Some Drawings, an Assassin, and a Planned Fight
So what now? I think to myself.
If the spirit's words were true, I was also in search of someone. But who?
It was getting dark and I needed to find a place to rest for the night. I wandered the cold, dark, smelly streets of Boston for a bit keeping my coat close to my body and my hood over my head. While I tried not to draw attention to myself, people left me alone but still gave me strange looks when we passed.
"Hey look there he is!"
I whipped around and see a colonist pointing at me a few yards away. "It's the wanted man with the hood!"
People stopped where they stood and stared. Some women gasped and screamed while grabbing their children to turn and run.
"Guards, don't let him get away!" The man continued to shout.
I turned around and before I knew it, I was surrounded by at least five red coats who had their muskets pointed and ready to fire.
I didn't panic. My body went into fight mode as I felt a small smile pull at the corners of my mouth. I still felt a fight left in me. And this time, I would not be afraid to kill. I am an Assassin. This would be good for me.
A red coat lunged at me. I easily side-stepped him and grabbed the wood of his musket while with my other hand dipped his head forward and I brought the gun into his head while I moved my hand down to pull the trigger. The blood from the blow poured over my fingers but I didn't have time to wipe it away when another red coat came at me from behind. It was not as bad as I make it out to be. I bent my upper body back enough so the bayonet didn't penetrate me. Once I leaned forwards and gained my balance back, I did a quick spin and pressed my hand on his back and unsheathed my hidden blade into his flesh as he falls dead to the ground at my feet.
"Now who's next?" I growled looking at the three men circling me.
Two red coats came at me at once their bayonets both pointed at my sides as they charged. Taking a few steps back was all I had to do; they rammed each other in the stomach howling in pain. I shove both hands forward, pressed both hidden blades into their necks, and released watching them fall to my feet dead.
Only one remained. This one was big. He wore a funny plaid green kilt and held a large long ax.
"One more," I muttered to myself.
He swings the axe over his head as he ran towards me. When the blade was about to come in contact with my neck, I dropped to the ground and did a tumble around him as I jumped up behind him ready to end his life but he was too quick for me and rammed his elbow back hitting me in the head with the butt of his ax. Black dots danced in my vision as I fell to the ground. Before I could get up, there was a thick heavy black boot on my chest.
I looked up to find the man grinning down at me. "Oh, I'm going to enjoy this," he raises the ax over his head.
There was no way my journey was about to end... not like this...
Suddenly out of nowhere, in a flash of white and blue, he appeared. I felt like I was in one of my dreams when I knew exactly what he was about to do and I knew exactly what I needed to do.
As if we had rehearsed it, the man pulled out his gun still undetected by the guard and shot the red coat in the back. The man staggered back and quickly pulled his boot off my chest. I jumped to my feet and pushed the red coat back into the ground as I buried my hidden blade into his neck.
I slowly got to my feet, surprised at my killing all these men. I then looked at the man who just saved my life. We studied each other for a moment. I couldn't believe I was staring at the man and boy I had been dreaming about for the past ten years.
"Well, are you going to thank me?" he asked me in a sarcastic tone.
"I can't believe you're actually real," I said slowly completely ignoring his question as I pulled off my hood.
The boy looked a bit confused as he took off his own hood. I almost squealed with delight when I saw his face. I couldn't believe my eyes!
Taking a few steps towards him, I reached up and touched his face. His skin was soft and dark and warmed my fingers. I could tell he was obviously Native American, probably from a Mohawk tribe. He reminded me of Taylor Lautner in a way. I could tell he was surprised and confused when I rested my hand on his cheek, but he didn't pull away.
"I didn't think you even existed," I said quietly after a long period of silence.
He suddenly pulled away from me and gave me a strange look. "What are you talking about?" His voice had a deep masculine tone, sort of a luring feel to it.
When I realized I haven't fully explained myself, I quickly went to the belt at my waist as I opened the leather pouch to produce a sketch pad. Flipping through some pages, I hold it out to him.
"Is this you?" I showed him a sketch I did of him drawn the exact way he was now with the white and blue robes, the hood over his head, and tomahawk in his hand which was now at his waist.
He looked quite astonished when I showed him the sketch. He took the book from me and began to flip through it. The man passes pictures of himself with and without his hood, close-ups of his face, him in his Native American clothes like a 14-year-old, him as a child, and other pictures I drew of people the I assumed he knew though I didn't know any of their names. I didn't even know his name.
