Hi everyone and thank you so much for waiting so patiently. Work as always has been keeping me on my toes with me trying to write whenever I get the chance and don't feel like I'm rushing. I got to admit I'm kind of proud of this latest chapter and hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I had writing it.

Chapter 8

Helen of Sparta, or as she was more notoriously known as Helen of Troy, made her way down to the deepest reaches of the Other Side by the River Styx. Here, you could hear the wails of the lost souls trapped inside its deep waters and see their hands reaching out desperately but never breaking its surface. It sent shivers through Helen's ghostly form as she saw the trapped spirit of her brother-in-law Agamemnon. His mouth opened in an anguish wail as he reached out desperately to her. Although she knew he couldn't touch her, Helen involuntarily stepped back, and kept close to the cave-like wall away from the edge of the river.

Normally, she would have taken any excuse to be out of the records building, but this one made her want to go back, but she shoved those feelings down. He would not tolerate such thinking, and Helen shuddered at what he would do.

She carried on until she reached her destination, a beach where many other ghosts she recognized from the records and other places on the Other Side who had been paying for their penintence since the day they died. It was risky for so many of them to be meeting all at once, but that's not what frightened Helen the most. What frightened her was the many cages lined up on the edge of the beach where growls could be heard from them, and a figure of a man was standing so close and so casually by them. The glyph markings on his skin marked him as descended from the Isu, but the angry red cross scarred on to his forehead proved him to be Cain, the first murderer after the Great Catastrophe.

He took a step towards the congregation, and the ghosts all fell silent from whatever conversations they were having. There was something about Cain that struck fear into everyone no matter how tough you pretended to be. Cain moved towards them, the ghosts parting for him as he walked through them, glancing at each and every one of them. Helen forced her ghostly form not to shake. She hadn't felt this frightened since the invasion of Troy.

Cain reached the end of the group and stopped. For a long time he just stood there, not looking at anybody.

It unnerved Helen, mentally preparing for the storm about to be unleashed.

"Where is Herod?" the question was asked in a calm tone, but everyone could sense the threat hidden in it.

A man dressed in ancient Roman robes stepped forward, frightened. Helen recognized him as one of Rome's emperors, but couldn't remember which one. "The Angels took him in for questioning."

That wasn't good.

"Did they say why?" Cain asked, still facing away from them.

"Something about a boy named Desmond Miles."

A boy? Why would the Angels concern themselves over a boy? What made him so special? Helen came to attention when Cain finally turned to them. He didn't seem alarmed or concerned. In fact, he seemed… thoughtful. "Then the Assassins have begun their hunt."

The Assassins.

Helen had thought that she saw something earlier that day in the records: the quick shadows and the glimpse of white robes. What most people didn't know was that Helen was gifted with the rare sight of Eagle Vision. Growing up, people had believed her to be the daughter of Zeus instead of King Tyndareus of Sparta because of her gift. No one knew the truth aside from her family until the Cult found her. The leader of the Cult Agamemnon believed that she could be a useful tool for them, and arranged for her to be a part of the Cult by marrying her to his brother Menalaous.

She listened to Cain as he began to talk. "The boy, Desmond Miles comes from the Miles clan of Assassins and Templars. He's not dead, not yet anyway."

Helen could feel everyone's astonishment as well as her own. There was a living boy here on the Other Side! How was that possible?

Somebody asked Cain that same question. In answer, he held up a crystal orb for them all to see. There were confused but curious murmurs. What was it?"

"This is the Orb of Eden," Cain explained. "An artifact that the Isu created to communicate with the dead or cheat it. The boy, Desmond triggered it, and it sent him here to the Other Side without even realizing what he was doing."

"A boy?" a man, Crawford Starrick, Helen remembered, scoffed. "How does a boy use a Piece of Eden?"

Cain turned to him with a dark look that made the former Victorian Templar Grandmaster shrink back. "This boy comes from a strong bloodline of Assassins who have hunted many of you down, and killed you and what you'd hope to achieve. They've destroyed and rebuilt nations, killed many people, and hidden Pieces of Eden we would use to help the world, to make life better. He comes from the bloodline of the misthios, Kassandra herself who destroyed the Cult of Kosmos. His blood is as strong as her's, maybe even more. That's who this boy is," Cain told them all.

