Disclaimer - I don't own anything of the Assassin's Creed franchise, it belongs to Ubisoft.

I apologize for the late update. After suffering a huge writer block and having my entire file of my stories corrupted, I present you a new chapter of The Prototype of Grand Templar and Mentor Assassin. ENJOY!

We Are Legion

One year later...

August 27th 1773

Ratonhnhaké:ton woke up at the sweet scent of tea and delicious smoke of food as he slowly pulled himself up to sit on his four-poster bed, rubbing one of his eyes to remove the rest of his tiredness while the other eye looked around his near Spartan room. His body walked towards the small wardrobe in the corner and began putting on his Assassin robes and he carefully tied the laces of the gauntlet of his two hidden blades. The Native Assassin went back to the bed to pick up the knife that served as the main blade of the Assassins' trademark weapon, he put it back into its hidden sheath and went to equip himself with a quiver full of arrows, his trusted and sturdy bow, a flintlock pistol, a short sword and a tomahawk with its blade resembling that of the Brotherhood's symbol.

The Kanien'kehá:ka stared at the reflection of himself on the window, he was not as scrawny as Madame Giry had told him almost a year ago. He stood as strong and tall like a true warrior and a proud man in the image. He was also glad of his surrogate father's approval of him. Now he was now a great brother in the Assassin Brotherhood.

He took the small red ribbon on his desk and quickly tied his long brunette bangs into a small ponytail as he headed downstairs, going straight into the kitchen where his surrogated father stood and placing food into plates.

'Good morning, Raké:ni,' Ratonhnhaké:ton greeted his elder as he went to retrieve the ustensils from the drawers. It was a habit between the two Kanien'kehá:kas, the elder would do the cooking and cleaning; the youngster simply arranged the silverware on the table and prepared the table. Once in a while, Iskandar would try to teach him how to cook, but the results usually ended up with the food charred to black one side, with a strong taste of bitterness and smell of burning coal.

'Good morning Ratonhnhaké:ton,' Iskandar replied without turning, he flipped the salted omelette over and continued stirring its side in the hot pan with his wooden spoon. 'There, done.'

Connor went to grab the smoking dishes and carefully placed them on the table, it was a habit Giry had taught him, or drilled into his mind, before she left Homestead for a house in Boston, the old lady said it was part of a gentleman's practice to be gentle and precise with even the smallest things, though the Kanien'kehá:ka Assassin rarely showed such manner beyond the walls of the renovated manor. Still he was content with some of the lessons Giry had given him, for the lady's teachings had, as Achilles had once reluctantly told him, enhanced his image as a respected Spaniard and diminished his ignorant Native one.

Achilles limped into the kitchen when Iskandar and Connor had taken their seat, the Mentor Assassin greeted them with a nod and went for his breakfast, and they all settled into a quiet and slow pace dinning. Ratonhnhaké:ton ate his French toast a bit faster after he had finished the hams and eggs on his plate, he was looking forward to the practice of a new weapon his Elder had prepared.

Iskandar had taken notice of his bubbling excitement and had taken one final sip of his coffee before he told him, 'Go wait for me at the northern river. We'll start your training after I get our weapon.'

Ratonhnhaké:ton nodded affirmatively as he quickly went outside, waving goodbye to the old man before he headed for the trees, running along the branches and jumping from one tree to another. Anticipation fuelled his steps as he moved through the small forest and reached their usual training ground. Connor stepped around thin sand and small stones and looked at the small marks and deep cuts on nearby barks. Three years, the Native Assassin had been training for three years and yet he felt he was still a novice. Achilles saw that he was ready to face their enemies, but the elder still believed that he should train a bit more before he truly began his duties as an Assassin.

Connor went to his resting spot under the one tree that hadn't been the victim of his accidental strikes in practice. He took out a portal ink pot and small quill from one of his larger pouches and went to write in his journal.

These are troubled times. The already uneasy alliance between the Crown and its subjects frays. And behind them both, the Templars plot, pulling strings and moving pieces. History dictates they seek order through control. But how will they affect it here? Who supports them? And what conspiracies have they already spun? All these things I must determine. For only knowing my enemy can I hope to stop them. And Elder was the only one who has such knowledge, but he is hesitant to share them. Perhaps he still wishes to keep me from going down the path of an Assassin, even though my skills are proof of my capabilities. I wish he will trust me more and let me make my own choices.

'Ratonhnhaké:ton!' Iskandar called out from the woods, causing the young man to quickly shove his journal and writing tools in his pouch. Connor stood to see the elder came out of the trees, with a long rope wrapped over his shoulder, and held the new weapon in his hands, a knife-like blade attached to a rope.

'What is it?' Ratonhnhaké:ton asked as he took the weapon from the offered hands and began swinging it, keeping the whirling blade away from him and holding the tied up part of the rope.

