September 1862

Location unknown

Henry Philip Everts woke to the sounds of birds greeting the new dawn with an enthusiasm that was unrivaled.

And he hated those damned creatures with every fiber of his being.

All he wanted to do was curl back underneath the blankets and savor the warmth.

But he couldn't. Unfortunately.

Henry slowly rolled out of his cot, staring at the sun with eyes that were trying to see into the past that felt far too distant despite it only being two years.

Two years, two long years, into this conflict and already the cost was high. The first few major battles had the Federal Army underestimating the rebels, and at a great cost.

He was there at the First Battle of Bull Run back in July of 1861. He remembered what a disaster the initial attack was on both sides, and the people who had come to watch the battle, hoping it to be the one and only battle they would hear about. He could still hear the horrified screams that had pierced the air when the civilians finally realized that Federal Soldiers were retreating, with the rebel army right behind them.

He recalled a story that his grandfather, James, would tell him when he and his sister were younger. The man had fought in the War of 1812, and heard the screams of his fellow soldiers, the dead and dying, in his sleep years after until he had passed. Henry remembered that the man would tell him that war wasn't all that it was cracked up to be. It wasn't the glory-filled, honorable thing that everyone made it out to be.

It was nothing but justifiable murder.

Not that Henry had delusions of glory in war. He was an Assassin after all.

Those beliefs of war being glorious and the chance of honor were squashed within the first month of Assassin training.

But the battles that he had witnessed…

Men blown to pieces by the cannons. Some losing limbs, or having some major disfigurement that would affect the rest of their lives. Many dying by infections, starvation or fever.

It was enough to make any man's stomach turn sickeningly.

As the sun continued to burn away the nightly mist and beat back the chill that lingered, Henry quickly gathered his things and thoughts. He saddled his horse, preparing himself for a long day of trailing behind the Federal Army. His sister was supposed to rendezvous with him soon at a place that was a little way from where he was. She had been able to wait until the conflict escalated beyond peaceful agreements before being drawn in. So far, the Assassins, with members placed within the ranks of both armies to keeps tabs on the movements more discreetly, had lost just as much as the rebels and Federal Army. Mentor Kellan hoped to withdraw the Assassins from the conflict, but with the Templars pulling the strings for the side of the South, the Council had voted to remain and she had no choice but to follow the wills of the Council.

Henry mounted his horse and directed towards the Federal encampment not far from him. He glanced down at his Assassin robes, not too dissimilar to the Federal soldiers in style and color, before pulling the hood up over his features.

The man traveled well past noon. He sat on a ridge, overlooking the camp in a place where no one would be able to see him but where he could see the entire camp with ease. He watched the men in navy blue as they moved in sync, practicing their drills and maneuvers before, at some point in the afternoon, started to pack up camp.

"Brother."

Henry glanced over at his sister, who, sitting upon a cream-colored mare, looked like a war goddess of times gone by, with a smirk.

"Where are we going?" She asked. Like him, she noticed how the men packed up their things. He shifted in the saddle before speaking.

"Word has it that General Lee is heading to Maryland, in hopes to try for an invasion of the North." Henry had to pull his horse back, the stallion no doubt picking up on his uneasiness and anxiety. "Rumor is the rebels will try to come through Sharpsburg. The Federal Army will march two-days-time in order to meet them there and stop them."

There was silence before Margaret said, "Lee can't push through. Not unless he has the element of surprise, which, if the Feds are moving to intercept, they don't. Not to mention the massive force they're gathering here that they wouldn't dare to attack."

"I know." Henry cracked a smile despite the seriousness. "Too bad we don't have an Artefact, ey sister? Be easy pickings and a quick victory."

Margaret cracked a small smile before turning her horse around and making for the bottom of the ridge.

And so, began a grueling two and a half days of riding. They made sure to stay a couple of miles behind the Federal Army so the outer patrol wouldn't spot them. The siblings made small talk around the campfire, carefully avoiding topics such as Henry's nieces and nephews. He knew his sister was still a bit sore about the fact that she had to leave her children and husband.

But she had a duty to fulfill, as did Henry.

The soldiers traveled well through the day and almost two hours after sunset at the end of the first day. It wasn't until a storm broke overhead that the regiment that they were following stopped to make camp. The siblings did the same, though they're camp was sitting just outside the scouts' range of looking.

It was a miserable night, as they dared not light a fire for fear of attracting Federal scouts to their position like a moth. The two were lying on separate cots underneath the same tent in silence as the rain pitter-pattered on the cover.

