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Chapter Text

It was no ordinary mirror.

Broken glass holding melancholy within, it had been an indispensable part of this old room for years, and right in front of it, a young man was staring at his own reflection sitting on a wooden tabouret.

He watched himself, unable to remember the last time when he looked at this mirror without having the unpleasant memories attached to it. His eyes wandered around his features, black, curly hair and bronze skin, reflections of his late mother, and the gray eyes with a slight wariness growing inside of them.

His own face started to feel unfamiliar as thoughts came and went, he turned his eyes to an object he carried with him for years - a gray, custom designed walking stick with an eagle head on the top. He was shaking his right leg as he held it, trying to avoid the anxiety that this room caused him to have. This place reminded him of many things. If only this mirror could talk, he thought.

He was still looking at the mirror when the sound of the door knock filled his ears, and he took a deep breath. As he stood up using his walking stick he could swear he was starting to go dizzy - he was somehow nervous no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise.

He opened the wooden door and a deep, familiar voice of a man filled his ears. "Damn, so many keys... Finally!", the man sounded relieved as his search for the right key was over at last. Their eyes met and there he saw him - tiny man in his fifties holding some keys with a grumpy face.

The young man tried to hide his emotions as their eyes met but he knew it would be no use, that tiny man standing right in front of the door was the only family he knew for a long time. He stared at the man for a second, his dark brown hair and beard had grown longer and grayer since the last time he saw him. "I knew I'd find you here." The man said, with a soft tone in his voice. "I just had to grab these first." He shook the keys as he forced a smile.

"What, you thought I'd lock the door and run away?" The young man asked with a cracking voice. He immediately regretted the words as they came out of his mouth.

The tiny man raised his eyebrows. "No..." He sounded shocked and troubled, and took a deep breath. The young man could see it in his face now, as he'd seen this expression countless times before, this was the infamous I knew this wouldn't be so easy face. "Look, I know what's been going on lately is difficult for you to understand and-"

"Here we go again."

"If you could just listen to me." The young man shook his head with an ironic smile on his face.

"Same words, just like the last time I saw you." There was an obvious disappointment on his face. The tiny man stood there, it was as if he wanted to say something to help the poor guy. "Nothing good will come out after them. Not after you banished me from the Brotherhood."

"You know I didn't make that decision!" The tiny man insisted. "By my life, I swear, if I had any other option to keep you away and safe from what's been going on I would've done it without a second thought."

"And what has been going on, Izar?" The tiny man, Izar, inhaled when he heard his name. He tried to remain calm as he put his hand on his head, trying to think of a way out of this situation. "You've been keeping so many secrets, even you can't come up with a way to cover them anymore. You, and the Mentor. You both knew that I'd never do anything to compromise the Brotherhood."

"We knew that all along." Izar said, he was trying his best to remain calm, which was the best option in this case.

"Yet you decided to banish me from the only place I call home."

"Whatever path The Creed guides you, it's always in your favor when you truly understand the meaning of its tenets, so know that your path as an Assassin required some time out of The Brotherhood." Izar realised he was unintentionally raising his voice.

"Yeah, because the Creed always knows what's best for everyone." The young man rolled his eyes. "Right, who am I to question?"

"Please..." He continued, and looked at the young man. He could see how hurt the boy was, even though he tried to hide it behind his anger. No matter how old he got, Izar knew he'd always stay as that little boy to him. "Can we be adults, and have this conversation when we're both able to communicate like normal people and not... do whatever this is?"

The young man took a deep breath and shook his head, agreeing with what Izar's words. "I suppose that would be better."

"And about locking the door and running away... I know you're much smarter than that."

The boy couldn't help but smirk. Not because he thought it was funny, but the idea of someone like him acting like an amateur made him laugh. Why would he say that anyway? Just to piss Izar off? "Well, learned it from the best." He said, pointing Izar with his eyebrows. Then he continued, a bitter voice. "Are you going to banish me again, for good? Is that why I'm here?"

"No."

The boy nodded. He knew he had to wait and see what The Brotherhood intended in the first place.

"I've missed you being around here. It feels very empty without you." Izar confessed, with a warm tone. "You know how much you mean to us, to me."

For the first time, the young man smiled, but he wasn't exactly sure about meaning to much to them. "I've missed you too." But he was telling the truth about missing them, the only family he knew.

Izar raised his small arms up and made a little gesture to the young man. He bent over, leaving his walking stick aside and hugged Izar, with a bitter feeling. "Welcome back home, William."

*

It was quite an interesting sight to see these two men walking next to each other - one with achondroplasia, the other one, a cripple. It was even more interesting to know that these two were the ones who carry the weight of The Assassin Brotherhood of London, a city they were both foreign to. Still, any member of The Brotherhood would do anything they commanded if they saw one of these men, which was a result of their many unique talents.

"I'm surprised that still works." Izar pointed at William's walking stick, looking a bit closer as they walked. "I'm not sure why you didn't turn it on, though."

"What do you think? Not wasting its energy when I don't need it crucially became a habit of mine since I left The Brotherhood." William teased as his walking felt more like stumbling.

"Come on, now. You know I can fix or provide anything whenever you need."

William smiled ironically. "I don't think I'm going to rely on the phrase whenever you need anymore, Izar. Trust me, I've learned it the hard way."

Izar rolled his eyes, he knew he had a role in William's distrust in The Brotherhood even though he didn't mean to. "Well, we're going to have to try much harder than this to earn your trust, don't we." He whispered, more like talking to himself.

"Bingo." He replied, as they came in front of a huge door with many ornaments engraved on its corners. The Headquarters. William remembered the last time he was in this place like yesterday. I'm not guilty. I would never betray The Brotherhood like that! His voice would tremble in agony, trying to convince everyone his innocence in a crime he didn't commit. Mentor, you have to believe me!

"William, I know you have your doubts, but I'm asking you to take it easy with what you're about to hear, alright?" Izar's voice interrupted William's thoughts as they were about to open the door. William nodded, not knowing what to expect. Izar knocked the door twice, and after a few seconds, two Assassins opened it.

William couldn't help but to stare inside, nothing had changed since he last saw this place - the huge library, the long table where the Brotherhood meetings usually took place, old paintings with historical scenes, hell, even the nice smell of the incense sticks were exactly the same. He could remember his training as a child here, reading books with Izar and playing chess with him, always wondering what he could've done better when Izar check-mated every single time. You have to see the big picture, he would say, find your opponent's blind spot. They always have one, no matter how complicated they seem to play the game. Find it, and use it against them to even the odds. Soon enough, William actually managed to beat Izar. He was right - his blind spot was thinking he was playing with a child, and that's what it took William to check-mate his opponent.

He stared at the big room for a while, something felt uncomfortably familiar with the way people were standing and looking at him.

Izar made William stop with a small gesture before they arrived at where the meetings and the ceremonies took place, the long table standing right in front of them. Two Assassins were standing next to each other, William was quite familiar with them too - one of them being a very talented sharpshooter named Felix, the other one, Amelia, a talented tracker. William tried to avoid making eye contact with both of them, he had other things to worry about.

That's when he saw him: the man behind The Assassin Brotherhood of London, standing right in the middle, beneath the chairs. William made a small gesture to say hello in a very formal and polite manner.

"Welcome back." He answered, his slight French accent would give itself away anytime he spoke with his interesting tone. Somehow, he had a gift of making everyone pay attention to him whenever he talked, even though they didn't want to. "I thought you'd be here earlier, though I assume you two had some catching up to do." He pointed Izar.

"Yeah, about the things that get you banned from this Brotherhood out of nowhere, you're right." William replied effortlessly, almost without giving it a second thought.

The Mentor let out a small laugh. "Mon Dieu, I've missed your presence around here."

"Of course you have. It must've been really hard for you to do everything on your own, after banishing the only person you'd trust with your work."

Now The Mentor was clearly laughing. He seemed to be enjoying the brawl. "You don't say, mon Garçon." William rolled his eyes as the Mentor spoke his mother tongue. He watched him closely, carefully opening the drawer, taking his glasses that looked more like glass bottoms, putting them on. "None of the imbéciles had the guts to tell me their exact thoughts as you did. Do you know how dull it is without you being in charge to get this place working?"

William could see Amelia rolling her eyes even though he was focused on the Mentor. "You cared so much about free speech in this place, why did you banish me without hearing what I had to say?"

Izar didn't want to interrupt but still, felt like he had to jump right in. "I thought we agreed on speaking about this another time, Will."

"Attendez, I'll hear whatever he has to say." The Mentor replied. "Let's see if he can judge his actions as he judges ours."

William took a deep breath and tried to speak with less personal emotions getting on the way. "You know I would never take anyone's life if I don't get the order from you personally, let alone killing the Grandmaster of Templar Order." He couldn't help but remember how he was blamed after everything that had happened, moment by moment, but he kept going anyway. "I know you know this, because you have raised me to be the person I am today. What makes me so unreliable to be banished from the only place I call home?"

"La tatakhalaa abadan ean al'ukhuat alqatila." The Mentor replied, calmly. "Does this ring a bell?"

William smirked. There was an obvious disappointment in his face. "Never compromise the Assassin Brotherhood. Seriously? That's what you think I did?" He asked, not really eager to hear the answer.

"Searching for the truth is a virtue, but when extreme, a weakness. Your own weakness had you making compromises, which blinded your faith in the Creed."

"Except, the information I'd get would actually benefit the Brotherhood if you'd only listened to me." William could feel his heart beating faster. "I'd do anything necessary for the truth, I'd die for it, Gabriel, even if it means questioning the Creed."

"That's why I need you in the first place." The Mentor, Gabriel, nodded. "You're the only person I know in this place to challenge the Creed whenever it needs to be done." Then his hand reached out for a small black box, which William didn't even pay attention to. What was that, anyway? He looked at Izar for some answers, but he made one of those faces which usually warned William to get it together in the meetings that bored him to death, so William knew it was no use.

Gabriel opened the small box, and spoke with a demanding tone. "Approach."

That's when William knew what felt so uncomfortably familiar to him in the first place, the looks on the people's faces, all these the talks about The Creed and the ring.

"Fuck." was the only word that came out of his mouth. "No..."

"William Aguillard, considering your past devotion to our cause and the tenets of the Creed that bring us together in our fight for freedom, given your intelligence, problem solving abilities and virtuous ethic morals..."

"This can't be." He had a very shocked expression on his face, mixed with anger. "You guys are actually fucking with me." He looked at Izar for an explanation.

"...You have proven yourself to be a true follower of the Creed, therefore found suitable to rank up as a Master Assassin in the Assassin Brotherhood." Gabriel took up the ring and held it between his fingers. "La shay'e waqi'un mutlaq, bel kul'un mumkin." He started to walk slowly to where William was, who seemed to be failing to process everything that was happening.

So that's what it was about. But it doesn't make any sense at all, William thought. Is that why I'm here? Why do they need me to be a Master Assassin in the first place?

Gabriel stood right in front of him, showing him the beautifully crafted Master Assassin ring. "Where other men blindly follow the truth, remember..."

William rolled his eyes. He knew Gabriel wanted him to take a deep look at this line again. "Nothing is true." He replied calmly.

"Where other men are limited by morality or law, remember..."

Now William was staring at Gabriel's honey-coloured eyes, as he realized a fatherly expression covered them. "Everything is permitted."

"To be a Master Assassin and devoting your life to our cause is a privilege so little can accomplish, and a weight not many can carry. To say that nothing is true, is to realize that the foundations of society are fragile, and that we must be the shepherds of our own civilization. To say that everything is permitted, is to understand that we are the architects of our actions, and that we must live with their consequences, whether glorious or tragic. Do you understand the meaning of these words?"

William sighed. "I try my best." He said to himself, but then Izar coughed a little to warn William as he continued. "I do. I understand all of it."

Gabriel held William's ring finger, and carefully placed the Master Assassin ring to it. Then he touched his forehead softly. "You are now a Master Assassin, and we are as all your brothers and sisters, honored and proud to walk the same path with you."

William saw Amelia getting closer with a hidden blade on her hand as he felt somehow relieved. Life without a hidden blade felt really odd if you'd spent as much time as William did in The Brotherhood.

He saw her looking at his eyes as she lifted his sleeve, but he avoided doing the same. She took her time trying to correct the hidden blade, William didn't know if it was intentional or not.

"Alright, thank you everyone for being here for the ceremony." Izar spoke, trying to rush Amelia a bit. "Now, if you'll excuse us, this conversation will continue in private." She quickly made the last adjustments as everyone started to leave the Headquarter, and before leaving, she briefly touched William's shoulder. That was just one of those other things William had to fix. He looked after her, and quickly turned his head to where Gabriel and Izar were standing, as he raised his eyebrows. After they all left the room, Izar pointed to one of the many antique-looking chairs. "You have to sit down for this."

William carefully placed himself in the chair, listening to Gabriel's next words that made no sense at all. "Son, how much do you know about The Sages?"

Chapter Text

All those fancy engravings are unnecessary, he thought, as he was gazing at his new ring. He stared closely at the geometrical lines that formed a complex Assassin insignia, ornamented with a small ruby. They used to cut the whole finger off for this, you know, Izar would say when William became an Assassin initiate for the first time, the hidden blade would require a small sacrifice back then. We get to keep our fingers now, thanks to Leonardo da Vinci's engineering skills, but we still pay a tribute to our roots.

He could hear that word in his mind, wondering where he heard it for the first time. Was it a book? Or a conversation he couldn't clearly remember? A sage is a...

"A reincarnating person with precursor memories." William listened as Izar explained. "Memories what we think are from the ones who came before, though we have little evidence to show for it."

William was baffled about everything that happened this evening - being back in here after so long, suddenly becoming a Master Assassin, and now, sages - as he listened to Izar's words, wondering where he fit in all these. "Do these people actually exist?" He asked, as Mentor Gabriel and Izar exchanged looks. "I've always thought it was all a myth, or something."

Now he could see both men struggling to explain, trying to avoid the unavoidable. Gabriel would touch his forehead and remove his glasses whenever he was troubled, as he did now, and Izar would somehow become more polite than he already was. "Well...." He continued, his voice softer. "Turns out, it's more than just a myth."

"And that is a matter of concern?"

"It is, when they start appearing out of nowhere." Mentor Gabriel replied, with a heavy voice. He pointed at some of the messy looking papers at his desk, the ones that seemed like he was fed up with. "I've been getting so many sage activity alerts from the Assassin Brotherhoods all over the world."

"Which is unexpected." Izar continued, "Seems like the people they report are the people from our history, who should have been dead hundreds of years ago."

William shook his head, he couldn't process anything that these two old men were talking about. He took a deep breath before speaking. "Let's assume that this is all true, the dead are back and history is playing its trick on us." He could see Izar and Mentor Gabriel were both curious about his question. "What do they want?"

"It seems to be too early to tell." Izar answered. "Our knowledge about them is very limited, for now the only thing we can confirm is they have many memories to show us, much more than what fits in a lifetime."

"You're the smartest man I know." William stared at Izar with a blank expression. "If you could hear yourself right now, you'd probably say this is all bullshit."

"See, I knew he would be skeptical." The Mentor spoke, in a passive aggresive manner. He would always act grumpy whenever something troubled him too much, which was opposite of the kind of person he truly was.

"Gabriel, it's a good thing he's asking the right questions." Izar replied, suddenly getting defensive. "That's the way we raised him."

"Okay, I don't like it when you two start acting like my parents." William responded. "Why is all of this a danger for us? Are the Templars behind this?"

"That's the thing. They're not." Mentor Gabriel explained, "It seems like they have no idea about how this is possible, as well." William almost started talking just when Izar interrupted. "Before you say it, we too, thought it was one of their tricks at first. Then we found this." He grabbed a piece of paper standing on Mentor Gabriel's desk, and carefully handed it to William. "Read it."

"What's this?"

"A classified information that was hacked by our team." William curiously opened the folded paper and started reading.

Mr. Berg,

I am urgently writing this message for I have witnessed what deeply surprised and shocked me. Though it usually takes lots of research to confirm, I knew Mr. Hope's daughter was a Sage right away. We have to do whatever that is in our power to protect her from any harm at all costs, I think she might lead us to some answers.

I'll give you updates if I find anything about the Good Samaritan. I still have no evidence if the Assassins are included in this, so we must be cautious.

May the Father of Understanding guide you,

S.C.

"There's a lot to unpack here." said William, as he read the whole thing over again. "The Good Samaritan? Like in the Bible?" He looked pretty confused. "What's that?"

"That, is a threat." The Mentor replied, as put his glasses back on his face. "We fear they could be much worse than the Templars."

"So they're the ones behind this whole Sage thing?" He had a glow in his eyes, which appeared whenever he was thinking the details about something. "What is this, like a secret sect? Or more like us? What is it that they want?"

Izar responded all those questions one by one patiently. "We guess so. We can't be sure. They could, possibly, possess a new Piece of Eden, which is a threat to us if it keeps bringing people back from the dead."

Realizing how much has been going on since he left felt like a punch on William's face, so he had to take a deep breath. "And this Good Samaritan is messing with both the Assassins and Templars?"

"This whole thing seems to be planned much more complex than we think it is." Mentor replied.

William took a look at the paper in his hand one more time. "Who is Mr. Hope's daughter? She seems to have some answers, according to this S.C. person."

"Our team did some research on that as well. Seems like she is the daughter of Akai Hope, who is a member of the Templar Order." Izar spoke, without any particular tone in his voice.

"So she's a Templar."

"Oh, no. Not at all." Somehow, Izar felt like looking away, which was an expression that William was familiar with. He felt that the smart man had much more to say, but something was getting in the way of his true intentions. "I'm not sure she's aware of the true nature of her father's work. She's just a college girl." He looked away. "Her name is Jennifer."

"Since we don't know what the Templars want, the information she has is vraiment important to us now."

William let out a small laugh and nodded as he remembered what the letter in his hand said about this Jennifer Hope person. It didn't take him long to figure out what they had been struggling to ask. He read that sentence again - we have to do whatever that is in our power to protect her from any harm at all costs. "What, you want me to get her here, or something?"

"If it comes to that, oui."

"So the whole point of being a Master Assassin is getting to kidnap people now?" William spoke, sarcastically. "I thought it was different here than Abstergo, Mentor."

"Oh, excusez-moi. Where do you think she would be more safe, right next to Templars, or some unknown creep that messes with both of us? You let me find out when you have an answer."

"Guys, I don't think any of that would be necessary." Izar interrupted with a soft voice when things got tense, before William was about to respond. "I don't think it's truly necessary for Jennifer Hope to be right here, with us. If you could find a way to understand how she is important in all of this, that would be certainly helpful. I know it's your profession to get information from people. There is no one I trust more."

William nodded, though he knew he didn't have much of a choice. "I'll keep you updated." He held his walking stick, trying to stand up.

"There is also one more thing you should know." Izar's voice was tearing a little. "You should pay a visit to your friend, Connor."

"I plan to." He replied, looking a bit confused. "Why?"

"He needs you to be there for him these days, Will."

"Why, is something wrong with Connor?" William sounded worried as Izar's eyebrows went down and he stopped making eye contact with him. "What happened to Connor, damn it?"

But Mentor Gabriel spoke instead. "We found out that he's a Sage, son."

Chapter Text

 William and Connor didn't need words to communicate.

He went right next to a familiar place later that night, where they'd always sit when they wanted to just pass time talking about pretty much anything. Almost every single night on a rooftop, watching the lights of the old city linger from above, growing up together. Those carefree years of being teenage boys, only worried about ditching their Assassin training.

Though it brought him memories he craved to forget, William remembered the day he met Connor - it was the first time in a while he felt like his loneliness wasn't there to haunt him, an eleven year old child in a wheelchair who had just lost his mother. It was his first time being in London, though the flight was a bit blurry because of the grief. It was Izar who escorted him to his new home from his hometown, New Orleans. William could remember how hard it was for Izar to push the wheelchair, he didn't have much knowledge about achondroplasia as an eleven year old.

"Uncle Izar." He'd say to the man. "I remember you. You are my mom's friend."

"It's been a long time, my boy." The man reached forward, attempting to shake the boy's hand but he didn't respond right away. Instead, he had a curious stare. "I will keep you safe from now on. You got so much bigger since the last time I saw you."

"Uncle Izar, how am I taller than you?" Izar gently smiled to the boy.

"I was born like this. Sometimes it can be hard for me to do certain things, but I've made my peace with it." He winked, his voice getting more friendly. "It can even be better, I can do many other fun things."

William didn't speak, but a grieving expression was all over his face in the blink of an eye. He grabbed the wheels of the wheelchair and sighed. "I can't."

Izar approached to him and held the boy's hand. "I will do everything I can to get you to stand up again, I promise, my boy."

That night Izar packed William's stuff and had a flight booked to London immediately, where he'd take him to learn the Assassin ways. William stayed up all night with him, helping him get some of his mother's personal stuff as well. It felt comfortable how Izar wasn't pushing him to talk about his mother or showing fake sympathy over her death - instead he would briefly talk about other things, like how rainy London was at this time of the year or that time when he accidentally ended up electrocuting himself during an experiment. 

They left New Orleans in the morning, Izar was so tired that couldn't help but yawn every other minute. He looked at the boy sitting right next to him, playing with some cards in a quirky way. "Aren't you tired, William? You haven't slept all night." He watched him cut the cards slowly, seemed like he was trying to learn it.

"I can't really sleep, anyway." That answer wasn't a shock for Izar, as he guessed there would be some consequences related to the trauma he had been through.

"What are you playing with those cards?" He asked, trying to communicate with him.

"I had a book. There were some tricks in it." William put the cards down. "They're really hard to learn."

"Oh, look at you, little magician." Izar smiled but his eyes could close any second now. That was when he saw the bags under the boy's eyes, he must had been avoiding sleep for a while. "Teach me if you learn it, will you?" He fell asleep right after and didn't wake up until shortly before the landing, only to find the boy still with cards in his hands.

"I did it." He seemed pretty pleased with himself. "I will teach you."

Izar didn't seem to understand what William was talking about as he yawned and started rubbing his eyes. "Teach me what?"

"The trick, remember?" William had gleamy eyes.

"See, I knew you could do it, that's a smart boy!" William could still remember the thrill he felt from learning the trick, pushing himself to see the bigger game, trying to control the odds and finally - realizing that it was all playfully easy the whole time.

The first time Izar brought him to the Assassin Headquarter, he could feel that same thrill inside him when he stared at the big library and all the antique stuff - the arduous curiosity consumed him, as he thought about the memories of his mum that still felt like a reality and what awaits for him from on.

Izar introduced him to a woman as they both helped the boy to settle his new room, an empty one with two seperate bedrooms. She was quite intimitating looking with her eyeliner on the corners of her blue eyes, red lipstick on her thin lips, and the high cheekbones that gave her a dominant expression. She never smiled to William - she seemed like she had no emotions at all. Just a very serious attitude.

"William, this is Ms. Irina Ivanova. She's one of the most respected people in our Brotherhood." William felt like something was pushing him to be well-behaved around her, what if she punished him if he did something wrong? "She will help you out around here. I want you to get along with her and tell her if you need anything, alright?"

"Okay, Uncle Izar." He turned to her, hoping to sound kind enough. "It's nice to meet you, Ms. Ivanova. I'm William."

She spoke with a deep, stiff voice, which was probably a result of smoking. "Welcome, boy." Her accent stood out right away. She held his hand and shook it briefly. William realized her  polished nails, colored in purple. "We'll help you unpack. Dinner's at eight, in the big hall downstairs. You can use the lift."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"A respectful one, aren't you." William could feel her ice blue eyes observing him, probably memorizing every little detail of his face. "I'll introduce you to my twins later. They'll keep you good company." William nodded. "Izar, a word?" Her voice sounded strict, that was not a request at all. She went outside the room without saying anything else, leaving William and Izar alone.

"Coming right up." Izar could see William getting nervous, as his hands grabbed the arms of the wheelchair. "Hey." The boy turned his grayish eyes to Izar. "I know what it feels like losing someone you love, you should take the time you need to grieve." That was the first time he opened up about the loss of his mother, so William listened. "You don't have to push yourself to stay strong all the time. Let go, and get some rest."

"I can't." William sounded desperate, as his voice cracked.

"Why not?"

"You don't know anything, Uncle Izar."

"Tell me, so I can help you." Izar insisted. William didn't say a word, he just turned his head so Izar wouldn't see his face. "William..." Izar stepped forward, reaching out to the crying boy as if he wanted to make the pain go away.

"I can't. I can't. You don't understand!" He suddenly started sobbing uncontrollably as Izar hugged him the first time, feeling him shiver as the boy's head was on his chest.

"It's okay... You'll be alright. I'm here for you, okay? You won't be alone anymore." He cried while Izar kept repeating these words until he calmed down.

William tried to speak, but his voice cracked. "I see him all the time. When I try to sleep... It's like he's waiting... to push me down from the balcony."

"I'm truly sorry, my boy." He stopped hugging him to look at him. There were tears all over his eyes, his nose looked red, too. His black curly hair looked just like his  mother's, only shorter and messier - that needed to be taken care of. "I promise you, I will do my best to make you walk again. No more wheelchairs. We will fix this. You're safe here."

"Izar, I have other things to do. I can't wait for you all day for God's sake-" Irina seemed pretty surprised when he saw William crying as she suddenly opened entered the room. "Oh."

"Just give me a minute, Irina."

"Alright." She put her hand in one of the pockets of the jacket she was wearing, grabbed a piece of napkin and handed it to William. "It'll take time, boy."

William took the napkin and nodded as Izar spoke. "I better not make her wait anymore. I'll be right back, alright? You wait for me, and maybe show me that card trick when I come back?"

"Okay."

William went back to grab his playing cards as Izar and Irina walked outside and closed the door behind them. Pushing his wheelchair as fast as he could, he approached right next to a very antique looking desk and put his cards on it. He had no idea how just looking at bunch of cards could make his heart go faster, but somehow, it made him feel safe and helped him to focus. Counting the deck couple of times one by one, he tried to remember the names of the each symbol and the fancy-looking royal people. The names were easy to him, the shuffling on the other hand, took a lot of work. He kept trying and trying, there were a few times he got close to what the book instructed, but most of the time the cards kept falling out of the deck. Eventually he decided to give it a break as he started failing more.

He pushed his wheelchair right next to the wooden door and quietly turned the handle. There was no valid reason to do what he was doing, but he couldn't help the curiosity. He started to listen and it didn't take him long to hear their voices, coming from that long hall right in front of the lift.

"...You should've known a boy like that wouldn't make a proper Assassin. Not with the wheelchair. There is no way they would ever agree to train him." As he heard Irina's deep voice, William knew who she was talking about right away.

"They agreed to keep me years ago." Izar replied. "And I'm doing just fine.They sure will do the same for him."

"Oh please," She sounded like she just heard a joke, not particularly a funny one. "You were just a small man, that's all. At least you still had your legs carrying you."

"He still has his legs too, Irina." Izar started getting defensive. "Now you're just being an ableist."

"For God's sake, stop making up words. The only thing I'm being is a realist, that's it. That boy can stay here reading books and playing his cards but there is no way he can survive a real Assassin training."

"I will make him walk again." He replied, sounding very sure of himself. "Walk, climb, run, anything he could do back then, he will again." Izar continued to speak, his voice was giving away the anger he had inside of him. "And I will not tolerate this type of discriminating behavior around him, alright? The boy has been through hell already. The last thing he needs is your drama."

"Like the last time you tried to fix that guy's arm? Who ended up with a prosthetic one after you're done?" Irina wasn't going to give up easily. "You're always so full of your ideals and dreams, Izar, but someone has to remind you the truth every now and then."

"I hadn't studied the Staff of Hermes back then. Now I know many things about it that could give this boy a future." William heard Irina sigh loudly. "And besides, he is really smart, Irina. With the proper education, he could be a mastermind."

"Of that, I have no doubt." Irina let out a small laugh. "He talks nothing like the morons I call my children. Whoever raised him did a decent job. He has a certain spark in his eyes, the spark of intelligence, I admit." Her voice became softer, like she was considering that Izar could actually be successful this time. "Though it will take more than that to survive in here."

"I know." Izar admitted. "I have to be here for him, Irina. Please understand."

"Why exactly are you doing this?"

"Because there is no one else left to take care of him now. It's not like his useless father will show up anytime soon."

"Is this the son of that woman who... you know?" William was all ears, but unluckily for him, she didn't finish her words.

"Yeah." Izar somehow knew what she was talking about, even though she didn't bother to say the rest of the sentence. "She was a wonderful woman, though, despite her bad reputation."

"I remember her. I've met her, actually, years ago. Back in New Orleans."

"She was a close friend of mine." Izar's voice became bitter. "I promised her to do anything for her only child, but I can't even get the boy to sleep."

"You're here for this boy, when his own father is not. What you're doing is one of a kind, my old friend." She had a motherly way of talking about it. "The sleep thing will solve itself eventually. He can't stay awake forever, he'll have to sleep at some point."

"Maybe you can help him out. The twins could be a good distraction for him." Suddenly, William heard a ring tone, and realized it was an incoming call. "Excuse me, I've gotta take this." He realized it was Izar's phone. "Hello?"

No one spoke for a few seconds, then Izar kept going. "Yes, yes, I am available. I've just returned from America actually." William heard a few footsteps, he assumed Izar was walking at the same time. "I'm sorry, what did you say happened?"

Silence. None of them spoke for a while, William heard nothing. He got anxious as the silence grew, but there was nothing he could do to find out what was going on. "A kid?" He sounded very shocked.

"Another kid?" Irina asked Izar, but he quickly shushed her.

"Alright, I'm coming there, okay? Just don't do anything foolish. Don't hurt this child. Wait for me to arrive. I'm leaving right now." Irina started to ask questions the moment Izar hung up.

"What kid? Who was that?"

Izar sighed. "I'll let you know whenever I learn. Meanwhile, help William to settle his things, will you? It'd be good if you stayed with him until I come back."

"What about my own job?"

"Come on, Irina. It's not like you have anything better to do. Just take the day off."

William quickly closed the door and pushed the wheelchair right next to where he was a while ago, in front of the desk. It didn't take long for him to hear a knock on his door. Irina entered inside without waiting for a reply.

"Izar told me you are a smart one." She spoke. "I told him I knew it when I met you." She slowly walked right next to William, stood beside the desk and pulled herself a chair.

"How did you know?" William asked her.

"You have that certain look in your eyes." She smirked. "The keen observer. I can tell you're calculating many things in your head."

"I don't trust everyone."

"And you're clever to do so." For the first time, she had a motherly expression on her face. "You must be wise when it comes to people. Most of the time they're not who they seem to be. A positive side of me... I'll always tell the truth. You must decide if you want the truth your life, or not." She got herself closer to William to look at his eyes directly. "Though, I'm sure you witnessed it already when I spoke to Izar."

William didn't look away, but he felt guilty for spying on them. "How did you know I was listening to you guys?"

"Oh. It wasn't hard. There's a mirror on the wall near the lift which reflects your door." William could feel his cheeks getting red. "Don't worry, Izar is not really capable of realizing that kind of details."

"I feel embarrased."

"Why? When I saw you there, that was how I knew you were smart."

William looked confused. "But it wasn't a nice thing to do."

"So you chose curiosity over morals. That tells me something." She reached over the playing cards, grabbed them and started shuffling. "Do you know how to play blackjack?"

William shook his head from side to side. "I don't know any games."

"Tricks are not the only reason these cards exist, boy." She kept shuffling. "Of course, we need more people for this but I'll be the dealer and show you the rules. Lets see how you do."

They spent the whole afternoon playing cards, talking and sharing things at the same time. William realized he felt more comfortable around Irina, even though she was tougher and more strict than his mother, he could learn much more around her. As she kept teaching him the rules and thinking strategies, she seemed quite impressed with the fact that William was such a fast learner.

"You have a gift for these things I see." She told him, smiling. "My twins wouldn't understand a word of it, idiots."

They both heard a nock on the door as Irina realized how late it had been. They must've been playing and chatting for hours. She quickly stood up and her body started aching thanks to the hours of blackjack with an eleven year old. "Ouch." She held her hips as she looked at William. "Don't you get stiff sitting on that chair all damn day?"

"I do, but Uncle Izar said he could get me back to normal."

"Oh yeah. The mighty healer Izar. Like Jesus Christ himself... Only smaller." Irina walked to the door and opened it. "Speaking of which..."

Izar was standing next to a boy, who looked pretty wide for a kid. "Sorry I'm so late... It took some time to handle the situation."

"Izar, you're like Santa Claus these days." Irina spoke as she stared at the kid with braided hair, who seemed like he was still in shock. "Grabbing every kid on your naughty list. This one just learnt how to play blackjack."

Izar didn't bother to reply, he seemed too tired to. "Everyone, meet Connor. He will be staying with us for a while."

"Hello, Connor." William said to the boy as he watched Irina's eyebrows going up. Too many kids must've showed up in one day for her standarts.

"Hello." The new boy replied.

"Irina, could you help William to get in his bed, please?" Izar asked. Without a word, Irina grabbed William by his waist and carefully carried him to his bed. She even opened the blanket for him to get in. William could feel Connor watching the whole thing.

"And William, Connor will be staying in the other empty room until we find him a new one, alright?"

"Okay, Uncle Izar."

"It's very late, boys. We have a lot to do tomorrow. Better get to sleep."

"He's talking to you." Irina turned his looks to William. "No more playing cards."

"Good night, kids. Rest well." They both left the room. Before they went out, William saw Irina asking what the deal was about Connor, as Izar made a hand gesture instead of replying.

"I'll do it if you want, I promise." William wasn't expecting to hear Connor speak to him right away. He had brown eyes and long, braided hair with beads in it, William never saw anything like that before, not even his mother would wear her braids like that. "I can carry you anywhere if you need."

"Well, you seem pretty strong." William replied. "How old are you?"

"I'm eight."

"Wow. I'm eleven. You're even taller than I am."

"So, you can't walk?" Connor asked curiously. "What happens if you have to pee?"

"No, I can't walk. And I go to the toilet, dude." They both laughed when he said the word 'dude'. William realized it was the first time in forever he talked to a kid in his age.

"Are you lost like me?" Connor asked him quietly after they were done laughing. "Is that why you're here?"

"I suppose I am." 

"Can we be friends?" Connor asked unexpectedly. "I have no friends or family."

"Lets be best friends." William smiled to him.

It was the first night that he fell asleep right away, knowing Connor was in the next room.

The footsteps he heard were what brought him back from the old memories, and William knew who it was without a second thought.

After all, it was his best friend who promised to carry him when he needed years ago.

Chapter Text

"You're a sight for sore eyes."

Two things were running through William's mind as he stepped out from the dim yellow lights of the Headquarters into the pitch darkness of the night: the first day he could properly sleep after his mother's death, and the Jennifer Hope person he was supposed to get information about.

Right next to him sat Connor, whose long brown hair was tied up into a messy ponytail, some strands braided in a traditional way. William couldn't help but smirk to the words that came out of the boy's mouth when he saw him, childishly innocent yet sarcastic in some way.

"Yeah, so are you." He replied, trying to hold his laughter. Yet Connor didn't burst out a laugh like he used to, instead he seemed quite serious. William's smirk slowly disappeared when he stared at Connor's brown eyes, the moonlight and the lights of the city far away reflecting in them. William could try his best to ease everything with jokes but the unavoidable talk they would eventually have was a pain in the neck. The silence kept growing as he stared at the young man he called brother for years. "You don't really seem happy to see me, though."

"I am." His soft voice cracked a little bit, but he went on. "That doesn't change the fact that I am angry with you."

William couldn't hide how surprised he was to hear this. "Angry?" His gray eyes widened as he stared without blinking. "Why?"

Connor turned to William at last, he had a crumpled face which William was familiar with. He'd have this face whenever he felt disappointed at something, in this case, that was William himself. "How many months has it been? I didn't hear from you, I didn't even know where you were."

"Connor..."

"I thought you'd reach out to me, eventually. You didn't."

"I had to. I'm sorry, Connor..." William's chest felt hollow. "Everyone thought I was guilty, no one ever actually listened what I had to say."

"Are you? It's not easy to believe someone who simply ran away." Connor didn't hesitate to ask, which shocked William. He stood frozen as he tried to process what he heard.

"Please don't tell me you believe I killed the Grand Master of Templars." He started getting defensive as his voice couldn't hide the anger he still had inside of him. "Not you, too."

"Of course not." Connor replied, taking a deep breath. "You're too smart to do something that stupid." He knew he had to explain himself further when he saw William's even more shocked face. "Look, all I'm saying is it was a dilemma, alright? Everyone was pretty convinced about you being guilty and then..." He could see the pain in William's eyes, glassy and shimmering.

Connor knew it was a mistake to let all his emotions out before saying him a proper welcome. He tried to soften his voice and drop the attitude as he continued to talk. "When you went away, I realized I've never been all by myself in this place. I waited in case you'd reach out, but it got more frightening when you didn't. I thought the Templars came after you."

"They did." William shook his head. "That's why I had to disappear. I wanted to reach out, but it was too much of a risk."

"Did they hurt you? Where were you all this time?"

William sighed. "It's kind of hard to hide from them if you look like I do." He raised his walking stick. "But no, they didn't hurt me. Just stalking, that's all. I went to my hometown though. Stayed in a friend's house for a while, didn't want to rent a place right away." He tried to smile. "I even met a couple of people you'd enjoy spending time with. I was with them, most of the time."

"So did the Brotherhood ask for you to come back for the Sage thing?" Though Connor seemed relax, the way his voice trembled gave away how uncomfortable he was about the unknown.

"I guess." William held his hand up and touched his new Assassin ring with his thumb. "I got married again." He winked at Connor when his eyes were carefully examining the ring.

"Are you kidding me?" His voice was full of excitement and curiosity. "You're a Master Assassin now?"

"Can't say I'm the happiest guy."

"This is a big thing." Connor was still staring at William's Assassin ring. "They need you making the decisions now. You and Izar, right next to the Mentor."

"I guess it's that bad, huh?" William smirked, and continued sarcastically. "Imagine. All three of us. Making the best decisions ever. Such a happy family."

"William, can't you see this is bigger than you think?" Connor spoke, with tension. "This could actually explain everything about me that is a mystery, like how I found myself in the woods looking for the Assassin Brotherhood, and how I didn't remember a thing about my family or my past." He looked down, William could tell his thoughts were swirling like a tornado inside his mind.

"You had a very traumatic experience for your age, Connor." William tried to comfort him. "It was a miracle how you found your way to the Brotherhood. It's normal to not remember things."

"How can anyone forget their name, William?" He insisted. "When Izar found me, I couldn't even talk when he asked my name. All I knew was I had to find this thing called The Brotherhood."

"I remember him telling us how he named you Connor after a book character that day." William smiled, reminiscing the old days. He must had been seventeen or eighteen when Izar told both of them about it. "Though he added an extra letter."

"Yeah, Trinity." He explained. "That character devotes himself to a different Brotherhood though." They both smiled, which turned into laughing.

"I must say, life gets pretty dull without you being around me, or Izar's weird sense of humor."

"Couldn't agree more." Connor stared at the city lights far away, as he nodded. "It would have been easier for me to accept myself if you were here."

"I'm sorry, Connor. You know I would have been with you if I could."

"I know you would, brother." He sounded grateful, which relieved William.

"Do Irina and the twins know you're here?"

William let out a little giggle. "Oh no. I know I have an ass beating on the way."

"Yeah, you better hide when Irina sees you." Connor joked, since both of them knew what happened when they didn't act right. Irina may be older now, but she hadn't changed a bit – though her anger was terribly passive, rather than being physical. "Still, you're a Master Assassin now. She would be proud of that."

"The rumor of me killing the Grand Master of Templars next to me becoming a Master Assassin." As William spoke, Connor couldn't help but laugh. "She'll be too damn confused."