'It's called a Sheng biao in Chinese. A rope-dart in English,' the older Assassin explained as he took a small step back to give him space. 'The plan of this weapon is given to the Brotherhood by the Chinese Assassin, Shao Jun, back in –'

Connor froze stiffly went the weapon flew out of his hands and came close to imbed itself in the older Assassin's head if Iskandar wasn't always on constant vigilance. The young Assassin watched in slight awe as his surrogate father caught the weapon's blade with his thumb and index finger. The young Kanien'kehá:ka Assassin stared at the ground as he muttered his apologies, embarrassed and a bit intimidated by Raké:ni's disapproving frown.

Kanien'kehá:ka elder heaved a short sigh before he said, 'It's alright, child. I should have demonstrated how the weapon works before I give it to you.' He put aside the rope-dart to favour the simple rope from his shoulder and quickly tied it into a lasso. 'We'll begin your practice with this. If you can throw this loop on your target, then you should be able to do the same with the rope-dart.'

Ratonhnhaké:ton nodded and practiced on fat rocks and stood out branches with the lasso.

Five hours later...

Alex kept a careful watch on Ratonhnhaké:ton's throws at a safer distance, not wanting to be the sudden target of his trainings again. Eight out of ten tries with the lasso, the boy got his chosen target and it was a far better improvement than his early tries. It was time to let him used the rope-dart.

The virus clapped his hands in loud and clear strikes, breaking the young Assassin's focus in his training, as he shouted, 'Enough Ratonhnhaké:ton! We're going to rest for an hour. Afterwards, we'll use the rope-dart for the rest of the day.'

'Yes, Raké:ni,' the Native Assassin replied as he shook his sore arms.

Alex went to pick up the lasso and rope-dart, letting the boy's arms rest a bit, as they both headed back to the manor for a filling lunch and quenching drinks, but when they reached the manor, they heard a distressed voice calling for help.

With his enhanced sense of hearing and of smell, Alex found the person behind some tall bushes and her left arm was bleeding. Connor immediately went to the injured woman's side, while the virus turned to the forest, listening closely and hoping to catch the assailant or assailants in the area. He was not disappointed at the loud yelling and gunshots in the distance. Alex quickly turned to the young Assassin and said, 'We better get her back to manor before we meet our unexpected guests.'

'Yes, Raké:ni,' Ratonhnhaké:ton replied as he went to pick the young woman in bridal style, focusing on the bullet wound on the woman's arm. 'Will you be able to make it to the house?'

The woman studied her bloodied injury closer before she answered, 'Yes, I think the ball took only flesh.'

Alex ran ahead, dropping the ropes on the front porch, next to Achilles who had spotted them coming from the kitchen's window, and picked up the bandages and alcohol he kept in a small cupboard he had named as the emergency door of a first aid kit. After he left the necessary medical items on the table, he quickly went back outside to see the young Assassin leaving.

'Connor!' the old Colonial Assassin called out. 'What are you doing?!'

Ratonhnhaké:ton turned to face his Mentor of the Brotherhood answered calmly, 'Those poachers need to be stopped.'

'Saw the scabs from my hunting blind,' the woman said. 'Get to that and you shouldn't have any trouble finding them.'

'Let's get to it then,' Alex muttered lowly as he threw the rope-dart to his apprentice, grinning slightly at the thought that he didn't need to chase some animals down for the young Iroquoian's practice. He hated hunting things that he was not allowed to consume. 'This isn't like a lasso. So remember: aim, throw, hit and tug.'

They both set out from tree to tree until they reached the huntress' hunting blind where they observed the intruders from above. He turned to the young Assassin and whispered the different methods of use of the long-ranged weapon, 'The rope-dart can be used in three different ways depending on what kind of situation you are in. One, if you are above your target, it can be used like a loose to hang your enemy and you can used the body's weight as a counterbalance to drop to the ground in silence. Two, on the ground, if you can't reach a target from a higher location, the rope-dart will pull your impaled enemy to their death. Three, in times when you're cornered or surrounded, you can pulled a nearby target for a close-ranged attack or temporarily stun him.'

The silent Assassin gave him a quick nod and began hunting the three intruders down one by one and using the different tactics Alex had given him. The Blacklight virus smiled lightly at the successful kills until he heard voices coming from behind him, he noiselessly crept over to the other side of the blind and stared at the two men moving beneath his location.

'William Johnson's openin' up some of that Mohawk land he purchased for free huntin' soon,' one of thugs said to his friend as if the ground they were walking on belonged to them as the Native's land coming sale. 'Might be we make a good haul up there. I hear lumberin'll be allowed to boot.'

'What does he want with the territory if not the game and timber?' his companion questioned.