There were fearful murmurs among them.

Helen remembered in her own time when she found out that she wasn't the only person to have the special gift. Achilles himself had it, Prince Hector of Troy had it, and she suspected that her cousin Penelope's husband, King Odysseus of Ithaca himself had it. Such gifts made one powerful when compared to a normal person, and could make them a dangerous enemy. That's why the Cult had made it their business to have anyone with that kind of gift be in their power. Helen had truly believed that the Cult was meant to help the world when she married at a time of civil war. It's why she agreed to her brother-in-law's plan to sneak aboard Paris of Troy's ship. Stealing the wife of a powerful king would incite war on the nation of Troy, whose crown prince had refused to yield to the Cult. What Helen had not counted on was to actually fall for the kind and charming Paris who showed her his family and beloved Troy. She met Hector, a devoted son, brother, husband, and father to his family, and devoted leader to his people. She saw Troy, a nation of open-minded and passionate people. Helen realized how happy she was, out from under the Cult's thumb, seeing the beauty of Troy, knowing and being part of a loving family, until the Cult arrived. Ten years of war saw to the deaths of Hector and Paris, and many other good men and women. Helen remembered brave and fierce Andromache and cold Cassandra subdued when Agamemnon and his men killed their family and forced themselves upon the Trojan princesses. Helen didn't feel any satisfaction from the praise Agamemnon and Menalaous had given her on their way back to Sparta. It was there Helen had learned that in order to consolidate his control of the Cult, Agamemnon had killed Helen's niece, his own daughter Iphigenia to show his own power. When they returned, Helen's sister and Agamemnon's wife Clytemnestra waited for them and stabbed Agamemnon to death. By then, Helen had left all faith she ever had in the Cult. Since her death she had been paying penintence for the part she had played in the Trojan War until she would be allowed to see her family and loved ones again.

"This Orb of Eden," Cain said, holding the said orb high. "Is our ticket back to the Living World. No more paying penintence for thousands of years in this hellhole. If we can't go to the Afterlife, we shall return to the Living World and take back what should have been ours. In two days time the Orb will grant us that."

There was a roar of approval from the ghosts until Rodrigo Borgia spoke up. "But what of the Assassins? What if they get their hands on the Orb?"

Cain's smile was so sinister it sent chills down everyone's form. "I will ensure that the Assassin's never have the opportunity to find it before then. They will have other things to worry about."

He turned to the cage behind him. "Isn't that right, my pet?"

Loud growls roared from the cage and dark clawed hands came and wrapped themselves around the cage bars.

Everyone took several steps back away from the cage and Cain in fear. Among Helen's people the creature in that cage was called Baboulas, but to many others it was known as the nightmare, Bogeyman.

An ominous feeling filled the air with the monster's growls and Cain's malicious laughter.

000{{*}}000

Bayek, Altair, Ezio, and Connor entered the Universal Library.

Bayek had never been much of a scholar in his own time. Sure, he had a healthy thirst for knowledge of the history and culture of his country and family heritage, but nothing like his studious wife had been back in the day. Still, he was amazed by the vast amount of books kept on shelves hundreds of feet high.

Ezio and Connor looked on in awe and wonderment as they took in everything while Altair stood next to Bayek, smirking at them in amusement. "Amunet, Evie, and I have spent centuries perusing the library and still feel as if we didn't put a dent to the ones stored here."

Bayek chuckled. "Come, let's find this Herodotus."

The four Assassins continued on, going deeper into the library and passing people lost in reading books from the past.

"So what do you know about Herodotus?" Ezio asked Altair.

"A little from what I've heard whenever I would come here over the years. Like Leonardo said, he lived in the 400s BCE around the time of the Greco-Persian wars and the war between Sparta and Athens. In his lifetime, many considered his stories too mythical due to him telling of sea monsters and magical objects."

"Pieces of Eden," Connor spoke up.

Altair nodded. "I believe so. Problem is that Herodotus is in a place only Angels are allowed in."

"Wouldn't be the first time we had to sneak in and talk to someone," Ezio muttered.

Using their Eagle Vision, they found a door glowing gold and knew that was where Herodotus was at. Unfortunately, there were two Angels guarding it.

"We can't attack them," Bayek said. "That will bring us trouble which we don't have time for."

