HAYTHAM

Heartlessness.

It drove me for years. I wouldn't go as far as to say possession. Rather, as time went on, I developed a slightly sadistic outer shell. It was a hard crust on my healthy heart; it gave me the will to obliterate what stood in my way. Was that a virtue? Absolutely not. Had I let this crust grow any more – like the hair on my head – I may have even ended up killing Connor. Why wouldn't I? He was an enemy, a danger and someone I hardly knew.

Ziio's kiss didn't slowly chip away this cruelty. She instantly crumbled it to dust.

This void in my heart was never meant for knowledge. As a Templar, I'd always believed that there was an absolute. There was an answer that would fill the heart of man: the amulet. I would stop at nothing until I knew what mystery it held. But what was that cold stone to Ziio's irresistible presence? She was the spring, thawing the seemingly eternal winter about me.

I was melting on the outside, too. Her delicate fingers traced around my eyes. I wasn't worried about being Haytham, now: I was free to weep with happiness. She caught the tears like snowflakes, reflecting them in her own, entranced eyes. She parted her lips to speak – but rather than her voice, all that came out was another kiss. And then another. The third, she stayed by me, fingers entwined in the back of my head.

That was when the door opened.

Ziio jumped in fright before I did; the shock was like pins prickling my spine. Before the doorway – his face somewhat disturbed – Connor leaned away from us. In hindsight, his reaction was quite comical...although it hardly seemed it when my face was a deeper red than his waist sash. My hands buried themselves in my lap, embarrassed.

"Oh. Sorry," Connor winced awkwardly.

Ziio tried her best not to smile. Even so, the hidden sunshine in her face was not so concealed. She must've noticed that our son was still slightly awkward around me (despite our rapidly strengthening relationship). Quite why Ziio found it amusing was beyond me.

"Sorry? What for?" she replied.

Connor opened his mouth, dumbfounded, but swiftly shut it when Eva re-entered. She was a very captivating woman, I realised, now she was out of Assassin robes. Or rather, she would've been quite beautiful to me...if I wasn't so besotted with Ziio. Brushing Connor out of the way, Eva didn't seem to notice her intrusion. "Haytham, a word if you please?"

I glanced sideways at Ziio; she nodded in consent. "Fire away."

"No – outside again," the Englishwoman corrected. "It'll only take a moment."

I sighed. What was with all the mystery aboard the Belle Rose? Was it so private that Ziio – a member of George and Jack's own crew – wasn't eligible to hear us? "Why?"

"Please – this really is rather important."

What on earth could this be about? Suddenly it dawned on me: Templars. What else would Eva want to talk about? She'd want to make sure of my affiliations before blindly welcoming me aboard. That would prove difficult: I barely knew of my own loyalties anymore. Right now, all that mattered was Ziio.

Reluctantly I stood, sweaty palms brushing off my cloak. Eva held the door as I strode down the hallway. To my surprise, Aaron and Alexa stood at the very end, smiling at me. I attempted a smile back. I was even more surprised when Eva stopped me – just as I passed the twins. She stood behind them and placed a hand on each of their shoulders. Surely the twins weren't involved in this private talk?

"Sorry to call you out, Haytham. I have to know how much Ziio has told you."

I frowned. "Why not ask me at the same time as Connor?"

"I had to be sure she'd told the same details," Eva replied in a murmur. "Knowing how sensitive to you Ziio is, I thought she might've...censored some parts as not to upset Connor."

"Why would she? Connor is a grown man, not a child." The words rung like acid on my lips: I'd missed my own son's growing up.

"I know, only...oh, it matters not. In which case, you've reached her moving to Johnson Hall."

I pursed my lips and nodded.

"Let me warn you: something absolutely despicable happened to Ziio at that hell house, and she may find it difficult to talk about. So I decided – well, Aaron and Alexa decided – it'd be best that we informed you first."

"Wait – if this is what I presume, then I already know. Ziio was..." I trailed off. Was it appropriate to mention it in front of the twins? "Raped."

The twins nodded bitterly. Just to think that two delightful children – Ziio's image, no less – were the product of a horrendous crime. How did she seem to love them so? Who was their father, and how did he sleep at night?

"I'm afraid so," Eva sighed. "A cruel memory for her to relive. Tread the waters of the subject carefully, would you?"

"Of course," I replied compassionately.

"There may be a few details Mother will not mention." It was Alexa, whom – judging by the looks she was getting – Eva did not expect to speak. "For example, our names are not truly Aaron and Alexa, but Ohitekah and Imala."

"I see." Unimportant, even if interesting.

