I have no excuse for why I haven't updated in so long, other than I was really busy with the production of Godspell that I was in. Standing ovation for every performance, not that I'm bragging or anything... But now that that's over, I can once again focus on writing. So here's this super belated chapter! I do not own AC3.
Robes
Over the next half year, Connor and I had fallen into our roles of student and master, well at least he had. My feelings for him grew with every passing day, to the point where I had a big, fat crush looming over my head, ready to flatten me at any moment. I could feel myself growing stronger, faster, and smarter. Every day I got up with the roosters and trained well into the night. My muscles burned and my head strained from all of the knowledge being poured into it. What baby fat was left on my body had quickly vanished.
Achilles sometimes oversaw my training, making pointers every now and then. He was much less lenient than Connor was, but I was grateful to have the chance to improve myself. But most often, I spent my days with Connor.
As the days went by, his personality began to shape itself before my eyes. I found out that he was very stubborn, was a bit arrogant at times, and had a childish side. His sense for right and wrong were unwavering and he was highly skilled at his chosen way of life. He had a deep love for his people, a love as great as his hate for those who would harm them, namely the Templars.
Oh, the way he talked about the Mohawk tribe, it melted my heart. It made me want to see his village, meet the people he loved so dearly. It made me want to experience all the wondrous traditions that they had. It was one of the few things I had gotten him to open up to me about.
There were also the little, less obvious things that I had observed of his character. I had discovered that he had a weak stomach for liquor, loved sweet things, and had trouble sleeping. Sometimes, late in the night, I would hear him screaming in a different language. One word popped up often, though I didn't know what it meant, the word "Ista". Those times when it would get really bad I would take a single candle, run to his room and sit by his bedside. I always found him in the same condition; eyes squeezed shut, fists clenched tightly in the furs draped over his bed, a cold sweat broken out over his forehead. I knew better than to wake a lethal man from his night terrors. In his delirium he could mistake me for an enemy and I would be in my grave before his mind fully came back to him. But I could not just sit and watch while he suffered.
My mother had sung me a lullaby every night before I went to sleep, the same that I taught to Tabitha for her own daughter the day I left Boston. A sad but entrancing melody that would lull anyone into the deepest of dreams. One night I'd had the idea to sing it to Connor when he had been restless, and so far it was the only thing that had succeeded in calming him down. It was a heartbreaking sight to see, those nights when he had nightmares. He looked so anguished, so sad. I was probably one of the only people to ever see him cry.
I wondered sometimes what kind of horrible tragedy could have happened to give him such nightmares. I would never ask though, I didn't want to pry. And, to my comfort, they seemed to occur less and less often over time. Of course I had my own demons to deal with, but they would never be so terrible as his seemed to be. Then again, a life like his was bound to create some disturbing memories.
I would die of embarrassment if Connor ever found out about my singing for him when he had nightmares. So every time it happened, I made sure to leave as soon as he was calm. He had never once woken up and I was eager to keep my lucky streak. So this became as normal a routine as everything else.
I had learned many impromptu lessons along with general combat during the course of my training, like making fires and hunting. Connor told me that he had learned all of his basic skills from hunting, and that I should as well. So he told me that if I wanted to eat, I had to catch my own food for the first two months of training. I almost starved before finally figuring it out, with the help of my newly acquainted friend Myriam. As it turned out, Myriam was also the one that took care of me the night Connor brought me to the homestead.
Those long days in the forest had taught me a lot about stealth and tracking. The tree climbing part I already had down pat, so that part of "learning" went by quickly. But I had acquired valuable skills from the experience, such as baiting, trapping, and using a bow.
My days were filled with nothing but training, Connor style. And let me tell you, Connor was a hard ass. Though I had a feeling Achilles would have been harder. I liked the old man, but I had witnessed his skills, and don't let the limp fool you, he was a force to be reckoned with. I think I was most afraid of that cane. He likes to trip and hit people with it.
Working so hard had wrought serious changes on my body. All the physical labour had toned my body into a fighting machine. I had refined muscles in places that I hadn't even considered, like my back, my calves, and my neck. I wasn't complaining about not having to wear a corset though. I had learned that wearing corsets inhibited the growth of core muscles, so I realized that yes, women can have abs too. And I'd also found that the labor made me no less womanly. In fact, I liked the way I looked now much more than I did before. Though I didn't have a ridiculously tiny waist as was the current style, which I had never been fond of in the first place, I realized that the extra physical work had made my feminine assets considerably more, for lack of a better word, perky.
But aside from the physical changes, I had also received quite a bit of mental change as well. My awareness had grown and I found I was sharper to pick up on sounds and scents that I normally would have disregarded before. I could sense when someone was behind me or around a corner, or what direction they had taken if I could no longer see them. It was all quite staggering.
And, to my immense pride, when I had challenged my mentor to a race, I had come out the victor. And I held it over his head as often as I could when his occasional bout of arrogance exceeded the level of my patience.
But one day, six months after I had begun on my long journey to the Brotherhood, instead of being woken up at the crack of dawn, I slept until I woke up on my own. Which wasn't much later considering the habit. But still, it was a shock not waking up to Achilles standing over my bedside brandishing his cane like a sword.
