New York City, 1828
Matthew supposed that his father's sponsorship had cinched his ascension for him. Did he feel guilty about doing so? Perhaps, but these elections were essentially a gamble for all involved. You had to use all of your best tricks if you wished to come out on top, and Matthew had done just that. Besides, deep down, he knew that he was the best one suited for the role of American Mentor. He was sick of it, personally. The Assassins were doing only half of what they could truly accomplish underneath the wings of all the mentors that had succeeded his father. They had to become more proactive in quick time if they were to crush their enemies for good, as well as eliminate the true problems they should have been focusing on.
For now, he stood in his new office, located in the bustling center of Wall Street – not too far a run on the rooftops from his Manhattan apartment. Ever since the state had completed that big ditch they called the Erie Canal, things had begun to change. Business was starting to boom. More people were being drawn north like flies to the smell of sweets. And more people met more opportunities to expand the power of the Brotherhood.
"Congrats, Matthew." Albert Carver said. "Tell me, old friend, how does all that responsibility now placed upon you feel?"
"To be honest… I feel great." Matthew admitted. "The things I could only look by at in frustration when I was a mere Assassin… now I can finally do something about them now that I am the Mentor. It's going to take long, but I can't wait to embark upon this journey. I'm going to change things, Albert. I'm going to help make this country as great as it really can be – the land of freedom my father had envisioned when he helped spark the Revolution will finally come to life."
"Hmph. Everyone says something along those lines when they become Mentor. Now let's see how well you can actually live up to your promises." A new voice chimed in. David Crockett strolled into the room, holding a case in his hands. He set it upon Matthew's desk. "What you requested we bring to you, Matthew."
"Ah. Looks exactly as I remember it." Matthew said as he opened the case, gazing upon the Black Apple. "It's a pity that my predecessors never chose to fully pursue the potentials offered by this artifact. Just imagine what we could have done with this Apple had we gone beyond the decision to simply study it."
"That sounds like mighty dangerous water you plan to tread, Matthew." David warned him. "This ain't the first time one of your kin has messed around with one of the Apples."
"And yet in spite of what it showed him, my father was able to resist the Apple's allure. I'm no idiot, David. I won't jump into what I plan to do immediately. I'll think it through…"
"It's good thing I know ya well enough to trust what you're saying." David said. "I'd stay to chat a bit more, Matthew, but I have things to do – not just for the Assassins. The life of a Congressman ain't all it's cracked up to be, I tell ya."
"So, Matthew…" Albert turned to him. "Just what do you plan to do?"
"You'll see. Have you ever met my half-sister, Helena Kenway?"
"No, sir. She an Assassin?"
"Yes, recently made part of the Brotherhood. Looking over the information that I have been given ever since I've taken the seat of Mentor, I've been formulating a plan regarding the blasted regions south of the Potomac."
"Do not tell me you wish for me to babysit her."
"Oh, Helena is a fledgling and naïve but she is experienced enough for her age. I think that she will surprise you once you two meet. Albert, I would advise you to move to Norfolk as a preemptive measure."
"What do you want me to do once I'm there?"
"What we've always done. Work in the shadows to beset our enemies. Liberate those who are shackled. Do whatever it takes to further our goals for a better world. Here, this should tell you more in case you begin to tire of my voice." Matthew handed his friend a batch of documents. "Make good use of the allies we have in the Chesapeake, Albert. Now if you excuse me, I would request a bit of privacy. I have a great deal of much to think about."
"As you wish, Matthew." Albert Carver made his exit, all the while making his own plans secret to even Matthew.
"Hmm…" Matthew held the Black Apple in his hands, watching it the red lines glow faintly. "What made you?"
No answer came.
"And what can I do with you?"
Still no answer came.