"I knew you'd lose the pride of the family title one day." He bit into his bottom lip, trying to contain his grin.

"Come on, that was never me." William rolled his eyes. "If I were, I wouldn't have to get things together now."

"So, I'm guessing that means you know about the Jennifer girl?" Connor's voice couldn't hide his curiosity.

William's eyebrows rose up. "How the hell do you know about that?"

"I've heard the team talking about it." He crossed his arms loosely. "They were planning to task you a few days ago. I wasn't expecting you'd accept it though."

"Well, it wasn't much of a choice." William stared blankly as his eyebrows went up. "They kind of seemed like they were counting on me to do it. Gabriel seems suspiciously desperate about her, he even told me to get her here if I must. I wonder why."

"Hell if I know. I'm barely learning about myself." None of them talked for a while, both stood silent in confusion. Soon, it was Connor who broke the silence when it started to bother him. "Any ideas on how you plan to learn more about her?"

"I'll just go meet her." Connor stared at William in slight shock.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah." William smiled. "Is that so bad?"

"I don't know." Connor blinked rapidly. "It's not like you to put yourself out there without a well-made plan."

"I know." William nodded. "Since that didn't work out so well for me the last time, I think it would be wiser to change tactics for now."

"How will you just casually meet her when she's surrounded with Templars? I've heard her father is one."

"I've met someone who can be helpful with that." William winked at Connor. "It'll be easier than you think. I'll just learn what we have to know and disappear."

"Let's hope the Templars won't suspect a thing." Connor sounded cautious.

"They won't, don't worry about it." William seemed like he was done talking about his new task. "Can I ask you something if it's okay?"

"Go ahead."

"How does it feel like?" William asked, as he tried to avoid sounding too curious, even though he was. "Being a Sage?"

Connor shrugged, as if he didn't care at all. "Feels like you're a stranger in your own life." His voice was weak, he almost felt guilty talking about the whole thing. "Funny thing is, part of me always knew. The reason behind all this. Why I don't have any memory of a family, or my real name, or anything else. It's like I'm not the owner of my life, you know."

"How did you find about all this?" William asked. "I mean, at some point you found out who you really are."

"This could sound stupid." Connor sighed. "It was after you left. I was at the Headquarters and..."

"And?"

He rolled his eyes, which made William even more curious. "It makes no sense at all..."

"Connor." William gave him a supportive look. "I'm told to get some information about this other possible Sage, who's supposed to lead us to some answers. I'd rather hearing the truth from you than a complete stranger. Help me out a little."

"Fine." He looked away for a second, then turned back to William. He could be too convincing sometimes. "I had this whole bleeding effect moment without being in the Animus and... I suddenly saw my mother."

"Your mother?" William sounded confused.

"Yeah, something inside me just knew that was my mother right away. It was like... I knew it all along, my entire life. It all came back to me when I saw her."

"What was she like?"

 A bitter expression was all over Connor's face."I couldn't tell much... She was dying."

 William saw him as he shut his eyes with pain, as if he went back to that exact moment.

"Things were a bit blurry at first, but then I couldn't help this urge to run. Somehow I found myself in a huge, hot place I didn't know, I kept looking everywhere yet all I saw was red. I could hear the children and the people running, screaming in this language I realized I knew, looking for their loved ones, trying to escape. Somebody had burned the whole village down." He took a brief moment to clear his throat, seemed like he still felt the smoke in it. "It was like hell. I'd never felt so helpless in my entire life."

"That's horrendous."

"I found her in a wrecked house, covered in her own blood. She was stuck between some woods – I reached out but I couldn't push them away, felt like I wasn't strong enough."

William didn't really know what to say, he felt horrible as the memories of his own mother rushed to his mind - the unbelievable pain of her absence suddenly hit him as Connor kept speaking.

"She kept telling me stuff but I couldn't even keep them in mind. I should've... I should've listened to her..." He wrapped his arms over his head, burrowing his face between them.

"Connor..." William touched his shoulder as if he could take Connor's pain away. "It's okay. It was just a vision..."

"It was so vivid, William. I saw her just like I see you in front of me right now." He tried to take a few breaths to calm himself down. "I wish I could hear her last words. I woke up inside the Animus with Izar watching over me, everyone was there."

"They must had been really worried about you." William patted his shoulder. "I know I'd be."

"Izar was." He nodded. "Then he explained to me the true owner of my life."

"Connor Kenway." William replied to him with a soft voice. "He doesn't own you, Connor. You are him, and he is you."

"I'm not sure about that." He shook his head. "I can't even tell what belongs to me, and what belongs to him anymore."

"I can." William looked him in the eyes. He continued with a soft voice, trying to calm him down. "You are the only person I know as family, do you know why?"

Connor nodded without speaking a word.

"The day we first met..." He cleared his throat. "When Izar brought you to be my roommate that night, my mother had just passed, and I hadn't slept a minute after her passing, you'd remember."

"I do." Connor replied, his voice gave away the pain he was in. "You always had trouble sleeping when you were stressed out."

"Izar seemed calm but I knew he was kind of freaking out. He had no idea how to deal with a child's insomnia." William's chest felt heavy as he thought about those days. "When you offered me help to carry me to my bed, it was the first time in a while I actually felt safe around someone. Not Izar, not Irina or anyone else, but you."

"I forgot I ever said that..." Connor had a slight smile shaping around his lips.

"You did. I knew I found my true brother at that moment. The wise, supporting brother I needed to heal. I promised myself I'd try my best to be the same to you."

"This means a lot to me." Connor tried his best to hold his tears, but it wasn't working so well. "I know you don't have the best memories when it comes to brothers."

William silently nodded, Connor knew he would keep his silence about this. He felt quite embarrased to be tearing up, but he knew William wouldn't judge.

"You're my family."

"So are you."

As Connor hugged him, William let the feeling of being home surround his tired body and heal his wounds.

Chapter Text

 It wouldn't cross Jennifer Hope's mind that she would be having coffee with some circus magician she just met that evening, but life had a way of surprising her in the most peculiar ways.

 It had all started just like every other day - the heavy weight of her unfinished thesis kicked in before she opened her eyes in the darkness, and left an unpleasant pain in her chest. How much time left today? Thirty five days.

 She reached to the cupboard right next to her bed as her hands quickly grabbed her phone to check the time - 04:44. Almost three hours before her morning alarm rang, now that was a first.

 She kept staring at the clock blankly with her squinted eyes, trying to avoid the stressful thoughts yet failing miserably - they were there, as they had always been. An imaginary vision of a bald man appeared right away in the back of her mind - the bored, judging looks of Professor Hills, watching her from afar, probably thinking nothing she does is ever good enough. Maybe even his cracking voice that shaped those words of disappointment, which Jennifer would rather die than hear - we can't tolarate this kind of failure in the department obviously, so unfortunately we'll reconsider the scholarship- 

 The thought of failing to graduate her master's degree felt like a punch in the stomach as she got out of her bed without a second thought. She was not going to let that happen. Her hands quickly reached the night lamp next to her bed and switched it on, the dim yellow light illuminated the room.

 She quietly walked to the bathroom, hoping not to wake her dad, who slept in the room right next to hers. The cold water made her shiver as she rinsed her face - somehow she found herself hoping to wash all her stress away with it.

 Her eyes caught her reflection in the mirror as she turned off the cold water with her wet and cold hands. Dry lips, bags under her eyes that showed how tired she was, hair growing longer and messier each day because she had no time to get a haircut. She quickly realized her brown eyes had a weary expression inside them, depressed, even. What are you doing with yourself, she thought, small drops of water still running down from her face, resembling of teardrops. Life used to be so much easier.

 And it was the truth - things had been easier for her back then - when she was in her undergraduate years. All she had to do was to study everything that interested her each day, appear willing and able to grow academically and there it was, high grades, pleased parents, even more polite academicians that acted like decent human beings around her. It had been such a comfortable aquarium for her for the past three years, one that protected her from the heavy weight of the real life outside. Well. That aquarium had broken shards and water was spilling all over the place now.

 It would have been easier to wait, much easier. She still had no idea why she rushed and stressed everything to get her master's degree right after graduating early. There would have been too many things to do - perhaps a long vacation in the Mediterranean with her mother, who had been living there for years after divorcing from her dad - instead of being in the mess she called a master's degree right now.

 She quickly shook her head and blinked a couple of times as she tried to get her mind together, and quietly left the bathroom. There's no time for this. You can't afford to waste your time drifting in your thoughts. She rushed back to her room and turned on the computer on her messy table, pushing aside all the colorful pens and books with underlined sentences.

 Her computer started running right away from the website she last checked, she must had forgotten to turn it off after falling asleep on the couch. It all came back to her when she saw the title again - SUB SUPERFICIE TERRAE (Occulta Ordines et Sectas). She couldn't help but roll her eyes when she read the rest of the words right next to the book she was searching for - OUT OF STOCK.

 She wasn't even disappointed anymore, of course it would be out of stock. For months, she had continuously searched every library, every website that sold antique books, yet there hadn't been a sign of the Petrus de Herkulaneum classic. It hadn't left her mind since she heard about it in a seminar before the thesis, and the eerie feeling she felt in her spine when she started learning about the history of hidden sects and orders had made her even more curious about it. It wasn't a surprise that she chose to dig deep about them in her thesis eventually, they creeped her out, so she wanted to know more.

 She kept scrolling for more pages, all with the same out of stock result next to them. She noticed the publishing year again, 1975. It must had been the last time the only translation was published, since Jennifer hadn't seen any other versions of it. She couldn't help but type Masyaf Books, the publisher's name, knowing nothing new will show up. Some books about World War I appeared as usual, and some Egyptology books she had seen before were still there, and the famous translation of Sub Superficie Terrae, of course. She sighed again, it seemed like there was no way to get in touch with the publisher as well. Nothing new after 1975.

"Started earlier than ever, huh?" Jennifer wasn't expecting to hear her father's voice, so she couldn't help but jump in her chair reflexively.

"Gosh, dad." She whined. "You scared me."

"Sorry, my bad." He replied, after yawning playfully. "Isn't it creepy to search about those weird cult guys at five in the morning?"

"It kind of is." Jennifer shut down her computer and leaned back to her chair, she could feel her tense muscles slowly relaxing. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to wake you up."

 "You didn't, I was just going to the bathroom." There was a tired smile on her father's face as he walked into the room when he approached next to his daughter's messy desk full of colorful pens, books and note papers. Jennifer felt like he could understand the pressure she felt in her chest about school lately, how she felt like the thesis was all for nothing. She didn't hesitate to hug him when he opened his arms genuinely.

 "You're doing the best you can, Juniper." His voice was soft and filled with care as usual when he called her the same old nickname. It reminded her of the childhood years, swinging at the park full of green grass and trees, feeling the soft breeze as she was swinging and coming back home to the beautiful smell of baked cakes. Wash your hands, Juniper! Grandma baked your favorite ones!

"The thesis won't finish." was all she could say when she memories of her childhood rushed in her mind. "I don't know what else I can do about the book, I have no energy left in me to deal with the professors, I..."

 "You don't have to rush all this." Her father held her gently as he spoke. "You don't have to push yourself this hard, give yourself some time."

 "What about the scholarship?" She suddenly turned to her dad anxiously. "I could lose it if I fail, you know?"

 "You know we can afford your school debt, dear."

 Jennifer frowned. "Dad, we talked about this. I'm not okay with it."

 "I know, I know." He smiled. "I just don't want you to worry about everything. These are the best years of your life and all I want is for you to be happy." Jennifer nodded, her eyes dropped unintentionally to hide her glassy eyes. "I'm always proud of you, baby."

"Thank you, dad. I know you always have my back."

 "Anything for you, my dearest." He winked at her, smiling. "Now, back to bed. No more of those creepy cult guys."

Jennifer rolled her eyes, yet couldn't help but smile back. "It's not the cult guys, dad. It's the book that I'm after."

 "You'll handle them both after you get some more sleep, Juniper." He left her room as Jennifer went back to her bed, tucking herself in the sheets. Her eyes drifted shut slowly as she felt the complete darkness took over her.

-

C̈́̽͌̋̄oͬ̈̿ͮͥͪ̎ḿ̈̄͆ͫe͑͒̚ ͦ̊ͥcl̿ͥ̒͌̐̓̍os̏ĕ̄̓̿r̿,͋ ̅ciͣph͐̽́eͧͣ̊͗ͬŕͨͦ̾͆.̑ ́͛̅́͌̈́

P͛ͣͤ̍erh̐ͩaͭ͑ͭpsͣ ̆́͑̋we̓ ̃͋ͭ̉ͣhͣ͆͗͐̉̑aͭ̾͋ve ͩͫ̅ͬm̓etͦͬ ͗̿b͛̾efore,ͮ͐̔̂̓̓ͦ ̍̏̅p͆͗̾ẻrhà̈́̅ͪ̆̄ͫpͫ̇s͌ͯ̓ͥͤ ̇̇̃not.̃ ̽ͭ̈́ͨ̃̈́̊  ͋͛͛̑̂ ͩͦ̓ͥ

Y̍̈́̈͌̄̌o͊̃̃ͤuͫ͂ ̄̍̆ͪ̈́̚sēaͩ̽̽͛̓rch̊̎̔͒ ̌f̎̊ͨ̒̏̐or ͭͪan ̄̈ͧ͗ă̅ͨ̉̇̒rtĭͥ̎ͩͣ͋̾f̊͛ac̒͛̑͑̈ͫ͂t. ͐̾

Letͪ̑̒̓̑͆ͪ ͦͧͨͫ́̃meͪ͌ ̏̅̊͑s͒͂̊̉h̅̾ͧ̈́oͩ̓ͦ̇̓wͪ͗ y̆͒̊̿̆o̎̓ͫ̃̀͌̔ŭ͌͛̀ ̂͑͌ͫ͋̔tͮ̀ͯ̿ȟͫ̿̎ͮe͋̓̍͛ ͤ̚t͂r͗uth. ̽̏ -

Chapter Text

 The Next Day

 Natalie Ivanova-Parker didn't seem to be impressed about William becoming a Master Assassin at all, the only reaction she had for the news was pulling a pack of clove flavored cigarettes and offering one to him.

"You huh."

 William took the offer and placed the cigarette between his lips while watching her, the woman whom he embraced as an older sister - whom he had always envied for being such a badass. There she was, again, watching his every move over her vintage sunglasses with the usual facetiousness in her brown eyes.

 "So much for a welcome." There was a grin on his face as he bent his head to get himself closer to her.

 Natalie took her frog shaped lighter that she had for years and lighted William's cigarette. "Well." She spoke with her deep, stiff voice just like her mother, only with slight sarcasm and less accent. "My mother is the one for that sort of grotesque ceremony, meanwhile..." She stopped for a second to light her own cigarette as William thought about her mother, Irina, with a bitter smile on his face. "Your girl here is the only person in the damn Brotherhood that gives less than a shit about the weird cult titles they love to throw around."

 William followed her as she took her keys and unlocked the door of her apartment where she had lived for a while, intentionally keeping her distance from the Brotherhood, and mostly, her mother Irina. William never judged her for it, not one bit. "That makes two of us." He replied and suddenly found himself coughing when the pungent taste of clove burned his throat. "I can't believe this is what you smoke."

 He could hear her chuckling as they both got inside her place. "Only the best for my brother from another mother. You're most welcome, Master Assassin."

 "Unpleasant." William walked in as he cleared his throat. "How do you even find this weird stuff?"

 "Hey, what's an Assassin if not resourceful?" She took off her long jacket and glasses, then threw them away like they were some kind of trash, somehow they landed on one of the armchairs she seemed to use more like a wardrobe. William watched her every move, even after so many years, he couldn't tell why it blew his mind every single time to see how she was completely the opposite of him in every way. Messy, shameless, anti-authoritarian. The traits that most people in the Assassin Brotherhood despised were the very reasons he trusted her.

 She stood up on a chair and climbed up on the table as William walked over the sofa and sat down, placing his walking stick right next to him. He felt the cold fresh air filling his lungs when Natalie opened the window. "You hungry?"

 "Not at all, thanks." William replied. "Though an ashtray would be nice."

 "You know what," She climbed down from the window to the chair, stood on top of it, and she jumped on the ground like a ballerina as the crashing sound of her high heel boots echoed. "Fuck it. We're drinking bourbon for your return."

 William's eyebrows rose up. "Natalie, I'm supposed to be in a Brotherhood meeting in a couple of hours."

 "Man, you're no fun for a circus magician." She whined with a cracking voice and took the ashtray over the kitchen counter, placed it in front of William after ashing her own cigarette on the ground. She grinned ironically when she saw the disgust gaze in William's eyes. "Coffee, then."

 "Sure." He sighed.

 "So," She quickly walked to the kitchen counter to take some coffee from the cupboard, filling the pot with it. "How go things in the hellhole?"

 "Ah, the usual. Though, there's something different which I can't quite tell." He smoked again, hating the clove flavor each and every breath. "This is the first time I'm witnessing ambiguity, after what happened with the Templars. No one seems to be quite sure how to handle the sage situation. Besides, people can't tell if I'm guilty or not."

 "I was there, you know," She put some water in the kettle as she spoke. "...when the news broke out about the Grand Master's murder and people said the Templars were looking for you everywhere. I swear I could smell the bullshit from a mile away."

 "I know how it looks."

 "Man, I actually thought no one would buy it." Natalie turned around, with complex emotions on her face, confusion and disdain being the obvious ones. "I can't believe I expected them to act smarter." She couldn't help but laugh ironically.

 William remained silent for a while, every repulsing feeling he swept under the rug would come back when he took the time to think about them. His eyes wandered around Natalie's house for distraction, one couldn't help but observe the computers and the nerdy stuff she had all over the place. It was chaotic, yet somehow in a way that didn't make William lose his mind. He took his time gazing at the stuff he would never put in his own house - like the skeleton statue that posed like it was peeing, or the random photo of a green duck with a scheming face framed on the wall. Not to mention the quote right under it with gothic fonts that felt like the duck was warning you - 𝖙𝖗𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖓𝖔 𝖇𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍.

 "I never had the chance to ask you under the abnormal conditions of that time though, if you'll excuse my unending curiosity." She put some hot water to pot as she spoke. "No judgement, but what the fuck were you doing with the Grand Master of the fucking Templars in the first place?"

 William rolled his eyes but he was biting his lips secretly to hold his laughter. "Seriously? Out of everything that's going on, this is what you want to know about?"

 "Hell yeah! Especially if the guy is fucking dead right after you left." She had a sick looking grin from ear to ear, it was all a joke to her. "The feeling's called suspicion, one that you may share possibly."

 William knew about suspicion a little too well. He waited a while before he replied to her. "You're the first person to ask."

 "Whew." Natalie unplugged the kettle and poured the coffee into two mugs that were shaped like skulls. "That's dark." She held the mugs and scampered right next to William, giving one to him.

 "Thanks."

 "Not an answer to my question." She put her mug to the table and laid herself down to the other sofa in front of him, her curly blonde hair was all over the place. "Why were you with the old fuck?"

 "He never told me why." William had a strange tone in his voice. "He asked for me. Wrote a letter even, asked me to meet him... said it was a matter of life and death."

 Natalie's eyes grew wider and she stood unblinking, probably trying to process what William had just told. "Walter Lloyd wrote a letter to you?" She exploded in a nervous laugh.

 William shook his head silently.

 "Does anybody know about this in the Brotherhood?"

 "Only you." His eyes didn't lift from the steam dancing over the hot coffee for a few seconds. "Hell, not even Connor."

 "We need to tell people."

 "I think he wanted to warn me about something, before..."

 "Before what?"

 His gray eyes focused on somewhere away, as if he was trying to remember a small detail or calculate something. Then he sighed and let it out. "Before he could say anything, because he was poisoned to death right in front of me, Natalie."

 Both of them went silent for a little while, trying to process the truth. It was William who broke the silence. "That's why I wanted to see you, I need your help to learn more about these sages. I think this whole case about the sages and the Good Samaritan is connected with each other."

 "And it has something to do with the Grand Master's death?"

 "Could be." William thought about Izar's words again when he was teaching him to play chess years ago. "We have to see the bigger picture here. I have witnessed that sages can be quite more... powerful than we expected."

 "What do you mean?" Natalie stood up, put her cigarette in the ashtray and quickly reached for her pocket for another one. She seemed to have a more serious attitude than a minute ago, it was as if that jokester girl had disappeared suddenly and left her place to the Assassin she actually was.

 "You know how Connor found out that he was a sage, right?"

 "I was there when it happened." She explained, after lighting her cigarette. "It was my idea to put him in the Animus, actually. That's when we saw the truth. I think it was a couple of days after you left."

 "And since then, there was nothing unusual about him? No bleeding effect moments about his past life or moments where he showed unexpected behavior?"

 "Well, if being melancholic doesn't count, then no."

 "My question is, why?" He sounded like he had an idea that bugged him, a puzzle that he was eager to solve. "Why, out of every day, that day, and never again?"

 Natalie didn't say anything at first, she was trying to see where the conversation would go. "You think it has a reason?"

 "I think I've just found out about the reason. Her." He reached for his pocket, grabbing a note paper. Natalie took it without hesitation, only to read a text she had seen before.

Mr. Berg,

I am urgently writing this message for I have witnessed what deeply surprised and shocked me.

Though it usually takes lots of research to confirm, I knew Mr. Hope's daughter was a Sage right away. We have to do whatever that is in our power to protect her from any harm at all costs, I think she might lead us to some answers.

I'll give you updates if I find anything about the Good Samaritan. I still have no evidence if the Assassins are included in this, so we must be cautious.

May the Father of Understanding guide you,

S.C.

 "Jackpot." She rolled her eyes. "Did they tell you how I hacked this shit?"

 William smiled. "I didn't know it was you."

 "I also have some shocking news for you, then." She kept smoking as she went right next to one of her computers and opened the cupboard under it, then grabbed a file. She took some papers from it and brought it for William to see. "This was what I found in my computer after I hacked Abstergo's private messages."

 William looked at the papers with some photos of the computer with it, each had a different message written on them. He read them carefully, trying not to look terrified.

Lurking. Around. Again. Assassin. ?

 He turned the page slowly.

 I. Know. That. Is. The. Only. Thing. You. Are. Capable. Of.

"At first I thought it was the Templars." Natalie explained. "I thought the data was booby trapped with some kind of virus. I knew some Templar engineers capable of doing that." William turned another page as Natalie spoke. "I knew I would leave no trace when I sneak into their data, but my first reaction was to double check. Then, this appeared."

It's. Not. The. Templars.

Don't. Be. Scared.

At. Least

Not. Yet. Natalie.

"What the hell?" William's voice gave away his shock.

 "That was exactly what I said." Natalie turned another page. "At that point I was home alone, freaking out basically. Whatever this was, it had taken my computer's entire control and there was no running from it."

I can. See. You. Are. Shocked.

By. My. Power.

I'm. Not. Surprised.

But. You. Will. Be.

When. You. Witness.

That. This. Is. Just.

A glimpse. Of. It.

The. Information. I'm. Providing. You. Is. Quite. Valuable.

"This is about the secret message by the S.C person, right?" William sounded confused. "Provide... That means the Good Samaritan wanted you to find out about it."

 "Why did this guy want me to have it?"

 "I can only think of one thing." William felt like his chest was burning. "It's because they're after Jennifer. And that's what brings everything together, Natalie. Her."

 "You met her yesterday." Natalie suddenly remembered. "What the hell happened?"

 William read the last message on the paper before he answered Natalie's question.

You. Don't. Know. Me. Yet. Natalie.

Your. Friends. And. Your. Enemies.

None. Of. Them. Know. Me.

When. You. Finally. Meet. Me.

You. Will. Beg For.

The. Death. I. Offer. You. Both.

"She..." His voice was shaking. "She showed me a memory of my mom."

Chapter Text

Earlier

*

"Three friends were taking a walk on the high plateaus of Persia. A panther sprang out at them with all the fierceness in the world.

 The panther looked at the three men for a long while and then ran towards them.

 The first was the oldest, the richest, and the most powerful. He cried out, 'I am the master of these districts. I shall never allow a beast to ravage the lands that belong to me.' He had with him two hunting dogs and set them on to the panther. They managed to bite it but the panther only became stronger, overwhelmed them, jumped on their master, and ripped out his intestines.

 Thus was the fate of Nizam al-Mulk.

 The second man wondered, 'I am man of knowledge, everyone honors and respects me. Why should my fate be decided by dogs and a panther?' He turned tail and fled without waiting for the outcome of the fight. Since then he has wandered from cave to cave, from hut to hut, convinced that the wild beast was always at his heels.

 Thus was the fate of Omar Khayyam.

 The third was a man of belief. He walked towards the panther with his hands open, with dominating demeanor and eloquent words. 'You are welcome to these lands,' he said to the panther. 'My companions were richer than I, and you despoiled them. They were prouder than I, and you have laid them low.' The beast listened, seduced and subdued. The man had the advantage over the panther, and managed to train it. Since then no panther has dared to approach him and men keep away.

 When the time of upheavals arrived, no one could stop its course, no one could flee it but some managed to use it. Hasan Sabbah, more than anyone, knew how to tame the ferocity of the world. He sowed fear all around him in order to make a tiny piece of calm for himself in his redoubt of Alamut."

*

"God! How?"

 It was too late when Jennifer realized the whole class was staring at her, she was thinking out loud.

 "You had a question about the Tribunal of the Holy Office, Jennifer?" Professor Hills gave her a blank look over his round glasses, which made a few people chuckle.

 "I..." She could see them now, all the smirking faces, confused and curious eyes. "I... meant it in a rhetorical way. God, how. All this chaos in the name of religion... you know..."

 Professor continued the lecture without saying a word as Jennifer took a deep breath. She closed the book she had been reading, Samarkand, and put it aside.

 "Honey, what was that all about?" She heard a curious whisper, which belonged to a voice she knew too well. Right next to her sat Sophia, with a questioning expression all over her pretty face.

 "Please don't ask..." Jennifer whispered back, hoping no one would hear again. "My mind is all over the place lately."

 "I knew that for a while but now it's starting to concern me." Her large blue eyes got even wider. "How about coffee after class?"

 Jennifer nodded. "Sounds good."

 The whole lecture was restless, she couldn't find the energy in herself to focus on anything else besides the bizzare dream she had. The voice still rang in her ears, distant and uncanny, one that sounded as if it was produced by a computer or a robot. Come closer, cipher. Perhaps we have met before, perhaps not. She could feel her heart racing in panic when she remembered the words. What was it, stress? Or some kind of mental disorder? Was her mind playing a cruel trick on her? You search for an artifact, let me show you the truth. The only thing she was searching for was an old book, or maybe a reason not to drop out of school. And what truth? She imagined Hasan Sabbah, the mysterious leader of yet another secret cult, standing on a podium and repeating the same words to his clueless followers hypnotizingly. Something about those words sounded like they would come out of his mouth.

 "Don't forget to e-mail me your essays on the consequences of the Inquisition until monday. Class dismissed."

 Jennifer felt creeped out when someone touched her shoulder unexpectedly.

 "Jumpy much?" Sophia was smiling, but she had a strange look in her eyes. "Earth to Jennifer?" She teased, with a humorous attitude.

 "Sorry..." Jennifer tried to explain, feeling like she was still on that high plateau of Persia, facing the same panther that Khayyam did. "I know what a total weirdo I have been lately."

 "Stress doesn't make you a weirdo, Jenny." She started putting some of the things on Jennifer's desk to her backpack to help her get ready. "Weirdo or not. You are my bestie and I just want you to be happy. That's why..." She opened her bag and grabbed her purse, pulling something that looked quite like a paper. "I got us these, we're going tonight!"

 Jennifer gasped and tried to see what those two papers she held in her hand. Tickets? For what?

 "Two tickets for the new carnival just outside the city." Sophia explained, without hesitation. "Also we have a discount on drinks in this place...Cirque Hypnosia, so you're welcome."

 "How did you manage to get that? I hope they weren't expensive."

 "Sugar, please..." A quirky smile spread all over her face. "You know me and Charlie are more than friends already."

 "Oh." Jennifer raised her eyebrows. "Then I'm sure he bought those for you two, Sophia."

 "Oh, don't be silly!" She whined, her British accent would be more obvious times like this. "He's a street magician, remember? The carnival has just hired him. We'll be seeing his crew's show." They sat down at the first empty table they found of the faculty cafeteria and put their stuff down. "And besides, he insisted me to bring a friend this time. Said I get to meet his friends and he doesn't get to meet mine."

 Jennifer was already biting inside her cheek nervously as her social anxiety kicked in. "I don't know. I'm sure he's not looking forward to a third wheel. Besides I haven't slept all night and I have so much to work to do on the thesis..."

 Sophia suddenly seemed upset. "If you have other plans, or you don't want to come with me, no pressure." She took her purse. "I just thought, maybe you need a little distraction from all this. A little change of mood, perhaps. It's been a while since the last time you and I had fun."

 Jennifer took a deep breath.The weird cult guys, the academics, sleepless nights and now hallucinations? It was all getting too much. "You're right. You're so right and thank you."

 "So you're coming!" Her voice gave away the hapiness she felt.

 "Count me in." Jennifer couldn't help but give her a tired, genuine smile. "I'm so glad I have you by my side." She opened her arms and Sophia gave her a warm hug, filling Jennifer's nose with one of those fancy colognes she was wearing. "I feel better already."

 "I won't let my friend drown in academic stress when she has a life to live. That's the least I can do for someone who didn't leave me alone with an eating disorder."

 "You don't have to feel like you owe me a debt." Jennifer replied with a shy tone in her voice.

 "Not at all." Her eyebrows rose along with a beautiful shimmering in her blue eyes. "Like I said, I want you to be happy. Now, I'll be getting an Americano, how do you feel about a latte?"

 "Great. I'll just text my dad first about our plans tonight and meet you in the line."

 "Oh no, don't bother." She stood up. "This one's on me."

 "Sophia, no, that's too much..." Jennifer tried to stand up as Sophia didn't let her.

 "Jen. Today is officially your rest day, learn to accept some favors, hun."

 Jennifer sighed, it seemed like she had no other choice. She had a point. "Thanks so much again, Sophia."

 The rest of the day went faster than the usual, Jennifer listened Sophia talk about her stuff, like the new guy her mother was seeing and the way her thesis consultant always avoided the critical questions she had for him. Though being completely different from each other, spending time with her made Jennifer feel safe and understood every time - she'd always listen to Sophia's problems to forget her own. Still, she had no courage to bring up the bizzare hallucination she had to anyone, including Sophia - poor girl was too worried for her already. I don't want her to find out her stressed friend is also a loony, she thought to herself.

 They spent the rest of their time together, getting dinner in an Italian restaurant before the circus thing, which Jennifer realized she knew so little about. She could remember Sophia showing some of Charlie's videos to her, seemed like he had quite an audience.

 "So?" She asked, with a playful smile. "How does this magic thing work, really?" 

 "Sweetheart, what makes you think I know?" Sophia laughed, taking some more salad on her plate.

 "I don't know, you've been hanging out with your guy for a while, you might as well have some insight." She knew she sounded cheesy, which wasn't her everyday attitude at all, but couldn't help herself when it made Sophia laugh more. "If I were you, I'd probably be dying to know."

 "Well, as far as I've seen..." She paused to swallow her food. "There are all sorts of it. Card tricks, mentalism... levitation, all kinds of stuff. And I guess most of them prefer to specialize in a particular type of illusion."

 "Oh wow."

 "Yeah, like Charlie is way better at stage magic than card tricks. But one of his friends in the crew is a whole prodigy of it." She seemed pleased to see Jennifer was interested in this. "I can't wait for you to meet them."

 "This is going to be interesting."

 The taxi ride didn't take long, though Jennifer still took her time watching the street - the people in a rush, holding hands with one another, smiling and frowning faces sliding away as the taxi went by. Jennifer thought about them, the people she didn't even know, how they had their own lives, happy and sad moments, families and everyday things they worried about. From time to time she would wonder what it would be like to experience another reality, away from the monotone responsibilities that made her lose sleep.

 She startled as her phone buzzed for a second, and then it occured to her that she completely forgot to text her dad about her plans with Sophia.

 -Hey, are you going to be studying late at school again? I've been completely swamped at work today, sorry I couldn't call.

 "Is everything okay, Jenny?" Sophia turned to her back with a curious face.

 "Ihm-hmm..." She nodded. "I just realized I forgot to text my dad, that's all."

 "Oops. Say hi to Mr. Hope for me. I hope he doesn't mind our last minute plan."

 "Sure thing. No problem." said Jennifer, as her fingers started tapping the screen really fast.

- I forgot to text you earlier. Sophia bought some tickets for a magic show out of town. I'll be taking a break for tonight. Also, Sophia says hi.

 "Here we are, Jen!" warbled Sophia, as Jennifer put down her phone and paid for the taxi.

 There we go, she thought, after she thanked the taxi driver and got out of the car to the thundering music outside coming from the amusement park. All the bright, flashing colors from the mechanics and the sound of people screaming their lungs out with adrenaline blended in with each other the second she got out.

 Sophia linked their arms again, just like she always did. "See that pub over the corner? That's where we're headed." Jennifer stared at the pubs with all the colorful signboards, it took her a little while to find Cirque Hypnosia, which had a rabbit inside a hat and some playing cards as a logo. She couldn't help but smile.

 "It was a pub all along? I don't know why I thought about a circus tent when you told me the name of the place."

 "Even after I told you about the drink discount we have?"

 "I mean... yeah?" They both started giggling as they got closer.

 "Wait." Sophia suddenly stopped, right outside the gate before they went inside. She seemed tense, nervous even, Jennifer could see her blushing. "How do I look?"

 Jennifer couldn't help but laugh as she rolled her eyes, feeling a little cringed for not complimenting her friend. "You're stunning as usual."

 Those words didn't seem to make any difference, since Sophia still checked her reflection through the glass of some parked car, trying to fix her dress for no reason. Jennifer was still smirking as she watched Sophia put on her lipstick again. "You done? I'm eager to see some rabbits inside hats."

 "Coming." She fixed her dress for the second time as she scurried.

 Jennifer held the door for her as both got inside the warm place, which was getting crowded already for the magic show. It was way quieter inside, the stage in the middle was almost ready for the performance. Jennifer couldn't help but to stare at all the magic-inspired decoration all over the place - like the word abracadabra written with flashing lights on the wall, the paintings with funny eye illusions everywhere, interesting masks with card symbols, and vintage Houdini posters.

 "Wow, this is so nice." Jennifer was glad she had one of her arms linked with Sophia's, else she'd probably get dizzy from looking at everything around her.

 "Right? Wait until you see the show!" Sophia seemed like she was positively trembling with excitement, Jennifer wondered how many times she had been here for the same show over and over again. "Charlie and his friends are probably backstage upstairs, how about we go now? We can still see the show from the upper balcony if you want."

 "Yeah, let's do that." Jennifer was suddenly all ears for the song that was being played.

Crystal ball on the table,

Showing the future, the past...

 "Hey, I love this song!" She couldn't help but laugh when Sophia started giggling as she sang along with a small, funny dance move.

 "Same cat with them evil eyes... Oh!" She suddenly bumped against some guy as turned around, shocked and embarrased.

"Distracted, are you?" A tall, blonde man in a fancy suit was watching her with a smile on his lips, seemed like he was enjoying her confusion.

 "Charlie!" Sophia cried out loud while Jennifer was still trying to figure out what was happening. That was Charlie? The Charlie? "I thought you'd be upstairs!"

 "I came down to see if you're here." He spoke with a thick Irish accent, one that Jennifer had to pay attention to understand.

 "Well, we just got here." She blushed as she tried to fix her hair bashfully.

 "You had some nice dance moves right there." He laughed and suddenly started kissing Sophia. Great. Here starts my shift as a third wheel, Jennifer thought, unable to help herself. She was really happy for her, but it felt weird to be there while she was kissing some guy.

 Jennifer started looking away when she heard Sophia let out a small cough to introduce her. "Charlie, this is my best friend Jennifer I told you about."

 "Right, the famous Jennifer." He winked at her and held Jennifer's hand. "It's relieving to finally meet one of your friends, baby."

 Jennifer smiled kindly as she shook hands with Charlie. "Hi. It's great to meet you."

 "It's great to meet you too, hope you enjoy the show." He suddenly checked his watch. "Listen, how about you girls go upstairs and you introduce Jennifer to the rest of the team, Sophia? I'm kind of running out of time."

 "Of course. Good luck out there, break a leg." Sophia kissed him on the cheek.

 "You know I will. Have fun."

 Sophia escorted Jennifer to the stairs as she was smiling uncontrollably.

 "Wow. You guys are a power couple already." teased Jennifer, when Sophia rolled her eyes.

 "We'll talk." She winked and approached to a really stunning lady, whose dark skin glowed like a lava lamp under the lights with her neon make-up. "Hey Maya!"

 "Ah, ma chérie! Welcome, welcome, welcome!" She spoke with a French accent, as she was hugged Sophia. "You look gorgeous."

 "So do you, oh my. I'm obsessed with your outfits! Hey, remember I said I'd bring my friend? This is Jennifer."

 Jennifer was stunned by just looking at her outfit, an asymmetrical catsuit decorated with sparkly red snake design. "Oh wow." She let out a small laugh. "Hi, Maya."

 "Bienvenue, beauté!" She hugged Jennifer without hesitation, and caressed her hair. "Aren't you a pretty one!"

 "Is William around here?" Sophia asked playfully.

 "His shift has just ended. He'll be here in a minute." Maya and Jennifer approached to a reserved table. "I'll get you girls some good wine to drink."

 "Hey, don't bother. Your show is about to start." Sophia smiled as she and Jennifer sat on the chairs. "We'll get some drinks ourselves."

 "Then I'll see you guys after the show, oui? Enjoy, girls." Just like a ballerina, she went to the stairs in an elegant manner where she almost bumped against a guy who used a walking stick. Maya seemed relieved and pissed off at the same time, yet Jennifer's French was too deficient to understand what the deal was between those two. "Te voilà, William! Nous avons des visiteurs!"

 "Nous avons des visiteurs?" The guy with the walking stick spoke with a low, calm voice before he turned his back to them, almost sounding like he was surprised. Maya pointed the table with her eyes and disappeared into the crowd as the guy turned his back.

Give me the ring on your finger

Let me see the lines on your hand

I can see me a tall dark stranger

Giving you what you hadn't planned. 

 That was when their eyes met - Jennifer curiously stared at his colorful eyes while the guy, William, slowly lifted his eyebrows. His eyes were stuck on Jennifer's for a second, and then, as if he was a wearing it like a mask, a sweet smile appeared on his face. He quickly turned to Sophia. "Hey, lovebird. Why am I not surprised?" He joked, with the same calm attitude. Jennifer couldn't help but stare at him, wearing only a simple white shirt unlike the rest of his friends.

 "Hi, Willy!" Sophia let out a big laugh. "Did you miss me?"

 "Well, your absence is definitely felt around here." He smiled kindly. No French accent, just a good old American one, Jennifer couldn't help but think.

 "Meet my friend Jennifer, we go way back. I thought it's about time she saw the show."

 Their eyes met again, this time he had a soft expression on his face, welcoming even. She stared at him for a second - bronze skin and grayish eyes with a kind, curious sparkle inside of them, very symmetrical face, and the curliest hair Jennifer had ever seen.

 He made the first move to reach out, and spoke with a warm tone. "Hello, Jennifer." Jennifer held his hand briefly to shake it.

 She's just a devil woman with evil on her mind

Beware the devil woman, she's gonna get you. 

 The moment she touched his skin, her sight completely went pitch black.

 She froze in panic when she saw an angelic figure who looked more like a hologram than a real person, wearing a helmet-like veil on her head. Her eyes were completely, spine-chillingly white and shining, and they were focused on her only. She wanted to scream when she realized it was her hand she was holding. Jennifer wanted to wake up from this nightmare, but it was as if she had no voice nor oxygen in her lungs, totally unable to make a sound.

