Oh yes another chapter. Be happy. So so happy.

Disclaimer: I do not own AC3. No matter how much I wished I did.

Enjoy! Long Chapter ahead.

"Are all the children out?" Myriam called as she hauled yet another bucket full of water at the burning building.

Connor arose from the flames, face and clothes stained black from the soot and smoke, two of the children in his arms.

"Where is Ngozi?" Uduak asked her voice urgent and frightened.

Myriam turned to her. "He left," she said. "Before the fire started. " I watched him go."

"Where?" Uduak said.

" He did not say," Myriam replied, but she saw the tension in Uduak's shoulders instantly loosen.

" I'm going to try and find him," Uduak said starting forward.

Myriam stopped her. " Shouldn't you wait for Con-"

" He's busy. It should only take a few minutes. If he asks tell him where I've gone."

" Uduak-" Myriam began. There was no stopping Uduak, she was already halfway into the wood taking the same path as Ngozi. Myriam watched her warily wondering if she should follow her. She couldn't explain why but a feeling of dread was boiling in her gut.

" Nela," Ms. Hans said. " By God where is that child."

One of the children stepped forward. " She left, following behind Ngozi."

Myriam felt herself sigh in relief, all the children were accounted for, and no one got hurt. The last bucket of water was thorwn onto the fire and it dimmed. They did a call for the children, the only ones missing Ngozi and Nela.

" The fire," Myriam said aloud glancing over at the half burned church. " Did one of the children drop a candle."

" No," Father Timothy said. " The children were doing their midafternoon prayers, and the fire sprung as if out of nowhere."

" Fires just do not spring out of nowhere," Connor said turning in the direction of the path Uduak just took.

" Where are you going?" Myriam said starting to follow him.

He has a point, someone had to have started the fire but why? Myriam wanted to ask Connor what conclusion he'd drawn, but he was halfway into the woods.

Figures they both would go running off… Still something did not feel right. Myriam could sense a sort of distension in the air and it unsettled her. She thought about following Uduak and Connor, but thought better of it, and instead joined the others in helping make sure the fire didn't start back up.

Connor

Through his vision Connor would see the trail, the tiny subtly hints left by Ngozi and then Uduak, leading into the woods, followed by the trail of another. Something was wrong.

Wasting no time he followed the clues, stopping only momentary to pick up a piece of broken wood, or feel the indent of a small footprint in the grass. It was the weak cries of an injured animal that made him pause in his pursuit, to turn towards the tall grass.

Fenrir arose, half crawling half walking towards Connor, his nozzle caked in blood, his torso curled.

When Connor approached, he growled, baring his teeth and snapping. Connor held out his hands to him, ushering him to stay calm.

This is not right…Connor thought as he brought the wolf pup into his arms. Fenrir latched onto the leather of Connor's arm Connor gently grabbed him, his yelps increasing in volume.

Where is Ngozi?

Crunch.

Connor leapt then, dodging the blade of a dagger just seconds before it could hit him. Fenrir still in his arms he fell to the ground and rolled, withdrawing his tomahawk as he recovered.

What?

A figure stood directly in front of him, dressed in all black, a cloak thrown about his shoulders, a hood covering his head, a mask over his nose and mouth, so that all Connor could see were his eyes, shaded beneath his hood. Thrown over his shoulder was a large shack.

" Who are you?" Connor demanded.

The figure said nothing. One hand braced itself over his belt, while the other tightened itself around the end of the shack. Fenrir growled, attempting move forward, only to fall back down.

Connor's eyes drifted to the sack, it was big enough to hold a body, the body of a child.

Connor lurched at the figure, his tomahawk still in hand, posed to strike. The man withdrew a dagger, throwing it at Connor, the blade surging towards Connor's chest, almost too fast to see. Connor spun, the blade slicing through the thick clothe of his robe, and cutting into his right arm instead.

The man ran, climbing the broken trunk of a tree and leaping until he was among the trees, free running as quickly and nimbly as Connor.

