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Description
April 20, 1813; Davenport Homestead, Massachusetts

“I really don't think we should be snooping around the manor like this,” Arnold said.

Aveza looked up from the drawer she was searching. “If Connor didn't want us rummaging through this place looking for trinkets then he wouldn't have let us stay here,” she said simply.

“I don't think that logic is sound…”

“Oh hush. Where's your sense of adventure?”

“I believe I left it back on the Aquila.”

Aveza laughed at that. “Fine,” she said. “Suit yourself. I'm going to keep looking though.”

The two were in the manor’s hidden basement, where most of the Assassins’ supplies were kept. If Aveza was going to find anything to cure her boredom, chances are it was down there amongst the clutter. Aveza had found several things from the past. Some of Connor's old outfits, including the one he wore during the Revolution, were still stored on the long clothes rack along the wall. On a nearby desk were souvenirs from many of Connor's fallen targets, like William Johnson, Nicholas Biddle, Thomas Hickey, and even his own father, Haytham Kenway. Little mementos to remember the Assassins’ victories. The next room on was the weapon’s room, where Connor stored all the various swords and pistols he collected over the years. But even after 32 years of owning this place, Connor never did that much to tidy up the basement. Aveza's guess was that he was too sentimental to arrange anything too differently after the death of his old mentor. She could understand that motive, though.

Besides, the clutter gave her quest to cure her boredom a little sense of adventure. She started moving some old wooden boards that had been sitting in a pile in the corner. She wiped away the decades-old dust that covered the wall beyond. To her surprise, she found a sort of hidden locked door.

“Hello,” she said. “What're you then?”

“You find something interesting?” asked Arnold.

“Yeah. There's a small hatch in the wall over here. Can you hand me your lock picks?”

“Sure thing.” Arnold reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his lockpicks. He handed them to Aveza, who used them to open the lock on the knee-high hatch. Once the locks popped open with a satisfying click, she opened the hatch, wiped away the cobwebs, and lugged out what was inside: a chest. A normal old chest with a tree symbol above the lock.

“Huh,” said Aveza. “Wonder what's in here.”

“Open it up,” said Arnold.

Aveza nodded and took the lockpicks and jabbed them into the lock on the chest. She fiddled with the mechanisms every which way, but no matter what, they wouldn't give.

“Bloody complicated lock,” she said in frustration.

“Here. Let me try,” said Arnold. She passed him the picks and he tried to open the lock. He failed just as badly as Aveza.

“Good Lord!” he said. “You're right. It is bloody complicated.

“What's the issue?” a new voice said. Aveza and Arnold turned to see Connor walking down the stairs.

“We're trying to get this chest we found open,” said Aveza. “The lock on it is bloody stubborn.”

“I see. Let me see if there's anything I can do.” Connor walked over to join them in their efforts to open the chest. He pulled out his own, much older lockpicks and got to work.

“Wait, you're not mad that we've been rummaging around your house like this?” said Arnold.

“Why would I be mad?” said Connor.

“I don't know. I mean, don't you like your personal space?”

“This land belongs to all its inhabitants. All that is on it is open to everyone, so long as we share it with everyone else.”

Arnold stared, then shrugged. “Alright. Fair enough I guess,” he said.

Connor chuckled a bit. “Besides,” he said. “I know I've done my fair share of exploring around here. I know how much fun it can be.”

Suddenly, an audible click sounded within the lock as Connor miraculously got it open.

“Got it!” he said.

“Alright mentor! Way to go!” said Aveza.

Connor smiled at her enthusiasm. He stepped back and motioned for her to open it, which she gladly did.

Within the chest was a bizarre lantern of sorts along with a stack of papers. Aveza pulled them all out. She put the papers aside and held up the lantern for her friends to see.

“What's this thing?” she asked.

“That's a magic lantern,” said Arnold.

“A what?”

“A magic lantern,” said Connor. It projects images when a picture is placed in front of its flame.”

“Here, hand it to me and I'll show you,” said Arnold.

Aveza handed the thing to him. He opened up the side to check to see if any pictures were already in there, which there were. He pulled a match out of his belt pouch and used it to light the flame inside. Then, he closed the device up and pointed it at a wall. The room was just dark enough to be able to see the image projected from the device. A drawing of soldiers battling lit up on the wall as the light shined through it. Then it disappeared when Arnold dowsed the flame.

