The Pirate and the Assassin (An Assassin's Creed Black Flag Fan Fic)

Chapter 3

I'm sorry this chapter sucks, I'll edit it later. If I can be bothered.
Or if someone else wants to, my editing offer still stands :)

Edward

So far, things were running smoothly. The assassins were panicking and heading towards the cliff, my men hadn't killed everyone.
So far so good.

Unfortunately, they hadn't managed to capture any of the mercenaries, so I decided to take matters into my own hands. I hopped on the last boat rowing to shore and, once we'd reached the beach, I strode up the hill to where the rest of my men were fighting in the towering trees. When I saw the battle unfolding before me, I had to admit, the skills of these Island Assassins had not been exaggerated. They were pretty bloody good.

A loud yell from my left caused my head to snap in that direction, where I saw one of the island men running towards me. A cloak and a tricorn hid his face from view. A quick slash from the curved blade of a cutlass in my hand silenced the man, forever.

I continued through the trees, cutting down or disarming those, who weren't part of the crew, when I saw him.

The leader.

At least, I think it was him. It was said that only a few could defeat him in a fight. And well, my men were getting their arses kicked by him. Twirling around with a cutlass in one hand and a...was that a stick? No, an arrow. He was moving with the fluidity and grace of a flowing river, never stopping, never starting and always moving. I had to admit, he fought in a rather....feminine way. No man I'd seen had ever fight with such, grace. An object protruding from his leg caught my gaze. It looked like a knife.

Damn, that had to hurt.

An arrow sprouted from the rough bark of the tree in front of me, inches from my face and broke my line of thoughts. I spun around and flung up my cutlass, blocking a strike that would have had my head rolling on the ground.
The man who wielded the blade wore green and gold robes, a long black cloak and a tricorn which hid his face from view. I glanced down and did a double take. I wasn't too sure if this...boy, had even even reached manhood yet. He wore no boots or trousers of any sort, revealing long, slender legs that were also rather feminine. But I didn't dwell on the thought.

Right now, I was trying not to die as I battled the strange boy before me.
He was, without a doubt, a fantastic fighter.

But so was I.

Back and forth we battled, lashing out with blades, fists and legs, doing all we could to bring our opponent to their knees.
So far, neither of had come close to succeeding.

Our fight had drawn us away from the trees, through their little brick house village and by the edge of the cliff. The deafening crash of waves clashing against the face of the cliff drowned the sound of iron on iron and occasional grunt.

I was aware of what this mercenary was trying to do, he intended to throw me off the cliff.

And he was close to achieving his goal.

Avila
I don't think I had ever fought this hard for years. My arms ached from constantly blocking the pirate's attacks and my legs felt like lead from staying low and darting around. And of course, I was terrified of this man and his crew.
My determination to push him off the cliff over-rode my fear of these people. I had almost succeeded too, when a familiar figure tumbling down caught my eye. I watched, horrified, as the pirates descended upon her with their cutlasses, knives and guns. The woman fought fiercely to protect herself, but her opponents were quickly overwhelming her.
I caught a flash of red and dread flooded my body.
"MUM!" My voice was hoarse and laboured from my fight.
"Avila!" she screamed, and I gasped. She sounded so...weak. My mother was never weak. It hurt to hear how tired and desperate she seemed.
I locked eyes with the pirate I was battling.

Only, he was no ordinary pirate. This man was the captain of those scum.

And I intended to bring him down.

My lips twisted into an ugly snarl. With my two cutlass gripped firmly in my hands, I lunged forward and struck at the man's boots and whirled away out of reach of his retaliation. I then dove to the side so I was crouched behind him and thrust my foot out, catching him straight in the back of the knee, sending him crashing down...
...And tumbling over the cliff.
I fell down on my knees in the grass, panting and gasping for air. My swords hung limply at my sides. It'd felt like I'd been fighting for hours.
Another agonised moan reached my ears. My head snapped up and my eyes flicked about, searching for the source. I spotted a glimpse of red, slowly heading towards my mothers cabin.
Dragging myself off the ground, I breathed in deeply, then sprinted after my wounded mother.

"Mum! Mum, are you alright? Did any of those bastards hurt you?" I gingerly reached over and peeled away her hand smeared in blood that was covering her abdomen. She didn't make a sound, but what I saw confirmed my worst fears.

She had been shot.

"Avi..la, my beautiful daughter." Mother croaked.
"Shhh, it's okay. I'm going to find some medicine and help you." I turned to go, but she grabbed my hand and yanked me back down.

Ow.

"N...n...no, don't go. I ...need to...give you....some....thing.....import...ant." She started coughing.

My eyes burned and a single tears fell. "Mum, easy. What is it?"

"Go, under..my bed. There ...should be...a box. Bring it."

I scrambled up and ran inside the house.

"Under the bed, under the bed.." I was muttering, as I always did when I was nervous. My rummaging fingers scraped against something coarse and wooden. "Aha!"
I hauled out a small box with unusual symbols carved into the wood. "Found it."
I slowly walked back over to Mum, who was getting paler and paler by the second.

"Open it." She urged. Kneeling down beside her, I prised open the lid with my nails. It took a while, but eventually the box creaked open, revealing what looked like two hollow leather tubes. Straps and silver work adorned the dark leather.

"What are they?" I picked one up and examined it, trying to figure out what they're used for. I peered through the middle of it.

"They're bracers .....with hidden ....blades.Put them ...on."
I was still puzzled, but I undid the straps, slid them on and buckled the two up. They fit perfectly, covering my forearms.

"Hidden blades you say?"

"Aye...flick your...wrist back."

I did. A long, slim blade shot out from its hidden sheath on the leatherwork, extending past the inside of my wrist. The iron edge looked slightly longer than the length of my hand.

"Now flick your wrist forwards." I obeyed and watched the shiny metal disappear back into its hidden sheath, out of sight from any passerby's eyes.

"They're, beautiful." And they were. In a dark, dangerous sort-of way.
"Where did they come from?" I asked, admiring the leather and iron handiwork.

"They....belonged to....your.....father."

I know it sucks, but I'm not in a writing mood. I'll edit some later or write another chapter. idk.
Btw, the bracers on the side aren't actually Avila's. They're just to give you an idea of what they look like.

Laters