Disclaimer - Assassin's Creed and Prototype belong to their respective owner, Ubisoft and Activision. This story is beta by Trondason.
A Chaotic Return
14 years later...
January 7th, 1770
Alex was glaring and frowning, but it did not matter to him if he was scaring people away. He continued glaring at the young man who was running house to house to deliver letters and collected his money. The current assassin slash bounty hunter was tapping his feet on the small steps of his house, impatiently waiting for the boy to finally notice that someone would kill him if he did not come to his doorstep at this instance. His glare must have finally taken effect as the young mailman shivered slightly and turned to look at him.
The boy was searching through his bag of letters and pulled out a small stack of letters, which Alex snatched from him and threw one gold coin to the deliverer before he went back into his house, slamming the door close as he went through the letters and skillfully threw assassination contracts to one side of his desk and useless party invitations to the fireplace, but the stack did not have a letter he was waiting for.
For the past ten years, Haytham would always send a letter to him when his great deed of defeating the Assassin crossed the Atlantic Ocean. Alex was glad to see the letter his two great friends sent each time he received them and was happy for the couple. He sent letters back, of course, but he never got the reply for them, only new letters of what had recently happened on the other side of the world. Though recently, he hadn't received any letters from Haytham and he was starting to worry as each month passed by, almost a year now, without receiving one single new letter from the British.
He spent the past decade in bounty hunting, assassination and traveling, sometimes he had missed the letters, but Gabriel or Giry would have kept his letters during his absence. So far, the messengers he had paid to deliver the replies never returned and those who did return said they couldn't find the recipient of his letters.
Alex began pacing in front of the fireplace as his mind drifted back to Assassin's memories. After having an agreement with Birch and the mayor, Alex crept back in to consume Assassin's body, which sometimes he regretted, because he discovered something he wished he never knew. There was a secret war behind humanity's entire history. It was a war between Templars and Assassins. The Templars fought for control over humanity and the Assassins guarded the freedom of will. Personally, Alex did not want to meddle with this affair of secrecy and conspiracy, he saw the pros and cons of both side, and he refused to take side in this endless war. Despite his refusal, the Assassin souls tried their best to sway him into their side to the point that he created a heavy set of mental doors to shut them up. The first reason of his refusal was as stated above, he did not want to get involved with this eternal war, and the second was because Haytham was a Templar, he was his friend and Ziio's husband. He would sooner die than make Ziio a widow.
After some more pacing, mental dialogues and a few more memory dives, Alex went to his desk and began writing letters to his allies. He decided that he would return to America.
The next morning...
It was a slow day. Light rain and cold wind were not the best conditions that created happy workers or citizens. Alex was standing near the port, a portable chest and traveller bag near his feet. Standing beside him was: Madame Giry, Gabriel, and a scruffy-looking man named Clayton Agard. The years were kind to Madame Giry, with the money from the bounty, she was able to reclaim her house and some of her fortune, and with Alex's idea of a charity-base program to help the homeless, Giry helped many with the charity galas she planned for the rich nobles who all made one donation or another for fame or image. Gabriel was Gabriel, the thief who provided him with information and planning different heists for the growing number of thieves who had joined him, and he was still the daredevil who was not ashamed of showing his indifference towards his bed partner's gender. Alex had to bail Gabriel out two or three times from the scandals he made. Clayton was a mercenary who had joined their band of misfits a year after Alex's first bounty hunt. The half-English and half-French man was on parole in his country, he escaped to London, hoping to find job and freedom. Alex saved him from persecution and later when the virus found out that the man was a natural in swordplay, he and Gabriel helped the poor man to become a mercenary who currently led his own group of hired arms. The mercenaries were Alex's army in a way whenever he had to storm a place by force to reach a target.
Alex was groaning and whining like child as he pushed Giry's hands away from him, 'Mom, will you stop that already!'
'Then you should know that as your mother, I have the right to, hmm, what was that word you use... ah, fuss! Yes. I have the right to fuss over you,' Giry exclaimed as she continued tugging and straightening his clothes just like a mother did to a child when they were going to a formal ball.