“Huh,” said Aveza. “That's a pretty neat little trinket.”

“I used to play with these all the time as a child,” said Arnold, passing the lantern back to Aveza. “Always got a kick out of them.”

“I can see why… Hey, there's an engraving on the bottom.”

“Oh?” said Connor.

“Yeah. It says ‘Property of Liam and’... ‘Shay’.”

Arnold and Connor stared. “You don't think that's the Shay we're fighting do you?” said Arnold.

“Who else would it be?” said Connor.

The three were silent. Aveza set the lantern down and picked up one of the papers to check what it was. Their suspicions seemed confirmed when she saw it was a letter from Shay Cormac to Liam O’Brien dated April 7, 1749.

“It is that Shay,” she said. She started to look over the letter:

Dear Liam,

I know I should probably just wait until you get back to tell you this in person, but you know how impatient I am haha. But seriously, I just wanted to say thank you, for everything. Thank you so much for bringing me into the Assassins and welcoming me like a brother. You all have pulled me out of the roughest part of my life thus far. You all gave me a purpose in life. Now I feel like I'm actually making a difference in the world, like I'm actually helping people. And it feels amazing. And for that, I thank you, Liam. Thank you so much, from the bottom of my heart, for everything.

Your friend,
Shay Cormac

Aveza looked up and saw that Arnold and Connor had started reading some of the letters too.

“My word,” said Arnold. “That chest must've been Shay’s personal stash before he betrayed the Brotherhood.”

“I guess so,” said Aveza. “I wonder what else is in this pile of papers.” She grabbed another letter, this one dated February 13, 1756. She read this one as well:

Dear Shay,

To be honest, I'm not sure why I'm writing this. It's been almost a month since you betr... since you left us… Our spies haven't picked up any news of you, so I assume you're dead, and I'm writing to a ghost… and by God it hurts to think that.

Why Shay? Why? You were like a brother to me, to all of us. I know you were mad about whatever happened in Lisbon, I know, but if you'd just taken the time to calm your nerves and sit down and explain what happened there to us, we could've done something. Instead you let your rage take hold. You storm in accusing us of some crime you refuse to explain the details of. You try to sabotage us, and you force us to attack the man we called friend. God Shay… Why?

If you're somehow still out there, Shay, if somehow you survived the bitter winter sea, then I hope that we can meet again on peaceful terms, and maybe I can say these words to you in person instead of writing them out... I hope…

And if you're dead… I'm sorry… May God rest your soul, brother.

Your friend, and brother,
Liam O’Brien

Aveza took a moment to take the words in. She never really knew how much of an impact Shay’s betrayal had on the Assassins emotionally. All she ever knew was the stories from Connor, who himself had only heard the stories from his old mentor, Achilles. But this was straight from the pen of an Assassin, one who had been Shay’s friend. She actually found it rather sad.

The three read some more notes from various dates, some before and after the betrayal. Though, any notes from Shay cut off after the event. Aveza actually felt some sadness for her current greatest enemy. By the looks of these old notes, he seemed to be a very promising Assassin. Who knows? Perhaps if things had gone differently, he could've been the one mentoring her as an Assassin instead of Connor. But unfortunately, he put his talents to Templar plans.

She thought back to the day she eavesdropped at his mansion in Fort Arsenal. She remembered the look on his face. The look of a torn man, wondering if he made the right decisions in his long life. She pondered over this as she picked up another note, dated March 1, 1760 and read it:

Shay,

This very well could be my last letter. Achilles and I are already ready to set sail for the Precursor temple in the Arctic. I have no doubt you'll follow us, you and your army of Templar friends. I can only hope Chevalier’s distraction can hold you off long enough for us to do our thing and get out. But, even with how confident I am in the man's skills, I know you've well grown strong enough and clever enough to beat him if given the chance. Still, I hope…

Because I know that if you beat him, you'll come to face us, you'll come to try and stop us. And I can't let that happen Shay. God help me, I can't. I can't let you and your Templars get your hands on that Apple. I can't let you use it to control these lands. We're going to take it, and we're going to sink it to the bottom of the deepest ocean. Even if we have to fight you to do it. And I have a feeling that if it comes to that… only one of us is going to walk out of that temple alive.

If that person is me, if I live and you die, I'll come back here to the Homestead and burn this letter. I'll go to bed in tears and beg God to have mercy on your soul, to beg that you know that what I did, it was because I had to, to save the world. And I'm sorry. I'm so… so sorry, Shay.