"And by law, and according to the Church..." It was Aaron's turn now. "Eva and George are our parents. It is to protect Mother's identity when –"

"Aaron!" Eva pressed her finger against her lips. "Ziio hasn't explained this part, yet."

This information confused me further. "But how –"

"Ziio will explain later," she interrupted, exasperated. "You can return, if you'd like."

"If that's possible?"

Eva shrugged. "I will leave you to it, then."

With that, she turned around and continued down the corridor. Aaron and Alexa stayed put. I stared after Eva beside them for a moment, my final question itching on my tongue.

"Hold on – Eva?"

She turned.

"Does...does Ziio know who their father is?"

"She rarely talks about him," the Assassin replied, "but who would?"

I nodded. "I understand. Apologies for asking."

Without acknowledging I'd said anything at all, Eva turned and strolled away again. Just as I was about to go back to the cabin, Aaron tapped me on the arm.

"Do you mind if I come with you?" he asked. "I need to ask Mother something."

"Of course."

I couldn't help it: I studied his face as he spoke. Yes, there definitely were some non-Ziio features about him. He was a paler complexion even than Connor. His eyes – despite the identical brown – resembled teardrops rather than circles. His nose was bent more into a hook shape; it was smaller as well. I hated to admit it, but he and Alexa truly were beautiful children. Even so, how awful to know they were the product of rape. No child should have to know they were born out of hatred.

"Are you alright?" It was Alexa, repeating her mother's exact words.

"Very well, thank you."

We walked up to the closed wooden door. I reached out to open it, but suddenly Alexa stopped me. She tucked her black hair behind her ear, pressing it to the doorframe. A few seconds passed; I looked at her inquisitively.

"They are speaking Mohawk," she whispered.

"What?" Aaron wrestled past me to listen. "What are they saying?"

"Ohitekah!" his sister hissed. "It is probably private."

It probably was. Ziio had already spent a moment with me. It seemed only fair that she had one with Connor, too. Furthermore, he'd seemed a little uneasy out on deck. "Do you think I'd be better leaving them alone for a while?"

"You can come into the kitchens and help us," Aaron piped up. "Eva set us the task of helping to prepare the dinner."

Now I knew about the assault, would spending time with the twins be unnerving? No. It wasn't as if I had better ways to pass the time. "Very well. I will come with you."

The kitchens on the Belle Rose were far more more elaborate than Faulkner's. Rather than some tinpot corner of the ship, the wooden surfaces stretched vastly. On a clean fireplace in the corner, a copper pot released clouds of steam. Stew-scented steam, I thought. The appearance of the Assassins made me forget my hunger; now it bubbled on the surface like the tempest.

The room was seemingly empty. Aaron and Alexa reached for two bowls, walked over to the pot and started dishing up the stew. I unbuttoned my cloak and began to help. The only sound was the clink against the porcelain bowls, and the satisfying crackle of the fire. After every bowl, we each returned to the surfaces to fetch another. I felt obliged to talk to these children: we would be spending months at sea with them, after all.

"Tell me something." They looked up simultaneously. "Is it not strange? Growing up with two names."

Alexa shook her head. "No. Eva only christened us as Aaron and Alexa as not to look suspicious."

Aaron scoffed at his sister. "No, it was because Ohitekah and Imala are impossible to say! You should have heard George attempt our Mohawk names. His poor English tongue..."

I chuckled inwardly, thinking of myself meeting Ziio. "Why does your mother not have a Christian name to Eva?"

"'Ziio' is not so difficult," Alexa said from the counter, "and her slave nickname brought back hurtful memories. If Mother had the right to one thing, it was her own name."

"But she had fewer rights than many," Aaron chimed bitterly. "Or so she often says."

"Sadly so. And..." I phrased it cautiously: "How much of her past life does she share?"

"As much as she felt she could." Alexa returned from the counter to refill another bowl. "Mother's way of seeing the past is that it is done. No more betrayal, no more work, no more...well, she never told us everything."

"Do you wish she would?"

"No," Aaron replied. "It would upset her too much."

Already I was tasting the difference between the twins: while Alexa was careful and mature with her words, Aaron seemed more boisterous (yet somehow, more sensitive). I nodded. "Of course it would. So, erm...back to the names. Did Ziio choose Aaron and Alexa herself?"

Aaron shook his head. "No, Eva and George. Aaron Stirling was George's father and Alexa...I think Eva liked the name."

"No doubt, much simpler to pronounce."

"They never had any trouble with Ziio or Soyala, for a reason I do not know."

"Hm," I murmured, almost to myself. "The same could not be said for my son."

"Ratohnhaké:ton?" Aaron piped up.