I got up and dressed in my new black hunting pants that Ellen had tailored for me, as the ones I had originally brought with me had ripped, and another one of Connor's old shirts. I couldn't go into town to buy new shirts because I was still a wanted woman, but Connor was willing to lend me all of his old clothing.
I walked downstairs in my bare feet and my waist length hair hanging loose on my back, still suspicious of why no one had woken me up. It was unlike either of my mentors to let me slack off on my training.
I crept along the side of the wall and towards the living room with all the silence my hard work had granted me, thinking that maybe this was another test. I peeked around the wall into the living room, where Achilles would usually be, sitting by the fire or gazing out the window. He wasn't there.
I heard a floorboard creak behind me and the whooshing of air. My intuition, built from months of training, propelled my body into action. I sensed it was a blunt object, as the air lacked that metallic ringing that a blade carries with it, so I put my hand behind my head to catch the object flying at it. When my hand came into contact, I grasped it and yanked it out of whoever's hold it was in. I whipped around and held the blunt object in one hand, my dagger in the other, ready to fight with both if needed.
But when I turned around, it was just Achilles calmly standing in the hall, his hands casually placed behind his back and looking as if he had always been there. I looked to my hand. It was his wooden cane, the same one he liked to discipline Connor and I with. I handed it back to him respectfully. I didn't care to touch the damned thing.
So it had been a test after all. There had been four or five times during my training when one of my mentors would randomly attack me, just to see how my skills had improved. I hadn't passed a single one until now, and usually walked away with some kind of new injury. I had at least two scars from such occasions. He looked down at me with a critical eye and we stood in silence for a few long moments.
"You are ready." He said cryptically, before turning abruptly and limping away. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"Ready for what?" I asked, following after him. He turned the corner and stopped at a brass candelabra on the wall. He pulled it down and the familiar secret passageway was opened in the wall beside it. I had never spent a great deal of time here, only enough to practice with the dummy and learn about the Templars.
"You'll see." He told me simply. I stayed silent and followed him down the creaking stairs, knowing better than to argue with the old dark skinned man, as it would only result in a bruise to the knee compliments of that accursed cane he always carried with him. I followed him into the dimly lit basement, breathing in its musty, cramped scent. I saw Connor standing in the middle of the room with his arms crossed over his chest in front of the mannequin that once wore his Assassin's robes. He was imposing and handsome as always.
"She is ready." Achilles reiterated to Connor. He nodded and stepped aside, revealing the glorious sight behind him. I gasped in surprised wonder.
There, on the mannequin, hung a set of female robes.
The robes were similar in style to Connor's, only this jacket had cropped sleeves. It was in the style of the continental military jacket with long tails and red trim. Underneath it was a light blue under jacket for warmth, followed by what I assumed would be my breast bindings. The jacket was tied together with the signature red sash that all robes had with a simple metal Assassin's emblem on it. The pants would be my usual black hunting pants, along with a new leather belt with lots of places to hold my weapons. Instead of my worn hunting boots, I was surprised to find Native American leggings and buckskin moccasins.
And, best of all, on a stand beside the mannequin, I saw what looked like a leather wrist guard. A hidden blade. I swear you could see stars dancing in my eyes. Were these mine?
"Neela, you have gone through the training with remarkable speed. Never once have I heard you complain or whine about the difficulty, a feat that not even Connor had accomplished." he looked at Connor with a meaningful expression, "And have shown a vast improvement in your skills. I think it best that you have these. I had them tailored for you. Put them on." Achilles demanded. My heart leapt joyfully in my chest. He needn't ask me twice. I ripped the robes off the mannequin and ran into the dressing booth, eager to finally feel the Assassins robes on my skin.
A moment later I emerged with a huge smile on my face, my head held up proudly. I ran my hands over the material of my jacket, relishing in the crisp feel. I knew I would be reluctant to take these off later. Achilles looked on with a smile and Connor had a sort of dazed expression on his face, one I was unaccustomed to seeing. Perhaps the idea of my finally having graduated to this level had not been given enough time to sink in. Or perhaps, if I could flatter myself, I just looked good.
I flipped the hood up, grinning like some kind of mad fool and with a flick of my wrist, pulled out my new hidden blade, swinging it around in a flourish before retracting it. I felt as light as a feather, as weightless as air itself. Their was nothing in the world that could bring me down. I looked to my mentors, almost in tears and gave them the biggest smile my face could manage before cracking in two. I ran to Connor and gave him a tight hug, thoroughly surprising both men. Connor was practically frozen in my firm grip, which was natural because I was rarely confident enough to show such affection, and he certainly wasn't one to initiate it. I was much too happy to be embarrassed by my actions at that moment though.
"Thank you, Connor, thank you for everything." I told him gratefully before releasing him. He nodded once and gave me a rare almost smile that made my heart hammer in my bound chest. I turned to Achilles, who put one hand on my shoulder and smiled in a fatherly manner with a twinkle in his eye.
"Welcome to the brotherhood."
Yep, I totally skipped over training cuz I thought it was boring, plus it fit in excellently with the time frame. But now Neela is a full fledged assassin, which means that she gets to go on missions now. Oh here's a fun fact, if you look at the picture at the top of this page, you'll see Neela in both full assassin's garb and in colonial dress. I drew it before I started writing this. I will probably add updates to the robes as we go along, but keep reading and don't forget to review!