Gabriel, on the other hand, was sniggering and Clayton was doing his best to keep his thin and small smile from turning a face-splitting grin. Alex was glaring at his two accomplices before he returned his furious gaze on Giry who totally ignored him and continued with her perfectionist observation on every single imperfect detail of his clothes.
'Giry, if you continue to tug my coat, I will not hesitate to slap you for that,' Alex threatened lightly.
'I will like to see you do that and see if you survive mine afterwards,' the old lady countered as she continued fixing his shirt and coat. 'Now hold still and let me do my inspection.'
Gabriel pretended to cough into his fist, though it sounded like a laugh, before he said with a Cheshire smile, 'My dear Zeus, if you want to, I can go find a male tailor to fix your clothes if you want.'
'For the last time, Gabriel, I am not interested in men or women,' Alex sneered at the thief.
Gabriel gave him a mocking pout as he placed his two gloved hands over his heart and said dramatically, 'Oh, you hurt my feelings Zeus. Oh my dear patron, how can you do this to me, I have been so loyal to you and gave you all those tributes in careful selection. I have done nothing but serve you.'
'More like corruption, voleur,' said the mercenary, finally taking pity for the assassin who gave a grateful look for defending him, and gave the thief a light shove. 'After failing so many times, you still try convaincre him, tu should know by now that Zeus n'aime pas your jumelages.'
'And you still speak French in your English,' Gabriel muttered unhappily. 'It's a miracle we even understand you.'
'Je vie dans France presque toute ma vie,' said Clayton in French. 'C'est mon héritage, Gabriel!'
'I can't understand you when you speak completely in French, Agard,' Gabriel complained.
Alex sighed tiredly as both men started bickering about the languages and cultures of the two countries, he wondered if both men would still be here when he returned, though their argument attracted the attention of Giry who, after failing to push the two annoying voices out of her mind, took matters into her own hands to shut them up. The elder woman went to tug on both men's ear and pinched them, hard, causing both thief and mercenary to cry out in mercy.
'We are here to see Zeus off, not to listen to this argument again,' Giry scolded them and refused to let go of their ears while Alex smirked happily and amusingly at the trio. 'So cease your bad attitudes, young men or neither of you will have an ear left.'
After a huge of amount of begging and shouting "mercy", both men finally got their ear back, though they whispered curses at the old lady between them, causing Alex to shake his head exasperatedly at their antics. He wondered how did he put up with all of them for even a year.
Though their laugh and jokes were soon over and a solemn look was cast over them when the quartermaster of the ship, Isis, called out to him. While Alex had his poker face on, he couldn't help but feel a bit awkward with the whole farewell-business and his allies mirrored his feeling, except Madame Giry. Not that he blamed them, he was leaving, for good in a way, he had his affairs organized and prepared, everything he had, other than what he kept for the journey to America, was to share equally among his three comrades. Though his house was given to Clayton, Giry had the jewels that he had received as payment, and Gabriel had the assassination contracts and heist plans.
The elder lady's eyes were brimmed with unshed tears as she went to hug him, unlike the time when Alex had last hugged Ziio, the virus had slowly gotten used to receiving hugs from Giry, so he wasn't as petrified as he was back then, but it only worked with Giry. The one time Gabriel tried to hug him, the thief spent an entire month to nurse his injured cheek and had locked himself in his house, claiming that he looked monstrous with his bruise. In Alex's opinion, he got lucky that he didn't break his neck or something.
Giry removed herself from him and quickly brought out a handkerchief to wipe the tears off the corner of her eyes. Gabriel took his step forward and extended his hand to Alex who shook it light firm grip. The thief grinned before he said, 'I hope you'll find the person you seek and return soon. I still have some lads and lasses for you to meet.'
'No thank you,' Alex replied quickly, causing Gabriel to burst out laughing and clapped his shoulder playfully.
'Still, you do well to remember us, Zeus,' said Gabriel with a small smile and arms crossed. 'I don't want to be forgotten so easily, so send us letters or gifts. Also, know that if you ever need help, we will be here for you. We will come if you ever need us, brother.'
