Sum of Memories

Chapter 18: Return.

"Well, looks like things haven't changed much at all."

October 10, 1777.

His head was pounding. Connor groaned and pressed the heel of his palm to his forehead, and winced as his temples throbbed. He inhaled shakily and cracked open one watering eye. The light blinded him for a second; he clenched his eye shut again, and then squinted it open and peered around the room.

The furniture was much the same as it had been before he had been swallowed up by that golden light, although the settee was now sitting against the far wall and the chair had been pulled up close to the fireplace. There was a blanket thrown over the back of it, and two pairs of wide eyes were staring at him over the arm of the chair. Connor could make out Leonardo's wheat-blond hair and Arianna's raven mess of curls there.

"Dio mio," Leonardo breathed, and there was a sudden flurry of motion beyond Connor's line of sight. Connor groaned, clenched his eyes shut again, and struggled onto his side, fighting the urge to vomit. A moment later, a hand landed upon his arm and another pressed to his forehead. "Are you all right? Can you hear me, Kenway?"

Connor groaned. "Yes, I hear you."

An answering groan echoed him from his right. "Aye, I hear- Wait. Connor?"

Connor's eyes flew open.

Edward and Rhian were lying on the floor only a few feet away from him, though Rhian appeared to be unconscious and Edward was grimacing as though he had been slammed in the head by some unseen force. Even as Connor watched, Arianna knelt beside the two of them and pressed her palm first to Edward's forehead, and then to Rhian's, and then the Italian woman tutted and shook her head.

"Shouldn't have been pulled in by the portal," she murmured, and her gaze was distant. "So, why…?" She glanced over the two of them, and then she froze when her gaze landed upon a pouch on Edward's belt, and her eyes went wide. "Oh. That's why." Arianna shook her head, and then turned to Leonardo. "Leo, could you please get the hartshorn? We need to wake the girl."

Leonardo nodded and left Connor's side and darted out into the hallway. A moment later, he reappeared with a vial of white salts in hand, and unstoppered it as he crossed the room to where Arianna was kneeling over Rhian and Edward. Connor caught the pungent odor of ammonia. Leonardo pushed Arianna back a few inches, and waved the salts beneath Rhian's nose.

Rhian jerked, grimaced, and then her eyes fluttered open, glazed and disoriented. She groaned and threw her hand over her eyes.

"Wha- Ow!" She hissed. "What happened?"

"The two of you were caught up in the portal when Connor was brought back to his own time," Arianna replied, and checked Rhian over for head injuries. Connor shook himself and pushed himself into a sitting position. His temples throbbed at the motion, but the pain was already fading. He glanced over and watched Edward helping Rhian to sit. Arianna knelt before the pair. "Welcome to the year seventeen-seventy-seven."

Edward's mouth fell open, and he glanced wide-eyed over to Connor, who shrugged. Connor shook his head and stated, "I had nothing to do with this."

"On the contrary," Arianna countered, "Edward and… Drystan, you said? Their coming here had everything to do with you, Connor."

Connor turned his gaze onto the ebony-haired woman and demanded, "What is that supposed to mean?"

Arianna turned her gaze away from him and glanced out the window. She blinked, and then her lips curved into a smile.

"I think you three should go have that drink you were referring to," Arianna retorted, and then she rose without another word and left the room. A second later, Connor caught the creak of the front door opening and low voices exchanging words. After a moment, Arianna reappeared in the doorway, trailed by-

Connor's breath caught in his chest as he met a gaze the color of the peridot gemstones that Edward had looted from Julien du Casse's ship. Those eyes went wide in her dusky face, and she froze in her tracks.

"Cosette," Connor gasped, and suddenly he was on his feet with no memory of rising, gazing down at her.

Cosette Delacroix stared up at him for a long moment in silence. Then her lower lip trembled slightly before her mouth opened in a gasp, and then she flew across the room into Connor's arms, throwing her arms around his middle and burying her face in his chest. Connor was taken aback for a moment- Cosette had never hugged him, before, in any of his memories- but then he embraced her and held her tight, burying his fingers in her hair and pressing his cheek to the crown of her head. She squeezed him tight and shifted her hands to his shoulders, gripping him firmly.