 Jennifer inhaled in fear when she heard her speak, it was the same exact voice she heard in her dream.

Î̃̃͘ ca̸n̑̏̈͡ ̇f̊e̵e͛͜l̶̋͊̆ y̧̌ͯ̍oú,͛̈ ͘cip͆ͮ̒hͥ͋eŕ͑̋͢

F͓̥͍e̖͉̭ͅel.̺̥͖̙ ̻̝B̡̗͔̦̫̩͖ͅu̯̹͔̼t͉͓̪͎ ha̺̠̪r̠̣̺̲̣ͅd̖̖̜̙l̛̘͇͓y ̸to͍͜u͈͍̣̬͓ch̤̝̤̮͉͝ͅ.

D̼̰͕̼̘͎̤̝̠̻͎͕o̙͈̤ y͍͍̥̞ou̱͖͇͍͍̰ͅ ̺̭͈͚̹͔r̗͙̝̺e̞̬̦̥̞̗͕̫̝͕̭m͇̘̟̤e̹̩̳̹̜͉͕͕̟͙̖̟m͕͙͚̝͚̰͎̰̰̤̟̰͍̤ͅbe̫̣̪̻̝̳̩͖͉͖̟̖͔͕ͅr̘̬̟͙͚ ẖ̤̟im̻? ͎̳͖̮͚̥

Y̐̀ò̩̩̐u ̦ͬhaͩ́͏̖̠v͞ě̏̊ ̉̕a͐̽l̬̼̩̽̐̆r̀ea͝d͔ͤ͌ͅý̥̜ m̙̏ȅͨ͜ţ̫̫ͅ.̥̙͛ͯ

Yõ̊͋̂̈́ǜ̾͊ ̈́̈́͢r̐̇̀͊̂̍ͭȅ̍͋m̌̎̽̈́͠ěͪ͒ͪm̚b͋̾ͮ̉ͤ̅ė̉ͨṙ͂̄̓ͣͯ͒͢. ͡

Chapter Text

"I know it sounds lunatic, believe me. But she actually showed me a glimpse of a memory... A memory of my mom."

"That's news." Izar was the skeptical man he had always been - though he managed to stay calm, William knew him well enough to tell when he was hiding his true emotions. "Define 'showing a memory'."  

"I can't."  

Izar's smile seemed ironic, he couldn't help but notice something was quite different about William, though he couldn't figure out what it was just yet. "What's that supposed to mean?" 

"It means I don't have the words for it."  William stared blankly, as if he was forcing himself to remember. "She held my hand for a second and I have no idea how I saw my mother."  

"She held your hand and you don't have the words to explain?" He started smirking as he pulled a chair. "That's the kind of stuff I haven't heard from you for a long while."

"Only to shake hands, you know, like normal people do?" William explained, nodding his head. He couldn't believe how Izar never skipped the chance to make a joke. "Do you know if mom was keeping any secrets from me?"

"Why don't you sit?"  Izar suddenly sounded odd.

William sighed and sat down to the chair right in front of him, placing his walking stick on the wooden table. Izar didn't hesitate to grab it, his skillful engineer fingers quickly started tapping some kind of a password to its stiff grip. He had a shimmer in his eyes, one that always appeared whenever he found the chance to take himself back to his old engineering days. In no time, a small, very mechanical-looking lid opened, revealing a shiny piece of hologram which showed some very complex animated data. "It seems to be in good shape... Better than I expected, to be honest."

"This one is. The brown one, though, could use your attention."  William spoke fast, he wasn't going to let Izar change the topic. "About my question?"

Izar gently pushed the lid and closed it as the walking stick vibrated, sometimes even William forgot how smart Izar programmed that thing. "What kind of a secret are we talking about?" He still avoided making eye contact, which was more than suspicious.

"'Not sure. Something about the surname de Grandpré, maybe."

 "Oh boy." Izar's lips parted in silent surprise. "What exactly did she show you?" He started blinking rapidly - suddenly his voice wasn't hiding the shock he felt.  

William watched his sudden change of emotions. "My mother seemed... so young, and quite frightened. Then I heard this man's voice, adressing her as Félicité de Grandpré. I couldn't tell who it was, though, it was an unfamiliar-"

"Hold on." Izar stopped him, grabbing a notebook and a pen from the drawer in rush. "Tell me the whole thing. From the start, please, don't skip any details about that night."  

Jennifer felt like her whole life was slowly crumbling into pieces, yet nothing she could do was going to stop it from happening.

Deep inside, she could feel her sanity slipping through her fingers - as she remembered the hologram-like face of the angelic woman, the heaviness of the tears in her eyes became more unbearable. Her mind was telling her to run back home and tell her dad about the hallucinations, even though he would have a hard time understanding them, yet her knees were too weak to carry her - as if she were a screw compressed on the chair.

The laughing, crying and the shouting sounds of the crowd were filling her ears like a hum, everything felt gray, all she could think about was the words of the hologram. I can feel you cipher, feel but hardly touch. She couldn't help but remember the magician guy, William, and how his face suddenly changed after shaking her hand. Do you remember him? You have already met. She pushed herself to remember anything about him, but nothing seemed familiar in her memories, she had never seen him before. Not a single thing made sense. The only thing she was certain of was the fact that she needed some professional help, her whole body started shivering when she thought about the hologram again. You remember.

Sophia's loud laughter was the thing that brought her back from the darkness she was slowly being consumed into. "Jen? Did you see that?"

She quickly gathered herself together and put a forced smile on her face, the uncomfortably heavy feeling in her stomach grew the moment she saw the scene - Maya's body looked like it was cut in half in some kind of box. Charlie, on the other hand, was somehow making doves appear out of nowhere. Jennifer could see how shocked and amused the audience was, Sophia must had been curious why she showed no reaction for anything.

"Oh, wow."

"Are you alright, darling?" Sophia easily noticed the change in Jennifer's tone. "Not a fan of the show?"

"It's just my stomach." Jennifer smiled at her as she avoided making eye contact. "I just have to use the restroom."

"Do you need me to come with you?"

"Not at all." Jennifer stood up. "It won't take long. Don't worry, just enjoy the show."

It took a while to find her way through the crowd, even the stairs were full of people watching the show with gleamy eyes and thrilled faces. Her small body slipped around the gaps between the audience, and she managed to figure out a way to the restroom while she avoided looking at her reflection in the mirror. She washed her hands and face with cold water, but nothing helped with the suffocating lump in her throat - she knew she needed some fresh air.

Not caring about the people she bumped into, she almost ran to the exit door, some kind of a footstep sound echoing in the back of her ears.

The cold air that filled her lungs felt like a relief, she walked the street until her mind was no different than a blank page. She had no understanding of time until her eyes started to tear up from the wind, that was when she quickly realized her body was shivering with cold.

Jennifer stopped to see how far she had walked, Cirque Hypnosia was almost a few hundred meters away from her now. Slowly, the sounds started to come back, the distant noise of the city, a few people talking and drinking, and a very silent echo of footsteps.

Rigid, she stopped.

The sound of the footsteps stopped with her. 

"She later told me she was being followed by someone." William's calm voice was filled with an eerie tone. "I never saw anything. She was crying when I found her near the back door."

"Followed, how?" Izar's eyebrows slowly raised, as he waited for some kind of a clarification. "By who?"

"You know who."

"The Good Samaritan." His expression suddenly went blank, as if he was missing a piece in the equation.

Was she imagining things again?

She turned to her back, only to see a shadow-like figure of a man with a hat, looking directly at her. She stared at him in a catatonic stupor, it was so hard to move her body - her muscles were frozen in shock. She should've called her dad. It was a mistake to come here.

 Jennifer stood there, wondering if she was hallucinating once again, but unlike the hologram woman this man seemed very much real, lacking the robotic-like figure. She was sure of it - this was an actual person who must have followed her after she left Cirque Hypnosia, and maybe, he even was inside the pub in the first place. What did he want? Jennifer couldn't come up with anything, her mind could only focus on the terror she felt.

She took a deep breath and slowly walked next to a few people - some guys who seemed way too drunk to be trusted. Jennifer felt her legs shake as the man moved with her at the same time, she could hear the guys laughing and making absurd jokes. One of them started catcalling her but she ignored it completely, all she could focus on was the bunch of crowded women in front of her walking on the street. If she could get between them, there was big chance she'd be safe from the maniac that was after her.

The moment the man made a move towards her, she didn't hesitate to burst into a frenzied run. Without a doubt, the man started running right away, he was even faster than Jennifer expected. Her chest grew so tight, it became harder to breathe with each step, she didn't realize the uncontrollable screaming sound she made until people started staring at her. "Help! Help!"

"You can't escape, cipher!" The man's roaring voice echoed in the street, causing the women to panic. Jennifer blended in them, hoping to make the man lose her track, and quickly turned left from the corner of the street. She had no idea where she was, and she couldn't find the courage to turn back. The sounds of the street and the women she had just passed started to disappear slowly, and she ran until her legs couldn't carry her anymore. Her lungs were soar and the burning feeling that emerged from her throat eventually forced her to stop. She bent over unintentionally, and quickly realized the horrifying sound coming out of her mouth, like a wounded animal, her cheeks soaking wet with her tears.

 "What - Jesus, what the hell happened?" A familiar voice with a very shocked tone was the first thing she noticed, but she couldn't get herself together, all she did was to cry and moan in panic. "Are you hurt?"

She felt him grabbing her body kindly to get her standing up. Strange, she thought, how did he find me in all this mess?

Jennifer finally stood up thanks to his help, and managed to look at William's very terrified looking gray eyes. She couldn't stop crying, her body was trembling each second.

"Take a deep breath slowly." His voice was calm and kind, but still, his face looked really concerned. "What happened to you? I thought you were at the show."

"I..." She tried to speak, but a growling sound escaped from her burning throat. She started coughing right away.

"Take this, please." William gave her a piece of napkin before he took off his dark gray jacket and put it on her gently.

"Someone was after me." Jennifer felt better after her shivering slowed down, but she still couldn't seem to process what just happened to her. "A man followed me."

A small, sudden expression of shock appeared on William's face, but he quickly pulled himself together and his eyes scanned the street. "Someone you know?"

Jennifer shook her head both sides, she had no idea who that maniac was. "No."

"Come on, let's get you inside, dear."

Jennifer didn't realize how awkward the whole situation was until he opened a small door of a building. "What is this place?" She asked, suspiciously.

"Just the backstage door." He replied, and moved a little bit left to let her see the show from another angle. Jennifer heard Charlie's voice from the microphone, and felt a huge relief. She didn't even remember running back to the pub with all that panic.

William shut the door after she got in, now she could see the stage much closer. "Do you need help coming up the stairs?"

 "I'll be fine. Thank you."

 "Follow me, let's get you where you can sit comfortably." His voice was gentle and polite, Jennifer suddenly felt her stiff muscles starting to relax, but the shivering was still there.

 She watched him climb the stairs with his black walking stick right in front of him, slowly checking her every move to see if she was alright. It was the strangest thing, being helped by a magician she just met that evening, but she was in no mental state to question it. What was it, that Sophia told her? Learn to accept some favors, hun.

 They climbed three floors, and the stairs finally brought them to a large dressing room full of stage outfits and a bunch of sofas. William turned on the nice looking floor lamp and the other smaller one on the table, which was shaped as if it was being carried by a crow. Yellow lights illuminated the room as Jennifer gazed at this place, the weird stage magic stuff was everywhere - unusual looking chairs, boxes with symmetrical shapes on them, colorful fabrics and staffs.   "Sorry about the mess. Please, make yourself comfortable."

Jennifer slowly approached the sofa and sat down, she suddenly felt dizzy as her mind drifted away from the reality she was in. It all felt like she was in a cruel dystopia, and nowhere near being sane. "Thank you so much." Her voice sounded like a stranger's.

"Of course..." Her eyes caught him near a small refrigerator, grabbing some water and filling a glass with it - she couldn't help but notice his rushing manner, and holding the walking stick at the same time wasn't helping him. "It will help with your throat."

"You're too kind." She forced herself to smile yet failed, as she grabbed the water glass from his hand. The water felt like a relief for her burning throat, but she still couldn't stop her knees from shaking.

William grabbed a small blanket, one that looked more like a scarf, and kindly handed it to her. "It can get cold in here." He sat down to the sofa in front of her slowly, placing his walking stick right next to him. His worried eyes caught Jennifer as she put the blanket on her knees - her wavy brown hair was all messed up from the chase, the light makeup that covered her brown eyes was all over the place because of her tears, and her small face seemed very shaken.

 "William, I don't know how to thank you." She spoke with a cracking voice, and took a sip from the water right after that. "If you hadn't found me... I don't even want to think about the possibilities, I -"

 "Please, don't feel like you have to thank me. Anyone would've done the same." He let out a humble smile, which disappeared in a second. "Has someone been harassing you lately?"

"No." She answered, with a questioning tone. "I mean, not that I know of."

  "Are you sure?"

  There was no way Jennifer could tell him, a guy she just met, about the sickeningly vivid hallucinations she had been dealing with. "I am sure, absolutely." She paused for a second, hoping he believed it. "I think I should call the police. It could be dangerous for other women..."

"There is no valid reason for the Templars to stalk her, her father is one of them." William confirmed. "I should've been more careful. I'll ask Natalie to hack the security camera footage." His gaze fixed on Izar's pen, moving up and down as he wrote a few words on his notebook. "We'll find out who exactly was stalking her."

"There was no way you could've known." He went silent for a second. "What if..." He whispered, almost sounded like he was thinking out loud. "...Showed a memory, you say..."  

"I'll tell Charlie about it first thing after the show." He nodded. "I'm so sorry about what happened, this is so terrible... I - "  He stopped for a second, and continued with a much shyer manner. "If you don't mind me asking, were you going home? I thought you were at the show with Sophia. I didn't know you'd be leaving so early."

 "I wasn't leaving." Jennifer replied, lowering her eyes. "I just... needed some fresh air."

William nodded, listening to her words carefully, seemed like he really was trying to get her side of the story. "I understand."

Suddenly Jennifer had a feeling that she was being too discreet to him for no reason. All he had ever been was kind. "No. I'm sorry, for being awkward and all." She paused. "I haven't been myself lately, and Sophia thought this show could help me get away from the stress." She sighed. "But I think my stress roots deeper than I thought."

William's friendly smile was unexpected, his brows raised up with a questioning expression. "What is it that worries you so much?" His voice had a warm tone, Jennifer somehow felt relieved to hear it, a stranger who was ready to listen. She had never been in a situation like this before - but there was something soothing about the fact that he knew absolutely nothing about her life.

"I'm writing this thesis..." Even saying it out loud made her stomach hurt. "And it feels like it's an endless torture lately. It's like... I have nothing else in my life that takes so much space. Suddenly life's all about citations, consultants, the defence and a book you can never find." She took a deep breath. "And it sucks that I want it to be perfect, but I hate it at the same time. No matter how much I check things, there's always an error. I feel guilty when I rest, or even think about something else. I suppose it started to affect my mental health more seriously than I thought it would."

Izar took a deep breath and turned his eyes to William's curious looking gray ones. "You know, Animus sessions should be carefully planned, otherwise overexposure to the machine would cause one to suffer from a really serious condition called the Bleeding Effect." He explained, even though he was aware William already knew about the phenomenon. "Reality becomes crooked, memories blend with each other, one can't distinguish between what belongs to the ancestor, and what belongs to them."

William nodded, yet he was still clueless. "And you think she experienced the Bleeding Effect."

"The Templars knew she was a powerful Sage before we did. They might as well put her in Animus to understand what that truly meant."

"I'm not so sure." William grabbed a cigarette from his jacket's pocket, and lighted it as he stood silent in confusion. "She talked about how stressed she was about her thesis though. I don't think her father would put her through something that traumatic when she is already dealing with bunch of stuff."

"You don't know that." He sounded skeptical, which was not unfamiliar. 

 Jennifer sighed loudly as she shut her eyes, for a second she forgot William was there. "Sometimes I find myself wishing I was someone else. Doing something that I love. Painting, skating, growing a garden, driving a school bus, anything. Which is ironic, by the way, I used to love learning about history..." She opened her eyes, only to see William with the same friendly smile, listening. She quickly tried to gather herself together, now she felt like a fool for oversharing. "Sorry if I bored you with my overwhelming academic issues."

"Not at all." He still had that kind voice tone, with a slight curious expression. "Well, I think it was so thoughtful of Sophia to bring you here for some fun. I know it's not my place to say this, but I feel like what you need is to talk about your problems instead of sweeping them under the rug." He stood up and grabbed his walking stick. "Confrontation, instead of... stimulation, I suppose." She smirked. Of course her way of facing problems was to talk about them with a complete stranger. "Can I get you some coffee, by the way? We had some."

 She inhaled, trying to relax her tight muscles. "Yes, please. That sounds great."  

He grabbed his walking stick with a quick move, and walked to the corner which they must had been using as a small kitchen. Jennifer watched him as he grabbed two mugs, and put some water in the kettle to boil.

 "Let me help you." 

 "No, please. I got this. You should rest." He put out some coffee and continued. "What about the book you can never find?"

Jennifer was quite surprised he caught that. She completely forgot she mentioned it. "Oh. Just a translation of an antique manuscript called Sub Superficie Terrae, about the history of hidden sects and orders." She stood up as William poured the coffee into two mugs, and walked over the corner to get hers. "I've been looking for it for months, but even the second hand ones are nowhere to be found. Just my luck."

"And your thesis depends on it?"

 They both sat down, Jennifer put the blanket on her legs as she held the hot mug between her cold hands. "Well, it doesn't exactly depend on it, but the book would definitely make a huge contribution." She took a sip from her coffee, the hot, bitter taste slowly filling her mouth. "What about you?" she managed to ask, after a few silent seconds. It felt a little too much, talking all about herself, but William didn't seem like he was complaining.

"Me?" He rolled his eyes, smiling. "I'm just a simple circus magician with a few cheesy card tricks."

For the first time, Jennifer laughed genuinely, letting the anxiety and the fear behind. "I don't believe that for a second."

"No? Why not?" He grabbed a cigarette and a lighter from his pocket, and put it between his lips which had a curious smile on them, joking even. Seemed like he was enjoying the idea of her taking a wild guess. "Mind if I?"

Jennifer shook her head both sides quickly. "I don't know yet. But you seem like a good listener and a genuine person."  

 She could see the glow in William's gray eyes. "So do you." He replied. "I mean, I know we've just met, but I have no doubt you will achieve great things in your life."   

 Jennifer realized she was smiling. "I'm Jennifer Hope." She raised her hand forward, William grabbed her hand again, just as he did before.  

 "William Aguillard."

"She is looking for a book, one that you may be surprised to hear, actually." William suddenly smirked, Izar realized how his eyes glowed. "Seems like while we were looking for her, she was also looking for us."  

 "This better surprise me."  

 "She told me she had been looking for Sub Superficie Terrae for months. Obviously she couldn't just purchase one online." joked William, Izar let out a laugh in amazement. "Seems like someone's curious about the history of the Creed."

 "Well, would you look at that." He sighed. "She's a clever girl."  Izar couldn't help but notice the way William's attitude changed, even though he tried to hide it, Izar knew the child he had raised a little too well. "And a cute one, possibly? Judging by your smile when you talk?"  

 William rolled his eyes and chuckled sarcastically. "Come on." He sighed. "Why do you keep saying that?"

 "Oh I know when something's up with you." Izar grinned.

 "And I know when you want to avoid talking about certain stuff. Changing topics." William replied. "Why don't you tell me the de Grandpré thing she showed me about my mom."

 Izar suddenly fell silent, his eyes focused on somewhere far away in the room. William could tell he was trying to decide whether or not to talk about something, which made him nervous. Soon, he spoke without a particular tone in his voice, yet avoided making eye contact with him. "Your mother's surname is Aguillard, you see. But that family name belonged to her mother, Celestine Aguillard, and her side of the family. Her family's real surname however, de Grandpré, goes back to  Ms. Aveline de Grandpré, legendary Assassin in New Orleans back in 1760's."

William showed no emotion, he was trying to make sense of what he had just been told. Of course he knew about Aveline de Grandpré, yet he never thought his bloodline could be linked with hers. "Why would my mother hide that from us?" He whispered, almost like talking to himself. 

"Your mother..." Izar was struggling to explain. He took a deep breath, and tried again. "Years ago, before she had her children, she found herself in a unique position, one that no Assassin in the Brotherhood has faced before. That situation... required her to stay hidden."

"And what was that unique position?" William asked, his voice sounded like he was starving to know.

 Izar let go his pen and notebook, he sure sounded like it was an agony to talk about. In no time, the guilt in his voice was so obvious, William knew he was also hiding stuff as well. "The time when the Templars and the Assassins were in a truce."

 Sophia got inside the room in a huge shock and relief just when William and Jennifer were shaking hands, with Charlie in his stage clothes right beside her. Jennifer pulled her hand quickly when the door opened, but it was no use, she saw what she saw. Though, she seemed more worried than curious. "Where the hell were you? You left to go to the bathroom and never came back!"

Jennifer walked next to her in a shy manner, blood rushing to her cheeks as Charlie and Sophia exchanged looks between William and herself. "I know, I'm so sorry... I wasn't feeling well enough to come back inside."

"Why didn't you text or call?"

 She struggled to say a word, where would she begin? Her hallucinations? The guy who chased her?  How would she tell her best friend the truth without freaking her out?  "I just..."

 "She was with me, lovebird. Sorry." William spoke, with the same kind voice. She felt her whole face burning when Sophia gave both of them a questioning look. "She said she was feeling really sick when I saw her trying to get some fresh air. Guess she threw up, or something. I thought she could rest here. Could you make sure she gets home safe?"

That wasn't entirely true, yet it wasn't a whole ass lie.  "Oh my God." Sophia sighed. "Absolutely. Let's get you home, okay?"  

Jennifer nodded and briefly turned to William, who had just saved her from a very embarrasing lie attempt. For a glimpse of a second, she saw him winking. She blinked a couple of times in return and said her goodbyes to everyone.

They both got in a taxi while Sophia was still talking about the show and Jennifer's stomach issues, but she was too distracted to reply, all she did was to listen to her as the taxi drove by the streets.  

That was when she realized she was still wearing William's jacket.

Chapter Text

One look at the Headquarters, and Natalie Ivanova-Parker's brown eyes would be filled with disdain, and today was no exception.

To be brutally honest, the way she always had been, she couldn't quite figure out why William insisted her to be here - he knew how much it repulsed her to be around this place, and more so, the possiblity of facing her mother. It fucking rots, she thought to herself as her eyes wandered around the old books, this whole place rots with the old men making decisions for everyone else inside of it.

"Glad you could make it." William's voice caught her off-guard, causing her to startle. She quickly pulled herself together, her expression changing from bitter to a mocking one. 

 "Oh crap, did I scare you?" He grinned childishly.

 "Hell yes, asshole." She shook her head with irony. "So, englighten me would you, now that you're a Master Assassin, all the rest of us are supposed to be wherever you want us to be based on your daily schedual?"

 Her cracking voice gave away the chain-smoking, but William couldn't help but laugh at her usual sarcastic attitude. "Sorry if I kept you from a special occasion." He gave her a quick stare from top to bottom, she was wearing all black - ripped jeans, high heel boots and one of her long jackets, alongside her black, vintage sunglasses that made her look like an indie rockstar from the 80's. Not to mention the black cowboy hat covering her messy, blonde hair. "...The occasion being a funeral?"

"Bingo, my self respect died the moment I stepped into this hellhole, r.i.p." She held her right hand up and performed a quick sign of the cross, which made William laugh even more.

"Come on now, you know you're always welcome here. Mentor Gabriel would never allow anyone to judge you. Him and Izar ask for you every now and then." William sat down to one of the chairs, as Natalie did the same. "Izar says we should stick to one another. I agree with him."

"Oh please. Stick together, my ass." She unexpectedly reached for William's pocket, grabbing his lighter and his cigarette box, causing him a little shock. Good. Now who's scaring who, babyface? "And since when you're his little advocate?"

"I'm no advocate." He replied, without a doubt. "I just think it's about time the Brotherhood got rid of outdated ideas. I'll make sure that happens."

"Nothing will ever change for us as long as bunch of men are ruling this place, making decisions for women of the Creed for centuries." She took out one of his cigarettes, and placed it on her lips. The lighter took a little long to catch fire. "Keep in mind, lesbians are hated, because women are hated. Simple as that."

William nodded in silence and watched her as she smoked. "I see." There was a small silence as he remembered everything Natalie had to go through that time, when she came out years ago. "Well, that kind of thinking got us where we are, and it has to change if we want to face our enemy."

She let out a playful laugh. "Look at you, lecturing like a presidential candidate." She placed her legs on the top of the antique table, not caring about if she'd damage the old thing at all. "Tell me, have you told Izar about your... situation?"

"What situation?" He suddenly thought about Jennifer for no reason, but he had already told Izar everything that happened with her. There was nothing more. Yet, he found himself hoping. Was Natalie going to crack jokes about him being flirty like Izar did? He most definitely was not being flirty.

Natalie gave him a brief, allusive stare over her glasses. "The bank robbing at three a.m. after we drank all my tequila last night? Duh?" She rolled her eyes, then proceeded to talk really fast, quietly. "Are you kidding me? I'm talking about the fact that no one knows The Grandmaster of Templars wrote you a letter and got poisoned the day he met you! Which got you banished from the Brotherhood, remember?"

William sighed, he felt embarrased for thinking about a girl he just met right away. "There are a few things I must learn before I tell them the truth. I need time. Can you please keep your mouth shut about this?" He whispered. "I need your help with this." 

"I'm all ears, fellow Master Assassin, like a genie in a bottle. Allow me to grant your wishes."

William's face changed to a more serious expression, ignoring her joke attempts. "The surveillance cameras around Cirque Hypnosia the night I met Jennifer Hope." His gray eyes focused on a spot far away. "Especially the main street. I want you to hack them and tell me everything you see."

"And for what reason exactly?"

"Jennifer Hope told me someone chased her that night." He explained. "Izar has a theory that she might have been hallucinating, or experiencing the bleeding effect. He thinks the Templars are putting her through Animus sessions to learn about Sages."

Natalie put down her feet and took off her sunglasses. "Well, what you're asking is a piece of cake and I'll get it done, but Izar's probably right about this one. You know how they love to throw people in the Animus like it's their fucking hobby, or something." She smoked again, thinking about what William just told. "You don't agree with Izar?"

"I want to make sure," He replied with an unsettled tone. "That we're not missing a piece in the puzzle."

"Consider it done. Do you have a time period on your mind? When do you think this whole 'chase' happened?" She air quoted in a quirky way.

"Not long after the usual nine p.m. show. You can start there." He paused for a second, and continued. "No. I've changed my mind, don't skip anything. Search the last twenty four hour period. If you find anything suspicious, report to me immediately." Natalie nodded.

"Do you think it was a real person?"

Jennifer's crying and shivering in terror suddenly flashed through William's mind. He couldn't help but wonder if she went home safe that night. "Seemed real enough." was all he could come up with an answer.

"And... Will you be seeing her again?" Natalie asked without a tone, but William knew her well enough to hear the smugness in that little question. He got up from the chair using his walking stick, and started to wander around the huge library slowly, getting farther each slow step.

"I must, if I am to protect her from the Good Samaritan, and if we want to learn more about the Sages."

"Eh, you don't seem to be complaining. Wish I was on a secret mission, hanging out with college ladies. All I get is hacking shit." She spoke to herself, giggling secretly. "William Aguillard, you lucky bastard."

William turned to his back, his gray eyes met hers. "What was that?"

"I'm asking how? With the good old circus magician role? That poor girl hung out with you one night and got chased by a creep, or a hallucination, whatever." She spoke loudly as William went farther away from where she was sitting.

 "I have a strong feeling that she'll visit again."

"Really? What makes you say that?" Natalie could see him next to the antique wooden shelves where they kept the old manuscripts, looking for something. What was this bookworming about all of a sudden? She watched him for a while, scanning the whole shelf with his finger in silent patience. Soon, he stopped and pulled what seemed to be a black old book and walked back next to Natalie.

"She has my jacket." He answered and regretted it the second words came out of his mouth. "And I have something that might interest her." He carefully placed the old book on the table.

"Sub Superficie Terrae? Dude, friendly advice, just get her some flowers. There's no way she's interested in this wormhole." She smoked for the last time as she tried to open the book's cover, but William stopped her, ignoring her comment.

"Careful with the ash."

She shrugged and made a wry face. "Okay, damn. Is this one of Izar's copies?" William silently nodded. "Does he know you're taking this to her?"

William put his index finger to his lips and made a shh sound as an answer.

"Let me know if I skipped anything - you met her, she showed you a memory of your mom and got chased by God knows what, now you're smuggling a valuable book from the Brotherhood library for her and she has your jacket? All that in one night?" She laughed ironically. "Why does she have your jacket?" She asked with a playful voice, then moved her eyebrows up and down.

"Literally, that's the only part that caught your attention?"

"I don't know honey, more like she's the only part that caught your attention."

"That's it. I'm done." William inhaled deeply, giving her a very annoyed stare.

"Hey relax, assassino, I'm just messing with you." She chuckled, but got no response from William - he would do that sometimes. "Hey. C'mon man, you know I'm just goofing around - "

"Natalya."

The voice calling that unfamiliar name almost hit her like a tornado, sending chills all over her spine, and possibly, William's too. Only one person would call her that. Her playful smile disappeared in the blink of an eye, turning her face no different from a stone, cold and empty. The one reason she wouldn't use that name. The accent echoed in Natalie's ears as she felt the anger burning her throat. She had made a mistake. Why did she linger around like a fool?

 William watched her as she went completely numb, now he felt bad for her even though she really annoyed him with her jokes. But that was the kind of person she was - you wouldn't know she was going through issues before she let her guard down and made jokes about them. Well, not until the problems came biting her back, at least. Just as they did now.

William stared at Irina Ivanova who stood at the enterance of the big library, looking a bit bashful - it was unusual for her to be so, since William's memories included her acting completely the opposite. Anyone who spent a little time around Irina would have the impression that her life hadn't been easy, and she had to make sacrifices to have one to call her own. William recalled one time Izar spoke to him about Irina years ago, after she grounded him for something he said to her. Her dream was to be a doctor, did you know? William couldn't remember what he said to him as an answer, but he could in fact, remember how deeply sorry he felt for acting the way he had. She could have a bright future as one, but she had to make a very hard decision. She would never speak of those hard decisions while she worked as a nurse in the Brotherhood, but William already knew she didn't have to.

"What do you want?" Natalie didn't turn to her back to face her mother, she stood frozen in her seat.

"I want to see you." Irina's low voice was shaking, as if she was trying to hold her tears. William felt like he needed to disappear and give them some space, but he was aware Natalie would personally raise hell if he tried to leave. "You didn't tell me you'd be here."

"And why would I tell you that?" She unexpectedly turned to her back and her eyes found Irina's, she noticed her light makeup around those wary, blue eyes. Her dark purple hair was the usual, cut short and brushed. She must had been working until now, she still had that white nurse uniform on her. "When did you listen to anything I have to say? Did you suddenly start caring about me after one of your adopted sons turned out to be a reincarnating person?"

"Natalie..." William intervened.

"Or after your other adopted son disappeared when he was falsely accused? Your adopted sons who you love." Her voice was filled with anger, but she was so cold and empty saying all that to her. William hated hearing them, but he knew what she meant deeply. Your adopted sons, who you love more than your own children.

"I came here for you." Irina replied, but her voice was getting weaker each time. "I wanted to see you. How could I not care?"

"Oh please, cut me some slack." Natalie smiled ironically.

 "There is something I want to talk to you about. Please, listen." Now she sounded desperate, almost as if she wanted to grab her and force her to listen.

"Fine. Fire away and be done with it, I have so much to do."

"Alone." Her blue eyes focused on William for a second.

Natalie couldn't believe she was asking William to leave the Headquarters, when she was the one to interrupt their conversation in the first place. It's just one of those things she does, she thought to herself, walking around and demanding respect from everyone. Or maybe, anything her mother did was bothering her at this point, which brought her mind another question. What did she want to talk about? Could it be an apology? After all those years, could she finally realize how badly she had been treating her only daughter? The possiblity made her stomach hurt, but beneath all that, it was a relief to imagine a world where she didn't have to ignore her mother.

 The Good Samaritan suddenly filled her thoughts, and that creepy message they left when she hacked the Templar data. When you finally meet me, you will beg for the death I offer you both. How could they know Natalie would be in the Templar systems? What else did they know, now that the Jennifer Hope girl was possibly in danger too? All she could think was the fact that she was done with the secrets, and if her mother had anything to say, Natalie would like to hear it from her, not from a computer freak.

She stood up and gave a little nod to William, but he quickly held her arm. "Natalie, wait."

She stared at him blankly, he seemed like he had been trying to warn her, or ask for something but he couldn't. It didn't take her for her to realize he wanted this whole Good Samaritan thing to stay classified. Natalie's eyes found her mother's, and she didn't hesitate. "Could you give us some privacy, please? We were working on something before you got here."

"Aren't you coming with me?" She asked, with a childish jealousy in her voice.

Natalie sighed. "Wait for me outside."

William waited until Irina left the room, but deep inside, his heart was broken over the way Natalie was treating her. He hoped Irina knew that it was not personal, but for the safety of them all. And it hurt more to know that he would never treat his own mother like that, had she been alive. It always hurt to think about her, and the painful memories distracted William for a second.

"Please make it quick, I don't want her to start crying on me." Natalie's voice brought back William from the memories of his late mother.

"There is one other, really important thing. But promise me, that it stays between us."

"You got it."

"I mean it when I say it needs to stay hidden, Natalie." The rest wasn't easy to explain, but he tried. "I want you to hack us."

Natalie seemed like she just heard a cat speak. "Okay..." She paused. "I'm just going to act like I don't have a million questions."

"I know." He inhaled. "I want you to dive in to our archives, see if anything looks suspicious."

"You know, Assassin archives go all the way back to ancient Egypt," She shook her head. "We had a weird habit of recording every single thing. Say I managed to dig everything, find every suspicious situation ever to be recorded... it would take my lifetime. What the hell am I looking for?"

 William knew he had to share some classified information, though he felt reluctant to do so. "I want you to look for an Assassin - Templar ceasefire, or if that ever happened lately. Maybe start from the 60's, I don't know. The data could be dismissed, but you know your way around the system. The reason it needs to stay hidden is because I suppose even the people we think we trust could be hiding the truth about it." He quickly explained. "Had there been a unity between us and them, I would like to know our role."

Natalie seemed even more shocked, all she could do was to nod. A ceasefire between the Assassins and the Templars? What kind of evil would it take to cause that? She nodded again, deep in thought, and left the room with quick steps. All William had to do was to trust her for now.

 He didn't realize how late it had been, he could only manage to look at the clock when the deep silence started to bother him after Natalie left. 00:45. That old clock was a gift from the Haitian Brotherhood.

 He sat down as his thoughts lingered around his mother again, and he grabbed a small photo from his pocket. There she was, the one and only Félicité Aguillard. He looked at her brown eyes in the photo, forever staring at him with so much love as she held him, a two year old. Her woolly hair that she wore natural, but eventually got back to the traditional braids after years. And that flawless, dark brown skin. Even though the photo was quite old, he could still see the details, her freckles and the dimple she had when she smiled. Or maybe he was just imagining them.

So why did she lie about who she was? She was Félicité de Grandpré, an Assassin of the New Orleans Brotherhood, so why hide a bloodline that was so tied to it? Why did she have to hide for? And what "unique position" caused her to keep her identity hidden? William knew, in his guts, that Izar knew more than he told him. He hoped for Natalie to find something, but still, it was the smallest possibility - had Izar been a part of the ceasefire, he would absolutely make sure it stood hidden forever. He was a better engineer than anyone in the Brotherhood.

He started thinking about Jennifer, the photo of his mother still in his hand, and how terrified she must had been. He didn't understand why he felt so uncomfortable when he was thinking about her - it was probably a result of everyone making jokes, implying that he was dating her, or whatever. But there he was, thinking of ways to make her come back, hoping she could relate to him, an Assassin who lied about being a circus magician – the last person to deserve her attention in the whole damn world.

What was it he said to her? The one that she told she wouldn't believe for a second? I'm just a simple circus magician with a few cheesy card tricks. Of course she wouldn't buy it, she was much more clever. Suddenly, just for a second, he could understand her mother for hiding her identity. There you go, with your own unique position.

"Late night, huh?" He suddenly heard a woman's voice, but couldn't recognise its owner instantly. He slipped away from his thoughts, only to see Amelia walking to him slowly. He couldn't come up with an answer, all he wanted was to not have this conversation right now. "Can't sleep?"

He paused for a second. "Yeah." He said, avoiding to make eye contact as he recalled her touching his shoulder briefly back when he became a Master Assassin. God, he felt terrible.

 Amelia took a seat right next to William, shaking her long, red hair. Then, she saw the photo in his hand. "What's that?" The photo disappeared with William's one finger move, resulting with her pure shock. "Sometimes I forget you're a magician."

William forced himself to smile, but it was a failure. All those nights he spent with her, he still had no idea why he couldn't even have the simplest conversation with her - for the first time, it disgusted him to accept the fact that he didn't know Amelia at all. Though they wouldn't spend much time talking, anyway. Why did he do it? And most importantly, why didn't these one night stands bother him until now?

"You seem... different." Amelia reached out and started running her finger on his cheek. "Is there something troubling you?" She said, with a very soft voice.

It was a bit pathetic, really. But he just couldn't blame the poor girl. "Isn't there anything troubling you? " He spoke suddenly, surprising himself. "With the Good Samaritan and the Templars on our back."

"Oh, I'm not worried about that." She explained, as she started touching his lips. "It could be different this time but I'm sure we'll figure out a way to get rid of them eventually."

"I guess that's one way of looking at things." He pushed himself away slowly, trying to avoid her touch. "Amelia, I'm just really tired and - "

"I can see that." She got herself closer to his lips, and spoke slowly. "Maybe you need a little rest?" Without hesitation, she put his lips on William's. He didn't kiss her back and simply waited until she was done. "What's wrong?" She quickly gathered herself and spoke with a fierce tone. "Don't you want me? You used to."

That was what bothered William, the fact that he used to. "I just..." He mumbled. "I told you... I'm very tired."

"Well." She rolled her eyes, pissed off. "I wish I said that when you came knocking on my door."

William sighed. What the hell was wrong with him? What confused him, Jennifer? A girl he just met not a few days ago? Why couldn't he just get her out of his head? It was starting to be embarrasing. "You're right."

"What?"

He was a Master Assassin, there could be no friendships out of the Brotherhood, but only temporary alliences. And Jennifer Hope was no ally of his. Only a part of the mission he was given, nothing more. Her father was a Templar, whether she was aware or not, a part of the Order that killed his mother and destroyed his family. No. It was a mistake to look for a connection between himself and her, and he needed to clear his head. "You're right." Was he talking to Amelia, or the voice inside his head?

Without thinking too much, he pushed his lips on Amelia's, kissing her hard. She seemed satisfied as he kissed her neck, then pulled himself to take her to his room.

Though, it was quite unfortunate that he still thought about Jennifer's smile after everything was done.

Chapter Text

 Istá. The word kept playing in Connor's mind like a broken record player. Mother.

 He found himself reminiscing that glimpse of a memory every once in a while - it had been happening more frequently, since he mentioned it to William. Eventually, the faces would come back. The faces of those terrified people, trying to save their loved ones from the hell fire. Faces of children, dead or barely alive. The face of his mother covered in blood, who got stuck in the ruins of a wooden house. Being unable to save her.

