HAYTHAM

Ziio took her time reading the letter. In the candlelight, her face changed from bitterness to slow understanding. She passed the parchment back, and looked up with wise eyes.

"When did you receive this?" she asked coolly.

"Earlier today," I replied.

Ziio nodded, glancing at the paper. "What does he mean, 'I have no choice'?"

I exhaled shortly. "He means nothing by it. William thinks he has a way with words; that he can sugar-coat them and reap rewards for it."

"Huh," she snorted. "I know many a man in Boston like that."

I wondered who on earth she could be talking about, but said nothing. I picked up my spoon and fiddled with it, before sipping a mouthful of broth. It was like green lava on my tongue; I grimaced and gulped. Ziio pretended not to notice, but stared at the rising steam from her bowl.

"What will you say? Will you call a meeting?"

"I suppose I must. Else they'll turn up on the porch unprompted and find you."

"You really don't have a choice," she murmured distantly.

"I never do."

Silence. I wondered how I could've been so bloody foolish as to give the game away to my men. They knew I was hiding something. It was obvious from the start. Well, if the worst came to the worst and they did find Ziio, at least we were not lovers anymore.

Well...that was what I wanted to believe. For our safety.

Up until now, Ziio had seemed so close; so very close, but impossibly distant. Untouchable, almost. Even the notion of falling for her again was against all odds in my rules. It simply wasn't done, and never should've happened in the first place.

Now...I wasn't sure. The real reason I was distancing myself from her was to stop myself from becoming too attached. It was an unhealthy addiction, wanting to see her flawless face every minute. There was no denying to any man that Ziio was beautiful and a charming woman...if only I had the practicality to stay away.

How could someone lodged inside my heart feel a thousand miles away? It was my stupid, goddamn duties that were obstructing us. That was the fault of my men.

"Haytham?"

"Hm?"

"May I ask you a question?"

"Please do."

In a feeble tone I'd never heard in Ziio before, she asked: "What...what made you want to become a Templar at the start?"

I swallowed with difficulty. Of all the questions Ziio could've asked me – she chose that? I sighed, and searched for a positive answer. There wasn't one. "It was never a question of want. It was a path I was guided into by my first master."

Ziio seemed intrigued. "How so?"

"My father was preening me as an Assassin from a young age. He taught me to use a sword aged just six." With pride I watched the amazement in her face unfurl. "The morals he raised me by were those of the Assassin Order. Nothing is true, everything is permitted, you know..."

"Yes, I know. Continue."

I was really getting into the story now. "But little did he know, our family friend Reginald Birch – who was courting my older sister – was a Templar. Templar through and through, he was. So when our house was attacked, my father murdered and my sister Jenny kidnapped, my fate fell into his hands." I leant into the candlelight to whisper. "For there, in that house, aged just ten, I made my first kill."

Ziio gasped. It was a sweet, feminine, hand-to-the-mouth gesture, which I had to divert my gaze from before I did something foolish. Ziio wasn't sure quite how to react, so she murmured: "You were only ten?"

"Indeed." I just about contained myself after looking into her wide eyes. "It was a man who had hold of my mother, so I killed him. Poor Mother. She was distraught for days, having witnessed it. Her innocent ten-year-old was a killer."

"Every mother's worst nightmare," she breathed. "I fear that about my son sometimes. Please, carry on."

"Yes. So Birch offered to take me to Europe and train me...but what he didn't tell Mother was that he meant to train me as a Templar."

Ziio shook her head. "Why did you fall for it?"

I sighed, leaning my forehead on my arm. "I was so young; so naive. Besides," I said, looking distantly into the candle flame, "Birch never told me either. He told me that we were off looking for Jenny."

Ziio withdrew from the candlelight; I sat up in surprise. "He did what?" she barked passionately.

"I know. Shocking, isn't it just? And naturally...I believed him. So here I am now." I inspected the Templar ring on my finger. A symbol almost branded into my head, like I'd been brainwashed my entire life. Why was I only just realising it now? I never had a choice over bearing the Templar cross. No choice.

"I...I never knew your childhood was so dramatic."