"How long do you think that the war will last?"

Seeing how his sister hadn't spoken all day, Henry was quite surprised at the question. But he kept his surprise to a minimum. He took a deep breath.

"I think when the Templars can't squeeze any more support or money from the South."

There was a silence from his sister before, "What if…...what if the cost isn't worth?"

Henry half sat up, his eyes trying to pierce through the darkness. "Of course, it's worth it, Maggie. We, as well as everyone in the army a couple miles away from us, fight for the freedom of everyone. Not just those who have been used as pawns in the Templar's game, but for the slaves."

"The Templars won't give their power up, even when the cries of the people become deafening." Margaret whispered. "I fear for the outcome of this war. Not the freedom of the slaves but the rift that will form. The Templars have dragged innocence lives into something that deserves to be hidden deeply within the shadows and cut this country so deeply in half that it will take decades to repair. It seems that this time, the Assassins are no different."

Henry worried about his sister's view. He knew that she knew that this war was not just for bringing this country back together but also the freedom of the people in bondage. But she also, like him, had seen a lot of bloodshed.

This was going to be a very long war indeed.

X

The second day on the road found the siblings braving closer to the federal troops as they drew ever closer to Sharpsburg. Henry had to keep Margaret from fulling merging with the rear battalion. If they were to help out, they needed not be in chains during the battle.

Finally, on the seventeenth day of September, the Federal and rebel army met in Sharpsburg. Henry and Margaret waited, trying to stay as onlookers, until during the most chaotic period of the battle, Margaret urged her horse forward without thinking. Henry blinked in shock before following, hoping to keep his sister from being killed by her foolish actions. Not a shock to him, his horse was shot out from underneath him. He was forced on foot, weaving in between the scared and confused lines of soldiers. No one paid him any heed as he moved through their lines.

No one looked closer at the hooded, weaponless soldier that moved like a shadow through their lines while they themselves struggled to stay alive in the minefield of shells and grapeshots.

Henry spotted his sister, standing over a wounded man with her pistol drawn in defense. A soldier, wearing the rough grey uniform marking him as a rebel, ran towards her. Henry was distracted by his own opponent that had tried to take him by surprise so he didn't see how his sister's encounter turned out. But when he turned back he was more than a little relieved to see that she was still standing, but the man at her feet was now dead.

With cannons going off around them, and the wounded and dying screaming in agony around him, Henry found himself turned around in the battle.

"FORBES!"

Henry turned around at the sound of the shout.

"FOR GOD'S SAKES COME ON!"

He watched in no small amount of shock as the man's head was blown clean away by a cannon, the body falling to the ground.

It helped him to centralize himself when he saw a young man, maybe in his early twenties, scan the battlefield, inches away from the man who had his head blown off by a cannon ball. Henry dashed forward, barely able to grab the man before another cannon shot hit him. Unfortunately, there wasn't anything he could do keep shrapnel from flying upward and hit the man in the neck. Henry did a quick check, and not finding the wound to be fatal, shoved the man down next to a dead body.

"Stay down!" He hissed to the man.

"HENRY!"

His head shot up at the sound of his name being called. His sister was tucked underneath the dead body of a horse, cradling a wounded Federal soldier. Margaret was gesturing for him to come over to him. After what felt like miles of dodging cannon shots and grape-shots to him, which was probably only a few meters, Henry found himself next to his sister, his eyes going wide at the sight of the man she cradled.

"IT'S THOMAS!" She shouted over the cannons, confirming the identity of the man who was currently bleeding out from a wound in his stomach.

"We need to get him to the triage!" Henry stated. The two ducked as a cannon hit the ground right next to their hiding place, creating a crater and sending dirt flying. Henry scanned the field, trying to find a way that they would be able to retreat without being targeted.

Finally, he thought he saw a way.

"This way!"

He led his sister through the worse of it, helping her carry their fellow Assassin. The bullets were flying past him and his sister, some whizzing through the ends of his outer robes. But the holes in his clothes was the least of his problems right now.

Explosions from both sides of the battlefield nearly made him deaf and his teeth rattled in his head each time they went off.

"Just a little ways more," He heard his sister mutter during the quiet in-between shots of the cannons. "Just hang on Thomas."

Henry gritted his teeth as he urged his feet forward, not sure how much longer he would have to move through the blood-soaked battlefield, littered with the scattered remains of those blown to bits, accompanied by the agonizing screams of the dying and wounded.

He'd never be able to escape the sounds of the battlefield.