If you come out of there, and you somehow find this note, then I want you to know one thing. I want to write these words now, while I'm in this state of mind, because I know when we next meet, my anger will take hold of me. I forgive you. For everything. That doesn't mean I'm not bloody furious at everything you did, but I forgive you. I forgive you for betraying us. I forgive you for killing Hope and Adéwalé and all the others. And for killing me. I hope when your time comes, we can find each other, and have the first peaceful conversation we've had in years. I hope…

Goodbye.

Liam

Aveza just stared for a while. This was the latest note in that chest before the dates stopped completely. And it was the one that she thought was the saddest. She slowly lowered the note and pondered over all the papers she had read. Shay had to kill his best friends. It was only just clicking in Aveza's mind how painful that must of been for him as well as them. Almost everyone he knew, everyone who once called him brother, died by his own blade. No wonder he looked so torn nowadays. That man was her mortal enemy, but now at least she could feel some sympathy for him. She could understand him a bit. Aveza placed that final note in her belt pouch, just to have something to think on.

“A lot of these are really depressing,” said Arnold as he put down his last note.

“Betrayal is a pain for everyone involved,” said Connor.

“Indeed…” said Aveza. “Still, even if we give Shay our sympathies, he is still a threat.”

“Indeed. As long as he lives, and as long as men like Jackson and Harrison are at his side, the liberty of everyone, Natives and whites alike, is in danger.”

Aveza nodded. She started helping her friends put everything back in the chest before putting the chest back into its hiding place.

“Welp,” said Aveza. “I feel like that's enough exploring for today, don't you think boys?”

“Indeed, my dear,” said Arnold. Connor nodded in agreement. And so the three went back upstairs and went about finding other hobbies to occupy their time. Aveza kept thinking about the notes, about Shay. She felt bad for the man she was fighting. Still, she knew she had to fight him and his men. She had to save the world from them. Or else the world would grow so much darker…

She shook the thought from her head. She needed to find something to take her mind off of it. Suddenly, she got an idea. There's one thing in this world that cheers her up more than anything else. She rushed into her room and started writing a letter to her mother. A plan for her journey to York was already taking form.

Description
April 20, 1813; Davenport Homestead, Massachusetts

“I really don't think we should be snooping around the manor like this,” Arnold said.

Aveza looked up from the drawer she was searching. “If Connor didn't want us rummaging through this place looking for trinkets then he wouldn't have let us stay here,” she said simply.

“I don't think that logic is sound…”

“Oh hush. Where's your sense of adventure?”

“I believe I left it back on the Aquila.”

Aveza laughed at that. “Fine,” she said. “Suit yourself. I'm going to keep looking though.”

The two were in the manor’s hidden basement, where most of the Assassins’ supplies were kept. If Aveza was going to find anything to cure her boredom, chances are it was down there amongst the clutter. Aveza had found several things from the past. Some of Connor's old outfits, including the one he wore during the Revolution, were still stored on the long clothes rack along the wall. On a nearby desk were souvenirs from many of Connor's fallen targets, like William Johnson, Nicholas Biddle, Thomas Hickey, and even his own father, Haytham Kenway. Little mementos to remember the Assassins’ victories. The next room on was the weapon’s room, where Connor stored all the various swords and pistols he collected over the years. But even after 32 years of owning this place, Connor never did that much to tidy up the basement. Aveza's guess was that he was too sentimental to arrange anything too differently after the death of his old mentor. She could understand that motive, though.

Besides, the clutter gave her quest to cure her boredom a little sense of adventure. She started moving some old wooden boards that had been sitting in a pile in the corner. She wiped away the decades-old dust that covered the wall beyond. To her surprise, she found a sort of hidden locked door.

“Hello,” she said. “What're you then?”

“You find something interesting?” asked Arnold.

“Yeah. There's a small hatch in the wall over here. Can you hand me your lock picks?”

“Sure thing.” Arnold reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his lockpicks. He handed them to Aveza, who used them to open the lock on the knee-high hatch. Once the locks popped open with a satisfying click, she opened the hatch, wiped away the cobwebs, and lugged out what was inside: a chest. A normal old chest with a tree symbol above the lock.

“Huh,” said Aveza. “Wonder what's in here.”

“Open it up,” said Arnold.