 Connor could feel his eyelids getting heavier as he stood still in his bed, but the vision was vivid, still. Once again, he found himself asking the only question that devoured him - what kind of human being would do that to innocent people? He felt the rage, pure and undeniable, as it suddenly urged him to hunt down whoever was responsible of the slaughter. He craved revenge only for a second, as if that was the sole purpose of his life. Yet, all he did was to take a deep breath and count to ten, until he could no longer feel anything - a habit from his childhood that Irina taught him.

 Despite what people usually assumed when they gave someone like him, a huge, brown skinned man, one simple look, Connor had no anger issues or a violent attitude - that side of him only revealed itself when he was badly provoked, like everyone else. On the contrary, he had always been, and still was, very shy and introverted. Though, he was aware of the fact that he could get a little protective over the ones he loved. He must had been around fifteen when it occured to him that his skin color was not perceived the same in the outside world as it did in the Brotherhood, which was a safe sanctuary filled with educated people – Connor still couldn't believe how naive he was to think that safe sanctuary would protect him for his whole life. 

 He could remember that hot day in August. It had taken him so long to figure out. William had opened his eyes long time ago. Why had he not?

 Izar had tasked him to gather some mechanic supplies he required for another prototype of a walking stick he designed for William - back when he was fresh out of the wheelchair, still limping. Connor would always help William with anything, from climbing the stairs to taking a bath - which eventually broke the young man's confidence as he got older. I hate that I'm such a burden to you, William would say, Connor could remember how stubborn he was about it, but never complained. There I am, he remembered William's own words, an eighteen year old big baby, trying to learn how to walk from the start.

Though he had explained the process countless times, neither of them could really understand how Izar's invention actually worked - a thin, needle-like walking stick with two pieces attached to the legs. He'd told them a Piece of Eden called The Staff of Hermes gave him the idea, and had claimed he could possibly recreate the outcome. Connor had heard about the Staff countless times, one of the powerful relics invented by the First Civilization with a magical healing power, but eventually got tired of it since it was the one thing Izar was obsessed with. And the truth was, none of his prototypes had worked properly up to that point, poor William was in endless pain all the time.

It really hurt to see him like that, he thought to himself, even the wheelchair didn't cause him this much trouble. At least he was safe, sitting instead of bleeding after a fall every other day. He could now realize the true reason that poor boy kept trying so hard, choosing the painful over the comfortable. That wheelchair was the very symbol of the person who caused him to be paralyzed, who he had been dying to forget.

 Connor had told Izar he'd volunteer to find the original Staff if it would put an end to his brother's pain, but Izar's only response was a brief chuckle. Connor remembered it like yesterday.

"My brave boy, bless your heart." Izar stared at Connor for a while, with a mixture of pride and longing in his eyes. "This world needs more of your pureness."

 Connor was disappointed Izar wasn't taking him seriously. "Why can't you just tell me where it is? We should bring it to him before he's in more pain."

"How about this," He grabbed a paper and handed it to Connor. "There is a way you can still be helpful. Go to this address, and a woman named Elara May will greet you, one of the brightest engineers I've seen in my life, that lady. Just tell her 'I.G. Knox' and she'll know she can trust you. Elara has a special package for me, which contains some supplies that can help with William's new prototype."

"What if this one doesn't work again?" He sighed. "Aren't you afraid he's never going to be able to walk? He could even get worse."

"I am, I think about that possibility endlessly." Izar confessed. "That's why I must keep trying, for my loved ones. You should do the same, too. Family first, and always."

 At that time, he wanted to ask if those prototypes brought more harm than good to William, but he couldn't. William needed hope to keep trying, that one day this whole crazy experiment would work and he could walk again, and for some unknown reason Izar depended on it, too. Connor simply knew it was too complicated to question. "Yes, sir."

Just as he was leaving, he heard William's limping steps, the new prototype was somehow unbalanced and created a rhythmic tapping sound when he tried to walk. "Going alone?"

Connor acted like he didn't know what William was talking about. "I was just about to take a walk. Go cycling, maybe." He knew William never joined him whenever he said that.

"Come on Connor... Spit it out." William smiled playfully and rolled his eyes. "I know he's asked you to grab some supplies, he's not happy with the outcome."

Connor sighed. He didn't even want to question how William knew about all this, Izar would keep silent about the negative outcomes to not upset him - but William had a habit, if not a talent of gathering information whenever he needed. "I don't know what to say. Yes, the prototype seems to have issues, but he was sure he could handle."

"Well, let's get going, then. We don't want the mad scientist to... you know, go mad." He seemed quite calm about the whole thing.

"You should stay and rest. I'll go." Connor insisted, but he knew it was no use. "Aren't you afraid your body could get worse?"

"Connor, walking takes a lot of practice. Let me." He sounded desperate, so Connor didn't say a word. William didn't need permission, anyway.

 They took the bus to town from the only bus stop near the historic Brotherhood mansion, the Gray House, an old, gothic private building which had been a property of the Brotherhood since forever. Connor loved how the mansion was far away from the loud city, he felt he was truly home whenever he took long walks in the woods, or cycled around to clear his head.

 Their ride to London took an hour as usual, but the real challenge was making it to the address - which showed an old hardware store.

 They went inside, but the store seemed suspiciously empty, they spent a few minutes just staring at bunch of stuff, work gloves, hammers, screws and nails were all over the place. "Hello?" William sighed. "Do you think we got the right place?" Connor shrugged.

Just a few seconds later, a loud noise was heard, and two boys appeared from the door in the back, which was probably a warehouse. "Who are you guys?" asked one of them, he seemed older than both Connor and William.

Connor could tell something was not right, from the way this tall, pale guy spoke. Something was hostile about the way he was acting.

"Good day." William approached, but his limping was worse, and gave away how tired he was. "We were just looking for an address- "

"You got the wrong one, cripple." The other guy spoke with an unserious tone, Connor could see his rotten teeth when he smirked. It was the ugliest thing he had ever seen. "Leave this place and take that savage with you. We're not open."

 William let out an ironic smile. "I wasn't done talking." Something was up with him as well, he stood like he didn't want to show the pain he was in.

"It don't matter." The other one spoke, as he walked closer to William slowly.

"We're simply looking for an address. Why the tension if you have nothing to hide?"

The guy was really close to William, Connor realized there was a toothpick between his lips. Too close for comfort. His heart raced.

"Can't walk, can't read, eh, cripple? We're closed. Ain't nobody come to my place this time of the day. No cripples. No savages." He put his hand to William's shoulder and patted, Connor saw his arm, full of tattoos. He turned to him, catching his angry stare, and spoke. "Now, get the fuck up and get the fuck out before I break the rest of your body."

Savage. A flutter of unease rushed through Connor, that was the first time he had heard that word referring to himself, but somehow, it didn't feel unfamiliar. The anger was boiling his blood, causing him to squeeze his fists, and the possibility of this gross man hurting William scared him.

"Let me make myself clear," William kept smirking, Connor couldn't tell if he was afraid or not. Maybe he was hiding it well. "Honestly, I don't give a fuck about the shady business you've got going in here." The smile on his lips widened. "What is it that you guys are up to? Drugs? Laundering money?" He laughed. Why was he provoking this horrible man? 

 The second he laughed, the guy put his hand on his neck, grabbing him tightly. William let out a moan as he spoke. "Where is Elara May? What did you do to her?" Connor tried to run to him, but the guy next to him had already grabbed a huge hammer and stood right there, in case he tried anything.

 The other one pushed William to the shelves with some painting brushes on them, and an unpleasant crashing sound was heard, brushes hitting the ground.

 William's smirk was still there, but it seemed he was having trouble breathing. Connor couldn't believe the things that came out of his mouth. "You... white... trash... you... inbreed... motherfucker-"  His voice was getting weak, Connor felt like he had to do something immediately.

"You will die here for saying that." He spoke, slowly. "And the savage. And that bitch, too. You hear that, Elara?" He turned to his back, talking to someone who was not in the store. Connor remembered the crashing sound he heard when they came in the store. She must had been inside the room they came out of. Suddenly, a woman's painful sigh filled his ears. "You hear? That useless Brotherhood of yours has sent two children to save your ass."

He didn't even had the chance to look back at William when a hidden blade, emerging from William's left arm, cut his throat. Connor watched him in fear, the blood coming from the cut was choking the man. "Two children to send you to your cold grave." William corrected, as the guy fell on the ground.

The other man standing in front of him with the hammer seemed to be in shock. "Boss! Brian!" He shouted, but it was no use. "You little shit!" He started walking towards William with fast steps, ready to crack his skull. In no time, Connor grabbed a hammer from one of the shelves and threw it with all the power he had in him, even though he had such little time to aim. His sight became dark for a second, and he heard a painful shout from the man. There he was, on the ground, hammer covered with his blood.

William was holding his throat when Connor approached to him in panic. "Are you okay?" He quickly nodded.

"You had a hidden blade?"

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

William stood still, coughing. "We'll talk later. Let's save Elara first."

Connor thought about that incident, even years after it had happened. Knowing William for years now, he could see some details he didn't back then, like the way he kept provoking his target to bait him, until his anger led him to his death. It was just one of his many tricks, he'd allow his opponents to think they were winning, then hit them when they least expected it.

A savage. Was that what people assumed Connor Kenway to be? Not a person or a man, not an animal, something below and worse than all of that, all because he was a Native? Connor felt dizzy, thinking about the true owner of his life. He could never tell what belonged to the Kenway family, and what belonged to him as a real person. After all, he had been dead for centuries, hadn't he? How could a dead person take such a big part in his life?

The phone rang. Connor slipped away from his thoughts, and stood up in his bed. His hands found the switch of the night lamp that stood on the table, and turned it on. The light suddenly hurt his eyes as he picked up the call. "Hello?"

Izar's voice filled his ears. "Hey there. Hope you weren't sleeping. Sorry if I woke you up." He didn't wait to hear Connor's reply. "Can you come downstairs for a second? There's something important."

"I'm on my way." He murmured, after a small pause, then hung up the phone. Nothing good came out of these late night phone calls, and deep inside Connor knew something was up, but he couldn't find it in him to worry about what might have been.

He stood up and grabbed a shirt from the closet, and took his time putting it on. His movements were slower than the usual, and his mind was a mess. Istá. That was his voice, but it felt like a stranger's. Connor Kenway, he kept repeating the name like a prayer. Who was he, truly? Was he a part of him, or the exact same person? What about his family? He had a hole in his heart, one that had been there his entire life yet he constantly ignored. Now that he saw his people, and his real mother whom he couldn't save, Connor knew sorrow like never before.

With slow steps, he arrived at the stairs from the big hall, and walked to the elevator. The doors opened and he got inside as he pushed to button, -6.

Just as the doors were about to close, William's hasty voice filled his ears. "Hold up!" Connor didn't see him at first, but managed to hold the door with his hand.

There he was, running. "Many thanks sir, many thanks." He joked as he got inside, imitating a British accent.

Connor suddenly couldn't help but let out a small laugh, even though he was still thinking about the memory of his mother. He stared at him - William certainly seemed different than the usual. "Where have you been? I haven't seen you all day."

William tried to hide his grin, but couldn't. Instead, he rolled gray his eyes with a playful attitude, and pushed his lips together. Finally, his eyes found Connor's. "Oh, you know. Here and there."

Connor stared at him from head to toe, he had dressed... somehow classier than the usual, and had an unfamiliarly weird smile going on. He'd picked his brown walking stick for the day, which matched his brown jacket, but also, he carried a gray one in his hand. "New style?"

"What, you jealous?" He winked, as Connor chuckled. "I gotta look fancy now, that's what Master Assassins do, right?"

"You seem oddly cheerful today, Will." Connor answered, as his smile faded away. "One of us is happy, at least."

"Connor..." William had that genuine tone in his voice again, one that appeared whenever he felt like he had to be the older brother to Connor. "You'll get through this. We'll soon find out more about your past. I promise." William could tell that wasn't what Connor needed to hear. "Whatever happens, I'm always here, rooting for you, you know that."

Connor nodded, as the elevator stopped and the doors opened. They both walked out to the corridor. "Do you know why we're here so late?"

"Not really, no." William admitted, as they found their way to the big library of the Headquarters. William held the wooden door and let Connor in.

Natalie and Izar seemed to be discussing something when William and Connor interrupted them - Connor saw Natalie was on her computer, and he couldn't help but notice she seemed worried.

"There you both are." Izar said, with a relieved tone. "I didn't know you go to bed earlier nowadays, Connor."

"Yeah, you two would usually hang out on the rooftops this time of the day." Natalie raised one eyebrow. "What's up, you guys have a beef or something?"

"Oh, the usual..." William answered facetiously. "Connor's just jealous, now that I have a brand new Master Assassin style."

"That, and trust issues. I have a feeling that William has been keeping some secrets lately." Connor didn't hesitate to make a comeback. They stared at each other, trying to hold their laughter.

"Of course he would, that man has a lot going on nowadays. Look at him, can't even hide his smile. Why do you think?" Natalie asked Connor, in a sarcastic way.

"To be honest, I've been asking the same question." Connor heaved a sigh.

William shrugged as his eyebrows rose. "What, am I not allowed to be happy?"

"Who says you aren't? Speaking of, how was your date, Houdini?" Natalie grinned, as if she just scored a goal. William's sudden scowl was what made everyone giggle.

"You were on a date?" Connor asked, as William's eyes grew larger, showing how cringed he was. Now he could tell why he was all chic and smiley on the elevator.

"Oh, so that's what it's about?" Izar shook his head both sides. "That explains why a certain book in my library suddenly went missing."

"Oh please give me a break, you have like five more copies of that old book. You probably memorized every single word by now. Plus, I didn't even take the original one." He defended himself, which made everyone chuckle. Connor could see him blush, which was surprising. "And it's not a date. I'm just doing my job."

"You could just ask, I would say yes. Just because you're a Master Assassin now, doesn't mean you get to steal my books." Izar replied, like a father advicing his son, and gave him a look over his glasses while he tried not to burst out laughing. "Even for you, that's rude."

"Listen to him, William, this man's been a Master Assassin his entire life." Natalie backed Izar up. "You've been one like... what? A week?"

"Duly noted." William rolled his eyes.

"As much as I love and miss to spar with you three, Natalie and I have some important news." Izar waved his hand and pointed at Natalie's computer, as they all gathered around the table. Connor realized there was a paused video on the screen, the view of a street at night. The place suddenly seemed familiar.

"What's this?" He asked, realizing William unexpectedly went silent. "Is this about that night?" He remembered about the Sage, Jennifer Hope, and the alleged chase that William talked about earlier.

"It is." Natalie replied with a serious attitude, and turned to William who was completely numb, waiting for an answer. Then the words started to fall out of her mouth. "Turns out, she was telling the truth, William."

Only Connor knew him well enough to notice the brief expression of anger that appeared on his face, others probably thought he was just really worried. He pressed his lips together, and shook his head. "No hallucinations, no bleeding effect then?"

Natalie confirmed by slowly nodding her head. Connor couldn't be sure, but it felt like those two were speaking without using words. "The footage from the surveillance cameras..." She started, but hesitated to continue, then took a deep breath. "It might shock you, as it shocked us. It's... unpleasant."

"Show us." William's voice was cold as ice.

 Natalie clicked on the video, and time started running.

 The street seemed usual at first, with some people walking and smoking casually. "The footage is not from Cirque Hypnosia's security cameras." Natalie explained. "I had a few angles to check, this one was the clearest of them all. Just watch."

 Connor did what she told, yet all he saw was a group of women talking with drinks and cigarettes on their hands, and some drunk guys giggling. They waited for a few minutes, then Natalie showed a dark, small figure, walking really fast. "This is Jennifer." She pointed.

 Connor briefly saw her, and prepared himself to see what comes next. He could sense William starting to hold his breath when he saw her.

The small figure stopped for a second, and turned to her back. She was looking at something back on the dark side of the street, and stood there almost for a minute, completely frozen. Then, with uncertain steps, she approached to the drunk guys, Connor saw one of them talking as Jennifer Hope distanced herself from them, but it was hardly visible.

Then, the shadow moved. Whoever it was, he was really fast, much faster than Jennifer herself. The moment she noticed the shadow move, Jennifer Hope started running right away. Connor held his breath, even though he knew that she would be safe eventually, it was disgustingly creepy to watch a young woman being so helpless. Now they could see her face, basically full of terror, as she got closer to the group of women.

The shadow got closer to the camera as well as William and Connor moved near to the computer to get a closer look. "Guys, don't - " Natalie tried to warn, but got interrupted.

Just as they briefly saw a creepy mask, it unnaturally zoomed in and covered the whole screen - and an altered, robotic laugh filled everyone's ears.

Connor let out a shocked sigh, he was definitely not expecting a jumpscare. He heard William cursing. "What the hell?" He whispered to himself.

 The whole screen was covered with masks, probably hundreds of them were laughing at the same time, their robotic voices changing from too high, to too low.

"Don't say I didn't warn you." Natalie was clearly really uncomfortable looking at the screen. "Motherfucker hacked this before us, and replaced it with a montage just to fuck with our minds. Imagine my shock when I first discovered this. Shat myself, basically. Keep watching."

The gross laughing eventually slowed down, but didn't stop, instead a bigger mask appeared on the screen, talking with the same altered voice. Also, a subtitle was added.

"Greetings, Assassins!

 We're sure you're curious about what comes next! Good news is, that is entirely up to you! For we are so many, and we are everywhere.

Be our guest at Swain's Ln. N6 6PJ, tomorrow at midnight!

We shall meet again!

Your friend and foe,

The Good Samaritan."

The footage ended with an image of two hands, holding each other. Everyone stood silent, no one had the desire to make a comment. Everyone was either shocked, or trying to process how big the whole situation actually was. For Connor, it was both.

"What is this address?" William asked finally, to break the silence. He went completely numb watching the message The Good Samaritan left for them, thinking. "Where are they inviting us?"

"Highgate Cemetery." Izar revealed, with a subtle tone.

 Silence, once again.

"We all agree that this is a trap, right?" Connor sighed after he talked. "It would be foolish to go there."

 "Good news is, it's entirely up to you." Natalie quoted. "They're warning us about what happens if we don't."

 "More like threatening us." William corrected. "They followed Jennifer, now they're leaving the rest for us to decide. What happens to her will be based on what we do."

 "So we walk into a trap?" Connor opposed. "William, they could be bluffing. They could've hurt her when they had the chance, but they didn't. This whole thing is meant to scare us, nothing more." He tried to convince everyone, not just William. "If we fall for it, then we give them what they want. We should protect our family at all costs."

"We also have Jennifer Hope to protect." Natalie was clearly having a hard time making decisions.

"That doesn't mean we should put each other in danger."

 "You're wrong." William intervened. Connor stared at him, waiting for him to explain how. "It's no bluff. I should've known..."

 "Known what?" Izar asked him.

"Don't you see?" He turned to Izar, with a desperate face. "The Templars' private message that Natalie hacked, about Jennifer Hope. Remember what The Good Samaritan said about that? About providing us information?"

 Natalie remembered every single word of it. "The information I'm providing you is quite valuable." She quoted the message that appeared on her computer when she hacked Abstergo's private messages.

 "They harass Jennifer, and now, give us the footage with a message. The Good Samaritan only gives, so that they can take much more from us while we focus on the bait. The exact same way an illusionist works with the card tricks." He stood silent. "At least, that's what I would do."

 Connor's memories of him baiting that man in the hardware store with swear words crowded into his mind. "Now that we know, it would be certain suicide to go there."

 "On the other hand," Izar subtly interrupted them. "Sometimes, the only way to fix an error in the algorithm is to do the exact thing that triggers it."

 "It allows you to trick it, and then you have the control to figure out what's not properly working." Natalie, being the computer genius she was, completed Izar's sentence. "So we play along?"

"Not without precautions." Izar explained. "We'll need a well-made plan."

Connor didn't like the sound of that, not one bit. "I guess we finally get to meet our foe."

Chapter Text

Earlier that day 

Four days had passed since the events of the crazy night Jennifer Hope had been through, yet the answer to the question whether anything had happened or not after remained the same, and simple. Nothing. 

Of course, things had happened - life kept flowing like the sand in an hourglass, with its usual worries, scheduals, paperworks and lectures, perhaps the correct answer would be nothing chilling or delirious had happened after the events of Cirque Hypnosia.  

Jennifer knew she should've been relieved it was all over. After all, even the creepy hallucinations were just... gone. Nothing but silence for four days. Just like the good old days, if she could even remember what being normal felt like. Yet, all she felt was the huge weight of skepticism on her shoulders, getting heavier each day as no hallucinations showed up. Her head was completely empty - she kept writing the thesis, turning in her paperworks, and occasionally hanging out with Sophia during lunch breaks - no sign of fear or anxiety about the man who chased her in the dark, or the cruel tricks her mind had been playing on her. Perhaps it was all just a bizzare dream. Or a nightmare that finally had come to an end. Sometimes she couldn't tell the difference between. 

Thinking about that chase and the horrifying shadow-like figure triggered a chain reaction which always ended up bringing William's jacket to her mind. The dark gray fabric with the slight scent of men's cologne. Maybe her mind wasn't entirely empty. It stayed in her wardrobe since that day, as a reminder of Jennifer's habit of delaying important things. She could never forget the moment it occured to her that she forgot it on her, all too late to tell the taxi driver to turn back. From time to time, the fact that she had to return it to him eventually would creep around her mind - and in order to do that, she had to go back to Cirque Hypnosia, where the worst night of her entire life took place. 

She could still ask Sophia to return it to him. Yet she knew herself well enough to tell she would not do that. Sophia was a wonderful friend, but Jennifer was aware that Sophia would probably get the wrong idea if she popped up with a guy's jacket in her hand. There would be some explaining to do, which William had saved her from in the blink of an eye while she was still completely clueless about what to say to Sophia. It was bad enough already that Jennifer hadn't told her about the maniac who chased her in the street, and being the terrible liar herself, nothing would stop her from explaining the hallucinations once Sophia asked her the reason she didn't tell her that night in the first place. And somehow, a circus magician she just met had figured it out just in time to save her ass from the reckoning. No, she had to do this by herself. She had a lot to thank him for, now with the healthy state of mind. She found herself thinking about why Sophia hadn't noticed the fact that Jennifer was wearing someone else's jacket, but it was just an another question about that night she could never get the right answer to. 

She tried her best to focus, but kept reading the same sentence over and over again in her book, Samarkand, which she did not understand a word of. When the time of upheavals arrived, no one could stop its course, no one could flee it but some managed to use it. Hasan Sabbah, more than anyone, knew how to tame the ferocity of the world. He sowed fear all around him in order to make a tiny piece of calm for himself in his redoubt of Alamut.

The dim light of the night lamp was hurting her eyes, and the silence made her ears ring as she closed the book's cover. She thought about her father, and felt the undeniable guilt growing around her chest, the poor man sleeping next room had no idea his beloved daughter was running for her life just a few days ago. What would he do if he found out? Somehow, Jennifer felt terrified as she imagined his reaction. Not because he was a strict parent, or a man to be feared, yet Jennifer couldn't figure out why she avoided talking about it with him. It was the oddest thing, that none of the people who she thought were the closest to her knew about what happened, but a stranger did - a stranger with a few cheesy card tricks. 

It was truly exhausting to think about everything. Something inside her kept telling her to let go of all that, buy a plane ticket and visit her mother in the Mediterranean - she had that thought ever since she was accepted to her master's degree, except, now louder than ever. She put her head gently on her pillow, pulling the blanket as her eyes got heavier. A few vivid moments crowded into her mind just before she fell asleep - the pigeons appearing out of nowhere in Charlie's hands, Sophia's little dance moves, Maya's eccentric catsuit and... William speaking French with her, talking about God knows what. 

She woke up later than ever, and quickly realized it was the fifth morning she woke up to being normal, without the nightmares or an angelic figure with a creepy voice calling her a cipher. What did that word mean, anyway? She yawned as she checked the clock, 10.48. Her dad had already gone to work, and the lecture in school didn't start until afternoon, so she had the whole morning for herself. 

Moving slowly, she took her time washing her face and headed straight to the kitchen. It was a surprise to see the toast with some orange jam standing on the table, not to mention the cheddar cheese and strawberries cut in half. Next to it stood a note, Jennifer grabbed it with a smiling face. You seem really tired lately, and nothing cheers you like some orange jam from the Mediterranean. You're doing great, sweetheart. - pops. 

She sighed, a relief took over her body as she kept staring at the breakfast plate her father had prepared for her, feeling a bitter happiness. It was the moments like this that she would realize nothing mattered more than the people she truly loved, and their subtleties that showed how much they cared. Sophia would take her out to the most peculiar magic show, her dad would prepare breakfast with her favorite orange jam. Had she been in the Mediterranean, her mother would probably offer to spend their day sunbathing, and swimming in the blue waters. 

 Suddenly, the ugly truth hit her and washed the happiness away like waves crashing the shore. Was that how desperate she seemed from outside? So desperate that people couldn't help but pity her? She grabbed her phone and texted a brief thank you message to her dad, but the thought of being seen as desperate was still in her mind. She chewed the toast and tried to consider everything, was it that obvious that she was so helpless? Did everyone know?  

The stranger with the cheesy card tricks could tell. She recalled those words, I know we've just met, but I have no doubt you will achieve great things in your life. Something about the way he spoke felt like he was genuine - and perhaps it wasn't that bad, the way Jennifer was perceived. Just a girl, who is a little stressed out, that's all. But none of it sounded convincing enough. Get yourself together, she thought, stop with the wounded animal mentality. Face it, and be done with it.

 And just like that, she decided to return the jacket to its owner. She grabbed it from her wardrobe, almost hurtling, as if she was committing a sin and everyone was watching her - but she didn't care. She needed this craziness to be over, and she was ready to leave all of it behind. Without a second thought, she stuffed it to her bag, and closed the zipper without looking back at it. 

 The whole day she had that odd feeling in her stomach, and though it was difficult to ignore, she tried her best to pay attention to the lectures. It felt like a weird type of stage fright, like the one Jennifer would always get if she had to make a presentation and everybody was staring at her, listening to what she had to say. But there was, in fact, more to it than some simple social anxiety - the actual fear. The fear of being stalked, or the possibility of being killed by someone. The fear that spiked one's senses to do the only thing to survive - run. She suddenly felt like the whole class was spinning and there was no air to breathe, as if she could suffocate. The memory of those sounds that came out of her mouth after the chase crowded into her head like an uninvited guest. Was it real or not? What if she imagined the whole thing? You can't escape, cipher. She had to escape, she had to stop the nonsense. Do you remember him? You have already met. You remember. No, no, no... Jennifer didn't remember. She didn't want to go crazy, she... 

 "Jen?" Sophia's soft voice filled her ears and Jennifer felt like she woke up from a distant dream. "What are you still doing in here?" 

 Still. Jennifer turned her head around the classroom only to see that it was all empty, she had no idea about how long she had stayed there after the class was dismissed. "I was..." She tried to speak, but couldn't find the right words. 

 "Are you alright?" Sophia approached, sitting next to Jennifer in the empty classroom. Her voice sounded concerned, she didn't even try to hide it like she did before anymore.

 "Yeah... I am, I'm okay." Relax, stop freaking yourself out, she took a deep breath as she tried to calm herself down. Yet still, Jennifer didn't know what else to say, suddenly her mind went entirely empty. "I must have zoned out, or something." 

 "Jen, I'm worried for you." Sophia's hand gently reached for Jennifer's arm, as if she wanted to grab her and bring her back to the real world from that distant dream Jennifer kept drowning into. "I remember when I was like this, and what happened after that. I'm worried you might be going through the same thing without anybody noticing." 

 Jennifer could remember those days, and the bully friends of her ex-boyfriend. What a pain in the ass, those guys were. Sometimes the memories of Sophia's anorexia days would come back to her, and Jennifer would want to kick those guys where it hurted the most for leaking some of Sophia's private pictures. They hadn't been friends back then at all, but Jennifer had noticed how the brightest star of the class was suddenly not shining anymore - the people around her gave her meaningful, disdain stares as she kept getting lonelier and sadder each day. It wasn't much different from watching a beautiful flower go dry and colorless. But that wasn't the only thing that made Jennifer approach her, it was the fact that the lonelier she got as days passed, the more one could count her bones. 

 She had approached Sophia the same way back then, as Sophia did to her now, kindly touching her arm. With a shy voice Jennifer had spoken to the girl, who looked as if she was a fallen angel, or a butterfly with broken wings, too weak to pay attention to anything. "Hey, I know that we're not really friends, but if you need absolutely anything, I'm here for you." 

 She could see the tears appearing in Sophia's big, blue eyes. "Whoever you are, I don't need your pity." Her voice cracked as she turned away to hide her tears, but Jennifer realized the people around her were staring at them. 

 "No pitying, trust me. It just pisses me off that a couple of halfwits think they can destroy a woman's life so easily, and get away with it. I can't imagine how angry you are." Then she grabbed her notebook quickly, and tore a small piece of paper. 

 "You have no idea." Sophia said, but still avoided making eye contact. "But I don't expect anyone to understand what I'm going through." 

 Jennifer pushed the piece of paper with her phone number on it to her. Sophia's long, bony fingers which seemed like they could break into pieces any second, reached out for the paper and grabbed with an elusive hunger - flamed by the anger she felt inside of her. "Just in case you change your mind." 

 And she had. 

 Jennifer got the phone call really late that night, which surprised her, considering Sophia's distrust earlier. It started out as a really awkward conversation at first, none of them knew what to say to each other, but somehow, they found comfort in each other's presence as they kept speaking - a familiar, comforting feeling of a stranger, ready to listen. It was astonishing to find out how much they had in common, and soon enough, laughters and jokes were filling ears - Jennifer's dad even had to warn her to be more quiet. 

 After that, Sophia's treatment was a long journey, one that had its ups and downs, but their bond kept growing strong each day - this time woven tight with trust. It even got stronger when Jennifer 'casually' found herself the dean's office to expose what Sophia had been through and who caused it - hearing that sort of scandal from a student at the top of her class, of course, dean probably felt forced to act as soon as possible. Disciplinary probation had never sounded better. 

 Sophia was in fact, getting better after her ex and his friends were gone for a while, and Jennifer was glad she made a lasting friendship in her first year in college. It would take time to heal, but they would hold onto each other through life, through good and bad until their graduation. 

 Yet, life after graduation wasn't the fairy tale Jennifer had thought it would be. 

 "Do you need to be around someone else?" Sophia asked with a soft voice, yet Jennifer could hear the disappointment she felt. "We never talked about the night of the magic show, and I wish you told me about being sick, instead of a man you just met." 

 Jennifer felt her cheeks getting red with embarrasment, and the guilt of keeping so many secrets from someone who she cared about was not helping. Besides, after that horrifying chase, she had basically left Sophia alone in the show, which was supposed cheer Jennifer up. How awfully stupid was she for oversharing things about her life to William Aguillard, whoever the hell he was, instead of her best friend? 

 "Sophia, I'm terribly sorry. I was feeling terrible and... He just happened to be there to help me. I couldn't bring myself to go back, but I should've told you first." 

 "I's okay. It's alright to need other friends, or be around different people, Jennifer." Sophia explained as Jennifer took a deep breath. She still couldn't tell if those words were meant to be for William, though. "I just want you to know that you can tell me anything. This is a safe space, between you and I. Maybe I wasn't the good friend I thought I was, maybe what you need someone else to talk to..." 

 Jennifer couldn't help but intervene. "Absolutely not." She asserted, as she held Sophia's hand. "You're literally the perfect friend, Sophia. Nothing will ever change that." She could tell Sophia was still waiting for an answer with her eyebrows up with confusion, worry, or presumably, both. How could Jennifer explain to her everything that had been going on? For a second, she wanted to spit it out and get away with it, but nothing came out of her mouth. "I..." She struggled, but knew she owed her an explanation for the magic show. "I think I might need some professional help. I guess I'm going through a tough period in my life." 

 "That's okay too." Sophia had a genuine, understanding gaze in her eyes, and Jennifer had no doubt she would be there for her through everything, even if the shrink decided to lock her up in an asylum. The thought sent chills over her spine. "Therapy is a wonderful place, dear. It helped me through so much, and the relieving thing was, I had a friend who would accept me for who I am." Jennifer smiled bitterly, her chest felt hollow for a second when she remembered those difficult days. "And no matter what you go through, you will have that same friend here for you." 

 Without saying anything else, they hugged each other, but the bitter feeling wouldn't leave Jennifer - she couldn't tell what caused the hollowness anymore, was it the fact that she was losing her sanity, or constantly lying to everyone around her who she cared so much about? It had to change. Now, more than ever, the need to make things right was present above all. For the sake of her loved ones, if not for herself. 

 When she left school, her steps were awkwardly confident, as a reminder of how eager she was to take back her life, her real life, and be done with this madness that got stuck on her like an annoying glue. Something sparked inside of her as she walked quickly to the bus stop, this would be the beginning of her healing journey - she would face everything, as she was about to face that horrible night by giving the jacket to its owner. It would be her who would prevail in the end, not some ghostly voice calling her a cipher, or a stalking maniac, and most definitely, not an unending thesis. 

 The bus came after a while, and she took a seat as she watched the sun set with its flickering, soft orange color over London, and for the first time in a while, Jennifer actually felt relieved. She could enjoy the beautiful scenery, gazing at the historical monuments of the city, knowing she had the power to get through it all. The ride was surely going to take longer than the last time, yet this time Jennifer wasn't going to rush her life. She carelessly put on her earbuds and some music, letting herself enjoy the unusual emptiness in her mind. 

She got off the bus near a station where the carnival area was just a few minutes away, and walking was a good way to clean her mind. Everything felt familiar in an eerie way abruptly, for a second she couldn't stop but think she was back here with Sophia, looking at the colorful lights and the crowd, trying to figure out where Cirque Hypnosia was. But no - she was here all alone, there were no colorful lights or a big crowd this time, it was as if the whole carnival area had left itself to a less fun-looking, undemanding version of it. She could see some staff, probably getting the place ready for the next night, casually talking to each other.

 An unexpected question popped up in her mind. What if William wasn't there? Yet, the thought didn't bother her that much as she thought it would - yes, the chance to say thank you for saving my ass with the right state of mind would be relieving, but it wasn't the most important aspect of giving back the jacket anymore. She could just leave it to anyone in case he wasn't there when she arrived, and go on with her life. 

The street felt oddly familiar, and it took her a minute to realize she had run for her life this way to Cirque Hypnosia five days ago, and found her way to the backstage door. She felt a chill creep over her body, and unintentionally turned around to see if anyone was coming after her this time. She took a deep breath as soon as she stared at the street, somehow relieved to notice no one was coming after her. She got closer and closer to the entrance door, her heart pounding no different than a timpani drum. Cirque Hypnosia was open, though the shiny rabbit in the hat signboard was turned off in the daytime. Just like the others, it was now a mundane, ordinary pub with less magic. 

The suffocating anxiety made itself obvious one more time, filling Jennifer's mind with her own animal-like sounds coming from her throat after that chase the last time she stood there. It had happened right here. She inhaled, as the words from the book, Samarkand, crowded into her mind - when the time of upheavals arrived, no one could stop its course, no one could flee it but some managed to use it.

 So use it. There was no turning back, and the fear was worse than everything. The fear of all of it being a figment of her imagination, the fear of it all happening once again.This needs to change, she reminded herself with a shy, yet persistent courage, I will be the one to change it. I'm going to change it now. 

 She pushed the door and stepped inside, holding her breath. 

Chapter Text

I will be the one to change it. I'm going to change it now. 

She pushed the door and stepped inside, holding her breath. 

 There were more people inside than she thought there would be, all seated in different places inside of Cirque Hypnosia - this time of the day the place seemed more like a diner than a stage for magic shows. Some of them were day drinking right next to the bar, others casually enjoying their meals, resulting in a symphony of cutlery sounds. Still, the soothing music covered all of them, giving the place a blithesome vibe. Jennifer could even notice the details in the daylight that she didn't back then, some beautiful pink orchids stood next to the Houdini posters, and there was an eye painting right behing the wall, with an ironic don't blink! sign. 

 Jennifer felt her heart slowing down, her anxiety casually leaving itself to awe as she kept gazing at all the vintage furniture. She took a few steps, yet there was no sign of William, Charlie or Maya. 

 She passed the back of the stage, and walked amid the tables, other people's conversations filled her ears as she went by. Just a bit further, a little boy's joyous giggles were audible, she could see how thrilled the boy was sitting next to his mother at a table, who was also laughing. 

 There, she saw him. 

 So, he was the reason behind that little boy's giggles, holding what seemed to be a coin, and a few playing cards in his hands. Of course. Why would she assume anything else? 

 Jennifer stared at him, taking the chance of the fact that he hadn't noticed that she was there, gray eyes wide open, and a big smile spread all over his face. The little boy and his mother seemed to be very pleased with the performance, the boy even gave a high five to William before they both left the table where he did his magic tricks. 

 Jennifer couldn't tell the shape her face was in, but she assumed she had a timid smile that she tried to hide, from the way her cheeks felt heavy and her habit of biting inside of her lips. Just like a slowed movie scene, it took a moment for him to realize her presence - his colorful eyes watched the boy and his mother leave the table, and he turned to his back as their eyes met. 

 Truth be told, that kind of felt nostalgic to Jennifer, if nostalgia was considered to be a concept for something that happened five days ago. His eyebrows lifted just like the last time he saw her, the surprised expression on his face was new, but the curious sparkle in his gray eyes was unmistakably the same. Slowly, William Aguillard's lips formed a welcoming smile - this time more daring, as an actual friend of Jennifer Hope's. 

 "Excuse me, ma'am," An unfamiliar voice, a demanding one, suddenly interrupted. Jennifer stopped staring at William to see who it was, only to see a waitress standing next to her. Suddenly, blood rushed all over her cheeks. "We take the payment before the card trick show."

 William intervened before Jennifer attempted to gabble a few embarrasing words. "This one's on the house, Chloe." He used his walking stick -this time a brown one- to stand up, and approached to Jennifer calmly. "She's no customer, but a friend of mine." 

 Chloe's doubtful eyes wandered around between William and Jennifer, possibly trying to figure out the truth. Though Chloe was in no position to question, something about the way she stared at them made Jennifer feel like she was being judged. "Won't want the boss to see you dilly-dally." 

 William sighed. "No worries, the boss too will be happy for her visit." Then, he winked at Jennifer - now that was nostalgic, considering the way he kept saving her ass constantly. The boss. Surely he was talking about Charlie. Jennifer found herself wishing he wouldn't be here today. Else, Sophia would definitely have some questions. 

 Chloe didn't insist much longer, she simply rolled her eyes and shrugged as she walked away. "Don't say I didn't warn ya." 

 "I won't." William waited until she left before turning to Jennifer. His face had a playful expression, as if he enjoyed pissing her off. But that expression left itself to a much friendly one in a second. "What a surprise, it's so nice to see you again, Jennifer," He kindly shook hands with her, then escorted her to the table. "Why don't you sit?"

 "Nice to see you too," She sat down, as William pushed her chair as a gesture, then returned to his own, putting his walking stick next to it. "But I guess Chloe disagrees." Jennifer teased, surprising herself with the small amount of social courage it took for her to joke around. 

 William's playful attitude returned. "Don't mind her, she's just as surprised as I am." His long fingers quickly started to get all his messed cards on the table in a deck. "Though she'll probably try to figure out who you are while she eavesdrops, considering you're also a friend of the boss. Watch this," He turned around and quickly snatched a glance to the pub, and there Chloe was, gazing at them from afar, perfectly camouflaged behind the empty wine glasses. 

 Jennifer couldn't help but chortle as she watched William squint his eyes and shake his head with irony to her. As a response, Chloe simply left her hiding spot, rolling her eyes at William, and putting up her middle finger. "What the?" He raised his hand with confusion. 