"You're back!" she gasped, and the Kanienké'ha words were more a sob than an exclamation. "You came back!"

"Yes, Tekahionwake." Connor leaned back a little and pressed his lips to the top of her head, opening his eyes and gazing down upon her sable curls. After so long speaking only English, his native tongue felt almost alien when he spoke it, but the words began feeling more natural after only a second or two. "I came back. I came back to you. I'm home."

She sobbed a bit and pressed her face into his chest. The front of his shirt grew warm, but Connor did not care. He closed his eyes, breathed deeply of the delicate scent of mayflowers, and savored the solid, warm weight of her in his arms. Her breath hitched, and hitched again, and then she squeezed him and pulled back. Cosette cleared her throat. A second later, she swiped at her eyes and then cleared her throat again, and that was when she finally looked Connor in the eye. Hers were still damp, and a little red, and her cheeks were starting to get splotchy from her tears, but she was one of the most beautiful things Connor had ever seen, in that moment.

"Where've you been?" she demanded, and then hiccupped, blushed, and cleared her throat again. "I mean- Faulkner came back without you, and he told me- he said-" Her features crumpled a bit, but then she gulped and cleared her throat again. "We thought you were dead, you bastard. We all did. I thought you'd drowned, Ratohnhaké:ton!"

Cosette was flushing, now, but it was with anger and indignation, and she was still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Connor shook his head, reached out, and pulled her to him. Cosette was stiff in his arms for a long second, but then she relaxed against him with a soft noise and wrapped her arms loosely around his waist again. Connor sighed and buried his nose in her hair once more.

"I know," he murmured after a second. "It's a long story to tell, and I'm not sure you'll believe me, but if you'd like… I'd like to tell it to you in its entirety, once we have a moment."

She grumbled something unintelligible into his breastbone, and then she turned her face up toward his and glared at him.

"Ratohnhaké:ton, I swear, if you ever scare me like that again, I'll flay you alive," she promised him, and Connor grinned.

"I can't make any promises except that I'll try to be more careful next time I jump into the ocean after a priceless artifact," he retorted, and she swatted him on the back for his cheek.

"Ahem."

Connor blinked, and that was when he remembered that they had an audience.

"Tekahionwake, there's someone I need to introduce you to," he murmured.

She thumped him on the back again. "They can wait a minute, Ratohnhaké:ton. Just hold me a moment longer, would you? I'm still not convinced that this isn't some fever-dream."

Connor relaxed and pressed his lips to the crown of her head. After a moment, Cosette sighed and pulled back from his chest. She was still shaking. Connor kept his hands on her shoulders for a moment. If he were truthful with himself, he could admit that he was reluctant to let her go. Cosette sniffled a bit, reached up, and rubbed the cuff of her sleeve in the corners of each eye, and then she dabbed at her nose and lowered her hand to her side. After a second, she met Connor's gaze.

"Thank you for coming back," she murmured.

Connor reached out and brushed away some tears that she had missed, and smiled at her. "I could never stay away."

Her eyes widened, and then someone coughed behind Connor. He rolled his eyes with a theatrical sigh that was all Edward in execution, and then gave her another smile and turned and stood beside her. Connor placed his hand on Cosette's shoulder, and then gestured to the others in the room.

"I take it you've met Arianna and Leonardo," he observed, and then he nodded to Edward and Rhian. "I'd like you to meet these two. They're the ones who helped me return to you."

Cosette glanced up at him, and then she returned her gaze to Edward and Rhian. Connor squeezed her shoulder. He beckoned Edward and Rhian forward. They joined him a second later, each of them sizing up Cosette, and she sized them up in return.

"These are Drystan Yates and Edward Kenway," Connor explained, making the switch to English, and Cosette stiffened beside him before she turned a frown up to him.

"Edward Kenway?" she asked. "As in your grandfather, Edward Kenway?"

Edward's shoulders drew back, and Connor met his grandfather's gaze, catching the disbelief that was beginning to drop the other man's jaw.

"Yes," Connor replied evenly, holding Edward's stare with his own. "Edward Kenway is my grandfather."