"Then we'll have to distract them. Ezio and I will do that while you two go and find Herodotus," Connor told them.

Connor and Ezio moved closer to the center of the library while Altair and Bayek reached a corner, trying to look conspicuous while also keeping an eye on the door. The Italian and Native American had nearly reached the center of the room when Ezio suddenly grabbed Connor's and turned him around roughly. "What did you just say?!"

Many shushed at them while the Angels focused their attention on them. Their argument gave Bayek and Altair the chance to sneak behind the Angels and enter through the door.

There were dozens upon dozens of filing cabinets in the room and endless piles of paper stacks. They carefully maneuvered around them, making sure not to disturb anything. The room was lit not by torches or oil lamps, but the new devices called light bulbs which helped them in not stumbling in the dark. Bayek used his Eagle Vision to search for Herodotus and saw a golden figure further back. They headed towards it, Altair making sure that there weren't any Angels or ghosts who would see or disturb them. The figure was a man they realized must be Herodotus. However, he was too occupied looking down at a basin and writing things down.

As they approached the man, Bayek looked towards the basin to see what was in it. There was water in it that showed the image of a debate between American presidential candidates George W. Bush and Al Gore. He remembered hearing his descendant Elizabeth and her husband William discussing it many times. It was a big cause of concern between the Assassins and Templars. The election was nearing and causing a great deal of stress on everyone.

Bayek tapped Herodotus' shoulder and the man jumped, but thankfully didn't cry out.

He turned around and saw them, his eyes going wide before relaxing into a smile. "I'd ask how you got in here, but I think I already know the answer," he chuckled.

Bayek found himself grinning even if he was a little confused by the reception.

"We need your help," Altair said.

Like Leonardo, they explained the situation of Desmond, Cain, and the Orb of Eden. They didn't know this Herodotus. All they had were rumors of him, and da Vinci's reassurance that he could be trusted, and yet there was something about him that made the two Assassins trust him. Maybe it was the fact that he didn't seem to be taken aback by them as everyone else would be, or maybe it was the fact that he seemed at peace with himself, as if he knew who he was, and had found his calling unlike every other ghost on the Other Side. He listened carefully to them and frowned in concern.

"This is indeed troubling."

He looked around at the Angels who hadn't noticed them yet, and motioned them to follow him, leaving his work behind. Altair and Bayek followed him deeper into the room, going behind shelves of files and books and hiding them from view.

"Cain's story is something the Angels don't want to be known on the Other Side for fear of others following his example. I myself never learned the true story until I had been working here for centuries," Herodotus explained to them.

"Tell us what you can, so we know what we're up against," Bayek told him.

The historian stopped, and took a book from the shelf, flipping through the pages. "It began with Adam and Eve. When they took an Apple of Eden, they led the humans against the Isu who had enslaved them. The rebellion lasted for a decade until the Great Catastrophe occurred. When the dust settled the numbers of humans and Isu were diminished. To ensure their survival, the humans and the Isu mated with one another to repopulate the earth. Adam and Eve bore many children together. Among those children were Cain and Abel. During the rebuilding, Adam and Eve had found pieces of Eden that had survived the catastrophe. To ensure that no one would ever use such power to control the world again, they placed Abel in charge of guarding the pieces. Cain, who had grown a lust for power, and hearing about the stories of life before the Great Catastrophe, desired to rebuild the world as it had been before which led to him killing Abel, and stealing an Apple of Eden. The people discovered him and stopped him before he could take further action in his plans. As punishment, Adam used the cross that had been one of the Isu's symbols and branded him as a reminder to all and exiled him. Cain continued to plot in his exile. He fathered many children and gathered many followers, and created the Children of Cain, for when they would strike, Cain would regain the Apple of Eden and rule the Earth. He returned and attacked his former family and their people. The war lasted for centuries until Adam and Eve's son Seth killed him in the final conflict. In his final breath, he swore that he would return and that the Earth would be his."

Altair and Bayek absorbed all of this. They had known from the Angels what Cain's plan would be. Herodotus' story confirmed it.

"Do the records tell what methods Cain used to control his children? What tactics he used?" Bayek asked.

Herodotus thought for a second, looking through the pages in the book. "I'm no psychologist, but from what I've gathered, he used all different kinds of methods: fear, intimidation, charm, and the promise of more, and so many others," he answered.

