We moved to an isolated location, using primarily the trees due to the fresh snow that had piled up over night. He moved much more elegantly from branch to branch than I did. It looked so natural for him, and the years of practice I knew he'd had were shining through.

When we dropped to the forest floor, in an area far from the roads or any people, I paced.

"So, Achilles told you nothing of what happened to make the Brotherhood in the colonies so weak?" I asked.

Connor shook his head, eyes following me. "No. What happened?"

I sighed and ran my gloved hands down my face. "It all started with two artifacts, a manuscript and a box. They were left by Those Who Came Before. They were once used by the Assassins in Haiti in the year 1751 to discover the location of a temple near Port-Au-Prince. When they attempted to take the artifact of Eden hidden there, it triggered a catastrophic earthquake that resulted in… well, a lot of people died in that and the massive sea wave that followed it.

"The Assassins that were sent there were killed by a Templar, who then took the artifacts. The Assassin-ex-Assassin, now-Shay Cormac recovered them at the behest of Achilles between 1752 and 1754. They were then used to discover another location-Lisbon. Achilles sent Shay to investigate the temple there." I stopped. Connor was staring at me, not moving a single muscle. I continued.

"The same thing happened, and Achilles refused to believe Shay and wanted to continue using the artifacts by the time the latter returned. Shay stole the manuscript and defected after a chase through this same homestead." I gestured all around us. "He was injured in the process, and fell to the water in the harbor." It felt strange, telling Connor of what had happened here years ago.

"He was rescued by the Templars, and later assisted them in wiping out the Assassin Brotherhood here in the colonies, as they still were trying to mess with the temples-one more was destroyed in Antarctica during a skirmish between the Achilles and Liam O'Brien-the last high-ranked colonial Assassins left alive-and Shay and Haytham. Achilles was only spared because Shay stopped Haytham from killing him." I paused. "He still shot him in the knee, though."

Connor was dead silent, processing all that I had told him. Then, "Why did he not tell me about this?"

I shrugged, keeping any snide remarks to myself. "I guess he didn't want you to think ill of him or the Brotherhood."

"Why are you telling me this?" His voice was quiet, but his fists were clenching.

"Because you, of everyone, need to know that neither the Assassins nor Templars are all good or bad. There's a war coming, and the only way that things will end well is if both sides learn to work together." I said, much more quietly than usual. I hoped my voice carried the weight I needed it to.

Connor let out a growl, and I was reminded that his temper could be as short as his father's, at times. "The man I have listened to for the past four years- he was responsible for the destruction of… He kept that from me, so I would listen to him? And now, you-someone who has no business even being in this time-, you are telling me about this?" He was positively livid. I stayed where I was; I wasn't sure he'd react well to my attempts to comfort him, seeing as we were both strangers, still.

"What's happened can't be changed. But we can try to move past it." I paused to gauge his reaction. He was still angry, but he was listening. "In the timeline I came from, you carried out a purge of Templars not unlike Shay's purge of the Assassins. We don't need that. What we need is for you and your father to try to work together. For everyone's sake. For your people's sake." That was why he was in this, right? He'd become an Assassin because Juno had told him the Assassins would help him protect his people. He was quiet for several minutes. His breathing was deep, shaking. He calmed down slightly, and gave me an answer that was better than no, but not quite what I was hoping for.

"I will consider what you have told me."

I spent the rest of the day avoiding glares from Achilles and reading in the warm confines of his manor. Connor was gone the entire time, and hadn't returned by dark. I offered to help Achilles prepare supper, and though we were far from being friends, he accepted my offer. The only words we spoke after that were brief requests for something to be passed. Beyond that, he gave me the cold shoulder. I couldn't very well blame him; I'd brought up quite possibly his biggest failure, and used it to make his enemies look better-or at least on the same level as his own side.

Trudging up the stairs later that night, I felt drained.

I grabbed a folded, mostly decorative cover from another couch, and wrapped myself in it as I tried to go to sleep. I watched delicate little spots of white drift down to the ground through the window for a couple hours, barely able to see them by the light of the moon.

My rest that night wasn't as sound as I'd have liked it to be. Memories of my life before arriving in the colonies plagued me. Words from my mother, abstract amalgamations of the hundred different types of pressure that had been pressed on me throughout a childhood spent alone and depressed. I'd only experienced the nightmares when I was stressed over last few months, but they were the same ones I'd had before I'd come here.

I finally gave up on sleep. It was too early an hour for me to be moving about the house, and instead, I simply sat alone with my thoughts.

It was for that reason that I heard the creaking of the front door when Connor returned.

I heard him walk up the stairs, and he forewent his room in favor of the one I was staying in. I looked at him, and he looked at me.

We didn't say any words for a long moment. Then, he spoke six simple words in his usual, monotone voice.

"I will do as you ask."