The blood drained from Edward's cheeks, and Rhian slowly turned her gaze up to Edward. She took his arm; the gesture seemed to steady him, because he stopped looking quite so faint, and instead ran a hand down his face and sighed heavily.

"My grandson," he muttered. "Of all the-" He shot Connor a glare. "You and I are goin' ta have words, rhocyn."

Connor grinned. "Perhaps."

"What you're going to do," Arianna interrupted them, "is get out of my house." Connor and the others turned to her at the sudden sound of her voice. Arianna lifted her eyebrows at them and planted her hands on her hips. Connor exchanged a glance with Edward. "Go have a drink or something, but I can't return Edward and Drystan to their proper time for at least two hours. If I tried, the remnants of your current portal would make the passage incredibly dangerous."

The next thing Connor knew, Arianna was bundling them out the door, wrapping them in scarves and hats and making sure that Edward and Connor and Rhian had their coats done up properly, and then they were standing in the street while she closed the door behind them, wondering how they had gotten there and why it was suddenly so much colder than it had been in 1715.

"What was that about?" Cosette wondered, gazing at the closed door with raised eyebrows. Rhian muttered something in what sounded like Italian, and Cosette turned to the red-haired woman with wide eyes and replied in kind. Rhian's eyebrows shot up as well, and then a grin spread across her face.

"Ma certo," she chuckled, "scopavano prima di siamo arrivati. È certamente la ragione perche stavano nel pavimento quando siamo arrivati."

Cosette covered her mouth and giggled, and then she joined Rhian. "Penso che possiamo essere buone amiche. Sono Cosette Delacroix. Sei?"

"Drystan Yates," Rhian responded with a grin, and tucked Cosette's hand into her elbow. "Dov'è la taverna più prossima?"

"This way." Cosette pointed down the street. "The Green Dragon Tavern is not far."

That was right. It had not yet become a tavern in 1715, but here in 1777, it was a well-known watering hole. Connor had all but forgotten that in light of everything that had happened in the past hour. Connor touched Edward on the arm, and together, they preceded the women down the street with Connor leading them all toward the tavern.

About halfway down the lane, Edward turned to Connor, mouth open, but then he closed it and seemed to reconsider what he was about to ask. After a few paces, the pirate turned to Connor again.

"What's all this about me being your grandfather, boy?" Edward finally demanded. "When I asked, you said neither of your parents had been born, yet. How's this possible?"

Connor glanced at his grandfather and considered how much he could safely tell the other man.

"In your time," he finally began, "that is true. Neither of my parents had yet been born in seventeen-fifteen. My father will not be born until seventeen-twenty-five, and my mother…" Flames licked at his hands. The stench of blood was as thick as the smoke that clogged the air. 'You will think yourself alone, but know that I will be at your side, always and forever. I love you.' Connor swallowed hard and forced his mind back into the present. "My mother was born in seventeen-thirty-one."

"I see. And which one of them is my tyke?" Connor stared at him sidelong until Edward huffed. "Really? You're not goin' ta tell me, after all o' that?"

Connor shook his head. "No. You will find out for yourself soon enough."

"Ten years, boy! That's ten years away- at least!" Edward threw up his hands in frustration and stomped ahead a few feet before he whirled around and shoved his finger under Connor's nose. "You're goin' ta make me wait ten bloody years to find out whether I have a son or a daughter, hmm?" Connor nodded, completely nonchalant. Edward growled. "Bollocks. Ye could at least tell me who's the mother."

Connor stared Edward dead in the eye and replied, "The Virgin Mary."

Edward recoiled, blinking owlishly, and Connor chuckled and rounded him and continued down the road while Edward spluttered behind him and Cosette and Rhian shared a hearty laugh at Edward's expense. Connor stepped over a half-frozen brown puddle and turned right down the next street- and Edward yelped. Connor whirled around in time to watch his grandfather stagger and fall while a child dashed past them, careening down the road toward the docks with mad giggles and pursued by what could only be his two elder siblings, judging by the similarity of their facial features.

"Alasdair, ge' back here!" the man hollered as he charged down the road.