 That just made Jennifer laugh more. Every fear, every horrifying thought it took for her to get herself in here, had led up to this very awkward moment - being spyed by a waitress who didn't hesitate to pull up a middle finger. 

 William turned to his back, facing Jennifer. "I swear, I have no idea what I did to make her dislike me so much." 

 "Maybe it's the opposite. Maybe she likes you too much." 

 His eyes grew large in a sarcastic way. "Then help me God."   

 As she giggled, William seemed happy to make her laugh, and took his time staring at her as she enjoyed the moment before he said anything else. After a brief moment of silence and exchanged looks, William hesitantly spoke, his calm voice sounded unsure if he was crossing the line or not. "You seem much better." 

 And though those words wouldn't mean any spesific thing to anybody else, they did to Jennifer - she instantly understood William intented to ask about how she was handling what happened. No one else knows about it, she realized straight away, just me and him. And the pyscho who chased me. 

 "I am." Jennifer replied, lowering her gaze to the deck of cards on the table. "What about you?" 

 "Ah, magic tricks for kids, a hostile work environment, you know, same old same old." As soon as he realized Jennifer's timorous stare at the cards, William grabbed them with a subtle move - and just like that, the cards started to fly.

 Jennifer was almost hypnotized watching how fast the cards flew from one hand to another, as if the cards were a living, breathing organism that only followed his orders like a snake obeyed its master's flute. In the glimpse of an eye, one of the cards symmetrically spun around his skillful fingers, and the moment after, it joined the rest of the deck - magically twirling between his hands, creating the satisfying illusion of the deck being a part of his body. It all came so natural to William, - the sleight of hand, the surprise, the spark - like breathing. This was the first time Jennifer saw him doing magic tricks, and it wasn't hard to realize he was the best at what he was doing.

 "What can I get you to drink?" He asked casually, as if none of what he did was unusual. "Coffee, tea... something stronger, perhaps?" A cunning smile appeared on his face. "Wait... Are you old enough to drink, anyway?" 

"I am!" Jennifer replied right away, defensively, but then realized he was only teasing her. "Besides, that's not necessary at all. I'm not a day drinker." 

 "Not a day drinker," He murmured, as he made a gesture with his hand to Chloe in the back, but the girl ignored William. "So, coffee, again?" 

 "William," She stopped him before he stood up to get her some coffee. "That's not what I'm here for at all. I wanted to return this." She opened her bag and took out the folded gray jacket. "I'm sorry I didn't bring it earlier, there was just so much to do and..." 

 William smiled humbly, taking the jacket. "That's alright. You've been through a lot. I imagine it wasn't easy to cope with." 

 All she could do was to nod as a yes. "You said you'd call the police after the show that night." She realized her palms were getting sweaty as she thought about what happened again, and tried to fight the urge to bite inside of her cheeks. "Any news?" 

 "No, not yet." William didn't hesitate, and that answer somehow relieved Jennifer. She wasn't sure if she could handle hearing about that freak. "But I'll make sure you know, if they find anything."

 How would he do that? It wasn't like they were actually friends that had each other's phone numbers or something. Also, she felt like she could suffocate thinking about the possibility of facing that maniac who chased her again. So maybe, for now, that was for the best. "Thank you." 

 "Don't mention it." 

 The silence was awkward after that, the only sound was William's deck that he kept shuffling, and the cutlery sounds in the background. Jennifer didn't know what else to do or say, it was too weird without Sophia being around - with her being the social butterfly and a barrier between Jennifer's awkwardness around new people. She started to stare around, and then, without meaning to, her eyes found him. It was only natural, since there wasn't much left to look at in Cirque Hypnosia. 

 It wasn't a surprise to see that William was looking at her with those curious, shining eyes again as well, almost like he also got tired of looking around. For a few seconds that felt like an eternity, Jennifer tried to memorize the details about him, and the first thing she noticed was the fact that William stood almost motionless - except his long, flexible fingers that constantly shuffled the cards in many different ways. Yet he was comfortable, as if he wasn't wasting a bit of his energy. He had a casual, brown jacket on, which made his light brown skin stand out, and his black curls were tidy. Jennifer felt the blood rushing through her cheeks once again, as it occured to her that William probably doing the same, but felt relieved when he broke the silence. 

 "So you don't want coffee, and you say you're not a day drinker..." He squinted his eyes, trying to hold his grin. "I'm guessing that leaves card tricks as the key to keep you here just a little longer." 

 "Well, you said they were cheesy before, so I don't know..." She joked, reminding him of his own words - I'm just a simple circus magician with a few cheesy card tricks.

 William suddenly laughed, Jennifer felt unreasonably satisfied as he did. "Fair enough. You got me." 

 He picked a few cards from the deck, quickly shuffling as Jennifer kept watching, then turned them to her to see. "Would you be so kind to pick one for me?" 

 Jennifer took a look at the cards, sometimes she would have hard time remembering the names, all she saw was a pile of kings and queens in front of her - she chose the first one that drew her attention. The Queen of Clubs, black one. 

"Alright. Done." 

 William quickly started jogging cards on top of each other, one by one. "How is the thesis going, by the way?" Then, he divided the deck to both of his hands. 

 "Wait, are you trying to distract me or something?" Jennifer raised her eyebrows and linked her arms and grinned. 

 William chuckled. "Not at all, there's no need." He pulled up the deck on his right hand and showed the cards to Jennifer. "Is your card in here?" 

 "The thesis is... going somewhere." She unexpectedly replied, it was a shame, yet she could admit to herself she enjoyed playing this word game with him. "And... no. My card is not there." 

 William raised the other deck on his left hand after shuffling. "That's better than not going anywhere at all." This time he didn't ask, only waited until Jennifer answered.  

 "I guess." She rolled her eyes. "Yes. My card is there." 

 William put that deck and shuffled it with the others, then repeated dividing them to both of his hands. "How is Sophia doing? Hope she wasn't mad at me for the white lies." He paused, with a slight grin on his face, showing the divided deck one more time and raised his eyebrows with a questioning expression.  

 "She thinks I need some serious help." Jennifer could tell that answer surprised William. "And I wanted to thank you for that, too. There was, and still is, no way I can explain to her what happened without sounding crazy. And no, my card is not there." 

 "I guess I get that. She seems so happy to be around you." He shuffled, and raised the other deck. "And she seems happy around my boss as well." 

 "That's also why I didn't want to ruin her night. Things are finally going well for her." Jennifer confessed. "Yes. My card's there." 

 William shook his head and stood silent for a second as he shuffled the deck again. "One last time." He divided the deck and showed one of the piles to Jennifer. 

 Jennifer felt kind of annoyed that it was a one-sided conversation with him all the time, one that was always about her. It was nice to speak to him, but the fact that she knew nothing about the interesting guy sitting right before him annoyed her. And it wasn't even fair - because though it was embarrasing, the truth remained the same - William Aguillard was probably the most interesting guy she had ever met. 

 "I heard you speaking French with Maya that night." Jennifer answered, surprising William who waited for an another answer to continue his card trick. "I'd guess you were from France as she is, but you sound... American." 

 William had a smile that seemed kind of unavoidable. "Tricking the trickster, are you?"

 Jennifer shrugged shyly, yet felt proud that her little scheme worked out. 

 "Louisiana." He said at last, raising one of his eyebrows. "New Orleans, to be exact. But I haven't been there for a long time."

 His eyes found hers. "My card is not there." Jennifer replied, in return. "Can I take a wild guess?" 

 William bit into his smile. "Please, surprise me." 

 "Are you Creole?" 

 William's lips parted in an ecstatic laugh, but at the same time, he seemed surprised. "I am, by my mother's side." He shook his head side by side as the grin spread all over his face, and Jennifer was the same. "No wonder you're looking for an ancient book that no one knows about for your thesis. You're smart as hell." 

 Jennifer rolled her eyes in a cute way, that made him laugh even more. He seemed joyous, and to be fair, Jennifer was too. She could never guess having any of this wonderful time while she was in school, disconnecting from the reality.  

 William didn't ask anything after that, but focused on dealing the cards into two piles. Then he took the pile on the left and did the same. Now Jennifer was looking at three piles of cards, and William quickly pushed the first card on the left side to her side of the table. He opened the card on the right, and there stood a Queen card, red in color. 

 "That wasn't-" As soon as the words left her mouth, Jennifer realized it was a tricky move, and she had walked into the bait. William's wink made it obvious that the trick wasn't done. 

 "Your card was a Queen..." William quickly flipped over the pile on the center, revealing a King card, black in color. "It was black," He continued, flipping the last pile. "And it was a Club." 

 Jennifer's lips parted open in surprise. There was only one card left. William waited as she grabbed the last card, and flipped it over. "The Queen of Clubs." She took her time to take it in, thinking about how she missed the moment of deceit. It had all happened right in front of her eyes, but there was no way all those cards was in that order with a few shuffles. "How..." It was a dumb to ask, yet she couldn't help herself.

 William laid the cards down. Jennifer took a look at them, having the chance of examining them for the first time. Eight cards, all of them Kings and Queens of different suits. "Just an easy shuffling trick." He shrugged. "When you say your card is in the pile, I put the deck on top or bottom accordingly before I shuffle again. So I can control each one." William grabbed his deck one more time to show Jennifer how the shuffling worked, but it was all so abstract to her - it felt like a different reality. "That only leaves the order to memorize." 

 "But how do you memorize that?" 

 "Yeah... That takes a little practice." His voice had a playful tone. "Took me about a hundred times." 

 Jennifer stood silent for a while, allowing herself to be impressed by his craft. "That was wonderful. Really well thought out." She clapped her hands in a quiet way as a friendly way of saying bravo. "It must have taken years to master all of this." 

 "Oh, I had all the time in the world growing up." He put the cards in the rest of the deck and shuffled them. "You have time for one more?" 

 "Go ahead." She smiled and wondered what would be the thing to shock her the most. "Why do I get the feeling that you were a child prodigy?" 

 "Well, everyone assumes that, but between you and me," William paused as he kept shuffling his decks, and continued by whispering. "There isn't much to do when you're on a wheelchair, so you learn cheesy card tricks like this." 

 He was still smiling, but now there was something bitter in those clouded gray eyes. Jennifer made the connection almost too easily, and couldn't help but snatch a glance to the brown walking stick that stood right next to the table. She wasn't sure why she was shocked, especially because William walked perfectly - without a limp or a sign of pain. One could easily doubt if he was actually disabled or not. "I'm sorry, that must have been very hard for you as a child." But she regretted the words as they came out, remembering what Sophia had said to her the first time they talked - whoever you are, I don't need your pity.

 "Don't worry, I have tons of funny stories now thanks to my time on the wheelchair. How about you give me a number from one to twenty?" He kept shuffling the deck like a habit of his. 

 "Okay." Jennifer tried to come up with a number for a second, it was as if her mind went blank. "Seven." 

 William put the card deck on the table and slowly pushed it to Jennifer. "Could you cut seven cards from the start? And shuffle it, will you?" 

 Jennifer hesitantly reached for the cards, shuffled them slowly and with less magic-looking movements. She started to pick them up one by one, counting to seven. Now that there were seven cards on the table aside from the deck, she wondered how he was going to manipule them without even holding them in his hands. 

 "Take a look at the top card, but don't show it to me." 

 Jennifer did the exact thing William told her to, and grabbed the card that stood on the top, a black colored King of Spades. Then William took the deck, shuffling both her card and the rest of the six cards, and gave the deck a couple of cuts. When he was done, he snapped his finger, and picked the last card on the deck. 

 An Eight of Spades fell to the table. But Jennifer didn't say a word as she did in the last trick. Without wasting time, William pushed the second card, this time it was a King of Diamonds, and put that on the table next to the other. "A King, and a Spades," He shuffled his cards, and continued. Suddenly, somewhere back of his hand, another card appeared. "So I suppose that leaves us, King of Spades?" 

 It was painfully annoying to not know how he did it without touching the deck before the trick at this point, not to mention how the card suddenly flew from the back of his hand. "How is this even possible? You had no idea." 

 "I must say, this one's much more cheesier in a very lame and a heart breaking way." The mischievous expression on William's face was a sight to see. 

 "How?" 

  William gave Jennifer a bargaining look. "Well, I can't reveal all of my tricks, dear." 

 Jennifer couldn't resist the urge to laugh. "Why did reveal one in the first place?" 

 "You asked so nicely, I couldn't help it."

 "So you just reveal them to everyone who asks so nicely?" There was something sassy the way Jennifer spoke, but a little sass never hurt nobody. 

 It took him a second to confess, but he did with a meaningful gaze, one that got his eyes looking down, and made a faint, coy smile appear. "Never. Guess there's a first time for everything. " 

 Before Jennifer could figure out what that meant, her phone buzzed with a text message from her dad. She read it, and her laugh left itself to a genuine smile. She didn't have to say anything else, William understood what it meant. 

 "You have to go, don't you?" He spoke with a slight tone of bitterness in his voice.

 "My dad's asking me for dinner." Jennifer replied, and continued with a soft tone. "This was so much fun, William. I wasn't aware how much I needed it. I have a lot to thank you for." 

 "Well, thank you making today better." He sounded genuine. "Oh, wait. I almost forgot. Could you wait here for a second? I need you to have something."  

 Jennifer gazed at him quizzically. What was that all about? "Um, yeah, sure..." She gabbled, hoping her social anxiety wouldn't kick in. She watched him take his walking stick and as he went to the stairs and disappeared from her sight, Jennifer realized her heart was pounding with excitement. She couldn't tell if that was caused by the thrill of the magic tricks, or the unfamiliar, elusive sensation of meeting someone so exceptional. His voice rang in Jennifer's mind, guess there's a first time for everything. It was so rousing to be in a magician's world for a second, even though she couldn't properly understand everything at first. 

 William appeared back on the stairs quicker than Jennifer expected, holding what seemed to be a black box. Jennifer couldn't possibly tell what it was, her mind was too full, thinking about all the cards she chose from the deck that reappeared in her hands. "This is for you." William raised his eyebrows playfully. 

 Jennifer tried to open the box, but William stopped her with a quick move. "Do it when you get back home, trust me, it'll be worth the wait." 

 "Okay..." She spoke nervously. "I'm definitely not going to have a heart attack, thank you." 

 William's only answer was his playful grin. Jennifer gave him one last look before she said goodbye, and left Cirque Hypnosia with an unexpected gift. 

 She was so full of excitement, she couldn't even realize how fast she got home. Her father was downstairs and there was a beautiful scent coming from the kitchen. With quick steps, she started climbing the stairs with the box in her hands. "Hey, Juniper!" Her father's voice filled her ears. "Guess what's on the menu today!" 

"Coming right up, dad, just a second! Smells delicious!" She yelled back before she closed the door of her room after her. 

 She put the box on her table and ignored her rapid heartbeat, quickly opening it with shaky hands. The first thing she saw was a black plastic, which was obviously there to preserve what was inside, but on it stood a playing card. Jennifer took the card with confusion, and realized it was the famous Ace of Spades, the most valuable one in the deck. She turned it around, and couldn't help but blush. There was a note, written with a beautiful handwriting - Life is lighter than you think. - W. A. 

 And right under it stood his number. 

 Jennifer put the card aside, her cheeks getting red in an embarrasing way. She pulled the plastic away, and what she saw inside the box made a shock sound escape her mouth abruptly. Her eyes felt like they were bulging from their sockets, and it was as if the air in her lungs had disappeared. Was it a dream? How could it be possible? She had searched it for months, yet it was nowhere to be found. 

 If Jennifer didn't believe in magic before, she would now, because Sub Superficie Terrae was lying in the box like it was brand new. 

 She grabbed the book as every muscle of her body trembled, and opened the cover. The smell of the old book filled her nostrils as soon as she did. Her mind was so blurry, she couldn't even focus on the translator's note or anything else, somehow she found her way to the first sentence. 

 Sayyiduna, they called the Man on the Mountain,       

 That's when her whole body shook with a painful electric wave and she passed out. 

 This time her whole vision went unnaturally white, she couldn't believe how blank and shiny this place was, in a way that made her nauseous. It was as if time had stopped and crumbled into pieces of glass, floating in the air. She tried to open her eyes, only to see a hooded, bearded man with ancient-looking tattoos on his face. Feeling paralyzed, she tried to shout, but the man pointed his index finger to his lips - suddenly Jennifer felt him taking the control of her body, now she couldn't speak at all. 

A̘ͪ͂ͯ̀t̹̦̫͈̗̜͇̏̊̕ ̎ l͂̾̆̿ȃͦs̢̪̝͓̥͉̟͕̈́͋ͯ͗t͉̯ͬ̽͠,̮̪̫̱̂̑͊͐͠ ̃̈́͛҉̬͎͇͎͎̳̦m̠͖͙͕̥ͩ̈́͡ÿ̲͉͎͖̩̠̳͘ͅ ̴̤̖ͫ̓͒͋s͗͑̚҉͎͔wͯ͏͚͇̲̹̞̭e̬̦̞͗̓̒͛͡e̎͏̘̪̯͙͍̲̫t̯̣̣͉̘̭̓ͪ͗̃͢ c̨̘̳͙̳̹̩͛i̗̻̟̠̩ͭ͗͠p̹͙̪̼̺̦̜ͯͤ̍͐́ĥ̦̦͇͛̀́e̪͙͗͟r̻̻̰̭͒ͣ̐ͯ́ ̖̳͛ͥ͟ c̻̹̬̥̳͍͕ͦ̈̚͝h̠̭ͨ͂͟i̡̭͎̖̩̠̻͈̹ͭ̋̓l̗̣͖̝̠͍̀̂ͥ͒́d̘͔͕̙̂́. 

"Who are you?" She asked with a cracking, terrified voice, when the man let go of her control. That was the first time she could speak with one of them. But how did he control her like a puppetmaster? "What do you want from me? Leave me alone!" 

 Ś̘̬̠̹̯̮͉̐̐̕h͕̜̰̰̅ͯ͝ͅh̥̰͔̞̾͟.̴̰̭̍ͦ ̧̪̖͚ͨͮ̑ͥ B̓̄ë̡̼̲͔̟̱̳̽̍̑ ̵̦͍͇̪͓̠͙̫̔̋ñ̯̺͉̘͕̦ͭ̓̈́o̯̺͓ͣ͂͘t ̛̦̘̘̲̩̜̥̃̎͊ͩ a͙̦͚̙͙͙̍̂̾͜f̹̓̉̀ȓ͚͇̩̬̖̪̩̠̇̓̎͝aiͨͧͤd̶͈̺̰̣͚̅̑̊̚ͅ.͉͙͆̈́́

 His presence felt crooked, almost virtual. He seemed like a preacher man, but those tattoos over his face were somehow futuristic, giving him the creepy vibe he had. Jennifer felt an irresistible power taking control over her once again, suddenly she relaxed without meaning to, and listened to him while he commanded to look. She did, and all she saw was a big, beautiful panther with huge teeth. 

 She wanted to ask, who are you one more time but couldn't speak a word - she knew she wouldn't if he didn't permit her to. A small teardrop escaped her eye, and fell to her cheek. 

 Then, as if the tattooed man heard Jennifer, he answered - after wiping her tear from her cheek with his finger. 

  I ̺͎͎͖̩̮̋͋͠ waͭ̏̆n̴̰͚̟̩̓ͅt̝͉̗̗̰̱͐̔̌̚͝ĕ͌d̆̐ ̴͓̮̖͎͓͎̬̪ͯ̽̆ t͆͐̓oͥ̌̽҉͉̦ ̢̟̯̘͆̎ͭ̄ m̶̘̙̟̳͔̬͊ę̱̞̬̓ͪ̌e̝̟̯͍͓̹͓̱͐̀ṫ̝̰̮̜ͨ̅͢ ͎̠̬̊ͥ̽ͮ͢. ŷ̟͎̚͟o̟͓͔͍͒ͫ̅͜ǘ͏̪̩̦.̷̰̟̩̯̥̾̾̎

 C̱̘̻̮̪̄̎͐̚͟a̸̤͇͖ͮl̠̠̤͈͙̾͌̀l̤̯̾̀ ̠̺̟̳̈́̈̎ͪ̕ m̵̗͙̦̟̯͔̟͒͊͒e̶̩̺̠͙̤͇ͤ͛̾ͣ ̬̝̘̘̬͑ͨͫ͠S̲͙̖͔͇͎̲̹ͯ̌͒̌̀ạ̰̟̝͌͜y͐ͥ͐̿yͦͦͪi̞͚͙͖ͧͫ͝d̓̅̇̃͏͍̻ūnͣ͊̃ͧa̛͕͉̩̖̩ͧͅ.

Chapter Text

S̴͐͌͛̕o, ẙ̶̧̟̰̭̼̥͔̙̼̹̒̒̊́̎̌ó̵͛̋̓͗̄̑̇u ̷̤͎̬̩̙̬̺̲̲̟̭͕̪̘͎̏̈́͊̄ sě̵̡̯é̷, 

m̶̍y s̷̚ẁ̶͔͓͔̘̘̩̥́̈́̈̈ͅe̷ê̶̯̜̮͕̩̯̥͙t ̴̣͈͇͎̺̎̂̃̅ cip̴̅́͐her̴ ̶̛̛͓͇͍̖̻̈́̾̔͘͜ch̴ild̴. 

T̴̈h̵e ̸͈̠̱̉ͅ pâ̸̧̗̱s̵͌t̵̘͆ ̶̲̍͜͝is̶ n̶̨̰̟͇̑ộ̴̋̓t̸̃ l̵o̷̧͕̰̲͒̐̔͒s̴͑̉ť̴̳̼̬.

A warm breeze sauntered over Jennifer's hair as she stood frozen in a beautiful backyard, her eyes still damp with teardrops. Where am I, she pleaded desperately, unable to make a sound. Her whole body was out of her control - Sayyiduna pulled her strings and played with her like a puppet. Her eyes wandered around with fear to see if the hooded man was here with her or not, but all she could see was some flowers and a tree house. Where the hell is this place? Let me go, please... 

 Ti̵m̴̃̓e i̴s ̸́ å̴̪͖̰̠̤ f̴̛u̴̟̫̔͌̃̏̈́͠͝nn̴̡͗̓͆̏̏y cô̷̤̽͂͗n̸̰̈̈́̀̓͠c̷ep̸̌t,

 fọ̴̍̂͝r̴̍ ̴͊̉̄͠ yo̶͐̈́u̴͓͋͜ ̶̒̃̀̓ a̸n̴̨̫̝̦̊̋̆̑̔d I.

 It's ̸̦̀̈́ a̴̘̝̅b̶́̀o̵̧͌́͗u̵͉̭͛t̶ ti̸m̷̋̋̚͝e y̴̐o̸u leạ̴̭̿̈́rn̴t.

 Sayyiduna's voice that rang inside her mind disappeared in a second, without even leaving an echo behind. The hooded man was nowhere to be seen. 

 Suddenly, a small boy scampered with loud giggles, his moves snappy just like a little cat as he passed Jennifer by without looking back or paying attention to her. Jennifer's heart skipped a beat as he ran away to the old oak tree in the garden. Hey! Careful, she wanted to shout, but then realized she had no voice to let out a scream. 

Do̶̹̮̍̎n'̴̙̳̇t̵ bḷ̵̒am̵è̷͌ him̸.̵ ̶

The̶͠y̴̯̐ ca̷n'̸t s̴ee ̸ yo̶͌u̴̫̹͐.̸

 All she could do was to watch the little boy now, his mischievous giggles got further away as he put one leg to a branch carefully, and after balancing his tiny body, he used the other one the push himself. The rest was almost surprising to watch, he was no different than an acrobat as he reached the upper branches in a few seconds.  

 The sound of a door slamming right behind her filled Jennifer's ears, and just as she turned her head to look, she saw him - a young man, who seemed no older than a high schooler. He had a nice jacket on with a tie he didn't bother to knot, and a petulant expression all over his face, making it obvious that he wasn't having the best day. But that wasn't the only thing that spiked up Jennifer's senses and made her want to observe this young man carefully as he stood right beside her on the porch - it was the fact that, even though he wore his black hair with traditional braids and had a slightly darker brown skin color, he was the exact copy of William Aguillard. Same gray eyes. Same symmetrical face. But he wasn't - 

 "Ca suffit, petit voleur!" His voice sounded so different from William's, much more cranky, like a boy who just hit puberty. The French speaking was unexpected, but Jennifer was even more shocked when she realized she could understand what the young man said word to word, even though she couldn't remember a single thing she learnt about French in her high school years. That's enough, you little thief! 

 Fe̵̥̓ar̴̟͉̬̬̃̈ ̵ n̷̄o̴t. 

 Th̴a̷t'̴s̴̛ ju̸s̸t ̸ ŏ̶͆n̵͙̰̽͝é̴̫̥̓͐ ̴̗͛͂ of̴ ̷͖̌̾̈́ ȯ̷ur̷ ̴̘͓̐͘ m̸a̵͌n̴̔̀y̸̓͑̎ gift̶s.̵̺̹͈͋̈͘

 He leaned forward, and grabbed something from the ground that Jennifer didn't notice was there - a small, empty box that fit in the palm of his hand perfectly. His voice cracked as he shouted presumably to the little boy on the tree who was nowhere to be seen. "Très bien. Tu as fait tomber la boîte, idiot..." Great, you dropped the box, silly. His eyes prowled around to find the little boy, yet failed. "D’ailleurs, que fais-tu avec mon jeu de cartes?" The young man growled. Besides, what are you doing with my deck of cards? 

 Jennifer could hardly put the pieces of the puzzle together, still, what she just heard terrified her - could it be possible? Who was this young man that stood right next to her? And most importantly... who was that little boy on the top of the tree? The one he called the little thief, stealing a deck of cards?

 A tiny, naughty voice interrupted her thoughts. "Maman a dit que je pouvais jouer avec eux!" Mom said I could play with them! 

 "Get your ass back in here!" The young man shouted impatiently, this time giving up on speaking French - seemed like he had been in trouble before. "Everytime you hurt yourself, the blame's on me. And stop touching my stuff, for fuck's sake!" 

 "Jaimé!" A woman's strict voice was heard, one that stopped the young man from whining and throwing around swear words. He turned around when he realized his name was being called, a bashful expression spread all over his face suddenly. There she was, a beautiful woman was looking at him from the open window. "Watch your mouth around your brother!" 

 Jennifer took a look at her for a second before she disappeared inside the house, and quickly realized how pretty she was - her hair was braided just like Jaimé's, only longer, her slant eyes were shining with the light make-up she put on, and her black dress made her beautiful, caramel-like skin stand out. That moment alone was enough to confirm Jaimé was her son, though he had some sort of resemblance of someone else with those colorful eyes, the rest was a gift from his mother. But the resemblance was breathtakingly more terrifying when William's face rushed to her mind. It made no sense how this was all possible, yet none of it felt like a vivid hallucination anymore. Whatever this was, it was real, and Jennifer was a witness to it. 

 "Oui, maman." Jaimé replied with an obeying manner. Yes, mother. The rogue teenager was gone, leaving a well-raised young man behind. "Are we leaving so soon?" 

 "Not before you get your brother down from that tree house." Her voice sounded like she was getting closer, and a second later, she opened the door and stared at her son. "Best not keep Izar waiting." 

 "Uncle Izar is coming with us?" The excitement in Jaimé's voice was hard to miss. "I thought dad was going to."

 His mother quickly nodded. "They both will." Jaimé stared at his mother as he couldn't process what he just heard. But before he could ask anything, his mother was already on her way. "Meet me in the back after getting your brother." 

 "But maman, he never listens to me." 

 "Reminds me of someone else I know." His mother grinned as Jaimé rolled his eyes, Jennifer knew that she was talking about him. She left, and the sound of her high heels got more distant with each step she took.  

 The young man stood so close to Jennifer now, as if he could touch or grab Jennifer by her arm if he intended to, but he had no reaction to Jennifer's presence at all. Instead of going to the tree house, he grabbed something in his pocket slowly, after making sure nobody was spying on him. It was a yellow envelope, one that was crumpled and unopened. 

 Jennifer watched Jaimé's hasty manner, she could see his hands were shaking. He stared at the envelope with a hard, fixed gaze, each breath he took was quick and shallow. Jennifer saw it in his eyes - Jaimé was questioning if he should open it or not, the moment of truth was standing in his bare hands. 

 Without thinking a second longer, he ripped the paper and opened the envelope. Jennifer could now see a piece of letter paper with a beautiful handwriting in it when Jaimé anxiously started to read. She couldn't help herself to catch a glimpse, yet found herself reading the whole thing. 

My dearest brother Izar, 

I will do whatever I can to make sure this letter finds you urgently and classified, but the rest is up to (...)

I will be leaving New Orleans without my children soon, to find whoever the Cipher is, (...) to put a stop to whatever he does, causing us so much trouble. (...) we can't face it alone like we used to. I'm afraid we have to convince the Brotherhood for a truce with the Order, (...) our survival depends (...) 

The children are alright. Loga came to visit, but he's still angry with me. I can't ask him to keep them (...) so I ask you. 

I don't get to see Shay in safe conditions anymore, so please help your friend for old times sake (...) 

Your sister and friend who hopes to hear from you soon,

Félicité Aguillard. 

 Jennifer's sigh of shock was sudden and dire, her eyes growing large as the woman's name rang in her mind repeatedly. Félicité. Félicité Aguillard. Aguillard. So that was... who? William's mother? And who was this Jaimé boy supposed to be? 

 Everything she learnt about William crowded into her mind, she tried to examine every word that left his mouth, the smallest dust piece of information about his life that he was so reluctant to share. Louisiana. New Orleans. Was that where she was right now? It could be. I haven't been there for a long time. I had all the time growing up, when you're on a wheelchair, you learn cheesy card tricks like this. On the contrary, the little child climbing the tree seemed to be doing just fine, if he was William Aguillard at all. 

 That was when Jennifer realized the issue wasn't where Sayyiduna took her - the real question was when he did. Everything around her seemed oddly unfamiliar, from the way the backyard looked like, to the way people dressed - as if they belonged in a different time. 

 Before she could see if Jaimé went to the tree to get his brother down to the ground, Sayyiduna's uncanny voice was back, and the whiteness washed over her sight like a magical fog.

We̸ ̸̧̛͕̘ ar̴̈́̌e ̵̢̡̝͛̀ t̵̀h̵e t̴r̸ue̵ h̵ar̷̨͌bin̵̙̜̣̊g̸e̸̛͖̅̈́rs̸̙̀͜,

  ̷̨͔̗̀t̸he ̸̩̲̇̾͊ tṙ̸̓u̴͑e pr̴̜̩͍͒́ơ̶͈͐͗p̷h̸e̷t̶s.̴̞͓͉̾̇ ̸̈́

 A̶l̵a̴s̷̄̅ ̸͚̏ yo̸͊̒u̸̺̠͌ cȃ̶n'̶͚͌t̵ see̶͙͔̿

 if̴͑ I do̸͑n'̵̦̭̋t̵͒̇ all̸͓͗̀o̴w̵͝ y̸o̶ụ̵̝͘.̸̦̇ ̸́͜

 ...I am in no condition... to fight... need to stay... away from the guards... 

 Jennifer didn't recognize this wounded voice, nor understood where it came from. Then, blur. The ground shook, Jennifer's ears rang with dizziness. 

 "Where are you, Charles?" The voice sounded like it was coming out of Jennifer's mouth, but she wasn't the one who spoke. It was a man's angry howl, filled with vengeance. 

 "Gone." Another man's voice was heard behind Jennifer, one that cut cold like ice. She turned to her back to see who he was, but she was simply too dizzy to notice where she was or who these unfamiliar people were - she'd assume she was inside someone else's nightmare. 

 Then, her eyes found him in all the dust. A man with sharp edges stood tall right in front of her like the Morningstar himself - as if he had just fallen from the heaven and sought for his vendetta. His gray hair was tied, but it looked untidy, and he wore a hat that resembled of a ship captain's. Though he seemed wounded and all kinds of in pain, he looked no older than fifty. Whoever he was, his colorful eyes shined with a dangerous spark that provoked fear in Jennifer's mind, reminding her the masked man who chased her after the Cirque Hypnosia show. The real fear, she remembered, the kind that makes you stop thinking and run. And now it was truly triggered.  

 In the blink of an eye, the man punched Jennifer on her face so fierce, the blinding pain made her fall on the ground. Without wasting time, he kicked her a few more times, showing no mercy.  

 She had no control over her moves, so whoever was in control must had a big, powerful body that was hard to knock down. All Jennifer could do was to watch in fear as two men punched each other, eager to kill one another. Soon enough, Jennifer watched two hands - were those her hands? - grab the man by his neck and turn him around, holding his arm strictly. 

 Now the man with the hat spoke with a derisive attitude, his jaw clenching tightly with each word. "Come now, you cannot hope to match me, Connor. For all your skills, you're still but a boy with so much left to learn." 

 Connor. This terrible fight Jennifer was witnessing, it was his point of view. Yet that name didn't ring a bell in her mind at all. As she tried to process the truth, a sharp knife shined between Connor's big hands, and the next thing Jennifer heard was the other man's painful scream. The knife cut his arm deeply, and the pool of blood started to shape a red clove flower on his white tunic. 

 "Give me Lee!" Connor cried out with rage.

 F̴o̸r̶̝̈́ cen̸̗͆t̸u̸r̴i̷͑͜es,̴̧̾ s̴̀mal̸͍̏lf̸o̸ĺ̶̼k ̴ fo̴u̶gh̶͂͜t ̵̗̌ov̵̪̉e̴͊r̸̉͜ ̷̬̐

our̸ gì̶f̵t.̷

 Jennifer held her breath when she heard Sayyiduna again. What gift, she thought, taking her chance for an answer. What are you talking about?

Th̵e̸̕ gi̵̍ft ̷̱͑ ơ̶f li̷fe ̸̛̫ an̷̂d ̸̗̇ d̴̀ĕ̶͕at̵̑h̶. 

,̸̻͒ ̴̣̉ for̷ ̴͍̂we h̴̍a̵̡͂v̴e li̶v̸e̵d̶̈͜ ̴ m̵an̸y̴ ̸͊ l̶͍̉ive̸s̸͙̉.̸̘͝ ̴̗̅

 A moment later, as if Sayyiduna had a magical clock that could fast forward in time, Jennifer skipped a few moments with no logical explanation. Next, her whole body was on the ground - or, to be precise, Connor's body. The metallic taste of his blood was on his lips, Jennifer could feel it in her taste buds. The gray haired man stood on top of him, his bloody hand tightly wrapped around Connor's neck, blocking the air to reach his lungs - at the same time, Jennifer's.

 "Even when your kind appears to triumph..." The man let out an ironic laugh, grabbing Connor's neck stronger. "Still, we rise again. And do you know why?" 

 Jennifer's breathing was getting alarmingly slower as the man held Connor, and even though he was bleeding all over the place, that didn't seem to stop him from choking the guy to death. She could feel Connor's body shaking, demanding for air as soon as possible - it was unnatural, but it felt like their bodies were connected. 

 "It is because the Order is born of a realization. We require no Creed, no indoctrination by desperate old men. All we need, is that the world be as it is..." Connor tried to push his hand from his neck, but it was no use. "...And this is why the Templars will never be destroyed!"

 Nothing could prepare Jennifer for what happened next - she watched it like a slowed motion scene as her heart was pounding wildly. A long, sharp blade of shiny steel appeared out of nowhere from Connor's left hand, finding its way to the gray haired man's jugular vein, and within seconds, leaving him on the ground with pools of blood pouring out. 

 The Templars. 

 It almost sounded like a cruel joke, considering how the Knights Templar simply disappeared to dust from the history scene centuries ago. Had this old man simply gone mad? Was that why these two lunatics were fighting? Over some religious fanatics? Jennifer sensed she was missing something. 

 The questions remained in her mind, yet the eerie whiteness filled the space, turning all into void. Jennifer could see the gleaming abyss turning into shapes of shattered glass every once in a while, floating around as if there was no gravity to hold them, yet she couldn't tell if that was an illusion to the eye. She had no idea how much time had passed, if time was even a concept in this subconscious realm of a place. A woman's dream-like alto voice filled her ears distantly, spinning from her one ear to another in a delicate way. Who was this woman, walking around her? 

...It tells the story of Iottsitison, 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 is long gone from the physical world... her eyes still watch over us. Her ears still hear our words. Her hands still guide us and... Her love still gives us strength. 

 Jennifer felt a gentle touch inside her palm, but the void remained still - there was no way to see whoever this woman was, holding her hand. A timorous warmness spread out from her hand, slowly reaching out her whole body. 

 You have shown me great kindness, Ziio. Thank you. 

 The timbre of the man's voice was so vivid in her mind still, it didn't take a second for Jennifer to figure out he was the man Connor killed. Though this time his voice was trembling in a timid way, and though Jennifer couldn't see anything but a foggy, dreamy void, the image of that man inside her mind was crystal clear. His brows were up, showing his slight astonishment, his lips parted open as if they were too weak to hold a dazzling, genuine smile. 

 I... I should go... 

 Ziio's lips found his in a hesitant way, like walking on thin ice, before the man attempted to leave. The rest, a forest fire. 

 It all slipped away before she could see anything else, those memories of the warmness of her hands, and that timid kiss, a spark slowly turning into flames - all devoured and consumed hungrily by the magical white fog. Now, only remained the cold emptiness and the eerie tone of Sayyiduna's voice. 

Call̴͚̔̀́ ̵̯̃͝ up̶̐o̶͈͛n̸ ̴͎̥̍ t̶h̷͝e̶m.̸̰̰̗̕ ̷͒̒͝

An̴̠̤͂d̸̍͘ ̷̅̋ th̸e̵y ̴̱̮̕ s̸ha̷l̵l ̸ f̸͝o̶lló̵̹͂ͅw̴͓͌ ̸ y̶̤̿o̸̘͗͝u̶̥͂.̶̥̊

 The white void disappeared in the blink of an eye. Gone. Jennifer was alone in a room. 

 Something about the way this place felt familiar to her, it seemed like a historic one, yet the beautifully carved furniture seemed new, probably renovated recently. Jennifer took a brief look at the vintage wall paintings - exotic birds flying over the trees with colorful flowers, and among the leaves, a white peacock was detailed. It was so delicate, so simple, one could feel at ease simply by looking at the walls. Next to the wooden desk, there stood a mirror that could count as antique, the cupboards and the bookshelf were all made of wood, and the bed didn't take much space standing in the middle. The distant scent of incense filled her nose, the subtle smell of lavender. 

For the first time, she felt her muscles slowly relax, and hesitantly, she put her best foot forward. There it is. Sayyiduna had let her go, her body was finally under her own control. The door with the elegantly carved handle stood out to her for a second. Where did that door lead? Could it be a way out, or simply a portal to more riddles? Either way, she couldn't turn her head to the chance to go somewhere - anywhere besides Sayyiduna forced her to go. Where am I, she asked again, but the uncanny voice was oddly silent, no, when am I? 

 Taking slow steps, she reached forward to hold the handle, and kindly pushed it. No, it wasn't anywhere else or a portal, but simply an another room. The dim light of yet some other antique-looking night lamp illuminated the place, it was much simpler than the other one, but the wall paintings stood the same. A small wardrobe next to a bigger bed, the same kind of vintage bookshelves, a record player. The only thing that stood out was the broken mirror - a big shattered piece seemed to be reattached to it with a powerful glue. Just in front of that odd mirror, sat a woman in a satin silk white dress.

 Jennifer couldn't see who the woman was, nor her reflection from the mirror because of the angle, but that was undoubtedly the most ravishing dress she had ever seen - with its straps designed like a bird's wings with shining, glittery feathers. Her back stood completely out, revealing her tattoo on the back of her neck - a bird, with its wings spread open both sides, a minimal design indeed. On the table stood some make-up materials and cleaning wipes, seemed like she was busy trying to get the whole thing out of her face - and Jennifer was late for the party.  