That night he dreamed strange visions. He was riding upon a horse through a rainy night, through a mountainous terrain. In the distance he saw a light. As he neared the light upon his horse, he saw that it was an inn. He departed from his horse, leaving it behind in the rain, for he saw no stables in which to house it. He opened the door to the inn, and he saw three hooded figures sitting at a table in front of him. Their bodies were pale and ethereal – like the Precursor spirits that had been detailed in his education.
One of them noticed him. They spoke amongst themselves, but loudly enough for Matthew to hear.
"Is he the one?"
"I do not believe it to be him. He is not the one that the architect seeks. He is not to be the guardian of the keyhole."
"But his blood…"
"Yes, his blood will prove useful… the traitor needs what will become of the lineage that he is a part of to free her from her cage… but I suppose that it will also provide a much needed catalyst in the architect's grand plan. He after all, was the first of the fallen and a devious one."
The three turned to him. "Hail, Matthew! Righteous one to become the Rex Mundi!"
"Who… what is Rex Mundi?" Matthew asked them.
"Does it matter? Many have tried to become the legend, whether be it physically or abstractly. After all, deep down, everybody wants to rule the world. We see it in you… the potential. You are the man who shall become a legend… one who will bring about the Golden Age. It has been foretold. The masses shall be yours to command… yours to perfect."
"Command the masses? You must be joking. The Assassins do not control through force." Matthew told them. "What would separate us from the Templars if we began to do that?"
"A noble wish, but think deeply, Matthew. What do you really want? Do you think that this ever could be attained naturally?"
"I can't answer that."
"You will dream every night from now on. Dreams that you will not be able to remember, but will guide you forward nonetheless. Show you what has to be done to bring about a perfect world where there are no Gods and no masters. Some things you must let go of, such as your Creed."
"But the Creed is as vital to the Assassins as water, blood, and air are to life." Matthew insisted.
"It is also a Creed filled with hypocrisies that hinder the Assassins in reaching the true potential of what their Brotherhood can do. It is what has prevented you from truly vanquishing your enemies, the ones of the Cross, from this plane. But we worry not."
"But if I hold the strings of the masses, what will separate me from the Templars?"
"The Templars will never release the strings. But you, Matthew, we know that you will once things have been righted. We know you, Matthew. We know that you shall do what is right for the greater good. Good-bye now, heir of the half-breed, it is time to wake."
Then he woke, confused. He was certain that he had encountered troubling prophecies in his dream. But for some reason, he could not remember what they were. Nevertheless he had little time to dwell on dreams. He was the Assassin Mentor now, and there was much responsibility that was needed of him. It was time to work.
For a better world.
The day of the New Year came and went. Boston, as always, was a nice city that she enjoyed spending her time in, but now that it was a place of permanence for her the times when she was permitted to return to her childhood home were far more sweeter. Helena removed her Assassin hood as she did, letting the winter wind freely blow through her hair. She was nineteen now, an adult on her own. It would be nice to speak with her father again, to sleep in her childhood room once more. There was also the matter of Daniel, but she didn't feel quite right talking to him about it just yet.
Matthew had picked her up with his fellow Assassins in Boston. He'd given the ride back to Davenport. He hadn't exactly been in the mood to speak with her though. He'd sat in the stagecoach for the entire trip while Helena sat outside, working through his piles of papers.
Helena walked into the inn to check on Matthew. There he was speaking with Abigail of all the women in Davenport. Could it be? The thought repulsed her. She did her best not to think about it. She walked near Matthew's table. He had not noticed her. She used all her talents taught to her by Father to blend into the inn's crowd, to get a quick peek of his conversation with her childhood enemy.
"How would you like to visit the Capitol, Abby?" Ugh, could it really be?
"I would not attend his inauguration for all the silk in China, Matthew. I do not see how you could support that man, Andrew Jackson. I know you to be better than the horde of unsophisticated rats that make up the most of his adorers. His presidency may very well be the destruction of civility in this nation as we know it… but tell me, Matthew, what nice things have you brought me this time?"
