental montage? The captain shrugged his shoulders, seeing that the observer was still safe, but looked as bored as ever.

"The fleet the Comte has promised has arrived. We must return to New York and meet with him now. Prepare—"he noticed that she barely moved, "If you are still not well, then I suppose Aghanashimi can cover your duties."

"Can I ask you something, Connor?" she abruptly sat up and watched with tired eyes, "Do you… really want me to stay?" His façade remained neutral as he closed the door behind him. She knew him too well by now by his lack of response that he was either thinking about it or he really didn't want to answer. He really didn't want to answer. "I know it's your job to make sure that you kill off the Templars, but you never answer my question at all—"

"I have given you my answer many times before and still you would not accept it. Even if you were to stay, I would not be able to give the both of us time. There is so much to do in the colonies. I cannot spare a moment for anything a… 'significant other' should provide." She gave a gradual, icy stare. "Would it really matter? You will leave once my work is finished. Now, we set sail for New York, I expect you to be ready." She tugged on his hand; the hand that she suckled his blood from. It may have been a while after, but the taste was still fresh. She felt a lot more than what she previously expected. His hopes, his determination, his strength, his love… there was more than what he would allow to show on the surface. His yearning was stronger than what she had expected it to be. Even if there was no time he could give, he still didn't want to lose her whether it is to the Templars, the soldiers, or the end of their journey.

"I know you're not much of a liar. If not that then you sure as hell are hiding."

"I have nothing to hide, Martel," her name was exhaled with such temper.

"Shut up. You want me to stay and that's it. You pretty much think it'll anchor me down with some pressure to stay and you don't want that for me." She knew what she was talking about. It was written in his blood. The assassin turned back to the door, knowing he had other important things to do rather than stay for her bickering. As soon as he reached for the knob, she wedged herself between the two to trouble the way through.

"Don't…" one hand splayed on his chest while the other gripped the door knob, "You think just knowing me isn't enough, do you?" She felt his chest rise a fall in small way as his heated breath crept onto the skin of her hand. It took a lot of restraint to keep from visibly shuddering.

"No, it is not," he finally admitted, "To not have something dear to you for the rest of your life is something more painful than a curse from the spirits. However, I do not want to be selfish of your welfare. You must return home as it is everyone's wishes when this war is done. Despite how I feel about you… I cannot keep you here. You must go back. For both our sakes—if it truly makes you happy." The novice's hand gained more and more pressure from the gravity of his words, lowering until she brought it to her own bosom. She would smile as this was an answer anyone would expect from the boss. Her head unconsciously nodded in understanding.

"Sorry to keep you from captaining the ship. I'm still a little tired. I'll just get out of the way," she felt like an idiot now, asking him heavily as if she expected him to lie, "I won't leave the ship until you come back, okay? Not one fo—"his hand petted the top of her head, feeling at the unruly curls that grew from her scalp. It was a wonder to him if he would admit how he loved to comb his hand through the disheveled, soft locks of hair. It was more a reassurance that he would never antagonize her and that everything was going to be alright. "Connor… what the fuck are you doing? You're being weird again."

"I will go into the fort soon to kill Charles Lee."

"You say this guy's name more than mine. I'm a little jealous." He'd find her quirky remarks mildly amusing, but now was not the time. He had to go back to the wheel. "Boss?" her voice hushed as he brought her body closer to his until he leaned in, innocently bringing their foreheads together.

"I will return shortly," he whispered.

The novice cupped his defined cheek in her hand, curving her neck for her lips to meet his. He didn't let it last, lest it he would drown in the sweetness of it. As strange as it was, her company brought him a rare sense peace before he would leave to slaughter. She moved out of the way of the door for him to go through and—without awareness—a tear rolled down her cheek as he left, closing the door behind him. As she was pressing herself against the cold wood, the ominous premonition crawled under her skin once more. This battle they had fought to keep the Bay secured nearly turned for the worst, but that was hardly a worry anymore. There was something else deep down in her gut telling her something. The novice wondered if it was Ziio trying to communicate. No. If such was the case, then she would've heard her by now. Her voice was always strong and precise. No way could she miss it. Then who was trying to speak to her? Could it be… Artemis…?

….

"You have grown so much, Ratonhnhaké ton," the native woman started, "I know your mother would be proud." He gave a small snort in response that lacked much empathy. If he wanted praise for his progress in this revolution, he'd rather not hear them from his own aunt. His first mate saw it in his face as well as the dragon lady. There was no blame to be had. She had done nothing but baptize him in abuse ever since he was born. The only one to keep a wedge between him and her were the elders and his mother. "I am glad you decided to make use of that girl. You know she is capable of doing more, yet you hesitate to do so. That is why the both of you are a bit better than before, I suppose. Still, she is weak now. Repressing all of that power…"

"If you still consider her weak, Aghanashimi, then prove to me that you can perform her duties better than she—as I ordered you to. You may be a member of my family in our village, but whether here at sea or on land, you will not disrespect my woman and I will not allow it to continue."