I jerked my hand under the table, ashamed to be playing with it.

"So that is why you are in your Order. Not out of choice, but by the brainwashing and decisions of others inflicted upon you." Ziio's eyes were distantly focused, like telescopes searching the sky for understanding.

"When you put it like that..."

"Why could they not accept your choices?" Again, her voice was delicate. She knew how fragile our words were: one wrong move and we could be shouting at one another.

"In all honesty, I doubt now that I will ever be accepted as anything other than a Colonial Templar."

She noticed the resentment in my voice, and so did I. "Haytham..." she said, and the sound of my name on her lips was a blessing, "from what I have heard about your men, you are not even accepted as that. As a Colonial Templar."

"They are challenging, I grant you," I sighed, not daring to look up. "But they know that I am their master. They respect that."

"By leading you into more traps, that they might manipulate you? Just look at when Johnson led you astray last week. I doubt that they do respect you." Now it was Ziio's turn to sigh. Her hand crept across the table (my heart doubling backwards) and I realised that it wasn't to touch me. She reached for her spoon and took a mouthful of soup. "It's not a question of being accepted by them. It's a question of resilience."

"Resilience to what? The past?"

She nodded.

"Ziio, the lack of resilience was what brought you here! I am immune to regret in most respects, but..." My voice began cracking, like my luck of being right in this (civil) argument. "Whenever I pass your village, regret pierces me. Your voice is still telling me that I am wrong. It's like...like you're...the one part of my life that I cannot move on from."

You fool, I thought. You should not have said that.

Ziio stared back placidly. She neither invited nor discouraged me to stop speaking. So I continued.

"So when I saw smoke rising from the valley that day...it was the final straw. You see? My lack of resilience to my past saved your life."

"But Haytham..." Ziio looked like she wanted to say something, but couldn't find sensitive words for it. She brushed her braids away from her face, gazed honestly through me, and murmured: "Isolating your heart from the things that made you happy? That is not immunity. That is cold. Resilience comes from nurturing what you believe is right; dismissing what is not. Taking those rights forward to the future."

I shuddered. "Then why does the future seem so dark? I'm fighting against the wrong done by others, and my mistakes. Where am I going wrong?"

"That is your most fatal mistake." This time, Ziio's hand slipped over mine and locked in place. Her eyes, her wisdom, my throat, my heart, were locked; frozen, in that moment. Why was I melting like this? It was only Ziio.

Only Ziio?

"Tell me honestly: does the work you do as a Templar seem fair in your own mind?" she asked. "If this is the path you supposedly cannot escape, do you at least feel comfortable travelling down it?"

Silence. I blinked repeatedly, but neither the shock nor Ziio's gaze went away. Was she really...seducing me into the truth? Haytham Kenway, who feared nothing, was shuddering at the thought of lying?

My hand shook under her grasp. Taking a deep breath, steadying it and searching for the answer, I returned her look of deep honesty.

"No."

She didn't even blink. She simply nodded. "I see."

I was not simply telling the truth to Ziio: I was convincing myself; I was coaxing the core belief away from all the lies inflicted on me over these years. This was the first time I'd been true enough to do that...and it was all thanks to Ziio.

"You really make me wonder. I had no idea that you were so philisophical," I smiled.

Ziio laughed. "I try," she mumbled, suddenly looking at her hair.

"You know..." I began thoughtfully, regaining my grip on her hand, "if I ever had the chance to resign as a Grand Master...I would."

"Really?"

"Without hesitation."

She beamed at me. "Perhaps you are more wilful than you seem. Let us pray that Ratohnhaké:ton has inherited this from you."

We squeezed each other's hand; we were probably thinking along the same lines, but were far too scared to say so. We'd exhausted ourselves for tonight. This passion could continue in the morning.

"Let's eat," I grinned.

Woo! It's the weekend, everyone! And I've at last planned out the ENTIRE story of Everbound. All I can say right now is that it's going to be VERY long. Like, SERIOUSLY long.

Ah well! No harm in that, eh?

Sorry if this went on a bit. I just felt these two needed to have a placid, deep conversation. So there it is...I'll update soon, please review! Thanks for reading :D