'Don't know,' the thug answered nonchalantly with a shrug. 'Don't much care, neither. Beat skulking around these woods. Something don't feel right.'

'How right you are,' Alex whispered behind the two men who barely had time to turn around to find claws prodding out of their chest and gasped in fear as they watched the monster crushed their heart in a second. A quick death then either of them deserved, but the pain they faced in his mental prison was a far better punishment as the million of souls' cries would soon drown theirs out. The Blacklight quickly transformed his arms back to his normal tanned ones, with the sleeves covered in blood, and began consuming the copses.

The mere mention of the land Ratonhnhaké:ton and his people lived on being sold by a Templar who sought the Sacred Cave by stomping on everything the Natives had took years to rebuild caused his blood to boil as his lips pulled into an animalistic snarl as he muttered furiously, 'Kenway.'

'Raké:ni!' Ratonhnhaké:ton cried out in worry as he approached Alex and with his eyes running all over him in panic before he looked at the large bloody patch on the ground and the blood on his shirt. 'Are you alright? What happened?'

'It's nothing Ratonhnhaké:ton,' the virus replied with a small reassuring smile, but he let the boy checked his arms, so that he could see it himself that he was unharmed. 'See. No wounds. The blood belongs to two of the men who have injured the lady at the front of our home. They will not bother us any longer.'

'Are they gone? For good?' Connor asked.

'Yes...' Alex replied, but out of the corner of his eyes he could see hesitation in the young Assassin's eyes. 'You have let one of the men go, haven't you?'

Connor stared at him in shock before he nodded his head and wore a look of a guilty child prepared to be admonished by his parents. The Blacklight virus heaved a sigh before he said, 'There is this question that is as old as war itself. If someone is trying to kill you, will you not rise against him and kill him first?' Alex turned to face the Assassin who was hanging on his morbid words. 'One day, Ratonhnhaké:ton... You might not have the choice to spare your enemy and you will be forced to end the man's life as the Brotherhood's cause demands it.'

Alex gently patted the young man's shoulder before he began heading south.

'Where are you going?'

The virus paused for a second as he turned and answered, 'I need to know what Johnson is planning. You stay and keep on training until I discover what the Templar's plan is.'

Ratonhnhaké:ton looked like he wanted to protest, but the boy swallowed his words and quietly replied, 'I understand.'

Alex wore a bitter smile as he rubbed the hair of the slightly taller Assassin and whispered reassuringly, 'I'll be back soon. I promise.'

A few days later...

Alex carefully moved around the citizens of Boston with the grace of a snake slithered passed obstacles to reach its prey. In this case, his prey was an orphanage in the countryside of Boston. The virus ignored the children's curious glance in his way as he silently entered the large brick building. The entrance had red wooden frame with the fresh scent of pine, beautiful window glasses that let sunlight shined on every corner and smooth wood planks on the floor. A welcoming place, but...

'Ah, there he is!' a playful voice called out. Well, almost very welcome.

Alex rolled his eyes at the sassy thief who wore a look that promised something catastrophic was going to happen to someone. Of course, it might be boredom that was affecting Gabriel's mind, which caused the thief's desire for mischief rose to a higher level than usual. Still, he was in no mood to deal with the problem.

'Whatever is in your mind, Gabriel, you best forget it before I decide to dump you into a well,' said the virus exasperated.

'Aw, don't have something fun to do?' Gabriel asked mockingly with a Cheshire smile. 'If you don't, I have!'

Alex paused in his stride and gave his friend an annoyed gaze as he mouthed, 'Not now.'

The thief had a huge pout on his face as he went to sit at one of the corners in the main entrance, sulking like a puppy. How did he manage to rule over an entire network of information with his mischievous puppy persona?

Ignoring his unhappy friend for a moment, Alex cried, 'Giry!'

'Coming,' the madame responded gently from the second floor and, in second, she was on top of the staircase, looking down at both of them and sensing the obvious negativity coming from their friend. 'Do I want to know what's going on?'

'No you don't, Giry,' Alex replied as the elder lady disappeared from his sight for a minute before she reappeared with a box, about the size of a thick dictionary, in hand and descended the stairs. When she was standing in front of him, he noticed the thick spectacles on her nose as she opened the box. 'When did you need glasses to see?'

'What?' Giry mumbled under her breath as she kept rummaging through the stacks of papers. 'If you mean the spectacles, I need them for reading these days. It is increasing difficult for me to read the words of any report. Ah. Here it is…'

The lady pulled out a small tied stack of letters from the box, handling it to him, as she said, 'These are the last three months' report on the Kenway fellow.'

Zeus thanked the madame as he began reading the reports of different spies, ignoring the dried black specks of blood on the papers.

1st June

Haytham Kenway has a meeting with Charles Lee, John Pitcairn and William Johnson. Our spies are able to confirm that the meeting concerns both a Mohawk man called Alex, Mohawk Valley, and the unease between the Crown and the Colonists.