 The woman let her hair down before speaking to Jennifer. "At last, you're here. I've been waiting for you." 

 Jennifer's whole body felt paralyzed, her blood turned into ice in her veins. This was the only voice she had heard her entire life, the one she was most familiar with. How could this be possible? What time period could possibly explain this? None, simply none. None of this was true.

 The woman turned her neck with a robotic move, and their eyes met each other. Jennifer let out a terrified moan as she lost her balance, pure terror clawing at her throat.

 Jennifer Hope was the woman sitting in front of the mirror, cleaning her make-up. Kindly, she smiled. "Hello, Jennifer." 

Chapter Text

Nine a.m. - Fifteen Hours Before the Midnight 

 Truth was, Natalie Ivanova-Parker hated the puzzles she couldn't solve, and though all she had to do was to crack the code as she always did, the only thing on her mind mind was the reunion with her mother - clouding her judgement. 

 Highgate Cemetery surveillance cameras, get to it now, she tried to force herself to focus but it was no use, there was no way to stop herself from shaking her leg anxiously. Natalya. Her birthname coming out of her mother's dry lips. Irina Ivanova, what a woman. 

 I want you to stay here with me, Irina had told her, almost begging, soon it's going to be hell outside, I can feel it. Natalie had wondered what it took for her mother to put her pride aside and step up for this conversation, as she had examined the obvious worry on her mother's face. I want you safe here in the Gray House, with me. 

 What, now you decided to like me all of a sudden? Natalie had laughed ironically, causing her mother to frown like a child. How many times do we have to go through this phase? Just accept we're not meant to get on well with each other and move on with your life. I did. Her words were cruel, but both of them had known the truth - it had always been this way.  

 Why do you keep saying that, Irina's deep voice had cracked, her thick accent had become more obvious with the rage that had flamed inside. Natalie had known her mother well enough to recognize that bitter expression - it had always been there, as long as she could remember. That hidden, passive rage of her mother's could even be the only thing she could remember from her childhood. Why do you keep implying that I hate you, Irina had continued, it's like you enjoy hearing it so much, it's your whole purpose in life. Natalie had cackled, her face had felt like it was burning. Reminding everyone of how bad your mother is, and how superior you are to her. 

 You sure I'm the one that keeps reminding everyone? Natalie had screamed with an ugly, harsh tone abruptly, yet she hadn't cared if anyone had heard her or not. Or is it you who constantly pops up in my head twenty four seven and fucks everything up, from the way I dress or what I want do with my life, to who I get to love? Her mind had been filled with so many emotions, her body had begun to shake unintentionally. Soon, she had taken a breath, and tried to continue with a cold tone. We could do this all day, for old times' sake, you could say the grim reaper is coming for all I care, but I know you. Not a day in your life, you actually had love for your children. I used to feel fucking terrible that I was undeserving of it, but no more. 

 What do you want me to do? Irina had cried out with tears in her eyes, seeming more desperate than ever. The tears had floated slowly on her red cheeks, moving down to her small chin as they both had stood in silence. Then, with a timid voice, Irina had spoken as if she was confessing her sins to a priest. How do you tell your children that you never wanted to be a mother in the first place?

 Natalie had turned her back before Irina had the chance to see her tears. She hadn't taken a look on her mother's face after answering her question. Just like that. 

 A sudden notification sound from her computer brought her back to present from her thoughts, and without thinking a second longer, she clicked on it.

"Want the truth, Natalie? 

Just wait. 

Your friend

and foe,

The Good Samaritan. " 

 Two p.m. - Ten Hours Before the Midnight 

 My true love, the light of my life, my beautiful wife Grace May, 

 If only I had the words to express how much I've been missing you lately. Not a day passes that I don't miss your beautiful eyes watching over me like a guardian angel. I'm afraid I don't believe in angels anymore, not after you left. Perhaps I never thought they were real to begin with, until you shined your light in my life. That was a true miracle, indeed. 

 I keep finding myself spiraling with the same questions - about this whole situation, the consequences of my actions, the true meaning behind the tenets of the Creed. I'm terrified to make an irrevocable mistake, one that my loved ones have to pay with their lives. Like the one that cost you your life, and our son's. 

 I can't do it again, I've promised to be a decent Assassin, but the burden is a heavy one. Had you been here, you'd share with me a piece of your wisdom, it's funny Grace May, how people think I'm the wise one - yet it had always been you. 

I love you, just like the first ti

 Startled when the phone rang, Izar dropped his pen to the ground when he tried to cover his notebook with haste, and as he reached over to grab it carelessly, he bumped his head to the corner of the table.

"Fuck!" He let out an angry groan, yet he wasn't sure if he was mad at the phone for ringing, or himself for thinking someone had walked inside his room. Maybe it was the dwarfism itself, the real source of anger. He had made his peace with it years ago, but every now and then the insecurity would creep around his mind - and today was a hell of a day to let the intrusive thoughts win.  

 Rubbing his head, he grabbed the handset of the vintage phone he had for decades, the pain still so insufferable. "Hello?" His voice came out passive aggresive like a child's, which he immediately regretted, yet couldn't help. Something about this interruption made him feel like he was naked in a stadium full of people watching him. 

 There was no answer but the slight sound of someone's breathing for a second. "Connor, is that you?" Izar asked after a brief pause, wondering why anyone would bother calling him when the meeting was in an hour. Still, no answer was heard. 

 That was when the endless possiblities crowded into his mind, sending chills over his body. Who was it? The communication line had been secured to avoid any trackers years ago, so that couldn't be the case... Or could it? Could they be hacked too, just like the Templars? Just when The Good Samaritan was starting to show they knew no moral boundries. Even the possibility of this nightmare was enough to make his heart pound with anxiety. Maybe I'm not the great engineer I thought I was after all.

 "Who is this? The Good Samaritan?" He spoke with a stiff tone, not trying to show his panic. "Talk, damn you!" 

 "It's me." 

 Izar felt a shockwave trembling his body as the deep, familiar voice reached his ears. How many years had it been since the last time he heard it? He could feel the undeniable tightness around his throat, it was as if his mind had turned into a stallion galloping all over the place instead of forming a coherent thought. "Sh-"

 "Don't." The man whispered aggresively, stopping Izar's lips from forming the word that he was about to say. "Are you trying to get me killed?"

 "You're the one asking me?" Izar whispered back with the same angry tone. "What the hell? How did you break in to our communication line?" 

 "I have my ways." The man answered briefly. "Listen, I don't have much time. I know it's been years and..." He paused, but Izar didn't need to hear the rest to know what he was talking about, he could almost see the wheels turning in the man's head. "Izar, I know there is no chance for me to ask more favors from you. You've spent years doing me favors, intentional or not." 

 "It wasn't about you. It has never been about you." Izar replied right away, his voice getting angrier with each word. "It was about him, and my promise, and my family. All the chances I gave you in the past, not a day you chose to step up for him. Instead, you chose the Templar morons you call brothers. Yet you have the audacity to show up now, when the enemy is waiting to-" 

 "The enemy is coming for us all now!" The man's thick accent stood out as he uttered. "There is no time to bicker on what's right or wrong, you must listen to me." He continued without catching a breath, the uneasiness in his voice more obvious than ever. "You have to make sure he doesn't come to Highgate Cemetery at midnight. Something has happened and-" The man hesitated. "I can't speak about it now. Just make sure... make sure he won't be there." 

 "I can't just magically change his mind without knowing the exact reason." Izar objected. "Besides, even if I knew the reason, it's too late for this. Everything's already settled and in motion." 

 "Aren't you a Master Assassin?" The man asked. "Command him." 

 "He too, is a Master Assassin now." 

 The silence was too sharp it could almost cut one's skin like a glass - Izar could hear the man's unsettled breathing sounds, this was news to him, the kind that he probably thought he'd never have to hear. Izar sighed with unease, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. Of course. Youngest Master Assassin ever wasn't probably the best topic to start a friendly conversation. 

 "Just try..." The man sounded desperate. "Promise me you'll try." 

 "I can't make any promises. This is out of my reach now." Izar asserted, hoping not to show any vulnerabilities, but the hole in his heart felt like it was bleeding once again. 

 "What would you do if you were in my shoes?" Now he scolded with a clear tone. "How would you feel if someone turned their back and walked away if it was your kin in danger?" 

 A teardrop fell on Izar's cheek gently. "They already did." 

 He hung up the phone without hearing what the man had to say next, then reminded himself to check the security wall of the connection line before leaving his room. 

 Three p.m. - Nine Hours Before the Midnight 

 Connor had always trusted his intuition ever since he was a child, and surprisingly it had never failed him - which was scary, considering all the experienced Assassins that stood in front of him right now seemed disoriented in their own way. 

 It all started when he entered the Headquarter, only to see William and Natalie were already there, talking to each other with an unexpectedly quite tone. Confused, his first move was to check the watch that Izar had gifted him for his seventeenth birthday to see if he was late, but that surely wasn't the case. He stood right in front of the big door, and stared at their faces filled with mixed emotions - confusion, anger, mistrust, perhaps. Natalie seemed somehow baffled or angry with her eyebrows down, meanwhile William was calm and collected as he always was - yet something about his way of speaking to Natalie made Connor realize he wasn't as focused. 

 They both collected themselves once they noticed Connor had walked inside, immediately ending the conversation - or the argument, as it seemed to be. 

 "Hey." William briefly welcomed him. "You're early." 

 Connor's eyes wandered around him and Natalie with suspicion. "So are you guys." He raised an eyebrow, turning his eyes to Natalie, but she didn't say anything, all she did was to nod. "Is everything alright? You both seem... troubled." 

 "Troubled is one of my many moods when I'm in here." Natalie didn't care to explain much. 

 Before Connor could ask anything, Mentor Gabriel and Izar rushed in with a certain kind of haste, one that stopped them from greeting everyone or joking around as they always did. Well, there was nothing usual about tonight after all. 

 The tracker Amelia and the sharpshooter Felix Clarke followed them as they gathered around the wooden table, and just like that, the meeting was in process - everyone seemed more sterile somehow, leaving their emotions about facing the freak that kept taunting them behind. The thought sent chills over Connor's body, yet he forced himself to focus like everyone else did. 

 "Let's not waste time and look over everything once again..." Connor couldn't tell why Izar's voice was cracking and weak, quickly, he realized that was the second thing to trigger his intuition about something not being quite right. Everyone's acting weird, he couldn't help but think, are they aware of something I'm not? If that was the case, even the smallest detail of tonight's plan was vitally important. Keep your eyes and ears open, he told himself.

 The plan had two phases that were intervened with each other, and it was based on three possiblities that stood out - first one being William's theory about Jennifer Hope being there in a life-threatening situation, just like the last time she had encountered The Good Samaritan. It was highly possible, and it had made sense when William explained how The Good Samaritan gave things to take them away more brutally. According to him, it was no coincidence that The Good Samaritan gave them Jennifer's escape footage with a creepy message. If so, their first priority was to make sure she was escorted outside safely.

 The second possibility was that The Good Samaritan would reveal themselves, which everyone thought would be so unlikely, considering the words on the note - For we are so many, and we are everywhere. Had this scenerio played out, the priority was to buy as much time as they could, and find a vulnerability - a blind spot to hit back at the right time. 

 The last possibility stood out strongest, and there was no running from it even if the other possibilities came to be true. The Good Samaritan wouldn't find an innocent college girl standing in front of them tonight, but professional fighters who had been trained to kill with hundreds of ways, so eventually, fighting would be inevitable. That possibility brought many disturbing thoughts with it - from bombs to torture, and Connor had felt it clear as day the first time he saw the message on the screen. It was too close for comfort to know that they would be walking into a trap, yet had no other choice. 

 "So, any questions on the bait?" Natalie asked casually while everyone stared at one another in silence. Mentor Gabriel took a seat and made a hand gesture to start the conversation, yet no questions came - the awkward silence was an indication of the fear everyone tried to hide so delicately. 

 "What's there to ask?" Amelia quickly stared at William before she answered Natalie's question after a brief pause, yet William seemed in his own thoughts. 

 "I'm just checking you." Natalie shrugged. "I don't want to die in a stupid ancient graveyard and be buried next to Karl Marx just because one of you didn't get the details right." 

 The bait, thought Connor. She wasn't supposed to be it, in the first place. The very first time they sat down to go over the plan's sketches, William had purposed to offer a bait to the Good Samaritan to purposely make them think they were winning. It could be anything, like a virus code like Natalie and Izar used to create, or something else - yet Natalie had come up with a charming idea before they could brainstorm. She would be the bait herself.

 Why would you risk yourself like that, Connor had asked her with confusion that night. It's not like you to put yourself out in the field, just leave it to me. 

 None of you here had made any contact with this freak, Natalie had answered, without any hesitation. Two times they had left threatening messages, both of them addressing me with my name. This fucker knows me and taunts me each time they have something to say. I must be the one to face them. 

 That could be a bright idea, Izar had interrupted them. But I'm afraid Connor's right, Natalie. I know you're a good fighter, but we may need someone with more experience for this kind of a job. 

 Then send a Master Assassin with her, William had finally spoken. On the list of people The Good Samaritan personally messes with, I'm the next in line after Natalie. Izar and Connor had both raised their brows, but it hadn't sounded like an offer, or an idea, William had already decided to go with her. And I'm kind of a professional when it comes to distractions, so...

 Very well, it is settled, then, Izar had sighed. Just be very careful until the recruits arrive. Buy us time. 

 Izar's coughing sound brought back Connor from his thoughts. "I have something different to offer about the bait." Everyone turned to him with curious stares on their faces, since it wasn't like him to change his plan this late. "Maybe it should be Connor who escorts Natalie, instead of you, William." 

 Connor's eyes found William's, both of them were surprised. "For what reason exactly?" William asked without any particular tone in his voice. 

 "Well..." Izar struggled to talk for a brief moment. "You're fairly new to being a Master Assassin, and we are often needed to plan every single motion of a mission, instead of taking active part in them. You need experience when it comes to planning."  

 "So you're asking me to stay back when everyone else in here are risking their lives?" His gray eyes grew larger with surprise and irony as he spoke. "That's not going to happen and you know it." 

 "I'm just asking to secure the line of Master Assassins in the Brotherhood." Izar was clearly uncomfortable now, but Connor couldn't tell if it was caused by William's answer, or something else. "It's not a rank anyone can achive, you know." 

 William couldn't hide his shock, turning to a bitter disappointment. "Since when do you give a shit about ranks and titles?" As he realized everyone staring at him, he quickly gathered himself together. "If being a Master Assassin means to stay back while everyone else does the deed, then no wonder why our enemies think the Assassin Brotherhood is filled with outdated ideas and tenets."

 "The boy's right." Mentor Gabriel spoke with a cracking voice at last, his French accent filling everyone's ears. "It hasn't done any good and he knows it. Let him defend his Brotherhood, Izar. Give him a chance. He has much to prove, still." He coughed. "Besides, I can't risk a Sage just like that." 

 Connor lowered his gaze and started to bite inside of his cheeks when he heard the word. Tonight, he reminded himself, I should stay alert to find out what it really means. 

 Eleven fifty p.m. - Ten Minutes Before the Midnight 

 As the car stood right in front of the Highgate Cemetery gates, the silence grew between William and Natalie as they waited inside.

 "Why do you think he wanted to send Connor instead?" William asked with a low voice, almost as if he was talking to himself. "He's not the man of last minute changes."

 "Hell if I have a fucking clue." He could see Natalie shrugging while she held binoculars with one hand. "This whole Samaritan thing... fucks everyone's braincells up every once in a while." 

 And though William felt Natalie had more to say, he didn't push her to do so as he watched him lowering the binoculars. "I can't tell if Izar's hiding things or not. It's killing me to think about that." 

 "He sure is, if what you told me about the ceasefire is true. And it's probably going to get most of us killed, literally." 

 The phone buzz startled both of them. William took a deep breath as he grabbed it. "Could be Izar's secured line." 

 But the text message from Jennifer Hope was a surprising distraction. It was probably the last thing he expected to see tonight, as the memory of her smile after his card tricks rushed into William's mind like an unexpected guest. I don't know how to thank you, she had written. William couldn't find the courage in himself to read the rest of the text, and he abruptly put the phone down. 

 "What does he say now?" Natalie asked curiously, not missing a second of his sudden burst of excitement.

 "It's not Izar." He fought the urge to bite his lips as his eyes wondered around. "We need to move. It's almost midnight."

 They both got out of the car, moving in sync like two puppets. William silently gestured as they put on their hoods on their heads and pushed themselves on the column, and waited until his own breathing was the only sound he could hear. 

 "How are we supposed to find this motherfucker in the dark?" Natalie whispered right next to him.

 William put his fingers on his lips to silence her. They had to pass the security first, but there was no indication of any human activity, which was unexpected. With a sense of unease he held his gun, his finger on the trigger itching with suspicion as he waited for something - anything. 

 Yet nothing happened for a while as time kept passing - nothing but his mind bringing him the worst case scenerios in the most vivid way possible. That text message from Jennifer. A bait? What if she's here somewhere? What if they... got to her before William could? 

 "Follow me." He whispered to put a stop to the intrusive thoughts. Natalie nodded silently and followed him as he carefully stepped inside, both of them walked to the small security booth. Something had happened, William thought. There is something wrong. We shouldn't have just walked inside. 

 "I'm not liking this. At all." Natalie's voice was trembling, even though she tried to hide it. "What's this sticky thing? On the ground?"

 "Hand me the flashlight, please." 

 Natalie grabbed the flashlight from her pocket with a quick move and turned it on instead of giving it to William, only to see the straight line of blood on the ground. 

 Natalie heaved a sigh of fear the second she saw the red, sticky liquid that covered her shoes. "Fuck... What the actual fuck, man? Where is this... Whose blood is all this?" 

 "Hold the flashlight right ahead of us and stay behind me. Don't stop moving, okay?" William commanded. "And don't let the enemy get to your head." 

 Natalie held the light straight ahead as she inhaled with anxiety, but the line of blood seemed to keep going. "That motherfucker gave us a line to follow?" 

 "Seems so." William started to walk slowly. "Let's stay alert. And keep in touch with the Assassins, too."

 "Working on it." Natalie whispered and took out her wireless. 

 The line of blood didn't end until they saw a large circle of ancient tombs, and the uncertainty definitely wasn't being helpful. William waited for a while that felt like a lifetime, but he couldn't get the fact out of his head - he must've been missing something. And the answer stood right in front of his eyes.

 "Done." Natalie whispered as they stopped in front of the huge circle. "The Assassins are ready and waiting for orders, and the rest of the team are right beside us. They'll be here in a minute. What now?" 

 William didn't respond, but made a gesture with his head to the circle of tombs. Natalie quickly turned the flashlight to the place where William pointed - the bloodstains covered the ancient marble, red lines of someone's fingertips were all over the place. 

 A flutter of anxiety kicked in from the back of his spine and made William's body break out a cold sweat as he took slow steps around the circle. The bloodstains didn't end, but even got more intense, and now he could feel his heart pounding in his mouth. "Stay right beside me, Natalie." 

 As Natalie followed the increasing bloodstains on the marble with the flashlight, she caught a glimpse of someone's eyes on the ground, watching her. Just before she let out a scream, William's hand reached out to close her mouth and she let out a weird, shocked moan. Someone's dead eyes. 

 Stood on the ground a man's head, though neither Natalie nor William could recognize who he was. Natalie's terrified eyes turned and found William's, who had the exact shocked expression spread all over his face. "Probably one of the security guys." William whispered and slowly lifted his hand from her mouth once he made sure Natalie wouldn't scream. 

 "We must get out of here. Now." Natalie spoke, emphasizing each word. The courage she had about facing the Good Samaritan was gone for good, and William couldn't help but feel sorry for her. She wasn't even a field Assassin to begin with. 

 A clicking sound was suddenly heard, this time Natalie let out a sigh of horror and turned the flashlight to one of the graves where she thought the sound came from. All they could see was a statue of an angel weeping. 

 "What the hell's this?" William pointed.

 Right above them stood a subtle engraving of two hands praying - with a message written under: We shall meet again. 

 That was when Connor's scream filled their ears. 

Chapter Text

 He's in danger, were the words that echoed like an aching sound of a bell in William's mind, I have to get to Connor. To my brother. 

 He started to run before he could understand what was happening - all he had in mind was Connor, and whatever made him scream like an innocent child being hurt badly. What is it, his empty mind kept questioning, what kind of a nightmare are we in? 

 "Connor!" He bellowed out excruciatingly, but there was no way to spot him or wherever his voice came from in the pitch darkness of the night. "Connor where are you!"

 "Will! Watch out!" Natalie's harsh voice turned into a scream full of terror as it filled William's ears, and just like that, William realized his senses were blinded by the panic he felt, and Natalie had warned him for something.

 A second was more than enough to feel someone's mere presence behind where he was standing. Someone was there, breathing down his neck. And William was too terrified to even notice. 

 Without thinking, William's first move was to duck by moving his head with an abrupt flexiness, and his Assassin instincts didn't fail him this time as he watched a metal-like bolt missing him. In the blink of an eye he could see the metal bolt flying above his head, one that could possibly was catapulted by a crossbow. 

 "Natalie, run!" William shouted out before he quickly stood up, with his posture ready to fight. 

 Then, he saw him. Their eyes locked as an uneasy silence took over, this was the moment that both of them knew perfectly well - two enemies, finally facing one another. William embraced this odd moment, and forced himself to adapt to it, he would need his focus and cunningness right about now. Though, the man's appearance was one to be examined over and over - with his one-piece, tar black veil covering his whole body, and a horrifying mask that probably belonged to a saint in the Crusades time, he reminded William of a bat right out of hell. And that bat held a nice little crossbow as an extra. 

 "What the fuck do you want?" He held his walking stick, grasping it tightly. 

 That was probably an unfortunate question, since the only reaction to it the masked man had was a small tilt of his head. Then, he waited no time to aim with his crossbow and shoot at William once again. 

 This one was easier to dodge, yet William needed to put his terrifying thoughts and his desire for answers aside to think clearly. Do what you do best, he thought to himself, use the sleight of hand. 

 William made sure the masked man wasted a couple of bolts as he distracted him running around, and while the man took his time to reload, he found his way straight to him. His body twirled around the man's arms with a quick move. This was a shock to the masked man, one that caused his huge, bat-like figure to stumble for a brief second - but it was enough for William to apply a timid pressure to the blade that stood on his left wrist. A click sound was heard, and with no hesitation, William pushed the silver colored hidden blade to the man's back. 

 That would definitely not be enough to kill him yet, but William only needed time to cause him pain as he switched on the little slide on his walking stick. He turned to his back to check the top of the circle tomb as his fingers removed the handle from the rest of the walking stick, but quickly realized he had no time to make assumptions. All he could simply do was to trust in Izar's engineering skills and hope the masked man wouldn't reload the crossbow in time. 

 Using all the strength he had, William threw the handle of his walking stick to where he hoped to be the top of the circle tomb, and a zipline was revealed when the masked man turned to him. For a brief moment, he felt the solid rope shake in an unsettling way. Don't disappoint me. Not right now. But before he could tell, his feet left the ground with an agile movement. 

 The masked man aimed quickly as William flew up to the top of the circle tomb, but the bolt never made it to where he stood.Thanks for the inspiration Frye twins, he thought, paying a small tribute to the original owners, and bless you Izar for this one of a kind weapon, even though I'm still mad at you. 

 He could see Natalie from the top very clearly now, she too was dealing with a bunch of masked guys almost twice her size. William didn't even blink as he held his gun and pulled the trigger, neutralizing one of them right away. Natalie took the advantage pretty quickly, and stabbed the other one on his neck. The third man seemed to be the bulkiest of them all, carrying a huge spiky mace in his hand, and just looking at him made William gasp when he thought about Natalie having to face with him alone. I can shoot him. No, I have to get down and kill him. 

 "Don't stop, motherfucker. Come get me!" Natalie hissed with loathing, and she spit to the ground before wiping her face with her arm. William couldn't see perfectly well, but he had no doubt Natalie was bleeding. I have to help her now. I can't watch her die.

 Just as William made a move, an unexpected gunshot was heard nearby, and he watched the bulky man slowly kneel right in front of Natalie with pools of blood pouring from his head. She shot him? William didn't pay attention if Natalie carried a gun with her, but he suddenly realized the bullet had found its way from somewhere further away. He observed the graveyard cluelessly, and suddenly remembered. The recruits are coming. 

 That was when he saw the sharpshooter Felix Clarke, who stood over the rooftop of one of the enterance towers. William exhaled with relief, this whole horror could finally come to an end with them being here.

 "William, watch it!" Natalie's shocked scream filled William's ears once again, and it didn't take him much longer to realize he had done it again tonight - got himself distracted by worrying for people around him. 

 Another masked man stood on the top of the circle tomb right behind him now - this one carrying a gun. William accepted the fact that he was disadvantaged right away, and made a move to grab the man's gun, though he didn't seem like a type to give up much easily. An ugly fight broke out between them in the blink of an eye - William held the man's wrist as tightly as he could and tried his best to break it, and the masked man put his other hand on his neck, attempting to choke him. The seconds passed agonizingly slow as the man blocked the air reaching to William's lungs, and everything around him started to appear blurry. 

 William refused to give up now, but he knew he had never been sturdy like Connor, never had the physical advantage over his opponent unlike him. He suddenly found himself wishing Connor was here to help him out of this situation, and fight side by side with him like they always did. That was what made them deadly, wasn't it? I bring the dexterity, he brings the strength. And now Connor's in trouble, when I can't reach out. He pushed that thought away from his mind. I have to be there for him. 

 William pushed the man's wrist up with an abrupt move the second the masked man pulled the trigger, causing the bullet to go to waste. "You fucking missed." He grinned, and let his own gun fall from his hand. The clashing sound distracted the man in a heartbeat, and William pulled his walking stick as if he was trying to cut it in two. The grip of the stick detached from the rest, revealing a sharp, curvy blade, which William waited no time to stick in the man's flesh. 

 The masked man stumbled, losing his balance, but somehow managed to grab the neck of William's shirt tightly. His feet slid from the corner of the circle tomb and his body followed next, causing William to lose his balance as well, and face the corner with the two pieces of his walking stick in his hand. William could still hear Natalie's continuous screams, probably trying to warn him, just another sound he couldn't pay attention to. "Let go." He hissed. "Let me fucking go!" 

 But it was no use. "Never." The mask replied. No, not again. Help me, maman, help your son this time. It was nothing more than a useless prayer. 

 For once again, William was falling. 

 The familiar feeling surrounded his mind like a thick fog - the unresistable pull of the deadly, unforgiving gravity took over, and his body obeyed its orders like an Assassin bowed down to his Mentor. It had all happened once, changing William's life forever, dooming him to the wheelchair for years. He looked up, as if he could still see the person who pushed him from the balcony years ago, but it was merely a sick joke of his own mind. It could all be funny, nostalgic even, if it wasn't so damn fucked up in the first place. Soon it will be over. The thick fog in his mind suddenly left itself to a cold river - the stiff ground painted with blood. His mother's screams. Help! Somebody help my son! Why did you kill him Jaimé- 

 Then, it stopped. It did sooner than William could remember, in fact. But surprisingly the blinding pain wasn't there, and neither was the black out. That was when the agonizing realization found him - he lied down on the ground, lungs burning with air, and tried to touch his legs with haste. Nothing. It was as if the power was off, and the light had left its place to a familiar darkness. 

 Paralysis. Just like an old enemy it was back, one that sneakily waited to slap the truth in William's face - that it was never gone in the first place. You think you're the master of illusions, a voice in his head echoed, which belonged to someone he knew too well, your walking is nothing but one big illusion, such a pity that you believe your own tricks now. 

 Get your shit together, he tried to ignore his crowded mind, but the dizziness and the tinnitus were not being helpful. William couldn't help but wonder why Natalie wasn't there to aid him yet, but it was no use trying to call out to her and risk revealing his location. Had the enemy found him, he was good as dead. 

 His breathing got more intense as William tried to move his upper body, yet his body was no different than a heavy piece of meat. People need you now. Don't die here because of some stupid paraplegia. Think reasonably - you need your walking stick back. That was the only answer to this dumb situation he got himself into, the walking stick was out of range.

 With a big effort that got him breaking out a sweat, he pushed his weight to his arms and turned himself around, allowing him to use his arms to move. With slow movements, he tried to carry his weight with his arms, crawling just like a baby. His hands and clothes were getting covered in mud and dirt with his each move as he pushed himself, but he had to push himself forward. If he could make it next to the circle tomb, there was a big chance of Natalie seeing him, and possibly finding his walking stick for him. 

 He heard a few people talking and a deep tone panting, one that he didn't recognize. The masked ones. The one that fell on the ground with him was nowhere to be found, and the thought of him coming back right now when William had no weapons was no different from a nightmare. Don't die here. He put all the strength left in him to his arms to push his dead weight body forward, but it was more challenging with each move. 

 The sound of some people's hasty steps were heard, and it felt like an alarm ring going off to William. The circle was getting closer with his each move, but he stood no chance if they found him here like this. The steps kept getting louder but William couldn't find the energy to turn to his back, and used the last crumb of strength in him to reach forward. There it was - his gun that he dropped from his hand to distract the masked man, not exactly what he hoped to find, but it was better than being completely unarmed. A painful moan left his mouth as he dropped his body on the ground like a sack, and his fingers quickly opened cylinder of the gun to see how many bullets he had left. Just one. 

 The steps got faster and stopped. "We shall meet again." were the words that came out of the darkness. 

 William gasped with fear as he saw them. More than six men with different masks stood right in front of him, each with different lethal weapons. He wasn't going to keep lying to himself about not being afraid anymore, but there was something else - the deep disappointment of dying here as a cripple with one bullet left. With death being this close he froze, and tried to figure out how Assassins once walked right to it without blinking in the name of the Creed. My men don't fear death, they welcome it, and the rewards it brings. It sounded like nothing but cheap, cheesy heroism now. 

 The familiar voice rang in his mind again. If you die here, at least take one of them to hell with you. After all, you're a cripple, and a cripple's death will find you. He held his shaking arm up, and aimed forward to the masked man standing in front of him. I'll see you in hell. 

 What happened after was too fast to perceive, too fast that it pierced through William's sense of reality like a blade. Three shots of a gun were heard from somewhere behind the masked man, and a light illuminated the graveyard as he fell down to his knees, blood pouring everywhere. 

 The white light hurt William's eyes, but he forced himself to look at everything that was happening around him. The masked ones were falling like flies as bullets pierced through each of their bodies, not even getting a chance to defend themselves. William's whole body shook as he squeezed the grip of his own gun, ready to send the only bullet he had left to whoever tried to attack, but not one of them even had the chance to. Who's the one shooting them, he kept asking himself, but failed to see. Are the Assassins here for me? 

 An uncanny silence took over after no masked men were left alive just in a few seconds, William's eyes and ears were wide open as his breathing kept getting louder with terror. "Who the fuck's there?" He yelled like a loony. "I ain't dead yet, I'll send you to hell, you hear me! Reveal yourself, motherfucker, and I'll send you to your cold grave-" 

 With slow steps, a man came out of the darkness into the light timidly, as if he was afraid to startle William. He held a shotgun, which he lowered with each step he took as he got closer to William with an unexpected worry in his eyes. 

 William did not recognize who this man was, but took the time to stare at him carefully while his own gun still stood pointed at him. Now he could see the details better under the white light as the man approached closer - he was probably in his fifties, and had a very symmetrical face that William felt like he had seen before, yet couldn't tell where or when. He kept staring at his colorful eyes, the scar mark on his left brow, and black hair that he tied in a ponytail. The man took his time to examine William as well, with the worried glance in his colorful eyes. 

 "That was the last of them." He spoke with a deep, kind voice and a very thick accent resembling an Irish one, but William could still hear the terror in there somewhere. "You're safe now." 

 "Who the fuck are you?"

 The man hesitated at first, probably considering his next step. He cleaned his throat before speaking. "You're bleeding from your head." Then, he nodded like he was trying to convince William. "Put your gun down so I can help you." 

 William's eyes wandered around the man's black uniform and found the answer to the question that ate his mind for minutes. A broche of a red cross with even edges wobbled when the man moved slightly. Templar. But the possibility shook his mind and filled it with more unanswered questions. "How about I blow you in the fucking head?" 

 "I'm not here to hurt you." The man's voice sounded somehow desperate now, as if he was eager to make William believe in what he said – which illogically sounded convenient considering how he had just hunted down The Good Samaritan soldiers in cold blood. But why would he do it? Why would he save me, like every damn Templar doesn't know my face? 

 "Then why are you here?" William asked with a cold tone. 

 "I'm afraid we both have been played." The man tried to explain as he looked away shyly, and with a rushing manner, pulled something out of the shotgun's case he had wrapped around his back. "I think you need this." 

 William tried to hold it together and do his best to not act like a crazy person would as the man pulled his walking stick out. He couldn't speak another word, all he could do was to watch the man's every move. But his body was in range of the walking stick now since the man held it close to him, and he could slightly feel the fuzzy sensation of tingling in his legs. The power was coming back on.  

 The man took one last step towards William and slowly held out the walking stick for him to grab. In return, William lowered his gun with slow movements and grabbed the handle of his walking stick, which thankfully stood undamaged. He can still hurt you, something inside him kept whispering, but he knew there would be no point, not after he saved him. 

 As soon as he touched the stick his whole body started to ache, and he felt the electrifying sensation taking over his muscles when he stood up. He put his gun to the small pocket of the leather holster around his neck, and unintentionally touched his forehead. Blood was slowly spilling out of his eyebrow to his cheekbones, reaching to his chin and shirt. 

 William gave a questioning look to the man one last time, not knowing what to say, a thank you would be proper, perhaps? Would that make him the first Assassin ever to be saved by a Templar? What was that if not embarrasing for a Master Assassin? Confusion blurred his mind, and before he could even think of what to say to him, his lips formed one word. "Connor..." 

 "He's okay. So are the other Assassins." The man answered with a gentle tone. "Come with me." 

 He followed the man out of the circle tomb to an open field filled with dead masked men, where his eyes found Natalie next to someone William recognized - with her threatening gaze and hateful expression stood Violet da Costa, another Templar. Both Natalie and Violet seemed to be in bad shape, it was possible that they had been fighting each other while William crawled around. 

 "Ms. da Costa. And... Ms. Ivanova, was it?" The man spoke to them calmly, as Violet's hateful gaze turned to William from Natalie. William gave Violet a look without any particular expression, he was too confused to feel anything about seeing her messed hairbun and ruined makeup. "I hope you both are feeling a little better. Thank you again for agreeing to put your weapons down." 

 So somehow he had convinced them to. How the hell did he manage to convince a Templar and Assassin to stop fighting one another? It was all getting too unbelievable to be true. 

 Without saying anything he approached to Natalie with aching muscles and pain, only to see Natalie was hurt as well, her arm was bleeding slowly and the dark red liquid had covered her whole outfit. Still, she didn't hesitate when William wrapped his arms around and embraced her with some kind of relief. "You okay?" Natalie asked with a husky voice, sounding like she too was confused. William's only response was a quick nod. 

 "We need to..." Violet da Costa spoke, but hesitated to continue, her dark brown eyes glowed with spite. She stopped to look at the Assassins for a second, then with a demanding voice, she kept going. "We should probably secure the Sage and stabilize him now. We can't let them hurt him, you realize that, right?" 

 Connor. I can't let them have him, William recalled his painful scream. What did they do to him?

 "Don't you dare touch Connor." He called out to Violet, who ironically rolled her eyes at him when she heard his words. "What did you do to him?" 

 Violet sighed and walked towards William with fast steps, still holding a gun in her hand. "You're fucking stupid, did you know that? Why would we need to hurt your piece of shit, pile of muscle Assassin in the first place?" 

 Natalie and the man both hurried to avoid them fighting each other, and stood between them. "Calm your tits, eh, sweetheart." Natalie winked, knowing it annoyed her. "Let's not go back where we started." 

"I will poke your eye out and feed you with it-"

 "Ms. da Costa, please." The man intervened, but it didn't make a big difference as Violet kept getting herself closer to Natalie. "Calm down, Ms. da Costa." 

 "...you dare wink me again you stupid fucking bitch-"

 "Violet, please!" The man raised his voice at last, silencing her. He continued with a determined, growling tone in his voice. "We can go ahead and keep fighting each other all night, just keep in mind who benefits from that." 

 William thought about those words, they made sense, even though he didn't like accepting it. So that was why that man helped me. And I don't even have the slightest idea who he is. But still, it didn't quite answer any of his questions. Suddenly, their eyes met again, this time William made a small gesture with his head to approve him. 

 "Sorry for the inconvenience. My apologies to both of you." The man spoke directly to William and Natalie now, his thick accent more obvious this time. "I assure you, your friend Connor is safe." 

 William nodded again, squinting his eyes with confusion. "So the Sage?" was all he could come up with. 

 A complex expression spread over the man's face, one that was hard to read. "Follow me, this way."  

 Jennifer Hope. William's mind anxiously rushed to the thought of her and the countless ways she could've suffered tonight, all because William couldn't predict the Templars would be here to cause chaos. Could it be you? He found himself wishing for her to be unharmed, home and safe in her bed. 

 No one spoke as they followed the man among the graves until they finally saw a few people with flashlights standing next to the exit. William could see some familiar faces, but his eyes were hungrily searching for one person only. What if they hurt her? The thought suddenly made his chest feel hollow. That curious smile, never to be seen again. No, he refused to believe it. 

 Another pair of brown eyes found his before he could return the curious stares around him. He felt a huge weight shifting from his shoulders as he saw Connor standing in front of him, only with a few bruises, nothing too serious. Yet Connor's face had a shape he couldn't recognize - he was shocked and scared naturally, like everyone else was, but the wild, untamed look was a surprise. William knew him too well to figure out, but the thought terrified him. 

 The rest of the Templars drew their guns and started calling them out as soon as they saw William and Natalie approach, but William couldn't care less. Assassins approaching! Stay where you are! , their shouts merged with one another, creating only a buzz in William's brain. He passed Violet da Costa and the man guiding them, and faintly heard the man's voice behind him, ordering the Templars to drop their weapons. Every sound and vision left itself into a pile of blur, slowly blocking all but Connor. 

 He ran towards him and hugged Connor without a second thought, whose body was shaking like a leaf. The buzz in William's mind stopped when the silence took over, but he could still feel their eyes staring from afar, watching them hug. 

 Connor didn't move or speak for a while, and his shivering got no better - William held him as if he wanted to protect the huge guy from something he didn't even know himself. All he could feel was the harsh movement of Connor's heavy breathing, which left itself to a cathartic crying in a second. "I'm right here. I'm right here for you now." William whispered to him as Connor hugged him back for a brief moment, and then pushed him gently right after. 

 "I don't know how... it happened, I was, he just..." He managed to gabble a few words, leaving William in nothing but more confusion. 

 "Who?" He replied with a commanding tone, watching the tears fall from Connor's brown eyes. When was the last time William saw him crying? "Who hurt you like this, Connor?"

 "He... out of nowhere..." Connor's glance locked in somewhere far, right next to where Templars were standing. Then he continued with a cracking voice, and spoke whenever he could breathe between his cathartic hiccups. "He said I killed him, William, and I did... I know I killed him." 

 "Killed who, Connor?" 

 His shivering finger pointed out a man who lied on the ground bare naked with his hands and feet cuffed behind him, blinking his glassy eyes with no expression like some kind of a creepy robot. William took a deep look at this man on the ground with his long gray hair all messed up, bleeding nose, and bruises. He must had strangely missed him in all that chaos. 

 What he saw terrified him like nothing else did tonight. Though he seemed a lot different, William had recognized the man on the ground. 

 "He's back, William. And he's back to kill me." 

 It wasn't Jennifer Hope, that Sage.

