AUTHOR'S NOTE: OK, so we're nearing the end...do you remember, on YouTube, I said that maybe...MAYBE...I would make you guys a sequel if I got time? Well, I'm gonna strike a deal with my followers.

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So much passion, so much desire, and countless emotions all in one kiss from his lips. I had no doubt about the feelings locked deep down in my heart now – I had stopped arguing with what I wanted most. I loved Haytham with all my mind, heart, soul, strength. How sensational it was to spend time together that night. How my heart fluttered when our lips touched a second time. How I longed to be by his side again.

But along with this feeling came fear. Fear of the future, tearing my wishes to pieces. What if my people disapproved? What if his accomplices caught us red-handed? It didn't matter at that moment in time, but I still wondered if I should tell anyone.

The only person I felt I could entrust with what happened was Koshisigre.

I walked past his brush house one afternoon to the sound of whispered voices again. I peered inside the house entrance, quickly ducking to avoid detection. This time it was Alo, Koshisigre and Kitchi.

Strange. It was Alo and Kitchi having a whispered conversation about my father last time.

Recognition hit me like an arrow in the head. My father. He was murdered, alongside...

Koshisigre's father.

I couldn't help it. I leaned against the wooden wall outside to listen.

"So...what are you suggesting, Kitchi?" asked Koshisigre.

"I'm suggesting," he replied, "that one of those men murdered your father. And almost Kaniehtí:io and Oiá:ner's entire family. I remember him clearly. He was wearing the same coat!"

The same coat. What colour? Not...the same as Haytham's, surely?
Stop making assumptions, Ziio!
Why are they talking about Mother and I?
Listen.

"Which one? Not the one who saved my life?"

"No, not him!" he snapped. "His accomplice."

"A Templar?"

"What's a Templar?" asked Koshisigre.

"Do you remember nothing Achilles Davenport told us?"

"No."

"Achilles is an Assassin, yes?" said Alo.

"Yes."

"The Templars are enemies of the Assassins, and – if Achilles spoke the truth when we saw him – are notorious for cruel acts. Do you see? That man was a Templar."

I prayed for my heart to stop beating so loudly.
So that is where I heard the word 'Templar' from.
But...Haytham is an Assassin! He has the same blades as Achilles!

My mind relaxed a little. Perhaps the man whose hands were stained with Mohawk blood was secretly a Templar. But I could never be sure. I knew that Haytham was not a so-called 'Templar', at least.

"Oh," Koshisigre replied, "so the man who rescued me..." he gasped. "Was he a Templar?"

"Quite possibly," Kitchi anxiously.

No! I wanted to yell: No! No! No!
I look suspicious listening here. I need to move.

My mind still racing, I headed for the village entrance. I needed to walk in the woods and think.


I received many suspicious stares as I climbed over the thicket (which we called the village entrance). Ignoring them, I carried on walking, staring at my feet with a cold concentration.

So...I need to think. The man who murdered my family might be a Templar. He is an ally of Haytham, yet Haytham is an Assassin...
...Like Achilles Davenport, when our people saw him five years ago.

But the Templars and Assassins are enemies. That does not make sense.

I passed a thick-trunked tree; a gloved hand grabbed my wrist from behind it. A jolt of shock slid up my spine. I gasped, reaching automatically for my knife. The nondescript arm swung my entire body round to face its owner before I could cry out in surprise.

"Haytham!" I breathed. "What are you –?"

He silenced me with a kiss. I was terrified that we would be caught; I squirmed to try and get free, but I was unable to resist him. I was in his arms again; in a blissful state of mind, oblivious to the village behind us. I stopped struggling and relaxed, not stopping my heart racing wildly. We broke apart.

"I had to see you," he whispered desperately. He glanced round in every direction to check that we were completely alone. "Listen, my men have been rather hostile about the hours I spend away from them."

I nodded. "My people are suspicious as well."

"Do any of them know where you went a few days ago?"

"Not yet," I admitted, "but I may tell Koshisigre. He will not reveal anything."

"Good, good." He couldn't stop glancing around. Was he paranoid that he'd been followed? I shifted uncomfortably against the bark of the tree.

"I wanted to remain loyal to the Order, but I could not just abruptly stop visiting. In their eyes, now we no longer need your assistance, it is pointless to keep in contact with you. We need to find a way around this."

"Haytham, my people feel the same..." I trailed away, thinking about the conversation in the brush house.
No! Do not think about that now!

"We have to form a plan. We need to meet somewhere. But when?"

"Tonight would be a good idea."

"Excellent. By the river, perhaps? That way I can pretend I was investigating something about Braddock."

"But what if the troops are still there?" I asked.

"They aren't. I was there earlier today."

"What for?"

Was it my imagination that he diverted his gaze immediately after I'd said this? No; his usually flawless blue eyes clouded over with a kind of darkness that I couldn't analyse. Only for a moment. Then it was gone.

"Oh...nothing really. I will meet you tonight, at sunset." Then, just for good measure, her set my heart beating faster one more time. He gripped both my shoulders and whispered: "I am sorry. I would have said thank you, and stayed with you in the cave a little longer but..." the words died on his lips as I looked deep into his ink-blue eyes. "Oh, god, Ziio...if only you knew."

"Knew what?"

His chin moved up and down like he was struggling for breath. "I will tell you later," he whispered hurriedly, "I must go."

With that, he dashed up the steep hill and into the distance before I had time to react.