Test of Faith

Chapter 40

Mirabella sat in her office with Gianni, facing the boy who called himself Ratonhnhaké:ton. "Do you know what you are asking for, ragazzo? The training that you request?" Mirabella asked, intrigued.

He merely shook his head, his wide brown eyes filled with wonder. His skin was not as tanned as that of the Natives, but not pale enough to pass for a Brit. 

She leaned forward, eyeing him closely. "Your skin is fair enough to pass for...perhaps a Spaniard, but you bear the clothes of a Native. Who are your parents, ragazzo?"

He was somewhat surprised by her question, but he replied nonetheless. "I never met my father, he was not of my village. My mother was, though - her name was Kaniehtí:io." 

Mirabella's eyes widened, and she leaned back in her chair as she stared at the boy with wide eyes - it could not be.

"It seems you have this under control," Gianni muttered, then quickly left the room. The boy watched him leave in confusion, his brows furrowed, and he turned back to Mirabella.

Her eyes were glassy, but her expression held no emotion. "If I train you, ragazzo...you must understand that you will undoubtedly meet your...father in battle," she warned, spitting out the word.

"Why? Who is he?" She turned away, closing her eyes as she caught her breath. Bastardo. "That story is a long one to tell, ragazzo...I expect you to pay attention."

~~~~

By the end of her story, the boy looked overwhelmed with emotion. Anger, determination, curiosity, wonder. "I have tried to promote peace through my...affiliation with your father, but it is impossible, ragazzo. We will never see eye to eye and there will never be an understanding between both sides," she told him gently.

"Then they must be stopped," he declared, standing up. Mirabella chuckled dryly, shaking her head. "It is not that simple, child. Have you ever wielded a blade before? A sword? Are you able to remain hidden in plain sight? Vanish without a trace?"

The boy's determination soon deflated at her words, and he sat back down. "The Templars must be stopped. They will put men and women in chains and rule a world without freedom," he said, his fists clenched.

Mirabella smiled, watching the boy as she thought; "Your determination is admirable, ragazzo, I will tell you that. Your mother was just as determined, as well as ambitious. I see great wonder in your eyes, too, for what might be, what might happen. I saw that many times in your father."

She fell silent as she stared at the face of Ziio but into the eyes of Haytham. Mirabella then stood up, and awkwardly the boy copied her actions. 

"I will train you, boy, but know your skills will not appear overnight. I will train your personally, with the help of my brother - we are the Mentors of the newly reformed Colonial Brotherhood."

The boy's eyes lit up in delight, and he bowed his head respectfully. "I am honoured...uh...?" He looked back up awkwardly, and the Assassin smiled in amusement.

"Francesca Mirabella Auditore, ragazzo. And speaking of names...you will need a new one - Native Americans are not...welcomed, in town," she explained. 

Mirabella approached the boy, scanning him over; despite his youth, he was rugged and fit, and he wore a necklace decorated with wolf teeth.

"I have the perfect name for you, ragazzo." Mirabella stood tall in front of him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Connor."