Author's Note: Again, I still don't own Assassin's Creed. Obviously, I'm uploading the prologue and first chapter at once, since I'd hate to leave you all with a mysterious prologue for however long. Here we get to REALLY meet our main character, along with Desmond. Review please! I love hearing from you!

Chapter 1

"Damn, woman, you can really hold your liquor!" I appraised the bartender with dark eyes, clinging to a now empty glass. Displeased that I was still capable of deep thought, I waved my hand for another round. The drink had hardly touched glass when I tipped my head back and downed half the glass. I had just discovered the bottom of my glass did not hold the answers I sought and was about to ask for another when I heard the door open, and felt an irresistible pull behind me. I blinked hard, clearing my head, and listened carefully, pulling my coat more firmly around my shoulders.

"Hi, I'm here for the bartending job?"

"Ah, right, the applicant. Follow me. What was your name again?"

"Desmond Miles."

My heart stopped.

Unable to resist the urge, my head whipped around so hard I felt my neck pop. The resemblance was uncanny. The name impeccable. The pull unmistakeable. Part of me wanted to walk up and tell him everything.

I gave in to the other part of me, which bid me run to the bathroom, lock myself in a stall, and struggle for the breath that had left me. Once I was feeling relatively normal again, I left the stall and splashed water from the sink on my face. The coolness of the water cleared my head of the drink and shock. My dark hair, brushed but unkempt, hung around my pale face like a frame. My hazel eyes had dark circles from lack of sleep; such did not come easy for one like me. Clothes wrinkled, frame drooping, I could not present myself like this. I would come back the next week, cleaned up and more informed. Was he in the brotherhood? If he wasn't, how would I even begin to start?

It mattered little now. A quick glance around the bar to make sure it was safe, and I fled. Outside, I raised my hood, face shadowed in the dusky twilight. The street was deserted of all but the bar goers, and I proceeded on my way, glancing over my shoulder as I went.

For a week I took high dosage sleeping pills to help with the bags under my eyes. I thoroughly washed my hair, then cut a good five inches off, so it hung just a few inches longer than my shoulders. Trimmed the front into neat bangs. Bought new clothes. New mission; get close to the target. How would he ever believe what I had to tell him unless he trusted me? I stared into my closet, thinking hard about what to wear. I settled on a pair of hip hugging, curve showing jeans and a tight, dark red t-shirt. As eye catching as possible. A pair of leather boots and a light leather jacket completed the ensemble. Back to the bar.

It was a fairly usual night. Lights flashing, beats pounding, drunk or going-to-be-drunk people lounging right up next to the bar nursing whatever colorful concoction piqued their curiosity. Behind the bar, Desmond looked completely at ease, chatting it up with the more coherent guests while deftly mixing drinks. He was surprisingly good at it for not having been here that long. It pained me to know that I was going to have to crush this happiness. For the time being, I put it out of my mind and strode confidently to the bar, tossing my hair as I did so. From the quick glance-look-away I received, I would guess he noticed.

"Hey," the bartender slid down to where I sat, friendly smile in place. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Surprise me," I replied with a coy smile, hiding my excitement. There was no doubt. I'd finally found him. He smiled back and came back quickly with a colorful concoction of who knows what, which he simply referred to as "my specialty". I took a long drink, surprised by its sweetness.

"What's your name?" he asked casually, leaning against the bar, cleaning one glass absentmindedly. I smirked; he'd already cleaned it once.

"I'm Rae, how about you?" I leaned purposefully across the bar, head resting on my hand, elbow planted firmly.

"Desmond," he replied after a momentary pause. My smile widened.

"Well Desmond, whatever this is, it's divine," I complemented. I took another sip to hide my amusement at the blush that spread over his cheeks. I couple of customers chose that moment to start demanding his attention a little further down. He dithered, uncertain, unwilling to leave this chance. I smiled kindly and reached for a napkin, pulling out an old fashioned fountain pen.

"Listen, give me a text at this number when you have a day off, and maybe we'll talk more," I let the sentence hang for a moment before handing over the napkin. I also tried to pay for the drink, but he refused, insisting it was on him. I smiled gratefully, turned, and left the crowded bar.

In the safety of the dark, I let a wide smile stretch my features, every tooth showing, as if I had been given a marvelous prize. I pulled my hood over my head and fled down a deserted alley, feeling lighter than I had in months.

It wasn't but a few days later that I received a text. Seizing my phone, I clicked open the message from the unfamiliar number.

Meet me at the bar tonight at seven?

I grinned like a stupid school girl and sent back the affirming text, then fled to my room to get ready. My apartment was small, cozy, and all I needed. I was used to living constantly on the move, so I didn't need much. All of my necessaries would easily fit into a single backpack. However, I'd been able to settle here for quite a long time with no word from nosy Templars. Either they had no idea where I was, or they didn't consider my presence a threat right now.

I threw on a flowing knee length skirt, a collared blouse, and went to work on my face. My makeup was easy enough; just some natural shades to accent my features. My hair was a different story. It didn't like to cooperate with me. I braided two long sections on either side of my face, then pulled the whole thing up into a loose bun. To any normal guy, I would be irresistible. I left the apartment, a spring in my step and a spark in my eye.

The meeting and dates to follow were simple enough, but enough all the same. Movies, dinner, walks in the park, even going down to the coast once. I needed to tell him soon, who I was, who he was, and what we were destined to do, but I stayed silent. This was so much easier. With the lack of Templars, after all, I had all the time in the world.

And then the moment ended.

I went to meet him at the bar shortly after he got off work, a spring once again in my step, dressed simply in jeans and a t-shirt, my long black coat wrapped around my shoulders, hood down. As I rounded the corner, my heart sank lower than my stomach.

Strange men, shoving Desmond into an unmarked car. I could just barely make out a symbol on one man; Abstergo.

"NO!" I cried, my heart pounding. They slammed the door and began to drive away. I raced after the car, reaching out as though I could stop it through pure will alone. "Desmond!"

It rounded a corner, and I collapsed to my knees, breathing hard.

Again, I failed.