A/N: Shout out to LittleMiniMe21 and Adamantia13 for their reviews, reading them makes me happy. Anyway, I should probably address that this story only abides by the lore established in first game. Anything past Syndicate pretty much broke the lore, and I prefer the historically accurate creation of the assassins.

Chapter IX: The Truth About Our Creed

Radio silence for two weeks. Camped in an old dusty warehouse. Damn what as life I lead.

Her left shoulder had quieted down to a dull, throbbing pain. Moving it still hurt, but at least it wasn't infected. Every breath taken sent a shot of pain throughout her chest, dark purple splotches were painted across the skin. Mr. Doche had returned to his work, and the woman who was taking care of her was somewhere in the building, but Juliet didn't know where. Boxes were stacked from floor to ceiling. Plastic containers littered the floor. An old forklift sat abandoned to the left. In the distance, sirens sounded. Shifting to the edge of her bed, Juliet slid to the floor, feet silently hitting the concrete. A small whimper escaped her lips, but she pushed herself forward into a slow walk, right hand shifting to drape across her chest in a protective hold.

Movement caught her eye, only to be the woman with a bottle of water and three thick manila folders. The woman unscrewed the cap and handed Juliet the bottle, and as she sipped the woman opened the first folder.

"Mr. Doche instructed me to give you these. Read them all." Furling her eyebrows, she slipped a finger underneath the cover, a slightly yellowed page looked up at her. Upon closer inspection, it revealed it was only a copy, but the content was no less older for this, the calligraphy and spelling alone showed its age. Scratches in the margins showed hasty translations from what looked like French.

"Madame Aveline has left New Orleans, and trouble has already begun to arise, the Spanish closely watch any activities at the dock, must be careful of goings to and from warehouse. I would hope my lady finds what she is looking for and returns soon." More entries are translated, including the mentioning of an elusive company man and the heroics of one Aveline. "Jeane has passed, he is the third death this quarter, suspect assassination. Reports from the bayou have decreased, trouble. No word from Madame." "Supplies on ships stolen, Spanish suspect." "Madame cleared bayou, supplies for business* has grew, new Master has received word, Madame en route to frontier to confront Davidson."

Each paragraph were dated differently, suggesting the entries were filtered, and the names were sometimes followed with a speculative question mark. The first two pages were late 1700s, mostly 1760s-early 1780s. She flipped several pages, passing translated Russian notes, though narrowing her eyes at what was obviously mentioning the assassination of the Romanovs, which she really didn't want to read about the murder of innocent children. She closed the first folder and opened the third, because who needs numerical order? Finding the third titled under Crusades. Juliet's eyes widened with awe, such old history, right underneath her fingers.

The 9

Note: The writings of most civilians of Masyaf and some Rafiqs have not survived

"Masyaf under siege ? Al Mualim ordered attack. Sent to Jerusalem to guard Bureau until new rafiq arrives. Templar guards everywhere."

"Novice's assassination was successful, the city is under wide alert, please note."

"The Master has returned to Masyaf, he already has a new assignment, can't Al Mualim send someone else for a change?"

"Damascus is relieved to see The Master. He has done his duty well. Please note."

"Acres' gates are a massacre. Caution. Novices advised to find new assignment elsewhere."

"Jerusalem on high alert."

"Acre on high alert."

"Damascus on high alert."

"Robert De Sable en route to Jerusalem. It is time."

"The Master burned Al Mualim. Who will lead us?"

Juliet's fingers slid under the last sentence. Who was The Master? She recognized Al Mualim as the leader, if the whining note meant anything, but this Master, he must have been special.

"Father, mother, and brother have left for Mongolia. Malik has taken charge in his stead. Mireti has started to walk. I am to be on watch at the gate."

There are even less writings after that, the most of the remaining being broken or missing several pieces. Later writings start to veer into translated middle French, speaking of the persecution of the Templars. Must not have been very successful.

Juliet is so engrossed in her history lessons that she doesn't notice the soft footsteps until a shadow looms over her.

"If I was a Templar, you'd be dead."

Juliet slams the folder shut and flinches. Her eyes travel upwards to meet the inquisitive stare of a man.

" Name's Fred, you gotta name?" "You can call me Jasey." "I'm not a fae, you can give me your name." "No thanks." The guy, Fred, rolled his eyes but accepted her answer.

"I'm going to be your very own Julian Michaels." "In case you haven't noticed, I'm a bit out of order right now." "I can work with that. Here's how it goes: I'll be teaching you how to climb, stalk, and fight. I don't care how much climbing you've done. We're going over it. Can you use a gun?" "No?" Fred clicked his tongue. "Well you're gonna learn. No modern assassin can do their job without using a gun, and we have silencers now, which is cool." Juliet's focus shifts from his words to noticing how the energy he gives off is a mix between bubblegum blueberry from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and possibly a less wholesome Sportacus from Lazy Town.

"How much have you read?" He points, drawing her attention to the folders.

"All of the first and most of the third."

"Well, here's the Sparknotes: Us Assassin's were formed during the Crusades, the master and greatest of all time was Altair. We expanded into Turkey, Italy, France, China, Britain, Russia, you name it, we've been there, protecting the free will of all from the shadows. The Templars too, with their grubby little hands trying to enslave the world. Say a name right now, they were probably one of us."

"Uh... John Adams?" Fred's face fell. "No, although I'm sure Samuel Adams was aligned with us, if the Sons of Liberty mean anything. Anyway, where do you want to start?"

"Can I at least get some bigger blades?"