The conversation lost her interest quickly. She departed the inn, and made her way to the manor. She knocked on the front door to no answer. She was about to pick the lock again when Helena heard an ahem to her side. She turned to see Daniel walking up to her, an axe held in his hands. He'd grown since the day they'd last seen each other.
"Hi, Helena. Um… welcome back." The two friends hugged, and she held onto him a bit longer than she'd like to admit to him.
"Daniel. It's good to see you. Where is my father?"
"He's seeing the gunsmith about having some pistols made for me. He should be preoccupied for a while… so Helena, why don't we head back inside and catch up? He trusts me enough to let me own a key to the place, after all." Daniel took out his key and unlocked the door. He opened the door for Helena, and with a nod of thanks to him, she walked inside.
"Have I told you that you look lovely in your Assassin uniform, Helena?" He complimented her. "Can't wait to finally get my own… your Father saws that I'm almost at the end of my period of training."
"Well, you haven't said that to me personally, but I suppose that enough people have told me that. Of course, they're all Assassins. Most men just stare and consider me peculiar if they can discern my true gender." Helena told him.
"Is that why you cut your hair to that length? A pity. I thought you to be… um, you know… with your hair long."
"Ah, I'd have tied it back, but that's not quite the fashion amongst men nowadays, is it? Most of us lady Assassins learn certain things quickly… such as making one's gender nearly indiscernible or swapping quickly between different clothes to blend in better."
"Sounds like a lot of fun…"
"You bet." Helena said. "You any good with that axe?"
"Well, I suppose that I am adept enough with it. I help cut firewood in my sparetime… for the community."
"Care to fight me?"
"I'd rather talk about certain things with you. But I suppose that I can fit a quick duel into the rest of my day. For your sake, Helena."
"Let's not dawdle then." She opened the secret entrance.
"You've improved tenfold…" Helena complimented Daniel as she picked up her fallen rapier. Their little contest had ended after he'd knocked it from her hands, and after a foiled attempt to disarm him, she had been forced onto the ground at his mercy. "You weren't lying when you said that you'd be out of training soon."
"Thanks, Helena."
"Here." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek, blushing as she did. "Please don't think too much about this, Daniel."
"Don't worry, I won't."
"Wish to play a game of hide and seek next? I want to see how well you can hide yourself…"
"I'd rather have that talk with you…"
"I suppose that we shall have that talk, then. You fulfilled my request, I might as well do the courtesy of fulfilling yours, Daniel."
"Here, Helena…" He handed her a small cup of tea.
"Oh, Daniel, you sweet thing. You didn't even have to…"
"I thought you'd like it. You know how chilly the roads from Boston to Davenport can get, especially with your penchant of sitting on the exterior for the whole trip."
"Well, that tea is going to have to wait." Matthew's voice interrupted them. She hadn't even heard him reenter the manor.
"But…"
"No buts, novice. I'm the Mentor, the man whom those you take orders from will take orders from, and I've decided that I should talk to my sister about certain matters before you can discuss the matters of your ingenuous attraction to each other."
"Fine, but don't be long. I don't wish for her tea to get cold…. Mentor." Matthew took Helena by her arm and led her to their father's room upstairs, where Daniel could not catch peeks of their conversation.
"You know, I'm willing to speak with you and all, but did you have to be so rude towards Daniel?"
"Rude? There's a difference between bluntness and rudeness. People in our profession cannot afford to be coated like sweets."
"So you say, big brother. But what do you have against him? Every time I see you speak to him, you never have anything nice to tell him."
"And why should I? He's not my friend. I speak nicely to you because you are family and a friend. You've proved yourself as well. He hasn't. He's not one of the Brotherhood yet, no matter how well Father says he's been learning."
"I'm just saying that you can afford to be more polite to people you don't know as well as your family and friends, Matthew."
"So you say, my half-sister, but do you have ulterior motives for your demands that I speak politer terms to your friend down there?"
"I'm not in love with him, Matthew. Drop it."