Alex nodded in thanks as Gabriel let Clayton speak with him, the mercenary simply grasped his shoulder and the virus mirrored the action. There was no need for words to be shared, this small act of friendship and comradeship had already told Alex everything he needed to know. Clayton stepped back in line with Giry and Gabriel at his sides. Alex went to pick up his stuff and boarded the naval ship as crewmen began preparing for their departure, while Alex settled at the side of the ship and watched his friends waving at him. The anchor was up and the ship was slowly moving, Alex waved back at his friend who moved along the ship on the harbour's bridge.
Alex smirked slightly as a motto the Assassins used sounded in his mind. He looked at his friends and shouted, 'SAFETY AND PEACE, FRIENDS!'
66 days later...
Alex swore and cursed mentally, as he got off of Isis, of all the days he could arrive in Boston, it had to March 5th, the day that marked the Boston Massacre. Tension and unease were all over the air despite the cold and frosty weather. People were nervous. Alex paid some men to bring his belongings to the Green Dragon tavern as he began exploring this familiar yet foreign city. The virus was careful in every step he took until he found an empty spot where he climbed onto the rooftop and began his journey through the city.
It was at King Street, out sheer luck, that he found the man he was looking for. Alex stared at Haytham who still wore the navy blue getup he had many years ago, but his hair was no longer dark brown, it was completely a dark shade of grey. The virus silently climbed down in an alley and began pushing his way through the crowd as he headed towards the Englishman. Suddenly a gunshot rang in the air, silencing the gathered crowd before one of the Redcoats shouted, 'Damn you, fire!'
The squad of Redcoats fired at the people at random, panic and fear arouse and the crowd began running and shoving, Alex pushed and shoved with his lightest strength to reach Haytham, but the man was already leaving in opposite direction of the crowd, watching the man slowly moving further away and there were still many civilians in his way, Alex felt his blood boiled at the chaos around him and he put all his anger into one shout, 'HAYTHAM!'
Haytham seemed to hear him over the cacophony of loud screams and turned to look at who shouted his name, but before Alex could call out to the man again, a Redcoat came over and slammed the butt of his rifle into his face. He yelled to his fellow soldiers, 'I got the savage! I got the savage! I got the sa-AHHH!'
Alex had already slammed his tomahawk into the man's throat to shut his mouth, but the dead man's cries had already drawn attention of the Redcoats in the area. The Blacklight virus' eyes went to look for Haytham, only to find the British having already left, causing him to growl in frustration as he began leaving with Redcoats hot on his tail. He made sharp turns here and there, loosing them for a moment as his eyes went to the dreaded leaf wagon. Alex would have begged to whatever god in existence that the wagon wouldn't crumble under his weight, if he was religious, as he dove into it. He held his breath, not that he had one, as his sense of hearing picked the footsteps of British soldiers around the wagon. When they left, Alex decided to wait for a few more minutes before checking to see in the coast was clear, he shifted among the irritating dead leaves, wanting to take a small peek outside when something jumped onto him.
Alex had to still himself from morphing his hands into sharp lethal claws as his hands went to grab the shoulders of the person as the Redcoats came back. The virus quickly put his hand over the mouth of whoever was hiding with him, he felt the boy, he was sure it was a boy judging by the muscle and height, froze as the Redcoats began searching the area again. Both man and boy refused to move an inch, even though their position was rather inconvenient.
Alex relaxed slightly when he couldn't hear any footsteps and the boy breathed a sigh of relief, he let go of the child and pushed the leaves off him to greet the cold air of the snowy night. Alex looked down to see who was hiding with him and both of them stared at the other in shock.
Alex was surprised to see that the person was a Kanien'kehá:ka and the boy seemed equally surprised to see one of his people in this town. A lighter shade of tan skin, messy black hair with a small braid decorated with a single bead, traditional Kanien'kehá:ka robes, on his back was strapped with a quiver of arrows and a bow, and a tomahawk was slung on his hip just like Alex did with his own weapon. The virus knew very well that the Mohawk preferred to keep to themselves, he really didn't know why someone like this boy came to the city in times like this.
'Who are you?' Alex asked in fluent Kanien'kehá:ka, he sometimes thought it would get rusty after a decade.
'My name is Ratonhnhaké:ton,' the boy said as he got off of him.