Charles Lee and John Pitcairn are to use their influence of, respectively, the rebels and the British army to push the colonies into a state of revolution and keep searching Alex. (Note: Need to gather information on this man.)

William Johnson seems to be ordered to focus in buying the land of Mohawk Valley, reasons are unknown, but mentions of precursor site are shared between the men. (Note: Precursor site – A code? A treasure? Not enough clues to solve this puzzle. Require further aid in research of its meaning.)

13th June

Haytham Kenway remains within his office, one of our members has been sent to question the only maid in the estate, under pretence of being a maid herself and is in need of some cleaning tools.

Spy returns at night, she reports that, according to the maid, Sofia Carter. (Note: Been in Kenway's service for almost ten years. Reliable.) Kenway has locked himself in the office, either signing papers or studying his pendant he has always worn. (Note: Thinking habits? Or is the pendant important? Need to know.)

20th June

Leaving the mansion and heading to town. Eavesdropping on different sailors and interrogating portmasters in his search for this Alex character. Relationship seems to be that of a friend.

(Note: No longer need information on Alex. Boss already knows who he is.)

30th June

Charles Lee comes for a visit.

1st July

Our spies have been discovered and we are forced to retreat to the boarders of Virginia. Kenway knew we have him under watch from the beginning, we are outnumbered and many of our men have been captured. If we did not report by the end of the month, I fear the worse has happened to us and these words shall be my last. I apologize for our failure and warn you, Kenway is going to hunt us all, should one of us speak under torture. We must stop our operation and go into hiding, for I fear that this man has more power in his hands than we have suspected.

30th July

I am the last member, breathing and free, in Virginia. I fear that whatever effort or manpower sent here will endanger us further. I will continue tailing after Kenway. I must accomplish this final task, in memory of my fallen comrades.

31st July

Kenway has taken Adriana's Pride that is to head to Boston.

25th August

He's here...

Alex narrowed his eyes as he exhaled heavily at the news. What he had worried for so long was now at his doorstep. He turned to face the sad lady and calmly asked, 'What has happened to the man who is following Kenway?'

'Died near the port where the construction of the new ship lies,' Giry answered gravely as she sat down on the wooden of steps of the stairs. 'None of our doctors were able to save him, he still held on to the letters until the very end.'

Silence and dark thoughts surrounded them in a thick fog as Madame Giry and Gabriel stared at their friend. The thief broke the quiet and questioned with a serious frown, 'What are you going to do?'

Alex faced his friends and declared with determination, 'I'll send of my best man to deal with Kenway. I thank both of you for your help, but now, I need to finish what I have started and I will not let either of you become a collateral damage in this affair of mine.'

Maybe I should say: I don't want any of you to get hurt. Simpler and easier to comprehend my meaning, but I doubt I can say the words without coughing or choking. I still have some bits of pride left after all. Alex thought inwardly, but it was apparent enough for him that the old lady and thief understood his meaning well enough, with their hidden grins and stifled laughter.

As per usual, Gabriel was the first to open his big mouth and said stuff in a very inappropriate way. His black eyes twinkled with a mirth as he cooed, 'Aw, you do care about us more deeply than any treasure!'

'You are the exclusion,' Alex said out loud with a stoic face.

'Children,' Giry muttered as she shook her head like a happy but exasperated mother, but her expression soon turned to one with a sharper edge. 'Who are you going to send after Kenway, Zeus?'

The Prototype smirked as he answered the question in an amused tone, 'His name is Alexander Mercer. People call him a killer, a monster, a terrorist.'

'Which is he?' Gabriel questioned with a raised eyebrow.

'He is all of these things,' Alex replied as his lips pulled back to reveal a toothy grin that seemed to be part of a predator mouth than that of a human.

He was sure he looked like one of those evil and creepy villains, but the idea of being able to be himself, be Alex Mercer instead of Ratonhnhaké:ton, was one that made him very giddy from the inside. Spending two decades as someone else was tiring and he missed being someone powerful and uncaring to the rules of men.

So their plan of sending Alexander J. Mercer after Haytham Kenway was settled...

One day later...

The Blacklight virus was staring at the sea with a huge angry tick mark on his head, he just got back and he immediately went to look for Ratonhnhaké:ton to see what progress he had made with the rope-dart and his trainings, but what he found was a Homestead void of the Kanien'kehá:ka's presence. His order was ignored and wasted.

Alex took a deep breath before, with as much fury as Hell had, he yelled furiously, 'RATONHNHAÉ:TON!'

The empty spot where he was yelling was where the Aquila was supposed to be. It did not need a genius to figure out that Ratonhnhaké:ton had decided to help Faulkner in whatever problem the old quartermaster had received.