"Your 'woman' cannot stay here even if you have imprinted her, boy. It is better to keep the relationship impartial than putting her high on a pedestal." Connor gripped the wheel until the handles began to creak. "Your idiot father was the same with my sister. He thought he could keep her by his side forever, but he would not have the time to raise a family. His work ethic kept him on his toes. Even if they stayed together, it would've been a disaster."

"Aghana—"

"And you think you can just slay Charles Lee and take back all the sentiments that were never there? Just what makes you think your father will accept you with open arms? He's a Templar! He cannot accept you because you are his enemy." She turned on her heel roughly as she went below decks to mind her own business. The crew above made no comment or noise in protest to her attitude, but continued to work as if her words did not get to them. She would always insult the captain. The captain himself would never give into any grievous insult—not even one from his own aunt. However, when it came down to those he valued the most… An obnoxious creak of the door echoed and slammed against the wood of the ship, causing everyone aboard to jump as if they were still under attack.

When they turned their heads for a second, they saw that it was the novice with her brows deeply arched and her nose wrinkled like an agitated beast. The dragon lady thinned her eyes as the novice made her way to the center of the ship. The native woman followed suit. "You will not be here for long and you fail to fulfill your role as the Eyes. You don't use your powers, you are not even welcome in our village, and you shame the honorable spirits by giving into your personal desires. Why don't you hurry up and go back from whence you came?"

"Ah…" the novice gave a tight smile, "That's nice, dragon lady. Now tell me how you really feel."

"You—"

"Yeah, you know what, don't. I don't care if you're Ziio's sister. Let me be the first to say 'go fuck yourself' because all you do is belittle everyone whose related to you or works with you. Now I'll never try to offend my native elders as customs follows, but the last thing I need is some washed up, cranky old bitch telling me off behind my back and rubbing it in my superior's face. Do yourself a favor, Aghanashimi—why don't you camp out in a rum bottle if you don't want to deal with any of us?" The native woman stood still save for her clenched fist trembling furiously as the novice proceeded to turn back to the captain's quarters. She really wanted to get that out of her system for a long time ever since she first met the woman stomping into homestead, poking her down, and dragging Kateri off of the property abrasively. It was always painful to watch. She wouldn't dare lay a hand on her, but something had to be said even if her attitude was improving. Before the novice took the door knob in her hand, there was a mild cheer that swept over the men for her efforts. Even the captain admitted to himself that it was very brave of her to stand up to his raging aunt. He ordered for a 'no sail' as they approached the docks.

"I will go to meet the Comte. Mr. Faulkner, look over the Aquila. Make sure she is well supplied promptly. It will be evening soon, so before I head underground, I will light the signal to shell the fort. Tsipporah." He caught her with her head peeking out of his door and she cracked an innocent smile, attempting to slip back inside through his sixth sense. "Aid in the operation of the cannons, but do not—by any means—leave this ship until I have returned."

"Aye, aye, captain!" she saluted. She kept her stern form until he leapt off the rail of the ship in his standard assassin uniform, looking in her general direction from the side for a moment. It was that distinct second that she felt his concern. He ran off into the crowd, blending in to the naked eye, but she could still see. Every step away from her forced more and more air out of her lungs. She had to shake off the empty feeling to cover the ship's damages, so she had to wait for the men to come back from merchants on other neighboring ships in order to purchase more ammunition amongst other things. What happened out at sea… it made her throat burn that the power of the Hunter was so destructive and it was in Connor's blood this whole time. When materialized into energy, it could sink ships? Perhaps his physical strength isn't the only thing to be feared. The fact that he could take down two men in a hit-and-run, kill five bears in an instant, and lift lumber like paper is impressive, but to have much more energy than her… She sputtered her lips at the thought of him actually needing her for anything.

"Ha, he doesn't need me; that badass motherfucker."

"What's that miss?" the first mate asked with an amused look on his face.

"Nothing. Just that the captain is pretty amazing, isn't he?"

"Of course, Ms. Sipsy, but what I can't muster is to why ye can't stay with him. Even for a tough-skinned lass like ye-self, surely, you would want more than to just be here on the job. The captain even said it himself the last time ye left that you were quite an… 'aesthetically-pleasing' gal." The novice burst out laughing. "Personally, I think he was trying to say that you broke his heart, but his pride as a man wouldn't let him."