"You said he used his last breath to swear to the world of his return. That proves how arrogant he is, and arrogance leads to mistakes," Altair pointed out.

Herodotus nodded. "It does, but if you Assassins intend to go after him, you should all be informed: Cain's parents were hybrids created by the Isu which makes him much more powerful than the average human. Also, Cain has spent centuries planning his attack on his family. There is no doubt that he has spent all the years since his death planning for when he would get the chance to return to the Living World."

Altair and Bayek nodded and thanked him for his warning, but before they began to leave, Bayek had to ask. "Why are you helping us? You don't know us, and yet you do so even putting yourself at risk with the Angels."

Herodotus smiled. "In my own time, I knew someone similar to you Assassins. She was a great warrior. Strong, cunning, and gifted. She helped end the war tearing my nation apart, and stopped the people orchestrating it. But above all, she was a good friend. A friend who taught me many things just as I taught her. Recording the history of mankind is my true calling, but I have seen the cycle of destruction too many times. If I can help prevent an even greater destruction from happening, I will do so."

The Assassins thanked Herodotus again for his help, and made their way to join the others.

000{{*}}000

Desmond followed Edward, Haytham, Arno, and Jacob back up the stairs they had come down just the night before, and came out onto the front porch of Desmond's house.

The first thing that registered in Desmond's mind was the sunset. He could just make out the orange glow from the trees. Was it really that late? He must have asked it out loud because he heard Arno reach into his coat and pull out a pocket watch. "Half past five o'clock almost," the Frenchman answered.

Whoa. Only twenty-four hours ago, Desmond had been finishing his training exercise. It felt like a lifetime ago.

He suddenly noticed Jack and Mark making their way towards his house, coming up the porch, and he automatically moved to the side without thinking. It was then he realized that they weren't alone. He saw the ghosts of the Frenchwoman and the axeman with a skirt he had bumped into the night before. Assassins, he realized with a couple others, and even a Templar Desmond guessed came from the late 1800s.

The ghosts stopped and stared at Desmond, and he unconsciously moved closer between Edward and Jacob.

The axeman glared at him. "You Lad, have caused quite a bit of trouble," he said in his thick Scottish accent.

Edward placed a hand on Desmond's shoulder. "Tell us something we don't know."

The axeman shook his head and the rest of the ghosts followed Jack and Mark into the Miles house.

Desmond, although he hadn't wanted to come here in the first place, wanted to see what his parents were doing, and went inside. He went towards the living room, and was shocked by what he saw. His mother, Elizabeth Miles was disheveled, so unlike her usual neat and tidy self. Her dark hair was half-way out of its usual braid, her clothes looked as if they had been slept in, and her eyes looked red-rimmed. The backpack he had packed with care was open and all his stuff was scattered on the coffee table. Even his bear, Rocky was laying next to his mother on the couch. Guilt hit Desmond, especially when he realized that his mother was going through his journal.

Jacob sat down next to her, looked at the journal, and grimaced. "Yeesh, you don't hold back do you?"

Desmond winced, the guilt increasing tenfold. As much as he got upset with his parents, he hated seeing his mother cry. He walked up to her and carefully placed his hand on her wrist. "I'm sorry, Mom."

Elizabeth gasped, jerking back and dropping Desmond's journal.

Desmond jumped back too, startled. Did… did she hear him? Feel him?

"Mom?" Desmond asked, hope beginning to build. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked up, surprised to see that it was Haytham who shook his head sadly. Desmond turned back to his mother to see her holding her head.

"You're losing your bloody mind Elizabeth Miles," she whispered.

Desmond felt something wet on his face and realized that he was crying. He tried wiping his face, but he couldn't use his transparent hands so he used his still solid sleeves.

Arno sat on the other side of Elizabeth, sympathy in his features. He leaned closer and spoke softly in her ear. "You should make something for you and Will. Keep up your strength. It will help."

Elizabeth sighed, slapping her hands on her knees before standing up. "I need a break or I'll go insane." With that, she left the room and headed towards the kitchen.

Desmond's jaw dropped. He turned to Arno. "What did you do? How did you do that?"

"I planted a suggestion in her mind. When the livings' guard is down, their minds are susceptible to ghostly interference," Arno explained.