"Hmph. Then why do you look at him the way you do?"
"You know, Matthew, if you're just going to insult the two of us like this, I'm going downstairs for my tea."
"Alright, I'm sorry. I just let myself get carried away with personal matters like these. You and your father… you're the only family I've got on this world. I just want what's best for you and him. Quite frankly, I don't see that anywhere in Daniel. There's just something about Daniel that rubs me the wrong way… if you don't mind me saying this, Helena, I felt the same way about your mother when I met her. You know what your mother was, right?"
"Yes, I know who my Mother was." She then lied, to avoid upsetting him. "Say what you wish about her, Matthew. And I hope that your mind can be changed about Daniel, if you ever get to know him like Father and I have."
"I don't have the time to do that." Matthew said. "But regardless, Helena, I have an offer to make to you. How would you like to travel to Washington, to attend President Jackson's coming inauguration?"
"I'd love to… but weren't you planning to take Ms. Strawbridge from town with you?"
"How on Earth did you hear about th… never mind. She's not interested, let's just say that."
"I don't know if I have the time to do so. My freetime is not unlimited. I'm expected back in Boston soon."
"I've already sent a letter to your overseer in Boston. And I've spoken to Father as well. He gives me the approval to take you south."
"Wait… why?"
"I have plans for you, Helena. I'm certain that you are sick of doing the small work they hand you in Boston. How'd you like to play a role in one of my big plans? Think of it as a family favor…"
"I don't suppose I have the option to decline."
"You're heading to the South regardless of whether you attend the inauguration or not."
"Fine. I'll head to Washington with you. But can I take Daniel along with me?"
"No. And that's final. Go get your tea, Helena."
March 4th, 1829
"Look at the size of that crowd!" Helena exclaimed as she and Matthew observed the mob that was gathering in front of the Capitol building. They were safely out of the bustling commotion below, having climbed up to the top of the building in the early morning before the crowds had begun to gather. But they could hear the noise from the ground – there must be tens of thousands of people down there! All this for one President!
"They love Jackson, and they cried foul when John Adams' boy was elected in his stead for the last presidency. He appeals to them, you know, the common folk. He's the hero that saved New Orleans in the war, and he also has humble beginnings that many can emphasize with. With appeal like that… a man like that could make a fine ally of the Assassins." Matthew told her.
"I recall hearing that when the war had ended, you reported to your superiors that he was of too rough a caliber to be trusted…"
"Yes, but that was long ago. I've had a while to look back at things since then, and we need men like Jackson on our side… lest the Templars get to him first."
"If you say so, Matthew. But it's so unlike you to go back on your prior statements…" Helena told him.
He shushed her. President Jackson was making his way onto the stage. He had not made his way through the crowd. Helena supposed that there probably was a back entrance that he had used, after all, with the jubilance of the crowd and its mass he may not have made it to the Capitol in one piece had he gone directly. Jackson bowed before the people – garnering the heaviest applause she had ever heard. Bliss coursed its way through everyone in the crowd below them, and even when he began his inaugural speech the gleeful uproar continued. When all was said and done, the crowd had begun to surge forward as the President exited.
"Come now, Helena. Let's head to the White House. We'll meet with him there. I am certain that it will be easier to talk with him there, the reception is sure to be more orderly." They made their way through the overjoyed chaos that had consumed the Capitol's grounds and spotted Jackson in the distance galloping away on a White Horse. They had no horses available at this current moment, so they continued the way they had arrived – through the rooftops. Matthew led the way, his half-sister trusting his every step as he led her.
If he had expected that the reception at the White House would be any bit more orderly than the calamity at the Capitol Building, Matthew was sorely proven wrong. Some bright fellow had decided to make the White House's reception open to all, and the scene was suitably chaotic. He saw why folks like that rich Abigail had woe with Jackson's reelection, but he couldn't help but smile at the ecstasy of the crowd, and imagine just what could be accomplished if the Assassins could amass crowds of this magnitude – no, magnitudes even greater. It would be absolutely wonderful.