Alex's eyes widened at the name as he stared at the boy more closely, taking in every small details. Yes, he could see it now, the subtle features of Haytham on the boy's face and Ziio's dark chocolate eyes. For some reasons, his throat felt as dry as his lips, he asked in a small voice, 'Are you... Kaniehtí:io's son?'
Ratonhnhaké:ton hesitantly answered, 'Yes, I am.'
Alex was uncertain what had gotten into him, because for the first time in his life and with Dr. Mercer's life added, he intentionally hugged someone without anyone pushing him to do it. This was his two best friends' son, a son who was named after him, not specifically him, but still, the thought was there. As quickly as he had initiated the hug, he stepped back from the boy, who stunned by his sudden and unexpected action, and cleared his throat. Ratonhnhaké:ton was looking at everywhere but the man standing in front of him.
Both were snapped back to reality when the shouts of commands to Redcoats sounded, Alex took the boy's wrists and pulled him into the shadow with him. A group of three soldiers came into the alley and glued a wanted poster on the wall, Alex's sharp eyes saw a detailed image of Ratonhnhaké:ton with a reward of ten pounds. The virus scoffed at the reward, he had hunted men and women who were worth more than that. When the soldiers left to stamp a wanted poster at another wall, Alex brought his mouth closed the boy's ear and whispered urgently, 'Come with me, I'll get you to safety.'
Alex tugged the boy after him as he moved around the alleys, keeping away from the main streets as much as possible as they approached the Green Dragon tavern. He brought Ratonhnhaké:ton to the back of the tavern, putting his hands on the boy's shoulder, and instructed him, 'Listen to me, Ratonhnhaké:ton. I need you to stay here and keep yourself hidden. I am going to get a room in this tavern, when I reach my room, I will open the window for you to slip in. Until then, stay here and be hidden.'
The boy nodded in understanding and quickly went to hide behind some stack-up boxes. Alex quickly went inside the tavern to greet the female owner nonchalantly and ordered his dinner. Afterwards, he quickly headed to his reserved room with his tray of food, feeling the eyes of some unsavoury characters watching him as he ascended the staircase. Alex quietly slipped into his room and locked the door. He quickly went to the window for the Native boy to come in, he whistle a low note as Ziio had taught him a long time ago to signal to their allies to move onward or remain away.
Ratonhnhaké:ton got out of the wagon and stealthily climbed the wall to reach Alex's room.
Ratonhnhaké:ton entered the room with a thanks to the older man and studied the room he was in, looking for a quick exit or hiding place if it was needed. In the back of his mind, he wondered who this man was and he still did not understand why he trusted the man. No one had mentioned his mother's name since the tragedy that destroyed half of his village and took his mother's life. The Kanien'kehá:ka watched as the man rummaged his baggage looking for something until his eyes caught the tomahawk the man had placed beside him, he went to pick the weapon up to take a closer look, he paused when he spotted the pendant attached to the old and used weapon. It was damaged, but he could still see the Assassin's crest.
'Bingo!' the man cried out victoriously as he pulled a jacket and trousers out of the bag. 'These should fit.'
'Uh...' Ratonhnhaké:ton sounded as he stared with uncertainty at the article of clothing.
'You need to change your clothes. Any bounty hunter can see you miles away with your current ones,' the stranger explained as he handed him the clothes.
'Thank you,' Ratonhnhaké:ton thanked as he handed back the weapon. 'Are you an Assassin?'
The older man paused at his question before he answered, 'You can say that.'
'Are you here to meet Achilles?' the boy asked excitedly. He was excited, because this was someone of his clan and an Assassin.
'No, I don't know who this Achilles is,' the man answered as he put his weapon aside and began fixing the bed before he went back to pull something out of his luggages. 'I come back to see your mother and father. How is Ziio? I saw Haytham left after the massacre. I would like to see them if you can bring me to them.'
Ratonhnhaké:ton's expression darkened at the mention of his mother and father, he tilted his head downward, so that his bangs could hide part of his face as he said sadly, 'Mother had been dead since I was four.'
A deafening silence covered both of them, they were as still and silent as the angelic statues in a graveyard. The stranger approached him and bended down slightly, so that they were face-to-face. The man's face showed no surprise or sadness as he calmly asked, 'What happened?'
