It was her life's most poignant trek across the French countryside, at least since she had first came to the chateau as a traitor to the Assassins.
"Treachery is not ignoble. Quite the opposite, it takes a strong man, or woman, to turn on those he loves for a higher cause."
She possessed the artifact that the Assassins considered the epitome of evil, but she had stolen it for a purpose even they would approve of: to keep it out of the hands of the Illuminati. As long as Adam Weishaupt was out there, using his "Connector", the Templars could make no use of it. It needed to be hidden away where its light could not shine.
At any moment she could turn into the forest, walk deep into the wood, and bury the thing, changing the course of history. That is what an Assassin would do. But she had run the arguments she had used to join the Templars through her head again and again, and they were still sound.
Alphonse and Isaac were waiting right at the gate. How much did they know? They let her in. Timothee was standing outside.
"Élise! Please tell me you've succeeded!"
"I have," she said simply.
His face broke into a look of joy she rarely saw. He briskly walked forward to retrieve the device. She opened the pouch, but Timothee quickly stopped her.
"Uh-uh-uh! Remember, Weishaupt why I gave you that satchel. Hand it to me."
Indeed, she had nearly forgotten, as one of the immune. She took the satchel off her shoulder. She handed him the treasure. He felt the shape vigorously through the leather.
"Oui, c'est ça! Merci, Élise! Merci! The Order owes you a debt beyond all who've come before!" Those were powerful words. She, several years ago just a young woman with masculine inclinations, had become -
He began walking back towards the front doors. She followed. He stopped and turned.
"Élise, ma chère. I know you've done the Templars a great service. Your name will be in our annals for generations. But...even this deed...I need to store it privately. Stay where you are."
Understandable. Timothee-Abbé had been born into the order forty-two years ago, worked his way up the ladder over a span decades. She had been a Templar for a mere five, even with all she had accomplished.
She watched as Timothee went back through the main doorway with her prize. She had little doubt she had done the right thing, but there was some relief in having it out of her hands. The weight it had put on her mind was starting to sink in.
Her next great hurtle in life, the one she saw right now, at least, was deciding what to do about her feelings for Arno. And maybe writing another letter to her family, one that would not be intercepted.
Chobat returned, his face having gone from a gleeful excitement to a calm contentment. When he got close, and he stopped and said, "Élise, I have some other news for you which I received while you were gone. You'll be happy to hear the Assassin-Templar truce has extended to all of l'France!"
Her spirits soared.
She had never been happier in her life.