 Because William was directly looking at Haytham Kenway himself. 

Chapter Text

 Connor couldn't remember the last time he felt this vulnerable. 

 He had seen loss and happiness, death of the innocent and the sinful, the unending thirst mankind had for blood for all these years he spent as an Assassin – yet nothing shocked him more than seeing Haytham Kenway's pale face in the darkness, waiting to hunt him down. 

 Rake'niha.

 The word filled a void in him that Connor hadn't realized existed – a father's support and love he craved as a child, which Izar did his best to remedy all by himself. Yet now the wound was bleeding out and creating holes in his soul, his mind blurred with a million questions. 

 Even when your kind appears to triumph... still, we rise again. This is why the Templars will never be destroyed, Connor heard Haytham's last words in his head so clearly, as if he spoke them to him right now. Yet the man stood motionless like a puppet, it somehow seemed like his body wasn't under his own control. Not blinking once, his gray eyes never moved elsewhere – they were locked directly into Connor's. 

 What was Haytham doing here? Connor had prepared himself for every worst case scenerio when he made his plans – brutal bombings, a bloodbath, anything else. He had spent his time worrying about everything, planning every possible escape route, all for a big nothing. And now, he felt exactly like the fool The Good Samaritan took him for. 

 My father is back from the dead. 

 Even though the man stood still as a robot, he was still charming in a way, with his long gray hair down, and his sharp cheekbones. He looked somehow older than Connor could remember - but what would he know? The Grand Master of the Templar Order. Was it still him? Or some kind of a robotic replica of him? How did the Good Samaritan bring him back from the cold grave Connor had put him in to in a different lifetime? 

R e̴̽̅̈́̍̚ m̸͇̜̯̒ è̵͚̺̯̌̌̏̒ m̸̫͓͗̉̋ b̷ ȅ̶̪̦̱̞̲̾̿ r. 

 An uncanny voice echoed in Connor's mind unexpectedly, giving him tinnitus right away. Before Connor could tell it was over - he couldn't figure out if it was heard outside too, or if it was simply a deceit of his own unreliable mind. Remember what, he questioned. Remember... He pushed his mind to do so, yet nothing rang a bell. The only memory he had with the man standing naked in front of him right now was the last time Connor saw him – when Haytham was trying to beat him to death. 

 Still, that uncanny voice somehow managed to bring Haytham Kenway to life from the mannequin he was a few seconds ago. Connor stood frozen, even though his brain ordered him to move urgently and flee, his muscles failed to obey that command. He felt the air suddenly turn into ash inside his lungs as he watched Haytham's every move - from the unnatural way the man's body turned into a normal one like an actual human being, to his first blinks, as if he just woke up from a long slumber. 

 Gently, Connor pushed his fist forward which activated the mechanism of his hidden blade, and the deadly weapon revealed itself between his fingers. Haytham started looking around curiously as if he couldn't really figure out where exactly he was, and that small pause gave Connor to hide his gun inside the holster. Not this time, he tried to convince himself, I should act smarter. He is a Sage, and so am I.  

 Haytham's hostile glance found Connor's eyes in a heartbeat.  

 Connor wasn't really sure how he could forget that spiteful shape his father's face turned itself into, with his eyes narrowed and tensed jaw. Pure hatred, he thought at first, but then realized it wasn't exactly true. Vengeance. He remembered the last memory we had with one another.

 "Father-" Connor's voice was weak and crumbling. "Haytham," He corrected himself, with a clear tone. "Ple- Please listen, before you make a move." 

 Haytham didn't speak for a second and took his time staring at Connor's face, probably trying to figure out every single detail of him that was so different from the last time he saw his son. Connor tried to visualize how his own face must seem to his father who had been dead for at least two hundred years. His hair was longer, the clothes he wore were nothing like Haytham had ever seen, and the gun he just held in his hand was too alien for him, considering those ancient pistols from Haytham's time. Great. Haytham probably thought he was in a time machine or something. 

 "What is this if not hell..." Words left Haytham's mouth with such emptiness ‐ as if he was in shock, or as if he was trying to wake himself up from a vivid nightmare. "Where else one faces his killer?" 

 "Just listen and don't make any sudden moves or I'll have to-" 

 Haytham stepped forward timidly towards Connor, the spiteful expression on his face was getting more intense with each step he took. Connor unintentionally reached for his gun, he couldn't help but regret putting it back in the holster now as Haytham got closer. 

 "I'll explain everything, I swear." He tried to sound reasonable, but his shaking voice wasn't being helpful. "Stop. Don't come any closer." 

 "I don't understand, I..." He paused. "I was dead." 

 "You were. So was I." Connor tried to get rid of the heaviness around his throat, but it was too hard when Haytham stood in front of him, speaking like an innocent child. "Yet here we are." 

 "You look exactly like him..." Haytham murmured. "You are him..." His hateful gaze slowly turned into a painful one, with a small glimpse of confusion hidden behind those icy eyes. He stopped, now he was closer to Connor more than ever. 

 "I am..." Connor felt the vulnerability taking over his body once again. His body started to tremble, but it wasn't because of the cold of the night. "...your son." 

 "My son..." Haytham's expression was unreadable, it was funny how Connor had always thought of himself to be perceptive - yet now there was no way to guess what Haytham Kenway, his own father, was going through. "My boy." 

 Connor nodded. "Let me help you now. We must leave-" 

 Haytham's punch was abruptly heavy. It shook Connor's whole body and forced him to kneel. The pain on his stomach made his eyes tear up, as he cursed himself for being too naive to trust Haytham in the first place. That's your weakness, the voice inside his head hissed.

 "My son who murdered me!" Haytham's voice was harsh and loud, and full of hatred. He didn't give Connor the time to get up and defend himself, and aggresively grabbed his throat, choking him with all the strength he had. "My son who stabbed me... in the neck!" 

 Connor put one of his hands around Haytham's bare neck, and the other to his mouth as he tried to push Haytham away from himself. You can't kill a Sage. That was the sick joke, wasn't it? The Good Samaritan was two steps ahead of them, and this was one hell of a way to start chaos. "Get... the fuck... away from... me." He gnashed his teeth before Haytham punched his face harsly, causing a crash sound.

 The impact felt more intense on Connor's face this time and a painful moan left his lips unintentionally. He tried to calculate the damage, and quickly figured it was possible that Haytham's punch broke his jaw. It was getting harder to breathe while Haytham sat on the top of him and squeezed his throat, but Connor forced himself to be smart and not hurt him. Don't be a pawn in the Good Samaritan's game, don't be... his plaything. He pushed himself to come up with a solution to get rid of Haytham without damaging him.

 "My son... who is a damned fool..." 

 Connor! Connor where are you! William's terrified shout filled his ears, he must have heard Connor's painful sounds, wherever the hell he was. Still, Connor wished William to find him and help him out of this messed up situation. Only he could.

 In the blink of an eye, a gunshot and a buzz were heard - first, Connor thought of William and hoped he didn't shoot Haytham, but it didn't make sense considering how further away his voice was heard in the darkness. Before he could tell, Haytham's ferocious growlings started to slow down, and his hands around Connor's neck loosened.

 What the hell was happening to him? Haytham also seemed shocked and troubled, but something else was there inside those icy eyes – they started to throb vaguely, like a drunk's or a sleepy person's eyes would. "What... What have you done to me this time you... you damn..." 

 Poison, Connor thought, someone found me. Yet the idea didn't relieve him as he thought it would, instead terrified him even more considering how none of the Assassins used any kind of poisonous weapons. 

 "Haven't you done enough you murderer... you..." Haytham was clearly dizzy now, and Connor took the advantage to push him aside and stand up. He watched the man holding his head as he struggled to keep his eyes open. He rushed to hold Haytham and tried to lie him down on the ground, but Haytham still tried to push him away. "I trusted you... I had faith that you... Look what you... have done..."

 "Who is there!" Connor shouted into the darkness. "Who shot him! I'll kill you!" He pulled his gun in a rushed manner and scanned around the darkness, nothing. 

 "Don't panic." An unknown voice was heard right behind him. Connor turned around and saw a man with a riffle, but before he could react the man put his weapon down. "Don't shoot. Don't shoot, you hear me?" 

"Who the hell are you?" Connor shouted, examining the man in front of him. In no time, he saw a red broche hanging on his uniform, one that was cross-shaped. It was no different than seeing a rattlesnake. "God damn Templar. You've poisoned a Sage, and one of your own!" 

 "It's not poison." The man explained calmly before he got closer to Connor. "Not the way you think. Just a sleep dart. It was the safest way to get him to stop hurting you and anyone else." 

 Connor was even more confused while the man approached, he watched him taking slow but confident steps. Even though Connor could name every single dangerous Templar troubling them, he had no idea who this guy was, and it made things a lot worse. Still, Connor couldn't help but examine him, as if it would suddenly ring a bell in his mind - long, black hair tied in a ponytail, black uniform and colorful eyes. It was no use - he had never seen him before. 

 "Did he hurt you?" The man asked, and Connor realized he had a slight accent as he continued with a sterile tone. "I was scared I couldn't make it on time." 

 On time? "He..." His gaze lowered and found Haytham's shaking eyelids, probably somewhere between sleep and awakeness. "I should've probably seen it coming." 

 "He can be a pain in the ass." The man bended over, and there was a brief change of expression on Haytham's face. 

 "You..." Haytham murmured, as if he knew who this man was. "It's you... Sha..." But his eyes couldn't resist the sleep dart's poison lingering in his blood before he could finish his words. 

 "It's nice to see you again, Grand Master." The man stood up, and offered a hand to Connor, which he refused. "You stay here to guard him, alright? My team is on the way. I have to go help others out of this mess." 

 "I don't trust you." 

 The man paused. "That's what got us both walking into a trap." 

 He disappeared in the pitch darkness of the night in a few seconds, leaving Connor with unconscious Haytham Kenway and thousands of questions in his mind. 

 The rest of the night was a bit blurry, everything happened so fast, almost too fast for Connor to react after everything he had seen. The man returned with Natalie and Violet da Costa - another Templar enemy. Yet Connor couldn't speak a word when people started gathering up and asking questions after they noticed Haytham on the ground. Loud noises and lights. People shouting swear words and insults at each other. None of it made any sense. 

 Soon, William returned. 

 Connor could see how shaken he was as well, bleeding from his head. He couldn't exactly remember how much time had passed, could be hours. Where had he been? And who had injured him like that? Soon William rushed and opened his arms to hug him, his embrace made Connor realize how intense his own body was shaking. He couldn't tell how long they stood that way, but Connor could feel something inside him boiling like a volcano when he remembered Haytham's words. I had faith in you. 

 Seconds passed, yet there was no way to stop the tears coming out of Connor's eyes like a wild river. He could hear William's voice telling him that he was there for him, but nothing could be louder than Haytham's words inside his head. My son who is a damned fool. My son who stabbed me in the neck. My son who murdered me.  

 William kept asking him some questions, but there was no way to get his thoughts together. His mind was desperately trying to adjust this new reality he found himself in, yet kept failing miserably. 

 "Who hurt you like this?" William sounded shocked, but still demanded an answer. 

 Connor gabbled a few words. Sadly, none of them were the proper key to unlock William's questions. He tried to explain, but no matter how hard he tried, Connor just couldn't get the words together. Soon, William saw the man lying on the ground unconsciously and didn't need explanation any further. 

 Soon, every sound and voice merged into one another and created a hellish noise, sounds of the Assassins and the Templars arguing with one another. It got so bad that all Connor wanted to do was to get in the car and drive until no one could follow him. My father is back. It's nice to see you again Grand Master. He couldn't distinguish between the voices inside his mind from the sounds outside. Who are you to tell me what the fuck to do? You attacked me first, stupid bitch! Calm down, people. He could've been killed. All of us could. The Good Samaritan played us. How the hell could we know?

 The loud noise of a gunshot startled Connor and pulled him from the hurricane of thoughts and voices he got caught to. He saw the ponytailed Templar man that helped him holding a gun in his hand, he must've been the one to fire it. 

 "It's no use to bicker on what happened!" He shouted as everyone fell silent. "The more you argue, the more you fight each other," He paused. "It only helps one cause and all of you know what that is." 

 Connor listened to him carefully, for some reason he got the odd feeling that he had seen that man's face before. Or had he? Maybe he was just mistaking him for someone else. 

 "This is why the Good Samaritan is always ahead of us, plotting our and our loved one's deaths as we are blinded with our hate for each other." The man continued with determination and anger. "Stop this nonsense if you feel like staying alive." 

 "So what the hell do we do now? Natalie's voice was weak, but Connor was glad she had the guts to face the elephant in the room. "Act like nothing happened and leave?" 

 "You will do so." The Templar man answered her question. "We will take care of the Sage and figure out what to do next with him. Until then, go home. Treat your wounded." 

 "Sounds like a hell of a plan." Natalie spoke louder now. "What happens when this fucker traps us next time like two scorpions in a box? Say we avoided killing each other with a bit of luck today, could we still do it tomorrow?" 

 "Ms. Ivanova, we're open to better ideas. Whenever you have them, make sure you let us know." Another voice answered her question sarcastically. It was Otso Berg, one of the high ranking Templars. Connor got surprised when he saw him, though it was only natural, since his mind wasn't clearly in a healthy state. "Until then." 

 Before leaving, Connor realized the Templar man who helped him was staring directly at William. He couldn't understand if that had anything to do with whatever happened to William, he was too tired to think. 

 No one spoke as they got inside the car. Connor must've slept a while after aimlessly watching the empty roads, it was Natalie who woke him up when they arrived at the Gray House. With slow steps, he walked next to William as they got closer to the door, he was still dizzy with all the damage Haytham caused. 

 Izar was in a pretty bad state. There was no doubt he waited all night, and apparently fell asleep on the table with his glasses on, like he always did whenever he worked for too long. The sounds of their steps woke him up immediately. "Thank goodness, I was so worried." were the only words he spoke, it seemed like he had more in mind, but he quickly gathered himself. "Go to medical, all of you. We'll speak after you rest." 

 But instead of doing that, Connor's feet dragged him outside to the garden's gate, where a passage to the forest was. 

 "Connor, where are you going?" He heard Izar behind him. "You are hurt, come back here right now!" 

 "Let him go," William spoke, trying to calm Izar down. "He needs some time on his own. He'll be back and you know it." 

 Slowly, all the sounds melted into the night, and the forest welcomed him like his true home.

 After all, he was the forsaken. 

Chapter Text

 "Good news. You have no head trauma or a crack on your skull." Irina stared at the x-ray shots above her purple glasses. "And your bones seem to be in good shape. The painkillers will help with your aches." She gave William another captious look. "You'll be just fine." 

 William sighed. "Why do I have the feeling that there is more you wanna say?" 

 Irina put the x-rays on the desk, took out her glasses with a quick move, and stared at William with one of her eyebrows up. William was almost too familiar with this expression, he had seen it for years - Irina would inevitably wear it like a mask whenever William outsmarted her in the slightest way. 

 "There are things even a magical walking stick can't heal, Will." 

 "Are we still talking about my physical health?" He asked, too tired for an another speech. "If not, I'm drained, Irina." 

 She didn't speak any further, but William already knew she was suspecting him and Natalie were up to something after their conversation in the library. Irina never liked it when things got out of her control - but there was nothing she could do about it at this point. It was kind of odd to see her suddenly caring about her daughter and trying to be included in Natalie's life, but her daughter's Assassin duties were out of Irina's reach. Must be annoying to accept, William couldn't help but think, not being able to control things. Don't I know. 

 "Just get some rest." She ordered. "And tell Natalie to be here for the stitches." 

 "Thank you. Have a good night." William silently left the emergency room and shut the door behind him. He turned around with a slight dizziness taking over him, one that was probably caused by the damage of his fall, only to see Natalie in a nurse outfit standing right in front of the x-ray room.

 "They got us pretty fucked, huh?" Her voice was sarcastic as usual, but she couldn't hide how terrified she was after all that happened. Her wounded arm was covered with some bandages soaked with the dark color of her dry blood, and apparently stitches would be necessary. Her blonde hair was now messier than ever, and she probably didn't have time to clean her make-up, which was all over the place. 

 "Your mom's been asking for you." William took a look at her scar, suddenly feeling guilty for not being able to protect her properly. "Violet did that to you?" 

 Natalie didn't answer his question and examined the sticking plaster William had on his eyebrow. She changed the subject with an annoyed tone in her voice. "What does Irina want?" 

 "To help you with your stitches, Nat. Jesus. You both are freaking me out with your family drama." 

 Natalie was definitely upset, she lowered her gaze to the blue hospital shoes she was wearing, instead of saying anything else. Was it his attitude that annoyed her, or her mother's sudden act of care? "I can handle my own damn stitches." She murmured, raising her eyebrows.  

 "It wouldn't kill you to get a little help every now and then." 

 "What the fuck are you talking about, Will? I don't owe her shit. You know what I really want to know though? How it occured to her after all these years that she is, in fact, a mother!" Natalie raised her voice, which in return, William shrugged at her misplaced anger. 

 "At least you still have your mother by your side, Natalie." He walked straight to the elevator without even waiting for an answer. "Get some rest and find me some stuff I asked for, starting with that Templar man, please. I hate it when we're so easily defeated." 

 The elevator's doors closed, and the silence felt like heaven to William's buzzing ears. Still, it annoyed him to leave Natalie all alone to face her issues by herself, but his dizziness was no joke, and it wasn't like he could be there for everyone all the time. 

 He walked slowly to his room, and realized how tired his body was as he unlocked the door. Somehow, inside his head, he could still feel the pull of gravity. What a fucking shitshow. 

 With slow moves, he started taking off his clothes - his bloody jacket and shirt that needed to go straight into the washing machine, and the trousers with mud stains from all the crawling. That was the last of them, the man's Irish accent echoed in his brain, you're safe now. 

 William headed straight into shower and stood under the hot water with his head full of thoughts. Truth was, he had never met a Templar that didn't try to kill him instantly before, let alone saving his life. Who was that man? And how come William knew absolutely nothing of him? Even though he was grateful to that man in a strange way, he still felt annoyed by his presence, knowing that it was childish to do so. 

 The hot water helped his tense muscles relax, yet he realized Irina could be right - there were in fact, things even a magical walking stick couldn't heal. He could remember those dark years of being in the wheelchair, constantly relying on someone else to help him take a shower, hoping for Izar to come up with a crazy solution that had never been tried before. It was all he wanted - to walk again, to be his own person, to be whole and live the life that was stolen from him. Once, at least, that was all he cared about. All those times felt so easy now. 

 He got out of the shower once he realized there was no end to the hurricane of questions he kept asking himself. There was just no way to escape them, was it? He yearned to stop thinking about anything for just a second - what a relief it would be to let go of Natalie's mother issues, Connor being a Sage and his father appearing out of nowhere, the possibility of Izar keeping secrets, and the Good Samaritan breathing down his neck for a little while. 

 He put on some comfortable clothes and laid down on his bed - though his body was aching, William knew his mind wouldn't allow him to get some rest. His hand reached for the pack of cigarettes while he tried to escape the questions and find something else to hold on to. 

 But instead of grabbing a cigarette, his mind reminded him of something else, something that slipped away from his thoughts in all that chaos. Funny, he thought when it occured to him, life still gives me small surprises while the world's burning down to the ground.

 He put the cigarettes away, and grabbed the phone standing on the table next to him. It was a fake one, of course, one that he bought spesifically for this duty, so why was he so curious about Jennifer Hope's text in the first place? 

 His fingers ran through the screen and found the text message, now he could read it as many times as he liked with no one being around him to ask any dumb questions. That brought some kind of relief, at least. He read each word slowly, and imagined them coming out of Jennifer's mouth. 

 – I don't know how to thank you, William Aguillard. But I have millions of questions before I get there. First one: HOW?? I've been looking for Sub Superficie Terrae for months before meeting you, then it appears in your hands like a rabbit in the hat. Second one: well, the second one's a bit personal. -your new friend Jennifer Hope. 

  William couldn't tell why exactly he was smiling like an idiot teenager, but he didn't make any efforts to stop himself. The world's burning down to the ground, he kept reminding himself, so what? 

 He couldn't figure out if he should reply the text or not when he checked the time: 02:24. But his fingers surprised him even though his mind told him to wait until the morning. 

 – Abracadabra. Sorry for texting so late, it's been a crazy day. The book is a lucky coincidence, let's say. It's the personal question I'm curious about. So happy to be your new friend. - W.A.

 William sent the text, hoping not to come across as a total jerk. He didn't quite know how to handle this whole situation - or maybe he wasn't expecting Jennifer Hope to be such a nice person in the first place. For a second, he wondered if it was truly his duty that made him write this text, gift her a rare book and share a card trick or two with her. Was it all because of a simple Brotherhood task? Why wouldn't he choose the usual, the easiest way - wouldn't it be better and safer for everyone? More questions he couldn't get answers to filled his brain like an inescapable fog. And William just couldn't tell why. 

 The phone buzzed unexpectedly, making the clouds disappear from William's mind. 

 – It's okay. It's been the craziest day for me too. 

 So she was awake, after all. 

 Still, in an absurd way, he wanted to know what had happened that could be so crazy to keep her up at night. Something inside Willliam wanted to reach her out and offer help when he remembered the Good Samaritan chasing him in the darkness. 

 – Can't sleep? 

 It didn't take long to get an answer. 

 – I don't think it's a good idea for me. What's keeping you up so late? Not magic tricks, I guess. 

 William chuckled quietly.  

 — Wish it was. Isn't it a little late for thesis work? 

  The reply was late - Jennifer kept typing, just didn't hit the send button. William started to think it was a mistake to ask her, while she was already suffocated with the heavy weight of all she had to do. You fool, he bit his lips, suddenly angry with himself. Stop talking about the thesis, fucking stop already. 

 After an agonizingly slow passing minute, Jennifer's reply was a surprise. 

 – Hey, I know this is probably a weird question and it's super late, and I totally understand if you don't want to, but can I call you? I just really need someone to talk to.

 William felt something inside his stomach, something he couldn't properly name just yet. All of a sudden the horrifying night he had been through somehow felt like it wasn't such a burden to carry. How odd. He got out of his bed and started wandering around his room slowly. Now that his brain was working properly, some possibilities rushed to his mind. What was upsetting her so much that she needed to be distracted from it so eagerly? He was quick to send a reply. 

 – You can call me anytime you want. 

 It took a while for his phone to ring. William could somewhat picture Jennifer gathering her courage to press the call button, making herself mentally ready to step forward. At least he found himself doing so, before taking the call. 

 "Hey, Professor." William tried to be as cheerful as he could once he picked up the call, but he instantly knew his voice couldn't hide how tired he was. 

 Jennifer giggled in a soft way quietly. That was all it took to make William smile, the musical timbre of her laugh. "Oh no. I pray I don't become one of those."

 "Now that's bad news, really," William continued in a friendly way. "The students would be lucky to have you." What the fuck, he thought to himself, did that come out too weird? He most definitely didn't mean to sound corny... it was just the sleep deprivation that fogged his mind. 

  Jennifer paused briefly, and spoke with a quieter, darker tone. "I'm not so sure about that." 

 William didn't speak for a few seconds, his first thought was to blame himself for acting like an ass, instead of friendly. Seriously, what the fuck was he thinking, the magic tricks and abracadabras and the book and all that? But that thought quickly vanished away when he realized Jennifer probably wouldn't want to call and ask to talk to him in the middle of the night, had she thought he was a total jerk. No, perhaps it isn't about you being weird at all. Or maybe she still thinks you're an asshole and called you anyway. 

 "Do you want to talk about it?" He asked shyly, realizing the fact that this was the first time Jennifer willingly let herself show some vulnerability around him after the horrible incident. Somehow, it made him feel more guilty for everything, for being an Assassin, for lying to her face every second, for everything.  

 She replied after a while, her voice had never sounded so broken. "If I could, I would tell you all, William." She sighed deeply, William couldn't tell if she was crying or not, from the way she spoke so quietly. Though, even the thought of Jennifer crying was enough to break his heart. "Have you ever felt like... like your mind was an actual trap?" Jennifer's voice cracked even though she whispered, as if she was confessing a sin. "Like you... can't tell if you're sane or not?" 

 William tried to remember each word she spoke to find a deeper meaning behind them, but whatever Jennifer was going through was clearly out of his reach. "I have," He could come up with only one answer. "When the doctors told me I wouldn't be able to walk again." 

 His answer felt too bitter to be comforting, so he continued with a rushed manner. "But that didn't end up being true, Jennifer. Whatever it is, I promise, it gets better in time. You..." William knew he was probably going to embarrass himself awfully, but the urge to comfort Jennifer stood out stronger than he thought. "Look, you don't have to have all the answers right now, or have it all figured out over night. It takes time, but you've got this." He hesitated, surprised with his own words. "And I'm happy just getting to know you."

 "Me too... I mean, the feeling's mutual." She sounded a bit better, but it was obvious that she had been crying, from the way her voice kept cracking constantly as she spoke. "Life's lighter than you think, right?" She reminded William of the note he wrote on the card inside the book, which he completely forgot about. 

 William couldn't help but giggle. "Right." 

 "It's so odd, you know," She let out a sigh. "It wasn't like everything was super great before, but I feel like my life started shifting the night we met." 

 "In a bad way?" William asked, and cursed himself once again for being just too dumb. How could he expect her to disagree, when he couldn't even protect her from being chased in the dark? 

 "In an... unpredictable way. I'm really not sure yet." Jennifer clarified. "No, maybe I shouldn't have put it that way. Meeting you is the silver lining in all this fuss." She sighed, before she confessed. "No, it's just that... Something about me is different, I can feel it, but I'm not sure what... anyway. So, what is it that keeps you awake?"

 Silver lining. Those two words made William bite inside his cheek with a sense of remorse. This is all wrong, the voice inside his head kept reminding him, it's been wrong from the beginning. William knew it already, but it never felt like a slap in the face until now. So what is it that made you pick her call up in the middle of the night? 

  "Oh, nothing to worry about," William tried to explain. "It was a pretty rough day, plus, insomnia and I go way back, so..." 

 "Oh no, that sucks." Jennifer uttered indulgently. "And... Is there a reason for that?" 

 "For the bad day, or the insomnia?" William asked, almost too naively. 

 Jennifer chuckled with that quiet tone again. "Both, I guess?" 

 William suddenly didn't know what to say, he never thought he'd need to explain anyone outside of the Assassin Brotherhood how messed up everything was - and the truth was, he couldn't even remember the last time anything like this happened, as well. He felt as if he wasn't the Master Assassin, or someone people looked up to for a second, but simply that eleven year old boy in the wheelchair. That poor little boy with no family, who desperately needed a caretaker, and some sleep. 

 "I... I don't know..." He gabbled awkwardly. "I suppose... life keeps reminding me the things I haven't healed properly from lately, if that makes sense. Like being disabled, or... my mother's passing..." 

 Oh fuck, William sighed as he rolled his eyes with frustration, why the fuck did you say that? He hadn't planned to talk about his personal life with Jennifer Hope at all - but somehow, words were spilling from his mouth without his intention as if he had a peculiar desire to share things with her. 

 "Oh," Jennifer suddenly sounded bitter. "I'm so sorry for your loss, William, I had no idea."

 "It's okay, Jennifer, don't be sad." He spoke right away. "You're too kind." 

 "Did she pass away recently, or..." Jennifer asked, hesitantly.  

 "No, it's been almost fifteen years." William looked away, making this conversation about himself didn't feel comfortable somehow. Why, he thought, is it because this is the only thing you haven't been lying to her about? 

 "That must've been so hard for you as a child." Jennifer was still unsure, probably considering if she should ask more questions or not. William knew she wanted to know more about him ever since she came back to Cirque Hypnosia, but the voice inside his head kept reminding him that he wasn't deserving of her attention, anyway. 

 "Sorry, if I'm - " William first cursed himself for gabbling more nonsense, and once again for finding himself in this situation in the first place. "...I didn't mean to upset you or anything..." 

 "No, don't say that, please." Jennifer interrupted him. "I asked first, anyway." 

 There was a silence between them, one that William didn't quite know how to handle, plus, his exhaustion wasn't being helpful. 

 "Isn't it surreal?" Jennifer spoke hesitantly with a shy tone in her voice. "I mean, a week ago, we were just strangers. Now it feels like we're old friends, talking at midnight." 

 Hearing those words were strangely soothing for William, maybe this was what he needed - an old friend he just met. "I was thinking the same thing." His smile was unexpected. "Or maybe we're just two people who needed a conversation late at night." 

 That thought seemed to cheer Jennifer up all of a sudden. She let out a small giggle again, filling William's ears with that same, one of a kind musical timbre. "That's more likely," She giggled a little more, almost forcing William to finally admit the fact that he liked making her laugh. "But hey - I have a bigger question and you can't run away from this one." 

 "I'm all ears, Professor Hope." 

 "How did you find Sub Superficie Terrae? I've been searching for it for months and... How did you even memorize the title in first place? I mentioned it only one time -" Jennifer uttered in a surprised way, but her voice had a slight tone of suspicion in it. "I can't find any logical answers for these questions no matter how hard I think. I know it sounds... crazy, but I can't help but imagine this is all a big magic trick, and I'm the rabbit in the hat." 

 She's a Sage, William kept reminding himself as Jennifer spoke. What was it that note from the Templars say about her? I knew she was a Sage right away. She might lead us to some answers. Of course she was a bit cunning, and of course the Templars knew it before us. 

 "Well, when you put it that way," William replied, in a humorous way. "But like I said, the book is nothing but a lucky coincidence." 

 "How so?" Jennifer asked. "It's one hell of a lucky coincidence." 

 "Well..." He began, with that slight humorous tone still audible in his voice. "You see, I was raised by a really unique man after my mother's passing. A friend of the family." William didn't know what Izar's reaction would be had he heard the conversation right now, but still, he had a peculiar smile on his face. He probably shouldn't have talked about this at all... probably. "He's an engineer, originally. Harvard graduate, top of his class, who also happens to collect manuscripts and rare historical books for years. I've known about Sub Superficie Terrae for years, thanks to him." 

 "So... you decided to borrow it? For me?" Jennifer was quite shocked. "For a stranger you just met, I mean." 

 "It's not doing any good staying dusty in that old shelf anyway, Jennifer." William chuckled quietly. "I'm pretty sure it'd make a better use if it was in your library. Plus, he has a few more copies, anyway. So no worries." 

 Jennifer paused for a brief amount of time, probably trying to put all the pieces of this crazy puzzle together. "I... have like, millions of questions." 

 "Fire away." William joked, with a soft tone. 

 "I hardly get answers when I do." 

 "Ask anyway." 

 Another brief silence interrupted them, this time, William thought how different the conversation was compared to the last one when she visited Cirque Hypnosia. Something was different about her, she was being more friendly or daring than before perhaps, for whatever reason. 

 "How did you know I would come back?" Jennifer finally asked with a subtle tone. "I mean, I know I had your jacket, but Sophia could bring that to you, instead of me." 

 "You're right." William continued. "I didn't know you'd be back or not at all. I actually thought there wouldn't be any chance to hand you the book. It made sense, you not coming back, I mean." 

 "And you still borrowed the book for me, why?" Jennifer let out a shy chuckle. 

 The question echoed in William's mind once again. Why did you share your card tricks with her? Why does she have your jacket in the first place? And even after the countless, meaningless nights you've spent with Amelia, why can't you stop thinking about her smile? 

 "To be honest, I'm not sure, Jennifer..." Words came out of his mouth without intention, as if they were a confession he made - though William wasn't sure if they were meant to be an explanation for Jennifer, or himself. "Guess I wanted to see you again. Make sure you're okay, after the..." He couldn't manage to continue, after all that had happened tonight. 

 "And you took a leap of faith?" 

 William's sudden chuckle was a suprise for Jennifer. "Yeah, I took a leap of faith, in a sense." 

 "I'm glad you did," Jennifer said in a delighted way. "Alright, next question - are you available tomorrow?"

 "Oh," He most certainly hadn't seen that coming. "Afternoon, yeah, why?" Great. The stupid teenager grin on his face was back. 

 "Oranges or strawberry? I mean, if you had to choose between two of them, which one would you?" 

 "Okay, this is getting too complex for me," William joked. "What exactly... am I choosing?" 

 "Well, I never promised you answers." 

 Both giggled. "Fair enough." William replied. "I guess I'll go with oranges." 

 That answer seemed like it rang a bell in Jennifer's mind, for whatever reason. "Great. Does three thirty sound good?" 

 "Sure it does. Also, can we do this somewhere else besides Cirque Hypnosia, if it's okay?" William continued with a hesitant manner. "I could take you to lunch. Or coffee."

 "How about I text you a location tomorrow?" 

 William smiled, wondering what was going on in her head. Maybe she was always like this whenever she wasn't so worried after all - friendly, kind, caring. And maybe, just maybe, she was slowly beginning to share that side of her with William. 

  "Sounds great." He said, as laid down on his bed again. "Thanks for calling, Jennifer. It's great hearing your voice." 

 "Thank you, William. For everything." Jennifer's reply sounded sincere. "I'll see you tomorrow." 

 "Sleep well, Jennifer." 

 "You too, William. Have a good night." 

  William couldn't tell when, how or why his insomnia let go of the painful leash it had wrapped around his mind as he fell asleep with a childish sense of excitement. 

 A knock on the door was what woke him up. 

Chapter Text

 Natalie's whole body ached slowly and unbearably each second she stood on her feet, yet it was nothing compared to the inescapable pain of being forced to get some medical help from Irina. 

 She had headed right into the bathroom of the medical after William left, hoping to win a few minutes before she faced the rest of her horrible night. Just a few innocent minutes of that sweet solitude, before she faced the living, breathing trauma source of her entire life. As if tonight wasn't enough. 

 She sat on the toilet and let out a sigh, wondering if there was a way to avoid Irina's sharp gaze, one that cut like a broken, ruthless shard of glass. Surely not. Thanks to William's smart ass, she thought, even though she didn't like accepting the fact that she was being more than unfair to him. Still, he didn't have to leave her all alone with Irina, did he? 

  A knock on the door broke the silence and startled Natalie as she kept staring at the gray door, and reminded her of the bleeding arm once again. "Occupied." 

  "We should stop the bleeding at once." Irina's deep voice was cold as ice, and Natalie couldn't help but feel the silent anger rising up from her chest once she heard it. "Don't linger. This isn't something you can keep ignoring." The sound of her loud footsteps got further away, but Natalie still heard Irina's last words, the ones she spoke in Russian, her mother tongue. "Unless you want to bleed to death." 

  She couldn't help but bite her fingers for a second, and without her intention, her hand folded into a fist. She smacked the wall lightly, as her anxiety rushed through her body from her spine stubbornly. Why did Irina keep acting like she cared about her all of a sudden, anyway? Natalie felt the nausea kicking in, though she wasn't sure if it was caused by the blood she kept losing slowly, or the possibility of being cared by her own mother. 

 The dizziness made itself obvious when she decided to stand up, and as she tried to unlock the door, Natalie realized how badly Violet da Costa must've cut her from the way her arm burned. That bitch, she thought to herself as she walked to the sinks, a horrible person, and even a worse coder. The audacity. She quickly realized Violet wouldn't even have the chance to aim at her if Natalie hadn't panicked and went looking for William when he disappeared into the darkness. This was the second time today William was being such an asshole and causing Natalie to suffer.

 She turned on the tap with her good arm, and the ice cold water made her body shiver as it touched her skin. Natalie's eyes found her reflection in the mirror halfheartedly, with no intention to see the mess that the Good Samaritan succeeded to create. Still, she failed to keep that intention, and took a glance at the more hostile and vulnerable version of herself. The girl in the mirror seemed quite worned out with each strand of her messy, dirty blonde hair wooled into one another, and with her face - a mixture of smudged make-up and a few non-threatening cuts, more pale and gruffer than ever. Still, Natalie thought, it's not that unfamiliar. 

 Her nausea kept its stubborn existence going, causing Natalie to take annoyingly slow steps to the main medical room. She realized she had no power in her to push the door before she threw up or passed out - yet luckily, she didn't have to. Irina opened the door from inside with a quick move, with a suprised expression spreading over her face. 

 "Fuck..." Natalie gabbled, biting inside her cheek to not think about the thick smell of her own blood. "I think I'm gonna pass out." 

 "Come in, quickly now." Irina's rough voice hid the anxiety well enough with her demanding tone, yet after all these years, Natalie could still hear it. 

 She obeyed without speaking another word as she slowly walked towards one of the hospital beds in a very unbalanced way. She could feel the cold sweat break from her back as it reached the rest of her body, and the metallic scent of her own blood was not being helpful with her dizziness.

 The tinnitus was all she could think of, yet she pushed herself to focus on something else, like the sound of the first aid kit her mother was preparing hastily. Or maybe the creepy message the Good Samaritan left in her computer just this morning could be a delightful way to distract herself. Want the truth Natalie? Just wait. 

 Absolutely the fuck not, she immediately opened her eyes and shook that thought away from her mind. Some demons are better left unfaced.  

 "Ambush?" 

 Irina's raspy voice brought her back from the spar she had going on with the Good Samaritan in her head. Ambush... would that word ever be enough to describe the mess they had just found themselves in? 

 "Yeah it was-" Natalie spoke, but had to stop to clear her throat. It was as if her brain had stopped writing the proper code. "The Templars and everything..." 

 Her eyes locked in her mother's hands - after all these years Irina had spent as a nurse, it was as if they were programmed to do their job, no matter what the circumstances looked like. Natalie couldn't help but compare them to her own hands when she wrote a code - robotic, fast, skilled. Perhaps everybody had their own sleight of hand, in a way. Though she wasn't sure if William would like the sound of that or not. 

 Irina took a short glance at Natalie's bleeding arm, and her face quickly shaped into an expression that Natalie could easily recognize. That calculating, frozen look would appear whenever she was about to confront Natalie for being the one who just didn't fit in. Natalie quickly realized that face was all she could come up with whenever she thought about her mother in her mind – no smiles, happy memories, or anything else, but that face. Somehow, it made her feel like she was being punched in her throat, it was more intense than anything the Good Samaritan had made her go through tonight. So why the hell was Irina begging her to stay here at all? 

 "Templars?" Irina asked without looking at her daughter, as she grabbed a sterile gauze pad and pressed it on Natalie's arm. Natalie didn't turn her head to take a glimpse at her own bleeding arm, but from the way her mother chose the gauze pad instead of a tourniquet, she guessed it must had been oozing steadily. "What were they doing there?" 

 You're asking me, Natalie thought, but didn't articulate those words. Instead, she came up with a less hostile sounding response, she'd had enough drama for one night. "The Good Samaritan managed to trick us both. Probably hoped we'd kill each other." 

 Irina's face changed into a more rigid expression, as if she was trying her best to not have a panic attack. Then, she started speaking quickly with a quiet, serious tone - she'd always do that whenever she wanted to lecture Natalie around. "I told you it was going to be hell outside soon, didn't I? This is why I wanted you to..." She stopped talking to look at Natalie in the eyes. "...to stay here. But you'd never listen. You never did, and you never will. That's going to get you killed." 

 Natalie snorted out laughing abruptly, surprising herself, and Irina. "Please. I've had enough of your wisdom over the years." She didn't move her eyes from her mother's. 

 "What's that supposed to mean?" Irina was clearly upset now, and it seemed like she wasn't going to back down just because Natalie was injured. Of course not, Natalie thought to herself, why would she back down now that I've given her a reason to talk? 

 Natalie took a deep breath, and spoke without hesitation. "You act like you care, but only show up when it's convenient for you. You'd probably be happy if I ended up dead and proved your point, wouldn't you?" 

 It was silent after that for a while, none of them had the will to say anything else - deep inside Natalie knew how sharp those words were, but still, she couldn't stop herself from saying them. Her mind had gone blank, all the dangers The Good Samaritan had put them today was suddenly erased, but only one sentence remained still: How do you tell your children that you never wanted to be a mother in the first place?