Connor followed, determination making his feet quick. The man leapt just as they reached the clearing, landing on the ground right in front of the cliffs.

Still silent the man bent to his knees, withdrawing the sack from his shoulder and opening it. Reaching inside he pulled, first revealing a tuff of brown hair, then the head and partial body of Ngozi.

From where Connor stood, he could not tell if Ngozi was dead or merely unconscious. As peaceful as he looked, one would think he was merely sleeping.

Ngozi…

Connor withdrew his bow, the arrow already in place he aimed it at the man. He would kill him for what he'd done. But first he wanted to know why, and who the man was working for.

A list of names appeared in Connor's mind. The slavers might have hired someone, perhaps someone from the British army, the Templars. Even so it did not matter at the second. Dead or alive, that man had his son.

Of all the things that could have been done to Connor, this was perhaps the worst. An innocent child, being caught in his crossfire.

But was it not working? Connor could feel all sense of rationality leaving him as he glanced between Ngozi and the mysterious man.

I am afraid…Connor realized. But not for himself. But for Ngozi. If he is dead…

But he could not worry about that now. That was what the man wanted, for Connor to doubt himself that is likely why he showed Connor Ngozi in the first place.

All else must wait until after I kill this man…Connor thought as he settled his shaking fingers, and tensed his bow.

The man moved to stand, and Connor shot.

He dodged the arrow, spinning around, another dagger arising from his palm aimed at Connor. Connor moved, using the momentum from his dodge to lurch forward after the man, tomahawk raised.

The man withdrew a sword at the same moment, and their weapon's clashed sending sparks from the metal into the air.

One hand still holding the tomahawk Connor withdrew his hidden blade, intending to stab the man in the stomach. The man, anticipating his attack blocked that blade as well with one of his daggers.

They struggled for a half second, neither able to overcome the other, before the man shot out his left foot, sending Connor stumbling backwards towards the cliff. Connor caught himself before he could fall, and the man lunged again catching Connor as he balanced himself.

The tip blade sunk partly into the flesh of Connor's side, before Connor could lurch backward away from the full impact.

He is fast…Connor thought as he stumbled backwards, holding his side, his breathing heavy and quick. Blood gushed down the front of his robe, falling in droplets into the ground.

The man was not deterred by having gotten a blow. He came at Connor again, intending to land another blow, and Connor swung his tomahawk catching the man's shoulder, tearing through the clothe of his cloak, then flesh and finally bone. The man withdrew, falling onto his knees with a cry.

Connor loomed above him, tomahawk still tightly gripped in shaking fingers, blood pouring from his wound.

He felt faint, and suddenly tired, and he realized that he'd lost a lot more blood than he thought.

" Who sent you?" Connor demanded.

The man said nothing. His hood was drawn back, long black hair was pulled back into a ponytail that sketched across his back, and hazel eyes glared up at Connor. All at once the shock of familiarly came rushing to him , and he wondered for a long second where he's seen such a gaze before. It was eerie and unsettling, the feeling the man brought up in Connor.

" I ask again," Connor said. " Who sent you?"

Still nothing.

I will have to interrogate him. It is very unlikely he will tell me anything without force.

CRACK!

Darkness feel first, and his body followed.

Uduak

I saw the man first, then I saw Ngozi as the man gathered up his form into a sack. I recognized him, the man, as the one I spoke to before.

Without thinking I ran forward, ready to attack, stopping when the man bent and picked up a fallen object at his feet.

He lifted it, giving me full view, then threw it so it landed in the dirt in front of me.

It was Connor's tomahawk, the blade and handle stained with blood.

" Con—"

Why…

Connor…

I bent down and took the tomahawk in my hands. It was heavy, heavier than I ever remember it being. I glaze fell upon it, then the ground where it once lay. Blood was everywhere, some scattered upon the rock faces, others pooling, a sticky mess of black and red.