"Where did you get these?" his voice was urgent.
"None of your business," I snap taking the sketch book from him and quickly realizing that was a bad idea to show him those drawings.
"Can you at least tell me your name?" He persisted.
"Nope," I said straight away as I tucked my book back into my pouch.
"Please," He says. "It is quite obvious that you are an Assassin. Not just anybody can fight like that, especially someone with hidden blades."
I looked up at him, his golden-brown eyes boring into my ocean blue ones. "Riley."
"Unusual name," I heard him mutter under his breath.
Disgusted, I put my hands on my hips. "And what's your name? Or should I just call you, 'Mr. Judgmental?'"
"Connor," He says. I caught him smile under his hood.
Rolling my eyes at him, I pull my hood back over my head. "Nice to meet you, Connor, but I really should get going."
As I turn to leave, Connor stopped me. "Wait," he said quickly grabbing my arm.
"What?" I asked making sure my voice sounded as annoyed as possible. Why didn't he just leave already?
"Do you have a place to stay? Where do you live?" His questions stumped me.
"Let's just say, that I'm not from around here," I answered.
"Where are your parents?" his voice almost sounded genuinely concerned.
My chest began to hurt just thinking about it again. "They're... Dead," I whispered the word as tears threaten to fall.
"Oh," Connor said slowly. "I am sorry to hear that."
I shrugged putting away my childish feelings and emotions. It still hurts a lot but I would have to deal with the pain.
"I live in a manor not far from here. You can stay there with me and you will be safe-"
I ripped my arm away from him. "How can I possibly trust you?" I asked in an angry tone. "I barely even know you."
"Or you can continue to wander and likely be attacked again," Connor finished as he raised his hands in defeat. "Have I given you a reason not to trust me?"
I studied him for a moment and finally let out a sigh knowing that I had no choice. "Fine," I muttered.
"So why were you attacked by those guards in the first place?" Connor asked me about an hour later as we rode on horses we stole in Boston towards the Homestead.
"I guess I apparently look enough like you to be wanted dead for wandering the streets of Boston at night," I said shrugging.
"Oh, oops," Connor said smiling sheepishly from under his hood that shadowed most of his face. "I guess now that we both know that were Assassins, I can say that I had no idea there were any left besides me."
I didn't say anything to that. How could I tell a total stranger that I had traveled back in time from the present day to Boston in 1770 by a glowing Apple? "Well, Assassins are known for their stealth," I finally said quickly.
Connor nodded lightly to me before sliding off his horse. "We should probably camp here for tonight." He said. "We should make it to the manor by mid-morning tomorrow."
I hopped off my horse and tied it next to Connor's before I joined him by the small fire he was making.
"So where are you from?" Connor asked me after we have finally settled down. I felt a bit of panic shoot through me.
"That's nothing you need to concern yourself with," I snapped at him.
Connor held his hands up in defeat again. "Can I at least see the sketch pad again?" He asked me in a polite voice.
I nodded pulling the book from my pouch then proceeding to hand it to him. I needed something to take my mind off my parents. Just before I placed it in his hands, I slightly pulled it away, "As long as you tell me all the people's names and anything I haven't labeled yet."
When he nodded, I scooted closer to him as I pulled a pencil out.
Connor opened the book to the first page. "This is the Homestead," he said pointing to my very detailed drawing of a layout all the homes and the manor surrounded by trees, water, and the cliffside with the ocean. "Then this is obviously me." I scribbled his name on all the pictures of him. It takes us a good fifteen minutes to get through all of them. I write down the names of Haytham Kenway, a Templar and Connor's father, Ziio, his mother, Charles Lee, Thomas Hickey, and Benjamin Church all faithful Templars to Haytham, Achillies Davenport, the owner of the manor Connor stayed in, and the Commander of the Continental Army, George Washington. Along with different places and scenes, I had drawn that I specifically remembered from all my dreams from the past ten years.
"Were you injured?" Connor asked me after a few minutes of silence while we stared into the orange and yellow movements of fire.
I looked down and realized what he means. "Oh, no. That's my father's blood along with some dead Templar's too." I said casually. There was no point in beating around the bush. It happened. There's nothing I can do now. But it still hurt to say. I could tell that Connor regretted asking but he said nothing.
"Well, goodnight," I said lying across the mat that was on the saddle of the horse I stole. Before closing my eyes, I took one more peek at Connor before drifting into a dreamless sleep.