"She heard me. I know she did! I can tell her what's going on."

Edward shook his head. "It doesn't work like that, Desmond. The living and the dead are forbidden from interacting too much. The dead need to move on, and the living have to let go."

Desmond felt more tears and he turned away so his ancestors wouldn't see them.

"What are you saying?!" a furious shout came from his father's study.

Dad? Desmond ran towards it. He couldn't open the door, but he could phase through. His father was in there, standing at his desk, papers scattered, and on the wall was a map of what Desmond recognized as the state of South Dakota with pins surrounding the Black Hills where the Farm was hidden. His father looked like an insane person. He still wore the clothes from the night before, his hair looked as if he had been running his hands through them too many times, and he looked as if he hadn't slept.

Jack and Mark were there along with the ghosts from earlier standing behind them. Desmond assumed that they were either Jack and Mark's ancestors.

"I'm saying Bill, that we've scoured the forest up to a twenty mile radius and have found no tracks other than animals. Your kid's good when he wants to be, I admit that, but not that good. Without his backpack of supplies, he has no food, no freshwater, and no survival equipment. There's barely any edible vegetation to be found this time of year, and even if the kid caught a small animal or stream fish, he would have made a fire to cook it and we've no smoke. Not to mention the wildlife animals that can get to him if the cold doesn't first. I'm sorry, Bill, but on foot and without supplies, there's no way Desmond could have gotten far alive," Jack explained with a heaviness Desmond had never heard from the trainer.

His father looked as if he wanted to jump and attack someone and at the same time looked desperate and defeated. It was a look Desmond had never ever thought he would see on William Miles.

His father suddenly straightened, and looked hard at Jack and Mark. "keep looking. He might have stumbled upon a place we haven't checked yet, and you know how good he is at climbing trees. He wouldn't have to leave tracks."

Jack looked as if he wanted to argue, but Mark beat him to it. "Sir, we barely have an hour of light left before it's dark."

William's glare was one Desmond had seen plenty of times growing up, and knew that Mark was in trouble. "Then you better get to it, Boy. Nobody stops until Desmond is found and brought back safe."

His tone was non argumentative, so Jack and Mark were forced to leave without another word, their ancestors behind them.

Desmond was left with his father and ancestors. His dad collapsed into his chair, hand over his forehead, and a sigh escaped him.

Desmond's mother came into the room carrying a plate with cooked vegetables, venison, and bread.

William looked up at her before lowering his eyes. "I'm not hungry, Elizabeth."

"You need to eat, Will. I haven't seen you eaten all day," she rebuked him.

"Listen to her. She's trying to help," Edward spoke softly into William's ear.

William sighed before sitting up. "Alright," he accepted. Desmond's father dug into the meal, disproving his earlier claim in not being hungry. When his plate was nearly empty, he sat there, staring into nothing until Elizabeth placed a hand on his shoulder. "We'll find him."

William nodded, but his eyes were still bleak.

Desmond wanted to scream "I'm here! I'm right here!" but he knew it wouldn't work. He felt a hand on his shoulder, guiding him out of the study and out of the house, on to the grass surrounding it.

"He cares," Desmond choked out. The hand on his shoulder squeezed, and he realized that it was Jacob's.

"Fathers are hard to understand. My own was such an arse he could give your's a run for his money, but… deep down he cared for me and Evie. I didn't learn that until after he died."

Desmond looked up and saw the understanding in the Victorian Assassin.

"I just wanted to see the world. Stop living in the same cycle over and over again, and see what it is we're supposed to be fighting to protect."

"I know what you mean, Desmond," Edward said. "When I was young I thought the same way. My parents were sheep farmers, but I wanted more. I wanted riches and adventures, and ended up hurting my family. I was never able to truly apologize for the pain I caused them until I came here right before they moved on."

For a long time everyone was quiet.

"The others should be here soon before too long," Arno spoke just to try and break the tension.

"What do we do in the meantime?" Desmond asked, eager for some kind of distraction.

"We could start teaching you how to use a hidden blade," Edward suggested, pointing to the one on Desmond's arm. "I know today's Assassins don't use them like they use to, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't know how to use them."

"How does it work by the way?" Desmond asked, looking at the Hidden Blade on his arm.