"I always thought he was sociopath like me—no, wait, he was. We had a mutual relationship that consisted of me wanting to sock him the balls and him wanting to bash my head on the dining room table; we were the ideal BFF's." Some of the crew cackled at her sarcasm. "Good times. Good times."

"…" Faulkner wondered if they ever made an attempt to go at each other's throats, "Did he…?"

"Yeah, he actually did bash my head on the dining room table after I kicked him in the nuts for stepping on my favorite shoes. I punched him in the chest and he went full macho on me, breaking my back against the table. After that afternoon of domestic destruction, we mildly became the best of friends. Achilles was pissed that we fucked up his dining room more than necessary, though, so we went Boston to go shopping the next day."

"Oh, Christ, you kids…" he shook his head at how casual she told the tale, too.

"Hey, don't judge. He was a strong-ass kid then. I know because I was over 170 lbs. How do you back drop that much weight—"

"No, not that. Just how do you two act so casual about separating a second time after all that's happened?" Tsipporah looked to the side.

"I don't know, Faulkner. That's what scares the shit out of me."


"They say you took down that man-of-war all alone. Perhaps Lafayette did not exaggerate when he spoke of your abilities," the Comte complimented, "As promised, my ships are yours to command. What do you require?"

"Five of them must enter New York's harbor, flying British flags."

"Wait, wait. I thought you might need some pirates killed or goods transported…" the Comte tried to wrap this around his head as much as he could, "And instead you ask for us to, what, shell New York?"

"No. Of course not," still… "Only part of it."

Indeed, it sounded quite radical with the idea of bombarding New York, but it was the price to pray to simply infiltrate this fort. Different and risky tactics had to be performed in order for the day to go "smoothly". Connor explained in detail of what he was to do in order to get inside, thus the fleet was a crucial use. The Comte still didn't follow as much, but a promise is a promise. He shouted orders to his men to ready themselves and they swiftly obeyed. Once everything was to be set, Connor ventured down to the city's underground tunnels to meet with Lafayette as Stephane explained as they met and walked from the docks. The recruit gave a quick look around before giving the young assassin his full attention.

"Where is mademoiselle Martel—the young woman who follows you?"

"She has duties she must tend to. As do we. Are the recruits ready?"

"Yes. They will sweep the militant forces while the fort is bombarded."

They constantly made sure that they weren't being followed save for the recruits watching their backs. As the coast was clear, the two went below the city to meet with Lafayette at last. As the French General greeted the infamous assassin, the native man backed away a little in knowing that the other man meant to get in his personal space as it is in the French custom of greetings. The general didn't take this rejection to heart, however; only directing him down to the tunnels that will lead him to the militant district to creep inside the Templars' fort. With lantern given in hand, he made haste down the dark, damp corridors until he was in the reaches of the restricted areas. Quietly, he allowed his body to walk on air as he moved up to the surface to avoid the risk of his notoriety skyrocketing. Every step was careful, yet swift to bypass the notice of any guards; even as he ran up the fort's lighting tower. He turned his head for a second to see a group of ships flying British flags. Amongst one of them was a design he was all too familiar with—the Aquila—despite it flying the Union flag. He averted his attention, focusing on getting to the top of the tower and once he did, a borrowed branch was taken to take flame from the lantern and was thrown into the beacon. The signal was set. Next, the cannon fire's dying mercy in the form of iron and searing heat. The wind that carried them was no different.

Connor made a leap from the tower into a hay-bale, now that the guards were distracted and dispersed by the rapid assault. Everything was moving as planned, but not what had occurred after. Once he jumped out of the bale, a stray cannon nearly hit him if not for the tower's wall he was close to. It failed to impale him, but the speed and weight that it carried had knocked him to the ground. At first, nothing, so he took the bale cart as support to stand. The pain channeled through his nerves from his head as soon as he strained to get back on his feet. Every object in his sight began to blur and fuse that even his Eagle Vision was utterly disrupted. He muttered to himself to keep away from the guards as he would be finished in such a vulnerable state. He continued with a struggle to keep himself upright, using the walls around him to sustain balance. Many things spun around, but regained some control when he found himself unconsciously at the center at the fort.

"Where are you, Charles?" he grunted, trying his eyes at every corner until a cluttering noise was made behind him.