"Ye ill-trickit beastie, I'll tan yer hide fer this!" The only girl of the trio turned on her heel, glanced at Edward, and shouted back, "Sorry!" before she barreled off after the boy who had knocked Edward to the ground.

Connor caught the wet splat of running footsteps in the mud. A second later, a hand landed on his arm. He turned, and standing there… it was the girl from his second set of memories. He recoiled, but the native girl's blue-grey eyes just glittered at him. She tugged on his arm.

"Come on, Ratohnhaké:ton!" she exclaimed. "They are getting away!"

She charged off after the strangers, and Connor watched her go, utterly bewildered. Who was that? He glanced at the others to see if they had seen her. Cosette's eyebrows were lifted, as were Rhian's, but Edward was cursing as he dragged himself to his feet, wiping mud from his face and shaking it from his hands. He was covered in filth from his knees down on his left side, and on his right, his entire elbow was muddy as was his leg from the waist to his ankle. He shook his fist after the fleeing rascals, and then sighed heavily and wiped his messy hands on his trousers, only to freeze and then swear viciously.

"What is it?" Connor asked, and then jumped when Edward bolted past him, chasing the pack down the street.

"They stole the Piece!" Edward called over his shoulder, and once his words registered, Connor charged off after him, heart suddenly in his throat. Rhian and Cosette yelled at them from behind, but Connor paid them no heed.

"This way!" Connor relaxed his mind and his eyes and slipped into his Sight, tracking the trail of the thieves. They had left the road, and had dodged all throughout the area's houses in a way that could only be either haphazard, or deliberate, or both. Connor ground his teeth and followed the trail.

Eventually, it led him down to the harbor, and more specifically, to an unoccupied quay along the northern end of the shoreline. A small hut squatted there, presumably used for the storage of tools and such, and it was beside that hut that Connor spotted them: the man and woman and their younger brother, accompanied by an older man who seemed vaguely familiar. The dusky-skinned girl who had caught Connor's arm was standing only a few feet from them, her breath rising in plumes of white before her mouth, and her fists were clenched at her sides. Connor slowed down a bit and caught Edward by the arm. The man was glowering, his face mud-splattered and flushed, but he calmed slightly at a shake of Connor's head. Connor nodded, and let Edward go, and then led the way down the quay toward the gathering.

Connor studied them as he neared them, sizing up the men and the woman. The tallest of them- the oldest- was a European with sable hair and dark eyes. He wore a dark greatcoat trimmed in red, and Connor could make out the badge of a Templar cross at his throat. Most likely, he was the most dangerous of the group. The three younger ones all bore a striking resemblance to each other, all with the same shape of the eyes and nose, though the elder boy had the dusky colorings of a Native as well as black hair, and his eyes were a dark green hue that the others did not share. The girl had chestnut-hued hair and eyes of a vibrant green hue reminiscent of a cat's eyes. The younger boy also had green eyes, though he shared the eldest man's sable hair and a hint of his jawline.

As for the girl who had caught Connor by the arm, she glanced at him over her shoulder when she noticed his and Edward's arrival, and Connor was startled to realize that she was the spitting image of his mother, but for her eyes and the quirk of her mouth, which Connor realized he had seen before when he had looked in the mirror. She was even wearing her hair in the same two braids that his mother had been wearing the day she had died.

This girl had called him by his name.

"Ratohnhaké:ton, come on!" She beckoned him toward her. Connor glanced cautiously between her and the other group, distrustful of all of them, and approached with a steady stride that was echoed by Edward beside him. He caught the sound of Cosette and Rhian's arrival a moment later.

"What the blazes?" Rhian gasped, but Connor paid her little heed.

"Imogen!" Cosette exclaimed, and a second later, she darted past Connor and quickly interposed herself between the group and the girl. Cosette herded the girl behind her and backed away from the others; Connor's hair stood on end. Cosette had never backed down from a fight in all the time he had known her. What had changed? Cosette spoke over her shoulder to the girl, but never took her eyes from the- from the oldest man? "Imogen Kenway, what the Devil do you think you are doing? You should not be here! Your mother would kill me if she knew!"

