July 7th, 1865

Baltimore, Maryland

Dawn

The sky was lightening up by the minute, the darkness giving way to pale grey and eventually to pink. Margaret stared at the quickly fading stars, knowing that this dawn was to be someone's last. Anger roiled through her, hot and pure, when she thought back on the last few years that felt like a lifetime ago.

Four years of bloodshed, thousands of young men lost to eternity all because two people manipulated things behind the scenes in order to gain more power. All those lives taken…. for fleeting power.

But Margaret couldn't forget all the good that happened.

Slavery was finally coming to an end in the South. The new president, former Vice President Andrew Johnson, had placed the South under his control. Congress had passed an Amendment that was to be added to the Constitution once it was ratified that would finally bring an end to slavery. There was talk that there were two more that would be passed and ratified swiftly following the first.

Margaret hoped that, when the sun set later that day, there would be a new world. But something told her that it wouldn't, that things would only get worse.

A knock at the door startled her out of her thoughts. "Enter."

The woman didn't turn around as the door creaked open. "Margaret? Did you…. please tell me you didn't stand there the entire night."

"I couldn't sleep." She answered as she rubbed her eyes. She turned towards her twin. "What is it?"

Henry's expression was somber as he said, "It's time."

Along with their aunt and aging father, the four rode towards the Assassin hideout. Margaret was almost taken aback at the sight of all the hooded men and women strolling into the building. After tying off their horses, and with each sibling helping their aged relatives, the four of them strolled to the back, where makeshift gallows had been built. Margaret couldn't look away from the single noose that was swinging in the small breeze. She started when she felt a hand being placed on her back.

The woman turned towards the comforting gaze of her Father.

"Are you alright, Margaret?" The elder Evert member asked. "You look a little green."

"I'm fine." She sighed. Her eyes caught the executioner preparing himself, which she took that everything was going start soon. "Let's just…. go get our seats."

Monsieur Ambrose, who had taken it upon himself to act as interim leader until the Assassin Council could vote on a new leader, stood on top of the gallows with a somber expression with a rolled piece of parchment tucked underneath his arm. The Everts family took their seats, a prime spot that was situated on the upper level of the platform that was erected to accommodate the many Assassins that came to watch the execution.

The place was packed to the rafters.

Not since Al-Mualim had there been a Mentor who betrayed the Assassins so openly.

The morbidly excited whispers died down when drums sounded throughout the execution courtyard. Everyone watched as a pale and haggard looking Kellan was marched out to the streets, surrounded by her own Assassin guard. Margaret had never seen Mentor Kellan more pitiful in her life.

She hadn't seen the sun in more than a month and she had been locked in a cell, only to be taken out for the few times the jury wished to speak with her.

The woman's hair was pulled back haphazardly and when she stepped out into the sunlight, Kellan winced and moved to shield her eyes, only to be shoved forward by the guards.

There was an almost reverent silence, broken only by the beating of the drum.

When the group reached the top of the platform, the drums stopped and Monsieur Ambrose unrolled his scroll. Everyone, even Margaret, leaned forward in their seats as one to hear what the temporary leader of the North American Assassins had to say.

"Elizabeth Kellan, you have been charged with treason, betrayal, and breaking the three tenets that have been the foundation of the Brotherhood for countless centuries, to which you have pleaded guilty to all. In accordance with the laws set by our ancestors, you have been stripped of your title as Mentor and for your crimes to conspire against the United States of America and Her government, as well as consorting with our ancient enemy the Templars, have been sentenced to death by hanging. Have you any last words?"

There was a pause that permeated the courtyard before Kellan spoke, "What I have done will no doubt live on in infamy, painted in a darkened light. But I did everything for the good of this country and for the good of the Brotherhood. My only regret is that I got caught."

After a few moments of silence, Kellan turned towards the noose. Monsieur Ambrose nodded to the hooded executioner. Margaret had to cling to her father's hand to ground herself and to keep from launching over the railing and kill the woman who took her husband from her.

The executioner robotically secured the noose around the neck of Kellan. As much as Margaret hated to admit it, the woman found herself admiring Kellan for putting on a brave and defiant attitude in the face of death.

All that respect went out the window when she saw the smugness that was on full display for the world to see. It certainly was there when Margaret and Kellan locked eyes.

Fortunately, that look didn't last long.

The Executioner, after one final check to see if the noose was tight enough, walked over to the lever. Margaret held the gaze defiantly, but squeezing tighter on the grip, which her father returned. Her heart was pound as the drums picked up the cadence again. There was a beat of silence so tense you could've cut it with an army sabre as the executioner pulled the leaver.

