Hey peeps (at this point, I'm just talking to myself here), it's me again. So, despite the brief time span, I decided to update sooner than I had planned. Note the POV change here. Anyway, enjoy and, as always, don't forget to R&R:)

Also concerning chapter lenght, this is about what you can expect of me. One is usually between 2000 and 3000 words. C'est la.

Нαутнαм

It was indeed a tunnel.

Holden had lit one of his small torches, and was now literally leading us through the dark.

Jenny was close behind, followed by the girl's small figure. I kept my eyes fixed on her, fearing that she would collapse again.

She had gone through enough pain today, she wouldn't endure much more without dropping with exhaustion.

The way seemed endless, I quickly lost track of how long we had been going.

After an eternity, at least what it had felt like, the path slowly went upwards, leading us to higher grounds.

It came to an abrupt end with a plain wooden door blocking our way.

Holden kicked it open and broad sunlight blinded us all for a few seconds, as we were greeted by the typical heat of an Arabian September day.

The way back to the cottage where we were staying was long and troublesome, as we had to take backstreets and hidden alleys to avoid being seen by the governor's men.

We didn't talk much, too exhausted for conversation, especially the girl, who couldn't quite believe her luck yet, but when we finally arrived, I took her aside. She seemed to have given thought to sneaking away, as she constantly eyed her surroundings.

I knelt down at her eye level. She shot me a suspicious look, wondering what I could possibly want of her after our escape had succeeded.

Locking my eyes on hers, I simply said: "Thank you."

She seemed surprised and her hard gaze softened a bit. "Likewise."

"I don't know if we had made it out as unharmed if you hadn't helped us. For that you have my deepest gratitude."

It was only now, in the broad daylight, that I could see her properly, and as I examined her, she looked even worse than I had expected.

Besides being heavily malnourished, she had dark circles under her eyes, which were just emphasised by her pale skin, for she had barely seen the light of day during her imprisonment. It seemed to me her eyes were the ones of a cornered animal, constantly darting around, as if she expected mistreatment in every second of her life. Her eyes itself seemed too big in her hollowed out face. She was filthy, as if her skin had absorbed the dirt she had cleaned up for the past three years, even her clothes were ragged. It seemed to me she had possessed the lowest rank of servants, as even Jenny looked healthy and well-fed and dressed in comparison to this poor creature.

The skin on her lips, hands and feet was chapped and dry from countless hours of hard work every day, and not even possessing a single pair of shoes.

In addition to that, she was covered in bruises, not just from today but she seemed to have earned a few on a regular basis. The skin under her left eye was swollen and of an unhealthy purple colour, while her bony arms showed numerous semi-healed cuts.

Her forehead was coated in blood from the laceration the guard I had killed had inflicted her.

As it was with many children, the circumstances she lived in had made her ugly.

"I want to return to my family.", she demanded, holding my scrutinising look and returning a challenging one herself.

"Soon.", I answer, "returning to your home now is too dangerous, they're probably expecting you to do so immediately."

She didn't seem convinced.

"Besides.", I continue seamlessly. "We haven't even properly introduced ourselves, have we? My name is Haytham. Haytham Kenway. My companion is Private James Holden, but he mostly goes by Holden. And the woman you helped rescuing is my sister Jenny."

Every name was accompanied by a nod of hers, as if she acknowledged them one by one.

"My name's Julie.", she said. "At least that's what my parents called me. Except when my mother was mad, then she called me Julianne, guess that's my full name. In the palace, most people called me 'girl' or 'rat' or 'midget'."

"Julie is a very pretty name.", I answered, trying to somehow keep the conversation alive so she would choose to stay. "French. Any chance you have descendants from France?"

"I think my grandmother on my mother's side was French, but we hardly talked about her, she's long dead. My dad's English."

After a moment she looked at me with curiosity. "Did you know Haytham means 'young eagle' in Arabic? That's a rather unusual name, if I dare say so."

I laughed hoarsely. "Yes, my father seemed to have thought it fitting for me."

Standing up, I opened the door to the house, gesturing towards it. "Come. We may continue this conversation after some rest and a meal, won't you say? I bet you haven't slept in a proper bed for ages."

The prospect of a warm bed and something to eat seemed to fully convince her in the end, following me into the mansion.

Three weeks later I decided that it was now safe to fulfil my promise to her and return her to her family.

Holden insisted on joining us, but I told him to stay with Jenny just in case, which he accepted.

"But you take care, sir. There may still be guards looking for her."

I promised.

After purchasing a horse on the local bazaar, Julie helped me saddle it. I noticed her professionalism with the animal, and when I asked her about it, she explained that she had been working on her father's farm since she was five years old.

In the three weeks that we had spent together, I had learned quite a few things about her. To my surprise, she was fifteen, although she looked like thirteen at most. I blamed that on the mistreatment she had suffered, alongside with her tiny figure.

She fluently spoke English, Arabian, German and a bit of French and even knew a few words in Spanish and some bits of the Osman languages spoken in the eastern European countries. Her father had taught her English and German, he used to be in the Royal Navy until he got shot in the leg in a battle, after which he retired and settled down. Her mother had taught her French, as she had lived in Marseille for a long time. The Arabian she had learned while growing up.