Imogen Kenway? Connor's head was spinning. As far as he knew, he was the only Kenway around save for his father.

"What was I supposed to do, let them make off with Edward's purse?" The girl, Imogen, obliged Cosette and backed away with her. A strange sensation curdled the bile in Connor's stomach. They had never told her their names. How did she know Edward's name? Connor drew abreast of them at last, but kept his gaze on the men before him. "Besides, you know that I am a better tracker than Ratohnhaké:ton is."

"That is a bald-faced lie, Imogen, and you know it," Cosette retorted, and glanced over at Connor. "Connor, would you tell your sister to get herself out of harm's way, already? She always listens to you."

"Sister?" Connor demanded, voice cracking in a way it had not since it had started deepening years ago, and then he cleared his throat when they all stared at him. He briefly met the blue-grey gaze of the girl who was supposedly his sister, and then turned his gaze back to that of the sable-haired Templar. It seemed that Connor and Imogen would be having words, later. "I mean- Imogen, get back and let me and Edward deal with this. Cosette is right. You know that Istá would kill me if I let anything happen to you."

She pouted at him in an expression he had never, ever, seen on his mother's face, and he dazedly wondered where she had learned it. "But Ratohnhaké:ton-"

"No buts, Imogen!" He swept his arm back and pointed back the way they had come. "Go. Now."

Imogen scowled, but did as she was told. "Fine! I will go find Bran and bring him here."

"You do that." Edward stepped forward, and his eyes were fixed upon the other group. "Whoever this Bran is, we may need his help."

Imogen shot him a strange look for his words, and then she huffed and darted away, quickly scaling the bank and vanishing into the city beyond. The youngest of the others- the lad who was probably no more than twelve or thirteen- stared after her.

"Noo tha's a braw lassie, tha' yin," he muttered, and his sister elbowed him in the arm. He yelped and scowled at her, and rubbed at the offended limb. "Hae ye lost your mind, ye bleedin' heider? Wha' was tha' for?"

"We've bigger problems than tha' richt noo, Alasdair!" the girl scolded him, and then met Connor's gaze. "Noo, it isnae worth it tae be givin' us trouble. Be ye on yer wa' an' hae ye done wi' it."

Her Scots brogue was so thick it actually took Connor a moment to translate what she had said. Once he had figured out what it was that she was saying, he shook his head.

"No," he retorted, and took a few steps towards them. Edward, Cosette, and Rhian fell in to either side of him. Connor's gaze fell upon the youngest, called Alasdair. "You have taken something from us, and we want it back."

The boy extended his hands toward them. His palms were empty. "I dinnae hae it."

"I saw you take it." Connor narrowed his eyes at the boy, flashing into his second Sight. The boy was telling the truth: he did not have it. However, the orb glowed a bright gold from the pocket of the eldest man. "I also know that you gave it to your mentor."

Strangely enough, the man himself appeared as a black void to Connor's Eagle Vision: a black void covered with ripples of white, blue, gold, and red, dancing across him like sunlight on water. Connor frowned and glanced him over. He had never seen anything like it, before. Come to think of it, Connor realized that the Scottish girl also looked the same to his Sight as the man did. It was strange.

The man's eyes narrowed in an expression that Connor recognized. Where had Connor seen him? A sudden flash of memory flitted through his mind.

"Sir! We're comin' up on the Morrigan, but there's a squall building to the south." Robert Faulkner handed the spyglass to Connor and then took the wheel from him so that Connor could look through the telescope. "Should we pursue her, or do we weather the storm?"

Connor frowned and held the glass up to his eye, adjusting the focus and peering through it at the vessel in the distance. They had been tracking this prey for over three weeks, now, from Boston to Saint Augustine and all the way south to the Caribbean Sea. He knew this opponent well enough, now, to know that he would not take in sail just on account of a minor storm. If they stopped now and weathered the storm instead of pursuing the Morrigan, they would lose even more time than they already had, and Connor did not want to spend any more time away from the Colonies than necessary.