Aveza nodded and took the lockpicks and jabbed them into the lock on the chest. She fiddled with the mechanisms every which way, but no matter what, they wouldn't give.

“Bloody complicated lock,” she said in frustration.

“Here. Let me try,” said Arnold. She passed him the picks and he tried to open the lock. He failed just as badly as Aveza.

“Good Lord!” he said. “You're right. It is bloody complicated.

“What's the issue?” a new voice said. Aveza and Arnold turned to see Connor walking down the stairs.

“We're trying to get this chest we found open,” said Aveza. “The lock on it is bloody stubborn.”

“I see. Let me see if there's anything I can do.” Connor walked over to join them in their efforts to open the chest. He pulled out his own, much older lockpicks and got to work.

“Wait, you're not mad that we've been rummaging around your house like this?” said Arnold.

“Why would I be mad?” said Connor.

“I don't know. I mean, don't you like your personal space?”

“This land belongs to all its inhabitants. All that is on it is open to everyone, so long as we share it with everyone else.”

Arnold stared, then shrugged. “Alright. Fair enough I guess,” he said.

Connor chuckled a bit. “Besides,” he said. “I know I've done my fair share of exploring around here. I know how much fun it can be.”

Suddenly, an audible click sounded within the lock as Connor miraculously got it open.

“Got it!” he said.

“Alright mentor! Way to go!” said Aveza.

Connor smiled at her enthusiasm. He stepped back and motioned for her to open it, which she gladly did.

Within the chest was a bizarre lantern of sorts along with a stack of papers. Aveza pulled them all out. She put the papers aside and held up the lantern for her friends to see.

“What's this thing?” she asked.

“That's a magic lantern,” said Arnold.

“A what?”

“A magic lantern,” said Connor. It projects images when a picture is placed in front of its flame.”

“Here, hand it to me and I'll show you,” said Arnold.

Aveza handed the thing to him. He opened up the side to check to see if any pictures were already in there, which there were. He pulled a match out of his belt pouch and used it to light the flame inside. Then, he closed the device up and pointed it at a wall. The room was just dark enough to be able to see the image projected from the device. A drawing of soldiers battling lit up on the wall as the light shined through it. Then it disappeared when Arnold dowsed the flame.

“Huh,” said Aveza. “That's a pretty neat little trinket.”

“I used to play with these all the time as a child,” said Arnold, passing the lantern back to Aveza. “Always got a kick out of them.”

“I can see why… Hey, there's an engraving on the bottom.”

“Oh?” said Connor.

“Yeah. It says ‘Property of Liam and’... ‘Shay’.”

Arnold and Connor stared. “You don't think that's the Shay we're fighting do you?” said Arnold.

“Who else would it be?” said Connor.

The three were silent. Aveza set the lantern down and picked up one of the papers to check what it was. Their suspicions seemed confirmed when she saw it was a letter from Shay Cormac to Liam O’Brien dated April 7, 1749.

“It is that Shay,” she said. She started to look over the letter:

Dear Liam,

I know I should probably just wait until you get back to tell you this in person, but you know how impatient I am haha. But seriously, I just wanted to say thank you, for everything. Thank you so much for bringing me into the Assassins and welcoming me like a brother. You all have pulled me out of the roughest part of my life thus far. You all gave me a purpose in life. Now I feel like I'm actually making a difference in the world, like I'm actually helping people. And it feels amazing. And for that, I thank you, Liam. Thank you so much, from the bottom of my heart, for everything.

Your friend,
Shay Cormac

Aveza looked up and saw that Arnold and Connor had started reading some of the letters too.

“My word,” said Arnold. “That chest must've been Shay’s personal stash before he betrayed the Brotherhood.”

“I guess so,” said Aveza. “I wonder what else is in this pile of papers.” She grabbed another letter, this one dated February 13, 1756. She read this one as well:

Dear Shay,

To be honest, I'm not sure why I'm writing this. It's been almost a month since you betr... since you left us… Our spies haven't picked up any news of you, so I assume you're dead, and I'm writing to a ghost… and by God it hurts to think that.

Why Shay? Why? You were like a brother to me, to all of us. I know you were mad about whatever happened in Lisbon, I know, but if you'd just taken the time to calm your nerves and sit down and explain what happened there to us, we could've done something. Instead you let your rage take hold. You storm in accusing us of some crime you refuse to explain the details of. You try to sabotage us, and you force us to attack the man we called friend. God Shay… Why?