The front lawn of the White House had been completely consumed by the reveling horde, and it had become clear that there was no enough room inside the White House to fit them all. Even so, it didn't prevent people from trying to make their way inside. They were even smashing and climbing in through the windows. Trying to make his way through the quaking masses, he lost sight of his half-sister. He managed to push his way through to the front door, collapse inside. Absentmindedly, he thought that he was getting too old for this shit.
The disorder, although contained by the walls of the White House, Matthew saw only intensified once he had made it inside. Laughter, cursing, screaming, he heard it all. The powerful tumult was absolutely cacophonous. Everything was being turned upside down. Glass was breaking, plates were being smashed, liquids were being splashed onto whatever dry surfaces were left. Absolute bedlam! He wondered if the President were even still alive in this mess of a house.
"Hey, Matthew!" It was not Helena's voice. Who was this man in front of him in the now-stained and rumpled suit? There was nothing familiar about him. He'd never seen him before in this life.
"I'm sorry?" Matthew questioned him. It was hard to hear his own voice above the noise of the hundreds of people.
"Absolutely beautiful, isn't it, Matthew?"
"I'm sorry, who the hell are you?"
The man looked stunned, almost hurt. "Matthew… don't you remember me? I'm Francis Scott Key. We met during the war! I helped you!"
"Sorry. I can't remember you at all." Matthew said unapologetically and took a glass of alcohol that hadn't been smashed or spilt yet, shoving it into Key's hand. "Here, take this. It'll ease the pain."
He saw a plate shatter at his feet. He looked and saw Helena, whose face was turning light red as she realized that he had noticed.
"Helena… did you just do what I think you did?" He asked her in disbelief.
"Hey, when was I going to get the chance to do that again?"
"Just resist the urge to repeat that. I know you possess a special gift that I don't… why don't you make yourself useful and find the President for me?" He sighed as he kicked the fragments of the china away.
"Fine…" Helena activated her Eagle Vision and led Matthew by his hand. He felt like an infant learning how to walk as she did so. If it weren't for his record of accomplishments compared to her's, he might as well have been.
As the crowd continued to get liquored up and reach new lows, they managed to find Jackson and his entourage trying to make their way through the chaotic halls.
"Hello, President Jackson! Do you remember me?" Matthew asked him.
"Ah… Matthew. I was wondering when I'd see you again." The President said. "Who's the boy with you?"
"Um… this is my half-sister. Helena. She had a bit of a 'mix-up' dressing today. But regardless, President, I must discuss certain matters with you. About the future."
"I suppose that I may grant you the liberty of an audience with me. But now is hardly the time to hold such a conversation. I can hardly hear you myself above this mayhem!"
"Has the staff done anything to disperse these crowds yet?" Matthew asked.
"Hardly! We're moving some of the spirits out to the front lawn, but I doubt that shall be enough to clear out the entire house." One of his entourage unfastened a nearby window.
"Where shall we reconvene then?"
"At Gadsby's Hotel in Alexandria. We can discuss matters there." Jackson climbed out of the window.
"You know, Helena…" Matthew turned to his sister, looking down at her. "Would you care to stay while I run off ahead?"
"Why should I stay put, Matthew?"
"You seem to be enjoying yourself, Helena. Or at least that's what your part in vandalizing this building infers. You need not hear what I talk to Jackson about. Just stay here and enjoy the moment, take a break from the demands of your Assassin lifestyle. When all is said and done, just reconvene with me at Gadby's. I'll talk to you about your new task then. You know the path, right?"
"I suppose it shall be easy enough to find." Helena said to her brother reluctantly.
"Good. I'll see you then." Matthew ducked out of the window. Helena watched out, looking at him walk away with urgent speed. Then she pulled down her hood and walked away, taking a glass of punch as she did.