The circular image in the spyglass landed upon the Morrigan's stern, and Connor panned up to the deck. A dark-haired man with pale skin stared back at him, sable eyes narrowed against the fading, storm-silvered sunlight. He was the Morrigan's Captain- Shay Cormac, if Connor recalled correctly- and he looked like he was ready for a chase or a fight.

He would be a wily opponent.

Connor stared at Cormac for a moment longer, and then lowered the spyglass from his eye, collapsed it, and handed it back to Faulkner.

"We pursue her," Connor intoned, and took the wheel.

"You are Shay Cormac," Connor realized with a frown, eyes landing upon the Templar cross at the man's throat. "Your ship sank. I thought you were dead."

"Almost was," the older man admitted. There was a lilt to his words characteristic of the Irish settlers in New York and Boston. "Thought ye were, too, when ye jumped inta the ocean after me ship like a daft eedjit." He tilted his head to the side. "Ne'ertheless, I'll not be givin' ye back the orb."

Connor set his shoulders and advanced on the group. "Then I will be taking it back."

Edward cracked his knuckles beside Connor and joined him. "An' I'll be helping him."

Shay Cormac stepped forward and pushed the boy, Alasdair, behind him, expression hardening.

"Alasdair, stay out o' this," Shay commanded, and the other two flanked him instantly, hands curling at their sides. "Brynn, Aidan, take the blond an' the girls an' keep 'em busy. I'll handle the dangerous one."

The quay erupted into chaos. In a flash, Shay was in Connor's face, sword arcing through the air toward Connor's neck. Connor jerked backward- the slash narrowly missed his throat- and yanked his tomahawk out of his belt. Then he growled and ducked under Shay's guard. Connor angled his Hidden Blade up toward the older man's belly.

Shay was a Master Templar for a reason, though. He twisted to the side. Connor's stab went wide. The Native man caught himself on his left foot and parried Shay's riposte on the haft of his tomahawk. The axe drew sparks as it slid down the blade. Shay's eyes narrowed. Connor ground his teeth and stabbed for Shay's leg with his wrist blade. If Connor could just incapacitate the other man, he could knock him out and take back the Piece with minimal bloodshed.

A heavy body smashed into Connor from the side. He went down, but rolled, and a second later he was up again. Shay was glaring at him, expression stern and focused. Excitement sent Connor's heart thudding behind his ribcage. This was a dangerous, driven man. He was going to be a challenging opponent.

Connor's blood sang in his ears as he shifted his weight. Edward was picking himself up beside Connor. The blond man's nose was bleeding, but he was grinning like a lunatic.

"You're a strong lad, I'll give you that," he chuckled, and then he dove back into the fray, clashing with the man, Aidan. The Native man was much bulkier than Edward, much like Connor himself was. Connor turned his attention back to Shay just in time to duck beneath another slash.

A howl drew his attention to the girls, but he had no time to wonder what was going on. Connor dodged a stab, backpedaled out of the way of a hilt jab that Shay angled toward his nose, and then he rocked forward onto his toes and threw his elbow into Shay's stomach. If he could just get his Hidden Blade in there-

The point of Connor's tomahawk snagged on Shay's greatcoat, tugged, and then, with a great ripping sound, he tore through the outer layer of Shay's coat. Fabric flapped wide. Trinkets and weapons spilled out across the ground.

Connor's tomahawk locked with Shay's sword. A glint of gold tumbled out of Shay's pocket, bounced off the stone of the quay, and hurtled toward the water.

"The Piece!" Connor gasped. "Drystan! Cosette!"

Shay disengaged from him. It seemed like time slowed down as everyone on the quay lurched toward the Piece at once. A cry of dismay filled the air. Connor had a dim impression of Imogen arriving on the fringes of the conflict with a red-haired man in tow. Then Rhian dove to the ground.

Her fingers closed around the Piece.

Golden light burst through the air. Connor yelped and shielded his eyes; it was brighter than the sun. He caught the sound of running footsteps. A second later, the light dimmed, and he lowered his hand, squinting toward the source.