"Over the years, the Hidden Blade has been developed by the Assassins. Originally, it required moving your ring finger so it wouldn't get in the way of the blade," Arno explained. Desmond's eyes widened in alarm, causing his ancestor to chuckle. "Don't worry. Altair made certain to develop the design in his own time so people wouldn't have to keep cutting their fingers off."

"But before that, the Hidden Blade required a 'flick of the wrist,'" Edward explained as he held out his arm where his own hidden blade was. "By my time, the blade was developed to where you could trigger it with a clenched fist."

He demonstrated this to Desmond, and the blade went out with a snick. Desmond's eyes widened, looking at it in awe. "Whoa."

Edward grinned. "Now you try."

Desmond moved his arm, trying to copy what Edward had done, but Haytham stopped him. "Make sure you pull your hand back."

Desmond followed his instruction and clenched his fist. Nothing happened. "Really clench it," Jacob told him.

It took several tries, but then he felt his wrist muscles press against something, and the blade slipped out with a snick just like Edward's. Desmond jumped, but found himself grinning. "Neat." He suddenly remembered his father carrying a more modern bracer on both of his arms, and his stern warning to Desmond not to touch them. Now he knew why. He looked up and saw his ancestors matching his grin, even Haytham's lips were quirked upwards. He relaxed his wrist and the blade slicked back in.

"You have Ezio's original design of it, but the Hidden Blade was developed into numerous designs to help with assassinations. For instance, the 18th century French brotherhood was fond of a design that inspired the Phantom Blade," Arno explained, showing his own bracer, slightly different from Edward's.

"Cool. What's it do?" Desmond asked as he took hold of Desmond's arm to inspect it.

"Wait! Desmond don't-!" Arno tried to warn but was too late as Desmond accidentally triggered the Phantom Blade.

A dart shot out, and Haytham barely dodged it before it embedded itself into the pole right behind him. The Templar glared at Arno and Desmond while Jacob laughed. "Told ya he makes a natural Assassin."

"Sorry," Desmond apologized.

"Perhaps we should train Desmond in something else before we show him how to use a hidden blade," Haytham suggested with narrowed eyes.

"Of course, Grandmaster," Jacob said in an oversweet tone before pulling Desmond further into the yard where there was more space.

"No descendant of mine is going to go out on his own without knowing how to take care of himself," he said as they stopped and he took off his top hat. "I'm going to teach you how to be a brawler." He took off what Desmond realized were brass knuckles and anything covering his hands before putting them away in his coat.

"Now… hit me."

He was serious? Desmond fisted his hands like his father had shown him and swung towards Jacob's abdomen.

The Assassin grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back. It hurt, but not badly. As quick as he was put into the lock, Jacob released him.

Desmond looked at him in surprise.

"Don't let your opponent dictate the terms of the fight. Act quick while also studying your opponent's body language. Knowing where your opponent's going to strike next will mean the difference between life or death."

They were words Desmond's father had always told him during spar sessions. Desmond never seriously took them to heart, but now seeing the unusual seriousness in the usual playful Assassin, he knew better now. After all, he knew for certain that Jacob Frye had vast experience in fights and therefore knew exactly what he was talking about.

He got into position and started to fight the Assassin. He easily blocked Desmond's hits, suggesting ways Desmond could improve his strikes. The young boy actually managed to lay a couple of hits before Jacob hit him in the jaw hard enough to make him lose his balance and fall on his behind. Desmond looked up at Jacob, surprised that he didn't hurt as he should.

"I'm dead, Lad. Don't be afraid to let loose on me. I know you can hit harder than that."

He held out his hand and after a second, Desmond took it and allowed Jacob to help him up.

They went back into sparring and for the first time ever, Desmond felt himself having fun in training.

000{{0}}000

So what did you guys think? I felt kind of bad that I couldn't bring Kassandra into the fold so I thought making mentions of her and bringing Herodotus would help. I'll probably do a brief cameo of her sometime in the story ;-). As for the rest of it, what did you guys think?

I got to tell you guys last week while I was at the mall, the costume store had a hidden blade among the costumes and I had to buy it. I've been kind of geeking out of it this week. I'm also planning on going back to the costume store and buying myself an Assassin's Creed costume but I don't know which one: Ezio or Jacob.

Thank you all so much for your support.