 What kind of person would say that to her child? Natalie felt the anger rushing through her body, and hated herself for blushing like a teenager all because she couldn't wrap her head around the idea of being an unwanted kid. She had done everything in her power to prove her worth to the Brotherhood over the years - had studied math and science more than her brother just to convince Izar that she was worthy of being a scientist, instead of ending up as a nurse and spending more time with her mother in the medical. All that effort, just because of some spite and stubbornness to not be reminded of the unwanted kid she was. Eventually, she had succeeded in the end, Izar had seen a bright future in her when he had decided to take her as a student. In years, she had become the skilled computer engineer Izar promised her to be - yet still, it was embarrassing how weak she could suddenly feel with the same old bullshit she should've gotten over years ago. 

 Was that the truth? If that was the case, Natalie had known it for years in her mind, she didn't need her mother or the Good Samaritan to threaten her with revealing it at all. It was all she had ever known her entire life. Still, inside her brain was buried deep, the need for the truth... 

 "Didn't realize patching me up was part of your Assassin mom comeback tour." She taunted abruptly. Natalie didn't know why she broke the silence at all, normally she wouldn't, but it was as if she had no power to resist the urge to reach for the truth. Perhaps all the blood she lost was just starting to show its affects on her judgement. 

 Irina's dark blue eyes found hers, an exasperated impression was in them. She always hated when Natalie made these churlish, unladylike comments. "Things change." whispered Irina with slight anger, not making eye contact for one second. "People change." 

 Now she was carefully removing the gauze pad - which was a sign that Natalie's bleeding was under control. How long have I been here, she couldn't help but think, this place really messes with my mind. Her eyes gazed over Irina as she prepared to apply the antiseptic solution slowly, cleaning her wound. 

 "That's not even an answer." 

 "And do you really want one?" Now, Irina's voice was stronger and held a slight tone of anger. "Or are you just looking for an another reason to hate me?" 

 There it is, the dead end, Natalie thought as she smirked bitterly. She plays the hate card, as always. Though, something about the way Irina spoke reminded her of the last time they had this conversation, just before the attack. What was is that she said? Why do you keep implying that I hate you, it's like you enjoy hearing it so much, it's your whole purpose in life. 

 "No, that's not it." Natalie's words came out of her mouth with a sense of resentment. Though she wasn't exactly sure if she was replying to the conversation or trying to defend herself against Irina's vile comment about her purpose of life. 

 "Then what do you want me to say," Irina stared at her, now with emptiness. She went back to the medical cabinet and grabbed a bottle, which Natalie knew that contained local anesthetic. "That I suddenly realized I'm a terrible mother? That I'm going to make up for your lost time?" She grabbed an injector, and pushed the sharp needle at the tip of the bottle. "Grow up, Natalie. Life doesn't work that way." 

 Natalie felt a huge weight gathering in her throat that blocked her from saying all the things she planned in her mind to say to her. All she did was to look at Irina, and before she knew, words started coming out of her mouth. "No." She cleaned her throat to go on, this time stronger, as if she wanted her mother to remember what she said. "But it might've been nice if you tried." 

 Irina approached with fast steps as she held the injector. "Tried? Did I not beg you to stay in the Gray House? Am I not cleaning your mess right now?" 

 "Right. So I'm a mess now." Natalie felt her eyes throbbing with anger and bitterness. "That tracks." 

 "Bozhe Moi!" Irina raised her voice. Then she calmed herself, and continued with a more preserved attitude. "You've been a mess since the day you decided to freelance your way into this life." 

 "You mean the life you forced me into?" Natalie bit inside her lips. "Yeah, I wonder where I learned that from."

 Silence took over once more, as they both expected it to do so - none of these conversations would end up solving any of their problems, instead, they made it a bigger tangle than it was before. Natalie could see how hurt Irina was as she focused her gaze on the injector she held in her hand.

 Natalie prepared herself to feel the pain of the sharp needle and closed her eyes, but she never felt it piercing through her skin at all - before she knew, it was all done. She opened her eyes and found Irina staring at her. She had to give it to her, Irina was a hundred times better nurse than she was a mother. 

 How much time had passed? Natalie's eyes felt heavier and heavier as her arm went numb until her skin felt more like a piece of plastic. She could hear Irina as she kept preparing her needle, but the desperate need for sleep was stronger than ever. 

 "Any word from your brother?" 

 Irina's question surprised her. She stood by her side now, holding a curved needle in her hand, ready to stitch the wound. Was she just trying to distract Natalie from the procedure or was she genuinely asking? Natalie was too tired to come up with a clever answer, but the question made her think of someone else, someone she hadn't been thinking for a while. 

 "Not really." She replied as she turned her face - for some reason, she didn't want to stare when Irina started stitching her arm. "Last I heard, he was in Italy." 

 Natalie tried to think of something else, but nothing could erase the smug smirk her twin brother always had on his face from her mind. And though they spoke a few months ago through the secure Assassin line and she couldn't see his face at all, it was almost as if that smug smile was tattooed in Natalie's mind - she knew it was just there. People had always said they were almost identical with one another, but Natalie just couldn't see how. Surely, the same tone of blondeness and the identical kind of round face would trick anyone that they were built alike, when the reality was the opposite of that. 

 "Why?" She asked after a while, watching Irina's emotionless face as she carefully sticked the needle in and out of her skin. Her smug twin brother was the least of her problems tonight. 

 Irina waited a while before she replied with a cold tone. "The way things are going..." She hesitated, her thin eyebrows wrinkled like crumpled pieces of paper. Natalie watched Irina as she cleared her throat, which made her even more anxious about what she was going to say next – it was a hungrily curious kind of anxiety. What was it that William said earlier? Had there been a unity between us and the Templars, I would like to know our role. She suddenly had that same gut feeling again - about her mother being a part of all this. 

 "What about it?"

 Irina's answer wasn't exactly what she expected. "It's better if I know where you both are." Her deep voice hid the reluctance she felt, it sounded more like a confession, instead of a motherly advice. What was she hiding? This sudden act of care only created more confusion in Natalie's mind, as Irina's tired eyes found hers once more. "...Even though I know you hate me." 

 Irina was finished with the stitches – she didn't look back at Natalie or help her get dressed, instead, she just left. She got rid of her medical gloves and the bloody needle on the way, and the door slammed right after her quick exit, leaving Natalie there with a foggy mind, a painful body and tons of unanswered questions. 

 Yet she couldn't stop but wish that she told her mother the truth, a truth she had known for years but never told her, because it would mean that she let her guard down. 

 I don't hate you. 

* 

 Izar couldn't remember the last time he went to bed early without having to think about everything – the science behind all this Sage mess that he can never seem to comprehend, a pyscho whose only goal is to erase their existence from history, and the possibility of everyone's violent deaths. At least, that was what he still had in mind when Natalie woke him up. 

 "Get some rest, old man," She whispered, as her hand slightly touched Izar's arm to wake him up. He was startled at first, but a few seconds were enough to make him remember everything. He must had fallen asleep while working again, judging by the way his computer was on, and his notes were all over the place. He could even recall the dream he had – hugging a boy with curly, brown hair. 

 Izar put his hand on his forehead, where an infuriating pain was spreading all over his head. "Hopefully not so old..." He took a glimpse at Natalie's arm. "How are you feeling?" 

  "Like I got stabbed by a Templar, but hey," Natalie joked, yet Izar knew her well enough to know that it was her coping mechanism, the jokes, all those sarcastic comments. "I guess Violet did always want to get under my skin." 

 Izar smiled but it faded quickly, and Natalie didn't push it any further, none of them were in a mood to joke around. "How the hell did this happen, Natalie?" He managed to ask, forcing himself to not sound so broken and guilty. "How the hell... is Haytham Kenway back from the grave after staying dead for two hundred years?" 

 "I don't know." was all Natalie could come up with. "Izar, when they got there..." She started, but it seemed as she was struggling to finish her words. "It was creepy enough what they did to those security guards, but when they arrived, all they wanted was to kill us." Natalie could almost see the masked guys once again, like they were still here. She continued with a shaky voice, as if her mind had just started to process the fear she had been through all night long. "And I don't know how it's all connected... Haytham, the Templars, the Good Samaritan, and... and this Jennifer girl but after everything I've seen tonight... I don't know if we can survive this." 

 Izar didn't hesitate to give her a hug, minding her injured arm. Natalie didn't resist his fatherly gesture and quickly found herself in his warm embrace – maybe she needed a hug after this horrible day. 

 "We will find a way." Izar spoke with a collected tone. "I don't know how just yet, but I won't let anyone hurt my family." They both let go of each other after a short while as Izar continued. "But I have a favor to ask of you, and I don't want to hear any excuses." 

 Natalie kept listening, instead of coming up with a witty response. Suddenly everyone in the Brotherhood had a favor to ask of her, somehow. 

 "You'll stay here until we know what's going on exactly. It's not safe outside and an alone Assassin is as good as dead."

 Natalie sighed loudly, only because she hated the fact that Izar was right, and her mother would get what she wanted after all the fuss they just had been through. She also hated how different it was to hear the same request from a Master Assassin than her mother – this time it wasn't something that she could ignore out of spite, it was an order, therefore it had to be done.

  "Did Irina ask for this?" She asked without looking at Izar's face. 

 "No. And I know you hate everything about this, but I need to know everyone's safe and sound here." 

 Sounds awfully familiar, Natalie thought to herself, remembering her mother's words, the way things are going, it's better if I know where you both are. Perhaps there was a certain kind of similarity between the way Izar's and Irina's brains worked. Or maybe she was being too paranoid. 

 "And besides... I need the best tech girl here with me." Izar smiled faintly. "Like the good old days. Keep rejecting me, I might charge you for tech support." 

 This time, it was Natalie who laughed. "I'm already the emotional support hacker of this dysfunctional family." 

 "Since when?" Izar raised an eyebrow, with the faint smile still visible on his face.

 "Since everyone started driving me crazy." 

 "Welcome back, Nat." Izar nodded slowly. "We've really missed you around here." 

 Natalie bit inside her cheek. "Yup. You're welcome." 

 "Now go, rest. We'll have an emergency meeting first thing in the morning." Izar's voice was commanding now, that fatherly tone would disappear whenever he had to be the guiding Master Assassin. 

 "And you?" Natalie asked. "You should rest too." 

 "I think I'll be up for a while." Izar turned away, avoiding eye contact all of a sudden. Yet, Natalie knew what it was about. 

 "Connor will be back." She couldn't help but feel sorry for Izar. He would never go to bed without making sure the kids were safe. "He'll be back soon. It was too much for him, what happened there, you know..." 

 Izar took a deep breath and faced her, his voice was bitter. "That's why I need to be there for him." He had to clear his throat before he continued. "To remind him... that we're family." 

 Family first and always, Natalie thought, though she couldn't remember who told her that or where she heard that quote from. For a while, that was all she could think of. She really needed some sleep, like seriously.  

 The phone started ringing, causing both of them to startle. Just for a second, Izar's face suddenly took a vague shape, one that was hard to read, but it was so subtle that if Natalie hadn't been his student for years, she wouldn't be able to tell at all. In a split second he pulled himself together and cleared his throat, but still, didn't pick up the call. 

 "Aren't you going to take it?" She couldn't help but ask, and realized it was a mistake to do so. "Maybe it's about Connor?" 

 "I will." Izar gave her a meaningful look. 

 "But not while I'm here." Natalie quickly understood what that meant, and nodded. "Got it, boss." 

 She headed to the door, then gave Izar one last look. "Wait - you have a secret girlfriend or something?" 

 Izar snorted with laughter abruptly, and rolled his eyes. "Good night to you too, Natalie." 

 Natalie didn't have a choice but to go to her old room and sleep, yet all that she could think of was William's words in the car – I can't tell if Izar's hiding things or not. It's killing me to think about that. 

* 

 Izar took a deep breath when he made sure Natalie was gone, his hand on the handset was still shaking with anxiety and anger that kept raging inside him. 

 Without any hesitation, he grabbed the phone and put it on his ear, this time he didn't have to be scared of being hacked. "What the fuck?" He whispered with anger, knowing who would be on the other side of the line to receive these ugly words. 

 "Look. You have to listen to me-" The man's deep voice sounded calm, but still, worried in a way.

 "You too!" Izar raised his voice abruptly. "You can't keep calling me, alright? Do you have any fucking clue about the danger you're putting both of us right now? Because I don't think you do!" 

 "You think I have a goddamn choice?" The man responded with an irritated voice, giving away his thick accent once again. "I'm putting my life in danger here to save people, while you can't see past your own vendetta." 

 "What fucking vendetta?" Izar felt like his whole face was burning with anger. "You don't get to speak about vendetta, not after what happened tonight." Izar remembered their previous phone call, and continued with a quieter tone. "You knew about it, didn't you? All of it. About Haytham." 

 The man sighed. "Yes." 

 "Well that's fucking great news." 

 "Which was precisely why I asked you to stop him from being there. It was bad enough that Connor was there-" The man hissed, and had to take a breath before saying anything else. This time his voice was lighter, childish even. "Why didn't you stop him?" 

 "Don't you think I tried? I already told you it was out of my reach." Izar spoke calmly. "No, he's more like Félicité when it comes to being stubborn." 

 Izar regretted saying that name out loud, and the silence proved how much it held power on both of them – the absence of a long time friend. 

 "Well, I might have witnessed that firsthand tonight." 

 "You what?" Izar whispered, trying to make sense of what he just heard. "Please don't tell me you did something irrevocable, please." 

 "He needed my help. They all did. I couldn't let them die." The man sounded like he was not only trying to convince Izar, but also, himself. 

 "So you helped them? Wait you didn't... speak to him, did you?" Izar felt like he already knew the answer, but one could only hope. 

 "I had no choice." 

 "Oh my God!" Izar's skin started burning with anger once again, like someone was pouring gallons of boiling water from the top of his head. "Great, now we're fucked, thanks to you!" 

 "The only thing you should be thankful is the fact that your boys are still alive and breathing." The man suddenly sounded defensive. 

 "Well that didn't mean you had to chat with them, did it?" Izar took a deep breath. "What did you talk about? And how the hell did they let you help them in the first place?"  

 "They had no choice either." His answer was brief, but filled with the terror he felt from tonight. "The Good Samaritan caught us all by surprise. And no, I didn't have time to chit chat, if that's what you're so afraid of." 

 Izar waited until his heartbeats were slower before he spoke again. "Now what do I say when he asks me why out of all people, a Templar saved his life?" 

 The silence was brief, but allowed both of them to think. "Maybe he won't." 

 Izar chuckled. "Sometimes I forget you don't know him at all. Not one bit." 

 "Then maybe it's time, Izar!" The man sounded desperate, and even though Izar knew where he was coming from, that didn't change the anger he felt for what he had done. "Maybe all this time, it was a mistake to hide who we truly are, and all this bullshit is our punishment for being such big liars." The man sighed before he continued with a more collected manner, as Izar realized he hated the possibility that the man could be right. "Look I'm not proud... I didn't call to defend my failures or to dredge up the past, Izar. I called because... this thing we're up against – it will bury all of us, if we're not careful." 

 Izar waited before he replied. "And whose fault it would be if it does? You left me to pick up the pieces. You..." He cleared his throat, and whispered. "You left him." 

 "I know. And I'll carry that weight for the rest of my life." The man sounded more vulnerable than ever. "But right now, he's the best chance we have to stop this madness. You know it as well as I do."  

 "What do you propose?" 

 "That at least you and I team up, for a while. It'll only get us killed to keep fighting each other." 

 Izar bit inside his lip with anxiety, the disturbing memories started rushing to his mind. "Whatever you're planning, don't forget, you're not the only one watching over him. If you make a mistake, I'll be cleaning up after you. Again." 

 "I wouldn't expect anything less." He sounded respectful, all of a sudden. "But don't underestimate me. I may not have been there when it mattered the most, but I'm here now." The man continued, in a determined voice. "I won't let him fall." 

 "You'd better not. For all our sakes." 

 Izar couldn't comprehend how crazy everything they talked about sounded, it was as if they were riding in a broken roller-coaster or taking a nice walk in a garden full of landmines – there was no way to tell what would eventually be the point of no return. 

 "You know, for all our differences, you and I always wanted the same thing." The man spoke. "To protect the people we care about." 

 "Well, don't mistake me for your friend." Izar replied, coldly. "We're doing this out of necessity, not choice." 

 A quiet chuckle filled Izar's ears. "I wouldn't dream of it. But even you have to admit, we've made a hell of a team in the past." 

 "Don't push your luck." Izar rolled his eyes, yet he knew what the answer to that would be, so he wasn't tiny bit surprised when he heard it. 

 "I make my own luck." 

Chapter Text

Foreword

There are three versions of history: what is written, what is erased, and what returns. 

 Jennifer Hope stared at the book that stood on her desk like it might breathe, her hands still trembled. The book lay still right in front of her, spine cracked like a wound barely scrabbed over, reminding Jennifer of the hellish nightmare it had triggered – or that was what Jennifer assumed it did, since there was no way to tell if she had started showing early signs of paranoid schizophrenia or not. 

 The book stood still, like it had always been there, waiting. Part of her wondered if she had even closed it or not. Her mind played the same memory over and over like a broken record – reading the first few words, and her whole body being electrocuted, only leaving a white fog in her mind. 

 Sayyiduna, they called The Man on the Mountain... 

 Jennifer's skin crawled as she repeated those words in her mind until they felt meaningless, until they started to sound more like a strange prayer. She didn't really know what she was afraid of anymore – the fact that she, most probably than not, was losing her sanity and her thesis had pulled her into something her mind would never comprehend, a point of no return that had her running from the things her mind had made up. Or maybe, the opposite, and the worse – that it wasn't madness or some kind of mind trick, but real memories that belonged to real people.

 She took a glance at her phone to see the time. 04.37. There was no way to sleep. It had almost been two hours since she called William Aguillard – the magician who somehow appeared in her life out of nowhere, yet seemed to be connecting all the dots. Was that really him, in her vision? That beautiful backyard was still too vivid in her mind, as if she could almost see the tree which that little boy climbed so effortlessly. Was that him who stole that deck of cards? 

 Jennifer grabbed the pen on her desk with unease, and scrawled with her bad handwriting: William Aguillard??? 

 Without allowing herself to overthink, she turned to Sub Superficie Terrae, and continued reading the foreword.  

 The manuscript known as Sub Superficie Terrae – Occulta Ordines et Sectas ("Beneath the Surface of the Earth – Hidden Orders and Sects") has no confirmed author, no stable point of origin, and no singular voice. It's a common misconception that it was written by Petrus de Herkulaneum, yet the manuscript is a palimpsest: a text layered with beliefs, fragments, and revisions of multiple scribes, complied across centuries. What emerges is not doctrine, but a pattern – one that has appeared again and again beneath the rise and fall of known civilizations. 

  "A pattern..." She whispered, pushing her mind to remember any detail that could help her figure out whatever was going on in her crazy mind. Quickly, she realized the only person she could think of was that young man, Jaimé. She could remember his face, that annoyed stare, the tie he didn't knot, the braids in his hair... And the letter he anxiously read. Jaimé... Jaimé... Jaimé... Where could she find a pattern in all of this?

  Jennifer took a deep breath and quickly wrote down the boy's name, perhaps it would be better to go step by step: Jaimé... (Aguillard, probably?) Teenager, moody, speaks French... Reads a stolen letter?

  She suddenly felt a tiny bit of relief as she noticed writing could help her remember things as it always had – it allowed her to clear her mind, and find connections. Jennifer took a glance at the book again, she wasn't quite sure what she was looking for, but she couldn't help the urge to keep reading. 

 It speaks not of a single hidden order, but of two great Lineages, diametrically opposed in purpose, yet bound by an ancient thread. They are unnamed here, as they often are in history – described instead as the Upholders of Will and the Shepherds of Liberty. Both have endured in secret, often through conflict, and often rewriting the world in their own images. The manuscript claims that every age has its architects as well as their saboteurs. 

 "Two lineages..." Jennifer murmured, as the word reminded her of the two brothers she saw in her vision. "Bound by an ancient thread." 

  Now she could remember Félicité Aguillard's confident face as clear as day – and thanks to Jaimé's sneakiness, Jennifer had read the name on that letter. She kept on writing as Félicité's voice rang in her ears. 

 Félicité Aguillard, she wrote. In her late thirties? Was supposed to take Jaimé somewhere before she asked him to get his brother down from the tree. Jennifer tried to remember their conversation, their jokes, the way they talked to one another like a mother and son would. Jaimé complained that his brother never listens... 

 So what is that letter about? Who are those two people they mentioned?

 Jennifer paused, and before she knew, her hands scrabbed two words on the paper. Uncle Izar. 

 Her heart started pounding faster as the details rushed to her mind. Best not keep Izar waiting... Is Uncle Izar coming with us? Their voices echoed inside Jennifer's mind like they were here in the room with her. My dearest brother Izar, Félicité had written. She was supposed to leave New Orleans without her children. Loga, whoever that is, visited her, but he's angry for some reason. (?) She doesn't get to see someone in safe conditions anymore... That's all I can remember. 

 New Orleans. Uncle Izar. (Félicité's brother? Jaimé's uncle? William's uncle?) Loga – another family member? 

 Jennifer heaved a sigh. It wasn't getting easier at all, but at least, she had a few more clues now. She realized how unfamiliar those names sounded, she wasn't sure if she even heard the word Izar before – she felt oddly ashamed, but still, couldn't help but type that name on her computer's search browser: Izar (from the Arabic word ازار izār, 'veil') may refer to: Izar, a part of the Ihram clothing worn by ... / Izar, or Epsilon Boötis (ε Boo), is a contrasting double star located at a distance of 203 light years from Earth in the constellation Boötes.

 "What the hell am I doing?" Jennifer shut down her computer and returned to the book on the desk, thinking she couldn't be more desperate, now that she was googling people's names. Surely, there was no online forum to ask for help when it came to the situation she had found herself in. 

 Warily, she turned back to the book, and continued reading. 

 The manuscript also alludes to certain figures known as "those who remember forwards" – individuals born with memories not their own. Whether this is to be read mystically or metaphorically remains uncertain. A handful of pages, particularly those influenced by pre-Hellenic fragments, speak of an unnamed feminine figure, a woman without age, often referred as the "one who speaks through fire and root" or simply "the Flame". The 'root' and 'flame' imagery appears again in tablets found beneath the Roman Forum and is often associated with the so-called Tree of Life myths, though the dating is inconsistent. – Translator's note, 1975. 

 "Those who remember forwards?" Jennifer murmured, this time more confused than ever. "Individuals born with memories not their own..." 

 Could that be even possible? Or could that be what she was? What she just experienced? No... All of this was made up, it was nothing but a bizzare dream... 

 She tried to remember what those two crazy guys were fighting each other to death about, and as her mind took her to the dusty warzone, her hands scrabbed another word to the paper: Connor. 

 Yes, that could be another key point to figure out if she was somehow, with no logical explanation, experiencing someone else's memories instead of her own like the book suggested – instead of going batshit crazy. Jennifer could remember that man with the hat who wrapped his arms around her neck – well, Connor's neck, whoever the hell he was, if what the book suggested had any chance of being true – and those peculiar words that came out of his mouth. 

 Even when your kind appears to triumph, still we rise again. The Order is born of a realization. We require no creed by desperate old men... and this is why the Templars will never be destroyed.

 It was as if a lightning bolt had struck inside Jennifer's brain as she quickly wrote the word Templars in her notebook. Her weary eyes quickly found the previous paragraph as she read it again and again – It speaks not of a single hidden order, but of two great Lineages, diametrically opposed in purpose, yet bound by an ancient thread. They are unnamed here, as they often are in history – described instead as the Upholders of Will and the Shepherds of Liberty.

 "Knights Templar!" Jennifer couldn't believe how loud her voice suddenly sounded, which matched the delirious shock and confusion she felt raging inside her. Had she just connected the dots, or was she simply being brainsick? This whole thing was starting to sound like a cheesy paranormal novel. 

 The dating is inconsistent, she reminded herself and bit inside her cheek as her excitement left itself to disappointment in no time, the Knights Templar were dissolved in 1300's, you genius. There is no way those two crazy fighting guys could use the weapons they had, had they lived in the Medieval Period.

 "But that makes no sense..." She grabbed her notebook once again. "Why would he refer the Templars as we in the first place if he wasn't... one of them?" 

 She was surely missing something. Curiously, Jennifer read the paragraph once again, hopelessly wishing for a revelation. This time, another part grabbed her attention – Both have endured in secret, often through conflict, and often rewriting the world in their own images. The manuscript claims that every age has its architects as well as their saboteurs. 

 In secret. That could be what she was missing, if it didn't sound like a crazy conspiracy theory that had zero evidence to prove its existence. Also, she had no clue about the other hidden order that was mentioned, and it brought her to where she was at the beginning – nowhere. 

 "No." Jennifer took a deep breath and courageously turned the other page. There was no way she could give up now, not when she was questioning her sanity. Besides, it was all history – none of this could hurt her, could it? All of this, had they been true, were a part of the past, ground into dust beneath the ruthless wheel of time. 

 Jennifer started reading the words on the first page, pushing her mind to not think about the last time she read them. 

 I. Initium (The Beginning) 

 Sayyiduna, they called the Man on the Mountain. Not a king, but a custodian. He did not rule with iron nor sword, but with memory–borrowed from a time long buried beneath the skin of history. They feared his silence more than the sword. For in the silence, lay secrets not meant for the waking world. 

 In the time of dust and fire, two towers rose – one seeking Order, the other, Freedom. Between them, stood a third path, neither known nor named. It was walked by the Flame.

 "Order... and Freedom." Jennifer wrote those words down. "Upholders of Will and Shepherds of Liberty. Two great Lineages. Knights Templar... and?" 

 She had no idea what the other one was, no matter how much she tried to remember or forced herself to guess. The Pope? The Knights Hospitaller? Saladin? None of it sounded like any sort of Upholder of Will or a Shepherd of Liberty. She was definitely missing something, something that even her history knowledge would not be enough to figure out. 

 Knights Templar and... another secret order? She wrote on her notebook, and started to list the names. Félicité Aguillard. Jaimé. William Aguillard. Uncle Izar. Loga. Connor. Connor's enemy. Upholders of Will. Shepherds of Liberty. Sayyiduna... and... me? 

 She tried to remember seeing herself right in front of that mirror, in a silk white dress with bird's wings behind them. And though it was her voice that came out of that woman's mouth and her face was exactly the same as Jennifer's, something was different about her – she seemed somehow divine, unlike Jennifer could ever be. Alien-like, even, as if she was not a part of Jennifer's mundane world. 

 At last you're here, I've been waiting for you, she had told her, hello, Jennifer. It felt like being in a horror movie – being called with her own name by herself. 

 The Flame, she wrote under all those names, she had to find what that meant. 

 In the first age, there were two Brothers – not born, but made. One looked at the sky and saw chaos; he built walls to keep it out. The other looked to the earth and saw chains; he shattered them with fire. The Builder said: Order will save us. The Breaker said: only Freedom is holy. They were both wrong, and they were both right. 

 And so, they made Followers. The Builder gave them the laws, the lines, the tower. The Breaker gave them the mask, the wind, the blade. Their war carved rivers in the sand. It burned empires. It whispered behind the thrones of kings and priests alike. No flag bore their names, yet all flags were stained by their struggle. 

 One sought the root – to bind it. The other sought the flame – to free it. But neither saw the Tree. 

 The wheels in Jennifer's mind suddenly started to turn – something about this text sounded almost too familiar. "One looked at the sky, and saw chaos..." She got up from her chair hastily and started to look for her bag. "One built walls to keep it out, which reminds me of..." She muttered as she took out the book, Samarkand. 

 Her fingers ran through the pages carelessly until she finally found the paragraph she was looking for: Three friends were taking a walk on the high plateaus of Persia. A panther sprang out at them with all the fierceness in the world... Jennifer kept reading, a strange kind of hunger for knowledge was taking control of her. The third was a man of belief. He walked towards the panther with his hands open, with dominating demeanor and eloquent words. 'You are welcome to these lands,' he said to the panther. My companions were richer than I, and you despoiled them. They were prouder than I, and you have laid them low...

 Those words didn't mean anything more than a simple backstory a few days ago, yet now, they sent chills down Jennifer's spine. She read the last paragraph and heaved a sigh of shock. 

 When the time of upheavals arrived, no one could stop its course, no one could flee it but some managed to use it. Hasan Sabbah, more than anyone, knew how to tame the ferocity of the world. He sowed fear all around him in order to make a tiny piece of calm for himself in his redoubt of Alamut.

  Hasan Sabbah. Jennifer thought about that name for a few minutes, calculating how much she knew and didn't know about that mysterious figure in history. Her eyes drifted back to the manuscript, but her thoughts were already pulling her away from the present to his ferocious Hashashins. She took her time thinking about them, but it was already bothering her that everything about them was more myth than actual history. 

 Who was Hasan Sabbah, really? A scholar, a mystic, a revolutionary? Or a madman, a manipulator, a zealot? He was one of those people – whose role would depend on which source you trusted. To Persians, he was a heretic, the Crusaders feared him like a ghost story, meanwhile the Ismailis, at least a few who preserved their past, remembered him with reverence. Jennifer sighed. How could someone so influential leave behind so little certainty? 

 Hasan Sabbah, she wrote on her notebook, but it felt wrong to make these sorts of absurt assumptions as a historian. The Knights Templar... and Hasan's Ismaili Hashashins? Are those the two great Lineages that the manuscript mentions? If Jennifer hadn't found herself in such an awkward situation that destroyed the way she perceived reality, she could even think that'd make a good plotline for a history fiction movie – but there she was, trying to connect the dots that felt more like a lame conspiracy theory.  

 One thing she was certain of – Hasan's Hashashins were killers, the first organised ones in history that managed to change the way politics worked. That certainly fit the description of burning empires. Yet, nothing could explain the great paradox Jennifer had in her mind – that these two hidden orders hadn't even fought one another in the first place. Knights Templar and Ismaili Hashashins at each other's throats? Just doesn't make any sense, she repeated to herself. Jennifer kept reading, as thousands of questions rushed through her mind. 

 They emerged when memory still walked on earth. One hand raised the blade to shatter the chains. The other carved laws into stone and built walls around the flame. The world called them many names – some whispered in fear, some etched into marble, all forgotten by design. Their war was older than kings, older than faith. It began not for power, but for the soul of choice itself. They were estrangled twins, born from the same garden. The Tree that split them whispered a third name. The Flame.

 "The Flame..." Jennifer whispered nervously. She had to find what that meant, if she wanted to solve this mystery she accidentally found herself in. 

 And Jennifer knew that William Aguillard was the only person who could have some answers.

* 

 A simple knock on the door. Nothing too loud or impatient. 

 That was how William knew it was Connor – he had his own way of being so selflessly humble, even when the world devoured him and broke his heart into the smallest pieces. William's eyes snapped open, and the weight behind the knocking sound told him everything. Connor is back.

 He swung his legs off the bed and tried to ignore the annoyingly pulsing headache that spread from his scar – seemed like that was all that the painkillers were capable of when it came to numbing the damage that fall had created. Times like these William would not feel so bad about having paraplegia, all he had to do was to turn off that high-tech walking stick Izar created and his body would go numb until he woke up again. Well, what's a Master Assassin if he can't walk, he reminded himself and got out of the bed, it's bad enought that you had the nerve to lose it tonight in the first place. 

 William got out of his bed and without wasting another second, he opened the door. 

 Connor stood in the hallway without moving – his shoulders carried the silence of the forest and probably something way heavier. His clothes seemed damp in the cold blue light of the approaching dawn, leaves caught in his boots, a faint smear of mud in his sleeve. His hair was unkempt, strands fallen across his face – seemed like he hadn't bothered to tie them back. It was relieving to see him in one piece, but William just couldn't relax, since his eyes held such an unfamiliar darkness in them. 

 "You were asleep." Connor's voice was low. There was no anger in it, but the quiet gravity of him, trying to hold it together. 

 "For once." William silently answered. "Do people know you're here?" 

 "Only Izar. I told him to get some rest." Connor nodded, seemed like he wasn't eager to talk about it much longer. Too selfless, William thought, he's probably still blaming himself. 

 "You needed time." 

 Connor didn't say a word, but took a look at William's eyes for the first time with that unreadable expression on his face. It didn't take long for William to notice how tired he was, not just from the lack of sleep, but the kind of exhaustion that would come with constant state of thinking.

 There was a distant, fractured look in his eyes that reminded William of how he'd get fixated on card tricks when he was a kid – constantly playing the different scenarios and odds in his head for hours. He'd do it whenever he felt like he'd never walk ever again, or before those sleepless nights that had him thinking about his mother for hours. Before he knew it, he had all those basic card tricks in the book memorized, just to stop the noise in his head – and now it seemed like Connor too, had a noise he just couldn't turn off. 

 "He's here..." Connor's voice was almost too weak to hear as if he was talking to himself, and William instantly knew who it was about. 

 Without hesitation, William grabbed his hoodie from the back of the door, and put it on. "Come on." 

 "Where?" 

 "You know where." 

 Of course Connor did. He didn't question William as they walked the halls of the Gray House like ghosts, silent, deliberate – the same halls they spent their childhood in was so empty at night even though it was always guarded by Assassin recruits. Their footsteps echoed as they stepped on the old wooden floors, and the low lights casted their long shadows on the walls. 

 They passed the library as Connor glanced at the closed door – Izar was finally in his room, resting until another stressful Brotherhood meeting early in the morning. No one said a word, but he was positive William was thinking about the same thing. Still, they both chose to leave that for now and walked outside the main door. 

 The early morning cold air was sharp, the kind that bit at the skin and cleared the mind. The city far away was still wrapped in shadow, quiet and indifferent, and above them the stars were slowly beginning to fade. It was the same path they used to take when they were younger, so Connor didn't have to rely on his senses or tracking skills – instead, his feet slowly followed William with a sense of comfort. Somehow, it reminded him of the simpler times. 

 William briefly stopped before stepping out onto the fire escape. Connor watched him in silence as William's thin fingers pressed a hidden latch, and the metal collapsed with a slow click into three neat segments. He'd always do that whenever he had to climb and usually holstered it just beneath his shoulder, where others would keep a weapon. "You go ahead." 

 Connor didn't say a word and moved ahead silently, knowing the way by heart. His one hand gripped the cold railing, and the other one was steady against the brick wall. For a few seconds, all he did was to rely on his muscle memory – no feelings, no words, no questions. He felt William's weight on the railing as he carefully adjusted his momentum to slide right next to the window. In a heartbeat, he was floating on air before his hands grabbed on the egdes of the window. He ducked into one window to another as William followed just behind him, both emerging into the sharp chill of the early morning. Connor liked how natural it felt to do what he had been trained to do his entire life – yet he was lighter on the feet, but slower than the usual tonight, as if something was holding him down from the inside. 

 He took a left turn from the mid-level platform knowing William was close behind. At the top, the flat, uneven section of the roof, the gravel crunched between his boots as he hoisted himself up again. Finally, he braced his palm on the edge and felt the cold concrete bite into his skin as he pushed himself up with a grunt of effort. He turned back, grabbed William's hand and pulled him. 

 They crossed the rooftop slowly, boots soft against the gravel, toward the northern edge where the ledge was low and the view was large. They didn't have to rush anymore now that they were up – so Connor took his time gazing at the city far away that stretched beneath them in blues and silvers. The rooftops were layered like waves, and it seemed like the world was still asleep. 

 He walked until the edge and stopped as he folded his arms against the cold. William stood right beside him, his chest was rising with a long, steady breath. For a second, it was just them – no creeds, no legends, no enemies. Up here, the sky above felt closer than the war.

 But then, Haytham's words rushed through his mind once again. You look exactly like him... you are him. My son who stabbed me in the neck. He tried to forget that uncanny sound that told him to remember, yet he found himself wishing he could forget everything about tonight. 

 "Haytham Kenway is alive." Connor finally spoke as he sat down. "He's here. Speaking. Breathing." 

 William did the same and put his folded walking stick right next to him. "It's a hell of a lot more serious than we thought, isn't it?" 

 He's right, in a way, Connor thought. All those possibilities that they discussed, all the pointless plans they made only seemed laughable now. The Good Samaritan didn't have to do anything, all it took for them to kill each other was Templars being involved. Connor just couldn't believe how pathetic they both were, and how weak this centuries old fight made them look like. 

 "I don't know what to do with this..." Connor said. He looked at William's eyes, only to see the same kind of pain in them. "William, I thought..." He paused briefly and cleaned his throat that hurt like hell. "I thought I had let go all of this when I found out I was a Sage. That I had... accepted what happened. But now... He's here. And I do not know if I should feel relief or dread." 

 William's eyes held a painful expression in them, reminding Connor of the day they first met – his tired, sleepless eyes that held the grief of his mother's death and more. "I know. Look, you don't have to figure out right away." 

 "I killed him..." Connor thought of Haytham's robotic-like figure, and how unnatural he sounded when he first spoke. "How... how is this possible at all? How is he back?"  

 "Do you regret it?"

 "No." Now his voice was quieter. "But that doesn't mean I wanted it. God, he was so angry, he tried to kill me once more." 

 William suddenly seemed curious. "He did?" 

 "Yeah. Some Templar shot him with some sort of sleeping dart. Spoke like he knew Haytham." Connor watched William as his face suddenly changed. "Told me he could be a pain in the ass, like I don't already know." 

 William almost seemed alerted now. "Man with the black uniform and the ponytail. With the riffle?" That calculating, suspicious voice was back. "The one who stopped the fighting?" 

 "Yeah. That man." 

 "Do you know who the hell that is?" 

 Connor paused. "No clue. I've never seen him before. Templar, but... different, right?" 

 "Mhm."

 They both paused for a while, but Connor was even more confused. "What happened with him? You seem... quiet shaken." 

 William seemed calm, but Connor knew him well enough to know he had more in mind than he showed. "It's just that... He saved my life tonight and I have no idea why." He turned his head and watched the city far away, as if he didn't feel comfortable about what he was about to say. "Hell. I'd be dead now if it wasn't for him."

 "He told me he was scared he couldn't make it on time to save me, whatever that means." Connor realized he hadn't paid much attention before, but now that the shock was gone, he could finally remember some details. "Even after everything was done... He knew exactly what to say to make people listen. Both sides." 

 William was silent for a while, deep in thought. Connor wondered what piece this answer was for the puzzle William had in his mind – but deep inside he knew William wouldn't tell anything just yet. "Like someone who's done it before?" He whispered, but before Connor could ask anything, he came up with another question. "Do you still experience those memory fragments like the one you told me about? The Bleeding Effect, I mean?" 

 "Not until tonight. Not until I saw him in front of me." Connor's answer was reluctant. "But I swear, I heard an uncanny voice telling me to remember. And I have no doubt he heard it too. That's when he remembered who I am. What I've done." 

 "There's gotta be a reason for all this..." William sounded like he was trying to convince himself. "Connor, I think something is triggering your Bleeding Effect, Haytham's return... All of this." 

 "The Good Samaritan." Connor replied, but William seemed skeptical. Did he actually think something else was the source? "Whatever that thing is, it knew exactly what it's doing. Letting him loose like that. It wasn't just strategy, it was intentional. It wanted to ruin me." Silence took over. "Am I... am I next? Am I going to turn into something like that?" 

 "You're not him. And you'll never be." 

 Connor's voice raised with despair. "But what if it's not a choice? What if it just happens?" It felt like being choked to know none of them had an answer for that. "I mean, what does being a Sage even mean?" 

 William took a deep breath and fixed his eyes on the horizon – the sun was slowly rising. "Connor, I guess there's only one person who has an answer for that question." 

 They both knew it was none other than Jennifer Hope.