"Drystan!" Edward crashed to his knees before Rhian on the quay. His hands fluttered about uselessly. It seemed as though he wanted to touch her, but he refrained. He was probably afraid that touching her would trigger some reaction that they would not be able to control. Rhian herself was curled up on the ground, clutching the Piece in both hands, and in the dimming rays, her eyes glowed with an unearthly golden light. Her jaw was clenched so hard that the tendons stood out starkly against the column of her neck. Connor slipped into his Sight, and the world washed out in grey. It became easier to see past the blinding light. Edward and Rhian were both white shapes to Connor, the color of friends. Shay was a black void, as was the girl, but the rest of them were all either blue or white shapes, even Aidan and Alasdair.

Strange, that their intent should register as those of friends when their mentor was a Templar. What was happening?

A muscle jumped in Rhian's jaw and a low groan tore itself from her throat. When she opened her mouth, a series of words flowed from her lips that were like no other words Connor had heard before. They were not English, and nor were they Welsh. He would have recognized Welsh, having heard Edward and Rhian speak it so often to each other in the past few months. This was something alien.

"Drystan!" Edward finally put his hands on her cheeks and tilted her face up toward his. In the golden light, his eyes were wide and wild with worry. "Drystan! Answer me, feinir! Can ye hear me, lass? Drystan!"

He petted her cheeks, slapped her lightly, shook her, but it was no use. No matter what Edward did, Rhian did not respond. She just stared blankly ahead, her eyes glowing golden but unseeing. Sparks of yellow lightning skittered across her body every few seconds, and after a moment, a mist the color of topaz began rising off her skin. Connor glanced over at Shay, but the other man was not looking at him, dark eyes focused with a hawkish intensity on the scene unfolding before them. Shay sheathed his sword at his side and put away his Hidden Blade.

"Cormac!" A tall, red-haired man joined them suddenly, and Imogen appeared at Connor's elbow a second later. The newcomer had a Welsh accent. "What's happening?"

"I don't know," Shay admitted, and then glanced at the other man. "Bran, how did your parents tell you they were Altered?"

"Mother destroyed a Piece before Elena and I were-" The Welshman froze, suddenly, and his eyes went wide. "My God. This is it."

"This is what?" Connor demanded, but the tall man never had the chance to answer.

Edward grabbed the Piece, and for an eternal heartbeat, both he and Rhian wrestled with it. Then Rhian's features screwed up, her lips parted, and she screamed a word in that alien language.

An explosion tore across the quay. Connor grabbed Imogen and drew her into his arms, turned his back to the blast- tried to shield her- but it was no use. It blew all of them off their feet. Connor hit the ground, but he hardly even felt the impact, hardly even registered Imogen's scream and the way she writhed in his grip. His entire world shrank to the inferno raging through him and the golden light that quenched everything else.

For a moment, Connor was sure he was dead. Then he opened his eyes.

He was staring at the glowing woman from his visions. She met his gaze for a second. Then she dipped her head in a firm nod, and evaporated into the ether. The light faded. Connor groaned and pushed himself away from Imogen; the girl was whimpering and had covered her head with her arms, but she seemed to be all right. Edward was picking himself up at the water's edge, and Cosette was uttering a string of French curses where she was lying on the stone with the heel of her hand pressed to her temple.

Rhian was missing.

"Drystan?" Connor called. She did not answer. "Drystan!"

Edward's head shot up. A second later, he swore and jumped off the side of the quay, landing in the water with a splash. Connor pushed himself to his feet and staggered over to the water's edge. Drystan was floating face-down in the snow-dusted waters of the bay some 10 feet from the shore. Edward had nearly reached her. When he finally grabbed onto her and turned her over before tucking her against his chest and towing her to shore, Connor saw that her features were pale and slack. They reached the quay a second later, and Connor bent and grabbed Rhian under the arms.

A second pair of hands joined his, and Connor glanced over and was met with the sight of the Welshman, Bran. Together, they hauled Edward and Rhian out of the water and laid Rhian out upon the stone. Her lips were blue. She was not breathing.

"Come on, feinir." Edward pulled himself upright at Rhian's side and patted her cheek. His hands were shaking. "Come on, lass. Breathe. Breathe for me." Rhian did not respond. Edward tapped her cheek again, a little more firmly. "Drystan? Drystan, breathe!" Still nothing. Edward grabbed her shoulders and shook her. "Anadla, cyfrgollaer chi!"