If you're somehow still out there, Shay, if somehow you survived the bitter winter sea, then I hope that we can meet again on peaceful terms, and maybe I can say these words to you in person instead of writing them out... I hope…

And if you're dead… I'm sorry… May God rest your soul, brother.

Your friend, and brother,
Liam O’Brien

Aveza took a moment to take the words in. She never really knew how much of an impact Shay’s betrayal had on the Assassins emotionally. All she ever knew was the stories from Connor, who himself had only heard the stories from his old mentor, Achilles. But this was straight from the pen of an Assassin, one who had been Shay’s friend. She actually found it rather sad.

The three read some more notes from various dates, some before and after the betrayal. Though, any notes from Shay cut off after the event. Aveza actually felt some sadness for her current greatest enemy. By the looks of these old notes, he seemed to be a very promising Assassin. Who knows? Perhaps if things had gone differently, he could've been the one mentoring her as an Assassin instead of Connor. But unfortunately, he put his talents to Templar plans.

She thought back to the day she eavesdropped at his mansion in Fort Arsenal. She remembered the look on his face. The look of a torn man, wondering if he made the right decisions in his long life. She pondered over this as she picked up another note, dated March 1, 1760 and read it:

Shay,

This very well could be my last letter. Achilles and I are already ready to set sail for the Precursor temple in the Arctic. I have no doubt you'll follow us, you and your army of Templar friends. I can only hope Chevalier’s distraction can hold you off long enough for us to do our thing and get out. But, even with how confident I am in the man's skills, I know you've well grown strong enough and clever enough to beat him if given the chance. Still, I hope…

Because I know that if you beat him, you'll come to face us, you'll come to try and stop us. And I can't let that happen Shay. God help me, I can't. I can't let you and your Templars get your hands on that Apple. I can't let you use it to control these lands. We're going to take it, and we're going to sink it to the bottom of the deepest ocean. Even if we have to fight you to do it. And I have a feeling that if it comes to that… only one of us is going to walk out of that temple alive.

If that person is me, if I live and you die, I'll come back here to the Homestead and burn this letter. I'll go to bed in tears and beg God to have mercy on your soul, to beg that you know that what I did, it was because I had to, to save the world. And I'm sorry. I'm so… so sorry, Shay.

If you come out of there, and you somehow find this note, then I want you to know one thing. I want to write these words now, while I'm in this state of mind, because I know when we next meet, my anger will take hold of me. I forgive you. For everything. That doesn't mean I'm not bloody furious at everything you did, but I forgive you. I forgive you for betraying us. I forgive you for killing Hope and Adéwalé and all the others. And for killing me. I hope when your time comes, we can find each other, and have the first peaceful conversation we've had in years. I hope…

Goodbye.

Liam

Aveza just stared for a while. This was the latest note in that chest before the dates stopped completely. And it was the one that she thought was the saddest. She slowly lowered the note and pondered over all the papers she had read. Shay had to kill his best friends. It was only just clicking in Aveza's mind how painful that must of been for him as well as them. Almost everyone he knew, everyone who once called him brother, died by his own blade. No wonder he looked so torn nowadays. That man was her mortal enemy, but now at least she could feel some sympathy for him. She could understand him a bit. Aveza placed that final note in her belt pouch, just to have something to think on.

“A lot of these are really depressing,” said Arnold as he put down his last note.

“Betrayal is a pain for everyone involved,” said Connor.

“Indeed…” said Aveza. “Still, even if we give Shay our sympathies, he is still a threat.”

“Indeed. As long as he lives, and as long as men like Jackson and Harrison are at his side, the liberty of everyone, Natives and whites alike, is in danger.”

Aveza nodded. She started helping her friends put everything back in the chest before putting the chest back into its hiding place.

“Welp,” said Aveza. “I feel like that's enough exploring for today, don't you think boys?”

“Indeed, my dear,” said Arnold. Connor nodded in agreement. And so the three went back upstairs and went about finding other hobbies to occupy their time. Aveza kept thinking about the notes, about Shay. She felt bad for the man she was fighting. Still, she knew she had to fight him and his men. She had to save the world from them. Or else the world would grow so much darker…

She shook the thought from her head. She needed to find something to take her mind off of it. Suddenly, she got an idea. There's one thing in this world that cheers her up more than anything else. She rushed into her room and started writing a letter to her mother. A plan for her journey to York was already taking form.