Menec, Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia – 28 July 1942
It had been more than a month since Jan came to this village, the name of which was Menec as he learned not long after he woke up. It was a sleepy little village not too far from Prague, which is how the Resistance had been able to take him there in a hearse supposedly for a funeral. Jan's injuries had been more severe than he had thought, and he was forced to spend time recuperating in the village.
Some days he would help Karel, who was the only mechanic in the village. He was the one responsible for keeping the few cars and tractors the village had up and running. They were constantly running into problems, and thus the broad-shouldered grease-covered man had his hands full. Jan wasn't much of a mechanic, but he knew more about machines than everyone else in the village except for Karel so he would go with him to help. He would also help Ondřej, the local postman, make his deliveries. He would also help tend to the crops, specifically for Old Man František as his age had made it difficult for him to keep up with farming.
Everyone called him Jaroslav, though Jan guessed that everyone knew he wasn't Czech, not the least bit because his Czech was bad and heavily accented. But everyone seemed to respect the priest – whose name Jan learned was Father Denis – so they went along with "Jaroslav". Nobody asked questions, and in fact people sort of respected him. He'd received countless gifts of food and verbal thanks for fighting against the Nazi invaders.
Not only Old Man František, but Jan also helped at the small garden of the church. Father Denis was about sixty years old and needed some help as well. He would help water the plants, weed them, and harvest some of the fruits. With the gifts from the villagers, they would be their meals: fresh produce with bread usually. It was during one of these sessions in the garden that Jan spoke with Father Denis.
"So, what's your story, Father?" Jan asked in German. "Are you German?"
"I guess there's no fooling anyone with my accent," he said as he wiped the sweat off his brow. "As a matter of fact, I am indeed German."
"You were part of the German Brotherhood?"
"I was indeed."
"When was that?"
"Oh, so long ago. During the Great War, it was."
"How did you end up as a Catholic priest in some random Czech village?"
Father Denis didn't answer that question and only handed Jan a basket.
"Pick the tomatoes for me, will you?"
The conversation ended there as Jan began picking the tomatoes. After they had dinner, Jan went to the same room where he had first woken up and had now become his temporary room. Jan went to bed and tried to sleep but found that he couldn't despite closing his eyes. He heard the door creak open and instinctively he sat up and went into battle mode, but carrying a small light was Father Denis at the doorway.
"Mind if I come in?" he asked.
Jan shook his head, and Father Denis came in. He pulled up a chair and placed the lamp on the bedside table. It was then that Jan saw he was carrying a bottle and two mugs.
"Would you like some beer?" he asked, offering one of the mugs.
"Are priests allowed to drink?"
"As long as we don't get dead drunk."
With that, Jan accepted the mug. Father Denis poured some beer from the bottle into Jan's mug. They clinked their mugs and chugged down the beer.
"Can't sleep?" Father Denis asked as he wiped his mouth. He was wearing white bedclothes, different from the black robes he usually wore.
Jan shook his head.
"Me neither."
Afterwards, they were silent for some time, drinking only their beer and deep within their own thoughts. But the curiosity was gnawing at Jan. He wanted to know more about this ex-Assassin-turned-priest in front of him. His story.
"Father, can I ask you something?"
"You want to know."
Jan nodded.
"Well, I suppose I can tell you. It was a long time ago, however. Like I told you, I was in the German Brotherhood during the Great War. Even then, the Templars had a hand in everything like they do today I presume. We were trying to make sure we could achieve peace, whereas the Templars wanted war. They wanted to destroy the world, and from its ashes create a new one."
Jan listened attentively, not even nodding or making any movements. But his intense eyes showed his interest clear enough.
"I served on the front lines. Played my part as a soldier in the Imperial Army. But I had my own mission. I took out several officers, sometimes went 'missing' for several nights before 'limping' back to my comrades. It was thankless, tiring work. But in the end, I'd say the Assassins prevailed on this one. Peace was achieved, and the Templars lost their grip on power."
Father Denis stopped his story there. He took a drink from his mug, and when he finished Jan was expecting him to continue the story, but there was none.
"Wait, that's it?"
"What?"
"That can't be it. What happened that ended up with you leaving the Order?"
"Do you know how long the war between the Brotherhood and the Templars have gone on for, Jan?" Father Denis asked him as he put his mug on the bedside table.
"I don't know."