Rhian coughed. A stream of water fountained into the air and slid down her cheek, and then she was choking and hacking. Connor turned her on her side so that she could get it all out. She retched a few times, and then it seemed she was done, because she lay there gasping and shaking, her eyes wide and wild. Edward bent over her and brushed her hair away from her cheek.

"Feinir? Drystan, lass, can ye hear me?" he asked. Rhian shuddered, clenched her eyes shut for a second, and then she looked up at Edward.

"I-I'm h-here," she stammered. Her teeth were chattering. "Fy ndduw, what happened?"

A large hand landed on her shoulder. Connor glanced up to the auburn-haired man, Bran, whose gaze was fixed upon Rhian.

"You just Altered us all."

Compulsory and Standard Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed in any of its forms, save for the copies I have of the games. Assassin's Creed belongs in its entirety to Ubisoft. I own Rhian Yates and any other original characters you encounter herein.

Welsh Translations:
Rhocyn: Lad
Feinir: Lassie
Anadla, cyfrgollaer chi!: Breathe, damn you!
Fy ndduw: My God

Kanien'kéha Translations:
Istá: Mother

Italian Translations:
Dio mio: My God
Ma certo, scopavano prima di siamo arrivati. È certamente la ragione perche stavano nel pavimento quando siamo arrivati.: Certainly, they were making love before we arrived. It's certainly the reason why they were on the floor when we got there.
Penso che possiamo essere buone amiche. Sono Cosette Delacroix. Sei?: I think we could be good friends. I'm Cosette Delacroix. You?
Drystan Yates. Dov'è la taverna più prossima?: Drystan Yates. Where's the nearest tavern?

Author's Note:

I'm still alive! But that's it, I give up! I admit it: I can't stick to a deadline to save my life. I'm so sorry! I could tell you all the usual about how life got in the way (which is the honest truth), but you've heard it all before and probably don't want to hear it again, so on to bigger and better things!

I know this chapter is a little shorter than normal. I got to the end of it and stopped there because it was a good place to stop it.

So, here are some new characters, and one old one who we thought dead! We finally meet Cosette Delacroix face-to-face and Shay Cormac makes his epic return. Who is Bran? Who is Imogen? Who are Aidan, Brynn, and Alasdair? What role will they all play in Sum of Memories? Stay tuned to find out!

Now, in even more exciting news:

I'm publishing my first novella on Amazon Kindle on February 5th, 2019!

Its name is Lady Nightshade. Here's the summary:

The year is 1862. The Civil War rages across America. New Orleans, Louisiana has been in Union Army hands for months, but daily life has not changed much for well-known medium Florence Belladone. She talks to spirits as easily as she speaks with the living, and guides them to their eternal rest- one way or another. However, when the relatives of one lost soul come to her with questions about the suspicious nature of his death, Florence must make the decision of whether or not to become involved with their investigation. If she does become involved, she may find herself dealing with more than she had bargained for.

After all, when you deal with the dead, you also have to deal with their demons- whatever forms those demons may take.

Lady Nightshade is a supernatural fantasy series set against the background of the history of the world, adventurous and filled with ghosts and demons and witches. However, whereas many popular television shows and books of this nature paint God as weak, ineffective, or impotent, or remove God from the equation entirely, Lady Nightshade offers a refreshing take on this genre from a Judeo-Christian standpoint that has been sorely lacking in pop culture during recent years.

If you are fans of Assassin's Creed (obviously!), Supernatural, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel, or just history in general, I'm inviting you to take a gander at this venture into original storytelling. If you like Sum of Memories, I especially urge you to consider reading it.

It goes live on February 5, 2019, and will be free to download until February 7, 2019 for anyone who has an Amazon or Kindle account. I will attempt to finish the next chapter of Sum of Memories by that time, but given my track record, that probably isn't likely to happen... TT_TT I'm sorry ahead of time!

Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you think by clicking the Review Button below. (Oh, gosh, I've been watching too many YouTube videos.)

-Scribe