"Gone." He turned to the source of the voice as much as his ears would let him for even his hearing was disoriented and could barely defend himself. Not even for the punch that landed on him, causing blood to seep out from his nasal cavity. Keeping a short distance, he realized who his attacker was…

"Father…" Haytham resumed his relentless assault, throwing back-handed punches and kneeing Connor in the chest. The young assassin saw that his opponent was indeed more resilient than the others he's fought. He had to use different strategies, so he knocked in the family jewels as a start, which made Haytham cringe—enough as an opening to have the upper hand, if only for a second. Once he had his arm behind him, the man still taunted.

"Come now, you cannot hope to match me, Connor. For all your skills, you're still but a boy—with so much left to learn." And with that, the assassin brandished his hidden-switch blade and buried it into his father's forearm.

"Give me Lee!"

"Impossible," he replied, holding his torn muscle, "He is the promise of a better future. The sheep need a shepherd."

"He has been dismissed and censured. He can do nothing for now."

"A temporary setback. He will be restored," he unsheathed his sword, "The only obstacle left would be the stubbornness of the Observers. If they will not listen to reason—especially the one who commits herself to you—then perhaps we, too, must persist in matters of persuasion." Connor paled if not for the concussion he was presently suffering from. He held his tomahawk in his hand, fearing where Lee may have fled to.

"Where is he?" he charged in with clarity in his blood.

….

The crew loaded the cannons like madmen as the novice kept screeching at them to keep firing on the fort. As she was told, she was not to stop despite her fears creeping under her skin of whether or not the assassin she followed was still in good condition. Her pondering came to an abrupt halt as she felt a heavy wave of confusion consume her. Her head was pounding suddenly and everything began to spin and blur. Every bit of her skull was clawing at her temples. She collapsed in mid-sentence as she repeated orders.

"K…Keep firing…" unwilling tears streamed from her eyes as her vision was swallowed by a mild darkness. Some crewmen including the first mate came to her aid as her eyelids fluttered beyond her control. "D…Didn't you hear m-m-me? I s-s-said…"

"No time for that, miss!" Faulkner placed his hand on her forehead, "The captain must be hurt as well."

"NO!" she sat up recklessly that the dizziness doubled, "He said… he said to keep firing until he comes back. He'll-he'll come back. H-h-h-he said… my head…" the first mate calmed her down and lent his shoulder, bringing her to her feet. Again, she had to stay in the captain's quarters for a while. The novice heard the door close, but the assault continued. And it sounded like it would last for a long time. Perhaps forever. It felt very unsatisfying to be useless once again—to be a sitting duck in the midst of battle, but her head was throbbing fierce in pain. How Connor was managing was a mystery to her. Her questions were gradually answered with the next few surges of pain up her nose. This was stemming from suffering to peeving. He was obviously getting into a brawl for new wounds rapidly appeared on her body. She gave up entirely, closing her eyes to sleep off the whole thing…

The next sound that rang was the cheering of the men out on deck. Tsipporah woke with a start as they cheered for… something. She lifted her hand to rub her eyes, but opening them proved a bit of challenge for they still swayed. Her legs felt heavy, so there was no way she was going to stand on them soon. The least she could do was sat up without so much pain spiking her head, although, she left more or less with a skull-crunching headache. She clutched and pulled at her hair as the throbbing became chronic between few seconds of blinking alone. She forced her eyes to open more to ease her visual.

"I take it that you are well."

"AHH!" she jumped, accidentally bumping her head on the wooden wall behind her, inflicting pain on both of them, "AH, shit! Agh! Uh… Connor! Oh my God!" she threw her arms around his shoulders and realized that they almost butted foreheads again, so she paused in mid-jump. "You're alive! And you came back!"

"I am sorry to have worried you."

"That's okay. There was a shit load of cannons firing. I expected unavoidable injuries at some point. So…" her fingers tapped a rhythm on his shoulder, "Did you do it? Because genetically speaking, I took some of your blood and no doubt some of my DNA rubbed of and the Passage Field would automatically come up. I know Angie spoiled some things about the whole First Civilization and—"

"Tsipporah," he snapped mildly.

"What?" she read his expression, "What is it?"

He looked as if there were words; many words to be said, but he lacked the prudence to speak. He needn't say for she already saw in some context. Disappointment. Still, she did not know what, but knew that something was wrong. His chest was heaving heavily. Instead of thinking hard on the previous events, he faced her with his recent concern.

"The Observers are in danger."

"What?"

"You should hide from prying eyes—you and Emily."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa… why are you telling me this now? We're in a fucking revolution, Connor—this is a war on our own doorstep. There's no rock to hide under in this country. There's no way to avoid open conflict."

"Of course open conflict cannot be avoided. However, all I ask is for you to comply with the given orders." She bowed her head, not wanting to hear any more. "I am glad that you followed my command this time around."