I took a step forward, then another and another until I stood at he end of the cliff. My gaze traveled down, over the steepness of it, taking in the height of it, the rush of water underneath. No normal man could have survived a fall like that, and yet I'd seen Connor leap from heights taller than that dozens of times.

Leap…not fall…

And if he was injured….

I shook my head. I could not think of that now, when another task lay in front of me.

"Is Ngozi dead?" I asked. There were so many other questions I wished to ask, and yet none would rise to the surface.

" No." The man answered. " But he will be soon."

" Then take me too," I said. " To where ever it is you are going."

The man turned his back on me. " I cannot."

I lurched at him, Connor's tomahawk in my hands. The man spun, his hand wrapping around my neck. He was so close. I could see the wisps of black hair under his hood, the color of his eyes. He had hazel eyes, like Ngozi and me, a fusion of green and brown that seem to mix even more in the sunlight.

" Then kill me," I said. " You've taken so much already. My life is only but a smaller token."

He squeezed, and all at once I felt the breath leaving me. I did not fight it, but embraced it. After all. What was I without Connor or Ngozi? They were what tied me to the world, and now they were gone.

My vision swam in blotches of white and red, quickly fading into grey and then black, until I saw and felt nothing.

When I opened my eyes again, I was no longer in the forest, surrounded my blood and chaos, but laying in my bed at home.

The room was warm and dimly lighted. I could smell the fragrances of tea and candles burning along with the strong almost acidic smell of drying paint.

Myriam's face appeared in my view, both concern and worry covering her features.

" Good you are awake."

" Ng-" I began. My throat felt like sand, rough and gravely.

" Here I have water," Myriam said and she brought a cup of water to my lips. I half swallowed, half coughed the water down, before turning my head away when she offered more.

" Ngozi-" I croaked. " And Co-" I coughed. " Connor. Where?"

" Shhh…" Myriam cooed. " Rest now you are not well."

" Where…" I felt the unset of tears, yet I lacked the strength to completely carry it through.

" Udua-"

" Where?" I demanded louder this time. I would scream it, if that was what it took to get a clear answer.

" Connor…" Myriam said reluctantly. She hesitated for a long moment, then said, "Has not awoken yet. His injuries are very bad. A woman claiming to be your sister found him at the bottom of the cliff. There still remains no trace of Ngozi."

I turned my gaze away from her.

" But they are still looking. I'm sure they will find something."

I drew the covers off my form and slipped my legs over the side of the bed. Myriam came over to help me, but I pushed her hands away as I stood to my feet. I was wobbly but I did not fall as a walked to my trunk and opened it. Inside lay my statues, carved images of wood and stone, beneath them the blacked powder of ash, dirt and herbs.

" Brianna," I called.

" Now?" She asked.

" Yes." I answered. I could feel Myriam's confused gaze on me. I did not ask her to leave as I stripped from all my clothing, my scarred back, orientated with markings, now permanent, as much a part of me as my flesh.

" Very well," Brianna said walking out the room. I picked up a pair of scissors from my vanity stand.

" Uduak-" Myriam began. " What are you-?"

I placed the scissors between a lock of my own hair and cut. The hair fell, the strings scattering as they hit the ground. Myriam's hand touched my shoulder. I turned and glared at her.

" Uduak this makes no sense."

" It does to me," I said. I continued to cut, while Myriam watched on, stopping only when I could no longer grip my hair with the scissors. The rest would have to be shaved.

Brianna returned just as I'd finished.

" The water is finished," she said.

I followed her out to where the bath sat. I barely felt the coldness of the water as a sat down and Brianna washed me. Afterwards she shaved off with little hair I had left on my head, the blade so sharp it cut my scalp staining the water a faint pink.

Afterwards I was dried and Brianna spread a thick paste of black dye, the burned ashes of bark and herbs across my body. Her calloused fingers were like the tiny strings of a paintbrush as they moved across my skin, crisscrossing and encircling, line by delicate line until she was finished.

I returned to my room afterwards where Myriam still was. When she saw me her eyes widened. She took a step towards me, then another, and another. Brianna blocked her path.