"Exactly. Nobody does. This war has been going on for most, if not all, of history. It's never-ending. We scheme and kill each other. And sometimes innocents get caught in the crossfire. So many have died. And what for?"
"For freedom," Jan answered resolutely.
"At what cost?"
Jan hesitated. But he knew the proper answer. "At any cost."
"And that's where the problem lies."
"But if the Brotherhood didn't stand in the way of the Templars, then the Templars would gain control of the world, and isn't that worse?"
"Is it really? Before the rise of Hitler, right after the Great War, the Assassins were at the peak of their power. We had managed to destroy the power of the Templars through the war, and at its end the German Brotherhood stood above the corpse of the Templars in Germany. There were only a few stragglers left, disorganised and on the run. We had won."
Jan kept his eyes fixed on Father Denis, who had gone silent.
"But turns out we were no better than the Templars. Once we were in power, we ran things from behind. The Council became the new puppeteers. They pulled the strings and basically tried to rule Germany from the shadows. Not just that, they fought amongst themselves. Members of the Council turned on one another, recruiting other Assassins to their own cliques and factions. Including me.
"I attached myself to one particular member of the Council. I thought and believed that he had the best interests of the Brotherhood and of the people of Germany in his heart, and that what he said about the other Councilors' corruption was nothing but the truth. I killed at his behest. Whoever he pointed his finger at, I killed. Templar, Assassin, neither. Because I believed in the cause. I believed in what I was doing. I soaked my blades in crimson. I felt as if there was a permanent red sheen to it due to the sheer number of people I killed.
"But I soon learnt the truth. I was nothing more than a pawn in their game. In the end, he became the most powerful member of the Council, and all the other members were his supporters. He held absolute power and controlled the politics and economy of Germany as well. I was ecstatic, of course. We had won, I thought. We did. We really did. But what happened then?
"I thought he would bring peace and prosperity. Work his hardest to make our vision of freedom for the people a reality. But I didn't see any of that. It didn't matter if the politicians we kept in power were corrupt or not so long as they were loyal to him. He became very wealthy and enjoyed a life of luxury. We stopped hunting the Templars. The Assassins became nothing more than his personal army, taking out whoever dared stand in his way."
Jan could not believe what he was hearing. This was probably only twenty years ago, and yet he had never heard of this. All his life, all he heard about was how the Templars were powerful and the Assassins were constantly on the run, forced to defend themselves rather than attack. To think that something like this happened… His father must've been a young Assassin during this time, he thought.
"Then what happened?" he asked.
"Not all the Assassins had been corrupted. They saw the error of the ways of the German Brotherhood and resolved to end it. One day, they did just that. They assassinated the leader, my mentor for so long."
"And so, the Assassins were restored to their true purpose."
"If only that were the case. With him gone, a civil war erupted in the Brotherhood. The group that had killed him wanted to restore the Brotherhood of old. Some wanted to take over his role and become the new ruler of the Brotherhood and of Germany in extension. Once again, the Brotherhood was plunged into conflict. Brother killed brother; sister killed sister. It was more accurate to say that several Brotherhoods existed during that period."
"I guess the true Assassins won in the end."
"I suppose so, if you're here. I wasn't there when they did. I had left the Order. But one thing was clear. Most of the Assassins were unaware, but a few of us were. During the time we were busy with our own issues, the Templars grew strong once again. And while we were busy killing each other, they had somehow once again become more powerful than the Assassins."
"Where were you during all this? Your corrupt mentor was murdered, but what about you? Did they try to kill you too?"
"Oh, they wouldn't. I killed my mentor after all."
"Then you were one of the Assassins who weren't corrupted!"
"Maybe, but it doesn't change the fact that I did the bidding of one who was for quite a long time."
"Then what happened to you?"
Father Denis sighed.
"I grew disillusioned with it all. The Assassins, the Templars. They were all the same. And I got to thinking. A lot of thinking. About the Creed, about what we stood for. The Creed is logically paradoxical. It makes no sense. It's full of inconsistencies. What is the creed, Jan?"
"Nothing is true, everything is permitted."
"Let's start with that. If nothing is true, then how is that statement true?"
"Nothing is true except the fact that nothing is true."
"That's a logical fallacy, don't you think? Why is it so convenient that everything else is not true except the statement that nothing is true? If nothing is true, then that statement shouldn't be true right?"