"Yes, that's it. I could write the word, but it'd mean nothing. He is Connor to me."

"Achilles named him?" Alexa sounded about as surprised as I was: how was she acquainted with Achilles?

"It had to be Achilles. It was never me, so..."

"Only, I heard that he had a son, long ago. Connor Davenport?"

The name seemed familiar. "Who, I presume, is no longer with us?"

Alexa shook her head. Suddenly a rush of empathy came across me. I knew that Achilles had lost his wife to illness. He'd lost a child as well? Dreadful. I imagined losing Connor for a moment. When once it would've only pained me a little, now the sheer thought was unbearable.

"That explains why he always seemed so cold."

"Alexa!" Aaron called from the counter. "Could you help me fetch some more bowls? George did not count them well."

She rolled her eyes at me, to which I smiled. "Yes. Hold on a moment."

I watched her hurry into a corner room...and a strange thought occurred to me. Why was Alexa so welcoming, having known what men had done to her mother in the past? Perhaps she was cold by nature, like Ziio. Then why was I an exception? It was understandable with Connor: he was their brother, after all. I was nothing to her or to Aaron.

The twins re-emerged with armfuls of white bowls. I hurried over to the counter to take a few from their hands. Where was this helpfulness coming from? Only a few nights ago, Connor had asked me for some form of help, which I refused. This entire day was a dawn like no other. Like a morning sky, it painted me in a completely different light.

"Thank you," Alexa said breathlessly, bringing me to my senses. "You speak as if you understand Achilles. Losing a child."

How observant. "I've never had that misfortune. Well...you can hardly lose what you never knew you had."

Alexa half-frowned. "Mother always said you knew our brother."

I was completely taken aback. "She talked to you about me?"

"Yes! All the time!" the young girl laughed.

Why did I seem so surprised? I was a common topic between Ziio and Soyala – but then again, anything went when the women were desperate for company. Somewhere deep down a certain guilt arose in me. If only she knew of all my crimes; of all the blood that stained my blade. "Well, I hardly knew Connor. I only learned of his existence in 1760. And when the two of us finally met this year, he wasn't quite...what I expected."

"S-so you never considered yourself a father?"

"Not seriously."

Why was I confiding in a child? The twins couldn't be older than twelve. Alexa did not seem to mind, however: she glanced at her brother – over by the pot of stew – and then back at me.

"You know," she said thoughtfully, "whenever Aaron or I asked about our father, Mother would say that we hadn't one. But often she said: 'One day, you may meet a man you can call your father. He is kind, brave, ambitious...and he cares deeply for me.'"

"Really?"

Alexa nodded, a grin spreading across her face. I held my breath – desperate not to gasp – but inside, my head was hurting simply trying to comprehend it.

Ziio meant me. I was the 'kind, brave, ambitious' man who cared deeply for her.
Surely not? You are none of those.

I soon realised why Ziio would say such things: she judged my traits on 1760. After a decade and a half, such words were false. I was a selfish, untrustworthy and brutal – almost anyone I knew could vouch for that. I wasn't sure what to say. Ziio honestly considered me as Aaron and Alexa's father? Such a strong word. I couldn't picture it, but I glowed with honour. Father.

"Goodness," was all I could muster.

"What's this?" Aaron had re-joined us by the counter. "What did Mother used to say?"

"About our father."

"Oh, yes!" He turned to me, now beaming like his sister. "I often wondered who she spoke of. Now, here he is."

Still dumbfounded, my words came out in a clutter. "I-I'm flattered Ziio would think of me in such a way. But..." I itched my neck, then laughed nervously. "I feel she overestimated me. I am none of those qualities, when once I was."

The twins exchanged a knowing look. "Mother would already object to that," said Aaron.

"You...believe her?"

"I would like to."

Silence. Aaron's face reddened slightly; Alexa looked me straight in the eye. God, why were Ziio's eyes so piercing? And why did these beautiful children have to inherit them, that I was flustered whenever they glanced my way? For a moment I pictured myself among them. It would be a long time before I could consider them my children. But what a future that would be, to be admired in such a way. Was it plausible?

Yes. Now more than ever.

I wasn't sure what came over me. I chuckled, reached forward and ruffled Aaron's hair. "We'll see."

Hi folks! A quick update, I know, but the next one is on its way!

Looking at these insane stats, Everbound now has 100 followers, 140 reviews, 80 favourites and 33.5K hits altogether. I just wanna say thank you for all of your support – you guys are the best as ever! *flings hearts*

I'm on holiday at the moment with little time (and wifi!) but I'll be back soon and I'll be able to update in the blink of an eye by then. Thank you!

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