Even though only three weeks had passed, her appearance had changed dramatically. The dark circles had faded and her skin tone was now, although still fair, of a healthy colour. Her light brown hair, once tangled and greasy, was now neat and clean, and even though she was still way too thin, she had gained some weight. The bruises had healed and she now proudly possessed a few nice clothes and two fine pairs of shoes. She had stared at me as if I was insane when I had given her the things I had purchased.

"You know, I am very much capable of riding my own horse.", Julie grumbled, as I lifted her on the animal's back, seating myself behind her and taking the reins.

"I'm sure you are.", I answered. "But it's still safer this way."

She sighed, but did not argue any further, for which I was quite thankful.

Following her instructions, we soon left the town and galloped on a dusty street, which lead to a nearby village. Shortly before reaching it, we left the main street and followed a nearly invisible path to her home.

With every second we came closer, her excitement seemed to grow, her eyes shining and a smile lighting up her face.

I soon realised that something was wrong.

After leaving the main street, I had noticed fresh tracks of at least eight horses on the dusty ground, leading in both directions. Additionally, there was a faint smell of smoke in the air, and it strengthened with every second we came closer.

Something was entirely wrong. Everything inside of me screamed trap but I chose to ignore it. For her sake.

The fire still wasn't out when we reached what was left of the farm.

The house and the stables were burned down to the ground, with only a few charred planks and beams standing, some still burning. The air was filled with black smoke and the ground around the buildings was blackened by fire.

But the worst were the three burned, human-shaped figures, which had been tied to beams, two of them still standing while the third one, smaller than the other two, had fallen to the ground as they burned, their arms still held in the position in which they had died, abducted in an awkward angle.

Julie was off the horse before I could stop her, running towards what remained of her home, desperately screaming for her family. She collapsed a few feet away from the three charred corpses, covering her face with her arms and screamed, while tears ran down her cheeks.

I dismounted the horse and checked the surroundings for any sign of advancing horses, but we were alone in this place of death.

Julie was on the ground, curled up in a ball. She had stopped screaming, but was now shaken with sobs. I crouched next to her and gently pulled her into a tight embrace, stroking her hair.

The same thing had happened to me long ago, when the mercenaries had attacked my home, killed my father and abducted my sister. Her life would never be the same again.

"I'm so sorry, Julie. I'm so terribly sorry."

She clawed her fingers into the fabric of my shirt and pressed her face against my chest, as if she never wanted to see the world again.

"We'll bury them. Properly.", I promised.

Her voice was shaky and barely audible, but it was filled with anger.

"What for? Their dead. Burying them won't bring them back to life."

Her grip on my shirt loosened, she pulled back, her face red and eyes swollen, but she had stopped crying and seemed determined to appear strong, even though her whole world was shattered into billions of pieces, each one of them a shard of glass cutting into her heart.

"Thank you for your help, Haytham.", she whispered, tossing a last glance at what was left of her home and family, and started walking the way back with small, firm steps.

"Wait!", I called after her, quickly catching up to her and stepping into her way, forcing her to stop. "What will you do now?"

Julie merely shrugged, her cheeks were still wet, but her eyes were empty and dull.

"Do you have any relatives you could stay with?", I tried again.

"No one I know of. But I can take care of myself."

I didn't know what exactly it was, what made me say the following words, maybe it was that she reminded me of myself and the loss I had suffered. Maybe I also didn't want to repeat the same mistake my father had made with Jenny.

"Listen.", I said carefully. "If you want to, come with us. To the colonies. Or England, if you prefer. You have proven yourself a more than capable member of our little association."

With a bit of training, you will become a proper Templar, too.

After a long moment of silence, in which she just stared into my eyes, looking for a trace of betrayal, she spoke.

"Come with you as what? Your daughter?"

She almost spit out the last word.

"I believe 'apprentice' would be more fitting."

That seemed to work.

"Will you teach me how to fight?"

"That and more."

"Why are you doing this?"

The question was very straightforward, considering that not even I myself was certain why I offered her something I hadn't offered anyone yet.

"Because I know how you feel. I also lost my parents in an ambush when I was young."

Julie glanced over her shoulder, sun reflections dancing in her hair.

She had nothing left here.

"Alright.", she said very quietly. "Take me far away from here."

(*sequence one completed* ;D)

As soon as we reached Boston, Julie's training begun.

I spent the first week introducing her to both the city and the other members of our rite, who all seemed to be quite startled of my sudden whim taking in apprentices, especially female apprentices, but warmly welcomed her nevertheless. Especially Hickey seemed unusually delighted with her presence, as he actually chose to attend our meetings more often than ever before.

This behaviour of his, even though he had been nothing but kind to her so far, still was something I found rather unsettling.

There was much she had to learn. Apart from our daily training in riding, fighting and shooting she had other supervisors, receiving lessons in both reading and writing, calculations, history, navigation and the thing she never missed complaining about: etiquette.

From time to time, when they had a moment to spare, the others would come by and acquaint her to some of their individual skills, William mostly telling her about his journeys and his experience with the natives and other cultures he had encountered, Benjamin tutoring her in medical matters, John in strategy and tactics and Thomas in the fine art of cheating in a large number of board games, together with how to be an inveterate drunkard.

