Ohio Valley 1792

Conner

I washed myself in the shallows of the Ohio as my companion of five years was off doing some scouting. We had not moved as far west as I had liked, but she told me it was for the best. We had all the time in the world now, and I was being to come to grips with that. Looking down at my hands, I watched the cool water run through my fingers, thinking of all the lives I had taken with these two hands. I was not a person who dwelled in the past, but something about today was getting to me. I thought back on the death of my father, Haytham, and how he had died by my hands.

I could feel bile rising in my throat. I would not allow myself to think on that. But try as I might, the vision slipped into my mind. The sound of the blade extending, entering his body with little force. The look of complete shock that was on his face as he came to the realization that I, his only son, had just killed him. The bile rose faster and I tried to make it from the river as my stomach empties the meager contents onto the river bank, as I was on my hands and knees.

And that was how she found me. "Conner, are you well?" She asked as he knelt beside me, a small hand on my back. I could hear the concern in her voice. "Please speak to me."

"I…I am well." I croaked out, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. Slowly, I got my shaking legs under me, and with her smaller frame next to me, I made it to the small fire we had.

She sat next to me, gray cloak still tied around her throat, hood around her neck. Her large gray eyes watched my movements. "Would you like to tell me what that was about?" She tucked her legs next to her, and rested her hands on her knees.

I shook my head. I had no intentions of ever talking about that moment of weakness. "It was nothing."

I heard a soft childing sound from her. "You should not bottle everything up inside, Conner. I speak from experience. It has a way of coming out, and sometimes, you will not like the outcome."

Poking the fire with a stick, I watched a few embers fly into the wind, and die out as they passed overhead. "And I said I was fine." I growled. I did not mean for it to come out the way it did, but I would not let her pity me.

She just shook her head and looked at the fire. "May I tell you a story? It might help."

"Fine." I sat the stick down and leaned back.

"When I was still in training, I was sent to kill a man. My mentor, Malik, believed me weak at this point. I was not made for the assassin's life, he would tell me. At times I believed him." She looked down at her hands, and interlaced her fingers.

"I set out on a blistery day, the wind cutting through the cloth of my robes. I had never been that cold in my life, but I pushed on. Malik rode next to me, back to Jerusalem. That was his city. My target was there, and to say I was not feeling fear would have been a lie. I was not afraid of killing the man; I was terrified that I would disappoint my mentor.

"We rode for three days, only stopping to get little sleep. Finally we reached the gates of the Holy City. I followed behind him as he told me what was be done. My blade at my side and the other on my wrist." She flicked out the ancient blade and it glowed in the firelight. "I had never taken a life. I was not ready for what was to come, but I did it anyway."

There was a pause, and I could hear the breath rattle in her chest. She lowered her head and looked down at the blade. "I killed him. Right in front of his family, and when I escaped, days after, all I could see when I closed my eyes was his wife's face. I heard her screams in my nightmares for weeks later. I bottled that up in me; let it simmer in my soul until I could not take it anymore. I began to get sick from eating. I lashed out at anyone that came near me. I threw up every time I thought about that."

I saw a few tears make tracks down her tan cheeks. They glistened in the firelight as they fell from her face and splashed against the hard packed earth. "I was not the same person I had been before I had done that task. I was a wreck and no amount of talking to me made it better. I became more and more standoffish. I would not go near anyone, nor talk. The days grew longer, and my temper shorter, until one day Malik looked at me and told me to strike him. I had to release the rage inside me. The pain that I was feeling for taking that life was eating me from in inside."

Now she had my attention. All I could think about was if he had only given me Lee, I would not have had to take his life. If he had just walked away, he would still be breathing. "I killed my father. I took his life, and felt his blood on my hands." I spoke quietly.

Her hand rested on my knee. "I know what you did. Conner, you must not let that fester inside of your soul. If you continue down that path, you will never come back from it. It will twist you and create a monster in your heart. Pain is one thing I understand. Better than anyone on the Earth. You must find some way to release that pain, and let your heart heal."

"How? I do not think I can let that go." I turned my eyes onto hers, and she gave me a small sad smile.

"That is something you must figure that out on your own. I cannot tell you what way will work for you, nor can I tell you to forget, but maybe start with forgiveness."

My brow raised, and I shook my head, not understanding. "Forgiveness?"

"He was a Templar, you are an Assassin. It was preordained that you would cross paths and only one walk away. You know this, he knew this. What I suggest is you start for forgiving him for his path in life. It might help, it may not." She stood and brushed the dirt from her pants. "I will let you have some time to yourself." And with that, she walked away from our small camp and into the woods.

I looked into the orange flames and I could almost see his face. The way he wore his hat, the disapproving scowl he wore as we traveled on the open seas together aboard the Aquila, and the way he looked when I screamed at him to not follow me. I bent my head low, looking at the ground. "I am sorry Father, I am so sorry." And the tears drifted from my eyes and down my cheeks, only to collect on the ground at my bent knees.

I had to write this. I finished AC 3 a few days ago and that stood out the most in the storyline. I believe Conner would have been a wreck after doing that deed, so I wrote this little piece. I hope you liked it. I have one more for this, but I have not finished it as of yet. Since New Beginnings is coming to a close, I will finish it.