Ratonhnhaké:ton felt his breath hitched as bright red flame flashed before his eyes, pain-filling screams filled his ears, his nose picked-up the smell of burned skin and wood, and the word Ista stucked in his dry throat.
'Ratonhnhaké:ton!' At the call of his name, the Kanien'kehá:ka boy was brought back to reality. The older male had his hand on his shoulder, or more specifically the junction between the neck and shoulder. It was strange, he did not felt the fear of someone's hand being close to his neck, he usually reacted very violently towards such action since he had almost being chocked to death at the age of four by Charles Lee. He found the action comforting.
The man sighed tiredly and guided him to the bed. 'You should eat and rest for now. I am sure that it is a tiring day to you.'
Ratonhnhaké:ton stopped when he was inches away from the bed, he looked over his shoulder to stare at the kind stranger and asked, 'What about you?'
'Obviously the floor,' the man answered and gestured to blanket and pillows. He lightly pushed him to sit on the bed and placed the tray of cool foods on his lap. 'And before you ask, I am not hungry. Eat your food, then change your clothes and go to sleep.'
Ratonhnhaké:ton blinked owlishly as the man proceeded to pat his head, just like his mother did sometimes. His stomach began growling, reminding him that he hadn't ate much since he had arrived in the city, the Native boy picked up the spoon and bread and began his silent meal, devouring everything in record time before he changed into the white jacket and pants. He set his weapons near his bed, within arm's reach.
Ratonhnhaké:ton studied the man who now laid on top of the pillows comfortably as he buried himself underneath the thin blanket. Before he drifted to sleep, he recalled he hadn't asked the stranger his name.
'Um, what is your name, sir?' the Native boy asked.
The man sat up and turned to face him, uncertainty was written all over his face, before he answered, 'My Kanien'kehá:ka name is Ratonhnhaké:ton.'
Dark eyes widened in surprise, finally realizing what his name meant to his mother. He remembered having asked his mother why she had picked this name, she had only told him that it was the same as a man she had once loved, who was as protective and caring as a wolf towards its pack. Actually, his mother spoke of the name Ratonhnhaké:ton with so much love and happiness that he would often wonder if this man was his real father instead of Haytham Kenway, Grand Master Templar of the Order and the one who had ordered his men to burn his village to ground and kill his mother.
Ratonhnhaké:ton still had so many questions he wanted to ask, but he felt his eyelids grow heavy and his body felt sluggish. Hands came over and tucked the blanket under his chin as a soft gentle voice told him to sleep. He did as the voice told him and entered a deep sleep in which he dreamed of having a real family.
Alex did not need to sleep or eat as much as a human needed to, which was both a blessing and a curse. Blessing was he wouldn't get tired or starved to death, but the curse of it was that it gave him too much time to think. Currently, his thoughts revolved around the topic of Ziio's death, which he had made many theories and none of them were good. So far he theorized that after his departure, Ziio and Haytham had a son, which was the sleeping boy in his room, and then something happened between them and they were seperated. He guessed the latter part, because if Ratonhnhaké:ton was raised with Haytham in his life, he would have been suspicious of him with the Assassin's Crest on his weapon, but instead he was excited and glad to see that he was an Assassin. Four years afterward, someone killed Ziio. It had to be murder, judging from the light Post Traumatic Stress Disorder reaction of the boy, and the person who had, theoratically, the biggest chance to be said murderer would be Haytham. Still, it did not make any sense in why the British waited four years to commit this act.
The Blacklight virus racked the archive of his own memory, trying to find a reason or a cause that might have drove Haytham to kill Ziio. The Englishman had what he wanted, a visit to the Kanien'kehá:ka's Sacred Cave. He delved into the one and only Kanien'kehá:ka hunter in his mind and took further study in the markings of the story of Iottsitison. A goddess who came into their world and shaped it for what life might come. She had a hard journey, fraught with great loss and peril. But she believed in her children and what they might achieve. And though she was long gone from the physical world – her eyes still watched over them. Her ears still heard their words. Her hand still guided them. And her love still gave them strength.