Even Charles, who seemed to be the least fond of her, sometimes taught her something about politics, or a few chords on the piano. To my satisfaction, she always was hard at work and therefore advanced with great strides and success.

Julie herself seemed to thrive with every passing second, her beauty unfolding like a budding flower kissed by sunlight.

Her hair was now long and thick, flowing down her back in a waterfall of light brown waves, though she rarely had it open, usually wearing it in either a ponytail, or a long braid. Her figure had changed significantly, experiencing a burst of growth in the first few months after her arrival, she was now at a stately height of 5 feet and 10 inches, towering over most of Boston's girls her age. A few months of training and three meals a day had covered her once clearly visible bones with a healthy layer of muscles and fat, although she still was too thin to be considered "of a proper statue" by most men, which she couldn't have cared less about.

She was blessed with a pair of delicate lips, full and red, and two honey brown eyes, which were surrounded with a ring of dark and long lashes, at which she had developed a habit of pulling when she was bored.

All in all Julie had become so beautiful that I started worrying about men distracting her from her duties, something that was proven unnecessary, as she never showed any signs of interest in the opposite gender.

As time passed and her skills seemed to improve daily, I found her sitting at the piano one evening in July, preoccupied in in thoughts, not really paying any attention to what she was playing, resulting into an incoherent succession of non-harmonic tones.

I sat down next to her and handed her an apple I had taken from the kitchen.

She jolted in surprise, being so absent-minded, that she had not noticed me beside her.

"Oh. Thank you, Haytham.", she said, taking the apple I offered her.

At a certain point, Julie had decided to only call me by my first name in private, addressing me as 'Master Kenway' in public and usually as either 'Grand Master' or just 'sir' at official Templar meetings.

"So what are you composing here?", I asked her, waving a hand at the piano.

Her eyes followed my gesture, looking at the instrument for a few seconds.

"Absolutely nothing. I was just messing about. Didn't even realise I was playing."

"Well.", I answered, shifting on the uncomfortable wooden stool. "How's etiquette going?"

She sighed and adapted an exaggerated, posh accent together with a very high-pitched, hysterical voice, faintly resembling her teacher's, Mr. Evansbury: "No, no, no! Julie no! You cannot do that! Left foot! Left! The other left, woman! How are you ever going to survive a ball as clumsy as this! No! What are you doing!? The man leads, for Christ's sake! You cannot just waltz around how you please! And don't make such a frown, little Missy!"

I laughed, shaking my head at that horribly inaccurate imitation.

"He means well, you know that. Besides, you're good at fighting and that's nothing more than a slightly more brutal way of dancing, you also have to use your feet."

Julie nodded, lost in thoughts.

"But that's not what's bothering you, is it? Spit it out."

She took a bite of the apple, probably to gain a few more seconds in which she didn't have to answer me. After she chewed for about half a minute, she finally said: "It's nothing of great importance, to be honest it's pretty trivial. But... It's just... I went to the market today. And there was this gentleman..."

Now I was in my full alarm mode, my whole body tensing up.

"...and he asked me for my full name.", Julie continued, unaware of my sudden uncomfortableness. "Anyway, the point is, I did not know. I cannot remember my last name. I tried, really. But it's as if it was erased from my memory."

Relieved that it didn't turn out as I expected, I relaxed and smiled vaguely. "Well, if that is so, you are being granted a luxury not many people are: to choose. If you wish to, we can get you a second hand name tomorrow after your training. I know just the right place for such matters."

That offer surprised her.

"And where would that magical place be?"

I took her to the cemetery.

After some strolling around the tombstones, she said: "Martin is good."

"Why Martin?"

"I don't know. I suppose I like the sound of it. Julie Martin. Miss Martin. Lady Martin! Also, it's a bird and I like that."

"You do realise you would have to marry to be officially titled a Lady. And you would most likely take your husband's name?", I remarked, smirking.

"Well, if so, then I will have to find a Lord named Martin to marry.", she shot back.

I merely shrugged, Martin was a rather common name, I had hoped for something more extraordinary, but it was her choice and I accepted it.

She hesitated, tilting her head as if she was bothered by something.

"What is it?", I asked, hoping for a change of mind concerning the name.

"I feel like I'm stealing it. It's uniqueness."

I couldn't help but laugh.

"Do you have any idea of how many people's last name is Martin?"

"Really?"

"But if you go by popularity, Julie, I would recommend 'Smith'."

Ignoring my commentary, she now was reassured, a smile dancing on her lips. "Julianne Martin! That's a name accompanied by fanfares, my dear mentor."

"I'm sure one day it will be. Now come, you have lessons to attend, my dear Miss Martin."

Three years after I took her under my wings, we officially accepted her into our fold, the last step in becoming a full member of our rite and a Templar Knight.

In the very moment I slipped Reginald Birch's old ring onto her finger, I knew that offering her a new life in the order had been the right choice.

Julie was going to be an asset against all our enemies and I very much intended using her when the right time had come, bringing the Templar Order back to its old glory.