"Why, though? Was something going to happen; because I've had a bad feeling about it ever since we left Chesapeake Bay. You killed Lee, didn't you?"

He didn't reply—only gazed through her as if she was a spirit herself. Once the first mate announced that they were back at the docks of homestead, Connor got on his feet and turned to the door. It swung open and was kept that way, knowing that novice would follow soon after. Soon, everyone was off the Aquila including the dragon lady who bumped the novice's shoulder trailing down the boardwalk. She could care less for that woman's attitude now as she rubbed the sides of her head with the tips of her fingers. Her head still ached from the shell-shock, but that wasn't the only thing bothering her. The young woman worried of why her boss was suddenly being secretive with her—telling her to hide and follow his every word without explanation.

"Sipsy, babe!" Angie amongst some other women waited, greeting Connor as they came up the dirt path. "Hey, boss…" he muttered a greeting, but gave no eye contact, "Okay, then. Hey, Sipsy. What's up with your boyfriend?" She saw how tired her friend was; "And what the hell happened to you? You look like shit."

"Concussion. I'll just check with the doctor, but… Connor wants us to hide now. He-He said we're not safe. I think he may have heard something from the Templars."

"Girl, just check in with Juno. She might collect something from the Passage Logs."

"That requires concentration, Angie and my brain's a fucking pendulum right now."

"I'll take her to the doctor," Ellen offered, "It's the least I could do since you've helped a lot around my shop. Come now." She offered her shoulder and the novice kindly obliged. She was still stumbling with the evening's shade doing her no justice. Angie thanked the others for lending a hand to her friend as well before turning her attention to the Davenport manor. The Observers followed instructions from the First Civilization or from what's left of them. It wasn't exactly in the Brotherhood's say if they were safe or not. They can locate the Pieces of Eden—they would never be safe even in hiding. She sprinted up the road with a leap in her step, passing through the hunting grounds until she was in the manor's view. At this time, the old man would be sleeping and the maid would be out, so—she touched the knob and found that the door was open. Without much care, she entered in, looking out to see for her boss. Her first train of thoughts led her to the basement. Her fingers kept tapping at her satchel she had always carried around. There was something she needed to give him anyway.

"Boss?" she poked her head in, walking down the stairs of the basement until she saw him writing on the wall of the targets, "Boss, you…" Then she saw it. He had marked his father out with an "X" in silence. Upon closer inspection, Charles Lee's portrait remained untouched. It was made clear what had happened. She steadily took out what appeared to be a small booklet.

"So that's why you're being silent. You killed Haytham."

"Charles Lee got away. I cannot afford any more mistakes. If I allow you and Tsipporah to roam free under my command, then there is sure to be bloodshed."

"Boss, if we're never gonna be safe. Even if we could protect ourselves, someday we'll be breached by the enemy. Observers can't protect people and that why there are Assassins."

"You both have countered that fact simply by aiding me and divulging confidential information. You two have made many risks as well in spite of the consequences."

"Well…" she wiped her forehead, "That's because you're worth it… and Sipsy really loves you. Anyway, I… I didn't think you would take this course of action with your father, but remember the night where your village was in danger again? Well, your father passed by—"

"What did he want?" he finally looked into the blonde's face.

"He didn't want anything. Only obligated to give this," she held out a small booklet, "He said if anything happened to him that I should give you this. It's in his family tradition that the fathers of the Kenway line would pass these down to their children in order to know the truth."

"The truth?" he took the book into his hands.

"It's his journal. He wanted you to have it, but it would be best to read it once everything ends, huh? He even told old man Achilles that he's done a better job with you than he would have. Just wanted to let you know, but… Sipsy doesn't know about this, does she? I thought you'd tell her." He gripped the leather book in his hand, allowing the gratifying situation sink in that his father would give him something so personal of his. He should be somewhat grateful, but it is as the blonde claims; he should read it when the revolution has ended.

"Boss, why do you want us to hide now?"

"Because Charles Lee is looking for the both of you right this moment."


Lee's gone and Haytham's dead. Now what's left of the Templars are out to get the Observers by force. Oh, dear... and Connor has Haytham's journal, finally. So now he can understand where his dad was coming from with turning into a Templar the way he did. I really want to get that book. R.I.P. Haytham "Sassy" Kenway :'(

Anyway, just one more day before the DLC comes out. Saw some cool previews and apparently Connor goes on a little drug trip to acquire his powers... sounds great so far. lol

One more chapter left. Better to not go out into open conflict right now, especially when the enemy's threat barely lowered. But... I know some readers are more concerned about whether the OC stays or not. You'll see! :D