Alex wondered if there were more to this story, but that was all Ratonhnhaké:ton in his mind knew. The virus sighed heavily as he got up, deciding to leave this room to clear his own mind, he quietly jammed the door with his heavy chest, in case someone wanted to intrude on the young boy's sleep. He opened the window and jumped out, leaving a heavy set of footprints on the windowsill.
His small jump got him a few blocks away from the tavern, from that point, he just began wandering aimlessly around the streets, breathing in the cold weather's air. The cold helped a bit in reorganizing his thoughts as he planned what he would do after making sure that Ratonhnhaké:ton was somewhere safe. His first thought was to gather thieves, beggars and mercenaries in the area and created a network of information and a small army. He required eyes and ears everywhere to find Haytham. To him, the only way to find out what had happened for the past decade was to find the British and question him for the reason why he had murdered his loved one and sending him fake letters of their happiness.
Still his plan was easier said than done, it took him at least five years before Gabriel, Giry and Clayton were prepared enough to supply him with information and muscles.
'Oye! Oye! A criminal stalks the streets!' Alex stopped in his walk and turned to look at the source of the yelling voice, he spotted a man beside Ratonhnhaké:ton's wanted poster on the tree. 'Wanted in connection with the massacre at the Town House! Citizens are advised to call the guards if they see him! Ten pounds to whoever brings this madman to justice!'
Alex wondered who put some much effort just to capture or eliminate the young boy, the answer came to him before the Assassin spirits with him supplied it. Templars.
The virus was about to continue on with his walk when the announcer added something else, 'Also. A man was believed to be this madman's accomplice. He goes by the name Zeus.'
Alex's eyes darted to the direction where a second poster was located at another tree next to Ratonhnhaké:ton's and it was a perfect replica of his current face with the huge words of "WANTED ALIVE". The virus did not listen to the rest of the announcement and quickly made his leave from the area. He sprinted and jumped back to the tavern where Ratonhnhaké:ton was still sleeping soundly when he came through the opened window.
Alex stared at Ziio's son sadly. Indirectly speaking, it was his fault that the Kanien'kehá:ka boy was orphaned at four. If he had remained in the village, maybe Ziio and Haytham would still be together and living happily with their son, even if they were separated, he could still be there for his Native friend. Now, everything was too late to change. The Runner went to rest on top of his pillows, eyes closed as he tried to relax and pushed the guilt away until tomorrow.
Next morning around noon...
Ratonhnhaké:ton followed his mother's friend around the dark alleys and rooftops, the Redcoats were on high alert and were determined to find them. So far a few groups had almost found them, despite the fact that they were dressed in Colonial outfits. Ratonhnhaké:ton, it was still strange for him to call out his own name, seemed to have memorized the troops's pathways, knowing when to move, stop, and hide. Though they still had a problem.
They had tried to book a carriage or horses to leave the city by land, but guards had every single one of the stables guarded. Ships were not allowed to leave until the Redcoats found them or gave up.
'Tsk. They are really starting to get on my nerves,' the older Native muttered and Ratonhnhaké:ton noddded in agreement as they watched as the soldiers checked the wagons throughly before their owner was allowed to leave.
'What are we going to do?' Ratonhnhaké:ton asked as they were running out of options in how to leave the city without being discovered.
The older man stared at the groups that had surrounded the last stable in the city, his face was thoughtful and calculating. He pulled them back into the darkness of the alley they were hidden in.
'Alright. I want you to go and began removing some of your wanted posters.' Ratonhnhaké:ton muttered and handed him a small pouch of money. 'Use the money to bribe some of the town criers. They are easily found in open spaces and they like to shout.'
'Why?' asked the boy as he took the money. 'What good will it does?'
'With the amount of wanted posters in the city, even if someone is uncertain if we are the wanted criminals, they could just look at the nearest poster to confirm our identity. Removing them will easily damper people's memory and, before we know it, they won't remember our little existence,' the older man explained patiently. 'Afterwards, we will meet up at the city's north entrance.'
The young Kanien'kehá:ka nodded in understanding before a perplex expression crossed his face as he asked, 'What about you?'
'I'll be removing my own posters. And I will make a small visit to a print shop where our wanted posters comes from,' the older man answered.
Ratonhnhaké:ton nodded in agreement as they parted ways to complete their task.
I hope everyone enjoys the story so far and please leave a review.