" Do not, she has just been cleansed."

" Cleansed? I do not understand?" Myriam said.

I went to my knees in front of the trunk, withdrawing the statues and lining them in the appropriate path atop the trunk. I lit my candles and incense next, filling the room with a pungent earthly scent. Although my hands were already blackened from the dye I spread the ashes across them as well,

Then with folded hands I began to pray.

Ngozi

Ngozi awoke in a room, on a bed that smelled of mold and smoke. There was a window, a dresser and a fireplace. The walls were bare and brown, the floor without rugs.

He sat up, slipping out of bed, his head aching, as if some great weight had been put upon while he was sleeping.

Where am I…He wasn't at home that was for sure. His room had a book shelve, and painting his mother had given him, and a desk. Where is Fenrir…He never woke up without Fenrir there at his side.

He tried to open the door, only to find it was locked, the window was too.

I've need captured…He'd read about being captured, but it was usually damsel in distress, who waited in tall castles for princes to arrive and save them.

He wasn't a damsel. So who was there to save him.

Father…yes surely his father would come eventually. Even mother…but it'll be too dangerous for her. Father would make her stay behind.

All I have to do is wait. He said back on the bed, gathering the covers up about his legs, as he drew his knees in close. He would wait, and wait, and wait, even if it took a million years. Someone would come for him.

He told himself he wasn't scared, repeated it over and over inside of his head. But it didn't work. He was scared. And the longer he sat there, replaying the events from the night the man took him away, the more frightened he became.

He might have killed Fenrir….he remembered how bravely Fenrir had fought, like he was a full grown wolf, as big and strong as Obi, and for a moment Ngozi was proud, before he recalled the noises Fenrir had made when the man had kicked him.

Fenrir…

Fenrir was his best friend, and he might have lost him.

And mother…She was always so worried when Ngozi seemed to disappear, even though he was always right within her reach. He hated to see the look on her face when she'd thought he was lost.

Now she will look for me and I won't be there.

And his father. How am I supposed to take care of mother when I'm here and not at home…?

His father would be disappointed in him for not being there.

He started to cry, the tears running down his cheeks in pools. He could not remember the last time he cried, having decided he was no longer going to cry after witnessing his mother holding back her own tears. He'd always reasoned that if she could do it, then he could. He would be strong like his father, without fear or weakness.

The door opened and a woman appeared in the doorway. She was pretty, with long brown hair and eyes that reminded Ngozi of a deer.

" Oh no. Oh. No. There will be none of that." She came and sat next to him on the bed. Her hand found his shoulder, and he flinched away from her foreign touch. "Don't cry."

" Where am I?" Ngozi sniffed. She'd left the door open in her haste to comfort him.

I can escape…I just have to get past her…

" You are safe now," she said patting his back. " There is no longer any need to be afraid. We will take care of you."

" I want to go home," Ngozi said. He pressed his face into her lap, and twisted his arms under hers.

" This is your home now," she said.

" I am hungry," Ngozi said.

" I knew you would be," she said standing. "Come. We're find you something good to eat." She held out her hand to him, and he took it, tightening his grip on her hand at the last second and using her arm as a brace as he leapt to the open door.

She called out after him but he ignored her as he darted out into the open hall. The walls were burgundy and gold, and lined with strange paintings of white men he'd never seen before.

He continued to run, barefoot down the hall, passing room after room, as he searched for a way outside. He came to flight of stairs and he barreled down them, caring nothing for the noise he was making.

A door came into view the closer he got to the bottom, next to it a window made of many panes, which revealed the courtyard outside. A giant fish pond, in its middle the statue of a man on a horse, a sword in his hand.

I'm almost there…

Suddenly a hand found the back of his neck and he was jerked back suddenly. His feet left the ground, and he scrambled, struggling to move forward against the strength of the grip.

" Well. Well what have we here? The little savage is trying to escape."

" Let me go!" Ngozi shouted.

A group white men appeared in his view then, some young, some old, all standing around a table cluttered with maps and figures.