Jan was speechless. He had never thought about it that deeply.
"Generations of Assassins have encountered the so-called Three Ironies. Even Altair himself did. Do you know what these ironies are?"
Jan shook his head.
"The Assassins seek to promote peace but commit murder. The Assassins seek to open the minds of men but require obedience to rules. The Assassins seek to reveal the danger of blind faith yet practice it themselves. Altair's response to this was that one could be two things at once, opposite in every way. But use your head, Jan. Think. How does that make sense? That and what I saw shattered any faith I had in the Brotherhood."
"But there were others who weren't corrupt. You weren't alone."
"Yes, and how few we were. And like I said, the Brotherhood fell into infighting once my mentor was dead. For a while, I fought on. With my brothers and sisters. We tried to restore the Brotherhood to its past self. But eventually, I got tired. Tired of the pointlessness. Tired of the schemes. Tired of the bloodshed.
"I ran. I didn't have a specific destination in mind. I just ran. From the Brotherhood, from Germany, from my home. Eventually, I made my way to Czechoslovakia. It was here that I reconnected with my faith. I was born a Catholic. Baptised when I was a baby. When I was an Assassin, I wasn't a churchgoing man. Can't really say I was an atheist, just that I didn't care about any of it. I found refuge in a church here. You could say God called me there. He called me back to his flock. He showed me the truth, the real truth that was Him. I took a new name here. The name you know me by is not my real name. I learnt the local language, entered the seminary, and joined the priesthood. And that's how I got here.
"And I don't regret it one bit. Life is peaceful and simple here. I feel at peace with God, I serve the parish. Help the locals. Make real changes in the lives of these folk."
Father Denis smiled at him. Since the beer was out now, he took Jan's mug and stood up, with beer bottle and mugs in hand. Before leaving, he said some words to Jan.
"Take it from someone who's been where you are. Leave while you can."
Left to his own thoughts alone in the dark, Jan for a while remained seated. Eventually, he lay down and tried to go to sleep again. But with everything Father Denis just told him, he had an even harder time falling asleep. His words were floating around in Jan's head. He could barely sleep.
A few days later, Jan was feeling much better. He felt almost new. He took off the bandages and put on his clothes. The village women had washed them for him, and he made sure to thank them when he received them. Jan put the used bandages on the bedside table for Father Denis to take care of later. He put on his robe and took one last look at the room that he had stayed in for the past few weeks. It was time to leave and return to the real world, to the fight that he had to fight.
Jan went out of the room and into the hall. It was early in the morning, around 6 o'clock. It was a Sunday, so Father Denis was preparing the things used for Mass. He was going to preach today. Jan had listened to his sermons during the past few weeks. He didn't understand the Czech sermons, but it seemed to him that the local villagers held Father Denis in great esteem and listened carefully to his preaching. He went up to the altar.
"Father."
Father Denis turned around, surprised to see him in his regular clothes.
"Are you going?"
Jan nodded.
"I've recovered. It's time I get back to where I should be."
"Ah," Father Denis said as he walked towards Jan. "I suppose I can't get you to stay? The villagers like you. Maybe you could leave behind your life of blood and death and settle down here."
"I'll leave the village to you, Father. As for me, this isn't where I should be."
Father Denis sighed and nodded.
"Well, my boy. May God bless you out there. May He keep you safe as it is a dangerous path you're treading."
"Thank you, Father. For everything. Really."
Jan shook his hand and turned around. As he began to walk, Father Denis' words floated in his mind. Was what he was doing wrong? Were the Assassins wrong? Was it truly pointless? Jan had given these questions much thought in the last few days. While his mind was occupied, his heart knew the answer.
"One more thing, Father," Jan said as he turned around.
Father Denis, who had turned around to return to the preparations for Mass, now turned back to him.
"It's not pointless. If the Assassins didn't fight, then the Templars would win. And the world as we know it would come to an end. And I can't let that happen."
With those words, Jan turned back and headed for the exit of the church. Father Denis' words were the jaded words of a coward. No, he was more than that. He was a traitor. He left the Brotherhood, abandoned the oaths he had sworn. Abandoned his brothers and sisters just because he couldn't stomach the fight.
Jan turned around. Father Denis had his back turned to him, busying himself with preparing for the Mass. Jan silently walked back towards the altar, not making even a single noise. And as he got closer, he engaged his hidden blades.
No one leaves the Order.