The trapdoor beneath Kellan's feet gave way.

That smugness didn't disappear as the woman dropped, the noose around her neck being the only thing to catch her.

Margaret felt ashamed that she turned away when the rope went taut and the mentor's strained gurgling could be heard. After a moment, Margaret turned back towards the hanging mentor, watching the woman she had looked up to and idolized all her life swing and kick and spasm until she went slack. Her eyes had still been open when the noose started to strangle her but when Margaret connected with them the moment the spasming stopped, she watched as the light of life slowly started to drain.

The only sound anywhere in the courtyard was the straining of the rope.

After another fifteen minutes of watching in silence, the crowds began to disperse with some level of conversation being picked up where it was left. All Margaret could do was sit there and watch the vessel that used to be Kellan swing back and forth as several of the Assassin guardsmen readied to cut her down and bury her.

"-gret?"

That jostled her out of her thoughts. "Yes, Father?"

"Are you alright?"

She smiled softly. "I'm fine. I…...I just want to go."

"Very well." He gestured to the exit way. "Come. Let's get home so you can prepare to leave."

The four of them started to make their way towards the exit, only to be stopped when they heard Monsieur Ambrose calling her name.

"Ah! Monsieur and Mademoiselle Everts!" Monsieur Ambrose took a deep bow when he noticed Margaret's father and aunt. "It is an honor to finally make your acquaintance."

"Likewise, Monsieur." Aunt Cordelia bobbed her head. She waved around with her hand in a gentle motion. "Quite the spectacle you put on."

"Not my intention. I simply wanted justice done."

"And it has." Michael Everts stated with a tone that said he was disgusted with the way that justice had been dished out. "I just pray that the Assassins and the country can managed to heal."

Monsieur Ambrose nodded in agreement. He lowered his voice as he said, "I received word that Booth's co-conspirators were executed right as the same time as Me-uh, former Mentor Kellan was. President Johnson has already moved to stitch the US back together, though only time will tell how that will go."

"I pray that everything goes smoothly for the Vice President."

"Bien sûr." His attention went to Margaret and Henry. "The Assassin Council has decided to send several trusted members to certain points in the Old Confederacy to help root out any lingering Templar control while the Federal Government tries to put in place a fairer government. One that is built on equality for all. Monsieur Henry, your name has come up."

"Thank you, Monsieur Ambrose. I do intend to take the position once I settle all my business in Baltimore."

"And Margaret, you have been nominated to lead the Assassin into an era of peace."

It was such bombshell news, but she wasn't surprised in the very least. She heard the whispered rumors during the trial but no one was really willing to talk about that out loud. It was such bad manners to discuss who would fill the most demanding role given to an Assassin while the former was still being tried.

Her family looked at her with such pride in their eyes which is why it hurt so much for her to say, "Thank you for informing me, Monsieur. But if it's all the same with you, I think I am going to live out the rest of my life with my family. I have already missed so much of my children's lives already. It would not do me justice as a mother if I miss anymore."

It was surprising to see Monsieur Ambrose smile gently. "Then I wish you and your family every good fortune."

"Thank you."

The four left the Assassin hideout, their mood somber and depressive.

A very stark contrast to the city that was very much alive and in a celebratory mood. The family traveled back to Cordelia's estate, where Miriam and her husband, newly freed, welcomed them. They had also heard the news that the co-conspirators had been executed and had seen it as a sign that things were finally going to look up for their people. As soon as supper was made, Margaret was packed and ready to go home.

"Good luck with that new position, Henry." She bid, pulling her second half into a hug. "Promise me that you'll write to me everyday and that you won't make stupid decisions."

"I can only promise to do one of those things." He held his hand up as if in oath, though there was a clear light of teasing. Margaret rolled her eyes before she turned towards her Father and Aunt. She could see pride shining in her father's steel grey eyes. She rushed forward and threw her arms around the man, careful of how frail his once-strong body was.

"Your mother would be so proud." He whispered. Margaret just inhaled his scent, trying not to cry as she separated from him.

"Give my love to my great-nephews and niece." Aunt Cordelia requested as she clutched Miriam's supporting hand. "And tell them that next time I'll visit, I'll bring them gifts."

Margaret laughed. "Just try not to spoil them."

"I make no promises."

The somber mood was back until Miriam said, "May the Eagle watch over you, Margaret."

The others echoed that sentiment as Margaret nodded her head. She directed her horse towards the street and with a gently kick to the ribs, she took off at a gentle gallop towards New York.

Towards home.