" Rebecca. I thought I told you to handle this." The man shook Ngozi, so hard his teeth chattered in his skull.

The doe eyed woman bowed. Short of breath she said, " I am sorry. He ran before I could stop him."

" Do not let it happen again. I would hate to have to take the little savage off your hands." He threw Ngozi at her feet. " Now take him away. We will deal with this little incident later."

" Yes sir. Come along now." She tried to grab Ngozi. He pushed her hands away.

" No." Ngozi said.

The man he was holding him turned. He had auburn brown hair and eyes the color of the sky.

" No?" He repeated the word as if it were foreign to him. "And why ever not?"

The men at the table had stopped working, their gazes turned to Ngozi and the man with eyes like the sky.

" I don't have to listen to you," Ngozi said. "My father is a strong warrior. He's going to come here and kill you all. Just wait and see."

"A warrior you say?" The man smiled.

Ngozi nodded. "The strongest there is."

" Ah.." he man said. "I see." The man walked to the table, his hand falling on one of the items there, before he came back around to face Ngozi. "Then how would you explain this?"

The man held out his father's hidden blade. For a long moment, Ngozi oculd not believe what he was seeing. His father never took off his hidden blade, even when he was without his robe, his blade was always on his person. He'd let Ngozi hold it twice, wear it once. Ngozi still remembered the small smile on his father's face, as Ngozi had attempted to desperately make the large leather band fit around his small wrist, before giving up and declaring he would be bigger than his father one day, big enough to wear it.

But now that it was no longer on his father's wrist. That could only mean…

SMACK.

Ngozi fell to the ground. He could taste blood, and feel his cheek swelling.

" You little barbarian," the doe eyed woman yelled. "How dare you disrespect him, after he was gracious enough to spare your life, and the life of your whore mother."

He'd never been hit that hard before, not even by Brianna when he did something bad.

It hurt. But not as much as the realization that his father was dead.

The man said something else and the woman replied, but Ngozi could barely hear it over the rush of blood in his ears, and the stinging in his cheek.

Faintly he was aware of someone dragging him away. He glanced up, through burry tear filled eyes, taking in the faces of each and every one of the men, before his gaze finally fell on a large flag, sewed onto it, the imprint of a red cross.

Dr. Lyle

" For the pain I ended up having to give him a slight overdose of laudanum and opium," Dr. Lyle said folding his equipment into his bag. It was a good thing they found Connor when they had, or else he truly would have died from blood loss. It was surprising he was even alive now.

Dr. Lyle took in the sight of Uduak. She sat on the bed Connor lay on, his head cradled in her lap while he lay still and sleeping. It was her who'd forced him to drink the mixtures. Even half awake and injured he still managed to put up a fight, exclaiming that he did not need the medicines, and he could move without them.

It pained him to see her this way, faded and broken and to know there was nothing he could medically do for her.

"Brianna. May I speak to you outside," Dr. Lyle replied beckoning the older woman he follow him. She followed him without a word into the hall. " I am not sure if you already know. Considering your background in the field. But Uduak is pregnant."

" I know," Brianna said.

Dr. Lyle sighed. " Then you also must know, that it very likely, like all the others she will lose her child."

Brianna nodded.

Dr. Lyle continued. " My only fear is that considering her mental state at the moment, should she lose her child, she may-" he cut himself off. He did not need to finish the sentence for her to understand.

" Thank you Doctor," Brianna said nodding. She turned away from him.

" Wait," he called after her. He knew she was succinct, and at times extremely aloof, but he'd expected her to at least make a decision before completely disregarding him.

" I will handle," Brianna said.

Dr. Lyle sighed. There was nothing more he could say on the matter without being abruptly shut down.

" I will return in a hour," Dr. Lyle said. "Should he awake before then, send for me immediately, I will be at Mile's End."

Outside the homesteaders were still going about their daily business, but a sick sort of stillness fowled the air. Connor was injured, at any moment he could die, his son Ngozi missing and no one truly knew why.

Connor's life outside of the homestead was not one he openly popularized, and while a few of the homesteaders had a suspicion, it never went any further than that. All that mattered was that Connor was always there when they needed him, without complaint. Dr. Lyle could only guess the homesteaders wished to see the truth with their out eyes before accepting it without true cause.

What a bittersweet moment this must be for Uduak. She had her lover, but lost her son.

She would know…With the exception of perhaps Myriam, Uduak was the only person who knew Connor almost fully. It is only expected…They were in love after all, they had a son.

Dr. Lyle saw it, manifested in the way Connor stood, hovered protectively over Uduak and Ngozi ready to grab them at every wayward sound or sudden movement someone else made.

And the way he looked at her…One could think she was queen herself. Lyle had always noted that a man had either loved his wife more after she bared his first son, or hated her the same, there was never any in between.

Ah…but they are not married are they…

Lyle could only imagine how grand a celebration that would have been. It took weeks of preparation for Myriam's wedding. Were Connor and Uduak to be wedded, it would take months.

Do I believe he will die? Lyle had not stopped in the last week since Ngozi's disappearance to ask himself that question. Connor was a resilient young man, Lyle could not count the number of times he'd appeared at his doorstep, cut up, bruised, banged and broken, seeking medical attention, either by his own free will or the insistent demand of Uduak. And every single time he made a speedy recovery. There was never any doubt in Lyle's mind that he would not.

Did Lyle have questions to how Connor came upon some of his wounds? Of course he did. And sometimes he asked. And more often than not, he did not get a straight answer.

No…I do not believe it…so there is no need to ask. Lyle thought as he took the path leading to Mile's End instead of going home. He needed a drink to ease his mind.

Mile's End was half empty when he finally arrived. The men who sat inside, drank silently, a cloud of sadness over them, echoing the stillness of the homestead. Lyle took a seat at the bar, next to a younger fellow with auburn hair that curled about his head and face.

"Rum please," Lyle said.

"Delightful chaps aren't they?" The man beside him said. His accent was British and held a mocking amusing tone.

Lyle shook his head. "We have lost much in the past week. It is only expected."

"I am told," the man said turning to Lyle. His lips parted into a grin, "That even the wolves fell silent."

Ok so a lot of stuff happened in this chapter, and it happened pretty fast. A lot of characters have been thrown around, some without names, others with noticeable features. I promise they all have a purpose other than to give you guys a headache. Not a lot of internal dialog for which I am sorry. There will be more next chapter I promise. I seriously just needed to get all this stuff out of the way.

So hairless Uduak...what do you guys think. I seriously could not get the image of Brittany Spears out of my mind while writing this. Hopefully my friend and I can finish the comic that is supposed to go with the next chapter, by next chapter. Fingers crossed. We are both super busy with College, so no promises, but we will try out best. I'm super excited to see what the both us can come up with in styling shaved Uduak.

Ok now for history stuff:

Laudanum- A combination of opium, morphine and codeine, that when administered was both a powerful pain reliever but a powerful narcotic as well.

Safe to say that medical practices during the 18th century weren't the best. You would likely die from infection from your wounds before you were healed. And really the only way to help a person with pain from surgery was to get the person drunk, or high, or just perform the surgery while they were still awake and hope they don't die. Most did.

Uduak's Mourning Rituals-So there is seriously a lot of information of Igbo mourning traditions. Most of which can be found on various websites to which I will post on my profile for you guys to read. Because Uduak has been separated from her tribe for so long and the people within it, her way of doing rituals is almost vastly different. Although some similarities remain. I.E. Head shaving, smearing the black dye all over he body, worshiping her Gods through statues. It's very elaborate and super involved. Check out my profile for links.

Hope you guys enjoyed. Now its time for me to get back to college work. Contrary to popular belief college is not as easy as everyone thinks. Its all papers, papers, and more papers, thesis, and assigned readings. Writing this is seriously like a breath of fresh air.