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November 4, 1811; Davenport Homestead, Massachusetts

Connor was looking out the window of the homestead manor at the Aquila when Aveza walked in with a knock.

“Enjoying the view?” she joked.

Connor chuckled and turned to her. “Indeed,” he said with a smile.

“You sure do love that old ship, don't you?”

“Yes. She holds a lot of memories.”

“That so?”

“Indeed. She aided the Assassins well during the Revolution.”

Aveza chuckled a bit. “Blimey, I can just imagine you,” she said. “The young and cunning Captain Kenway, slicing through the seas as his men unleashed hell upon the Templar dogs with their cannons. I'd love to see that.”

Connor chuckled. “Perhaps you will get the chance to one day. But for now, I'm afraid the Assassins need your aid somewhere else, if you feel like you are up to it.”

Aveza instinctively rubbed her shoulder. She'd spent a fair amount of time recovering, and she was ready and willing to hop into action yet again.

“Oh trust me, after being cooped up, even if I've had amazing company the whole time, I'm so ready to stretch my legs onto the battlefield again.”

Connor smiled at her enthusiasm. “Very well then,” he said. He reached over to a nearby desk and grabbed a note, which he passed to her for her to read.

“Our brothers in the western territories have been fighting against the Templars for a while now,” he said as she skimmed. “The Americans keep trying to push their conquest further and further, slaughtering any Native people in their path. Our men have been fighting to end this conquest as you know, but two of our brothers, Tecumseh and Tenskwatawa, believe they found something in the region that also needs defending.”

“What?” asked Aveza.

“I do not know. They believe it best not to write specifics at risk of Templar interception. All I know is, it's important, and Tecumseh has requested backup.”

“And you want me to be that backup?”

“Precisely. Though, I will have someone to go with you.”

“Oh? Who's that then?”

“Your friend, Arnold.”

Aveza smiled a bit. Over the past few months, Arnold had grown to be a good friend of hers. He had remained at the homestead to train with Connor, and spent a good chunk of his free time helping Aveza get back to good health. She was glad to have him along.

“He’s already be packed and ready to ride to the Indiana Territory,” said Connor. “He should be waiting for you on the edge of the property.”

Aveza nodded. “Well,” she said. “I wouldn't want to keep him waiting, then, now would I.”

Connor smiled. “Go on then,” he said. “Best of luck to both of you.”

Aveza smiled and nodded. She said goodbye to her Mentor, and then rushed to get packed for the journey. Once she was ready, she grabbed her saddlebags and darted out of the Davenport manor. She walked along the path, waving to the kind people of the little homestead village as she passed. And eventually, she made it to the edge of Connor's land. She saw Arnold, who waved to her as he pointed to one of his horses, indicating for Aveza to hop on. She smiled, slung her saddlebags onto the back of her horse, and took the reigns.

“Ready?” she asked Arnold with enthusiasm.

“Indeed,” he said, smiling.

With that, the two took their reigns and set their horses in motion, beginning the long journey ahead of them.

----------

November 7, 1811; Prophetstown, Indiana Territory

“So,” said Aveza as she and Arnold rode through the moonlit forest. “How did you get mixed up in all this? How did you get involved in the Assassins?”

“Well,” said Arnold. “It started about three years ago, when I was fifteen. My father was a naval officer in the British Army. When Napoleon's forces tried to invade England, he rushed into the fight. He fought long and hard for years, but one day my mother and I received the bad news: he had been mortally wounded during a battle... We were devastated, and in my emotional state, I ran away from home and went to follow in my father's footsteps.”

“You went to fight at sea?”

“Yes… problem was, I was bloody terrible at it. The first battle I fought in, I nearly got sliced to bits by a French soldier. And I would have been too, had it not been for a man in a blue hood that came to my rescue. That man's name was Arno Dorian, an Assassin from France that was trying to help take down Napoleon's regime from the inside-out. He saved me, and took me back to land. I guess he saw something in me, because he offered to train me, to make me a member of the Assassins. And I took his offer. I trained in Paris for a while, and I eventually learned to let go of the pain of my father's death. And just last year, I was sent here to America to fight the Templars here.”

“I must say, that's an interesting story you've got behind you.”

Arnold smiled. As did Aveza. She couldn't take her eyes off of his. But suddenly her face turned a small bit somber.

“I'm sorry about your father,” she said. “I know how you must've felt.”

Arnold’s face grew more serious. “Oh?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Aveza. “My father died when I was eleven. Hanged by some Templar dogs who attacked our family. My mother brought me to Connor, and that's when I joined the Assassins.”

“I'm so sorry for your loss, my dear.”

Aveza gave a sad smile. “It's alright. I knew my father wouldn't have wanted me to be depressed because of him, so I learned to let go of the pain.”

“I'm sure he'd be very proud of your strength.”

“Thank you, Arnold.” The two smiled silently at each other, gazing into each other's eyes, feeling each other's losses and resilience. Aveza looked ahead of her horse and broke the silence.

“We're almost there,” she said. “Prophetstown should be just up ahead.”

They kept pushing their horses forward, until eventually, they caught sight of it: the small Native settlement of Prophetstown. They kicked up their pace and rode straight into town. As they reached the entrance and tied their horses, they noticed that some of the villagers were building a sort of barrier around the town, like they were preparing for an incoming threat. Aveza and Arnold looked at each other in concern. They would have to ask about that. They walked into the town and began their search for Tecumseh and his brother.

Eventually, they found the right place in the center of the village. Aveza knocked on the entrance to the house. “Hello?” she called into the room. “Anyone home?”

“This place looks like a wreck…” mumbled Arnold. Aveza bumped him with her elbow. “Hush,” she said. “Be polite.”

“Just saying.”

Suddenly, another voice called from nearby. “Yes,” it said. “Come on in.” From another room came a man, bearing the same insignia as Aveza and Arnold. He was a bit old, and a bit short, but he walked with relative confidence. Aveza noticed the hidden blade strapped to his arm.

“Greetings, my friends,” he said as he noticed the Assassin robes of the people in front of him. “You must be Ms. Deryn and Mr. Bellamy.”

The two nodded. The man gave a quick bow. “I am Tenskwatawa,” he said. “But the people of this village call me the Prophet.” Aveza and Arnold bowed as well and introduced themselves.

“Is Tecumseh here as well?” asked Aveza. The Prophet’s face suddenly seemed to darken a bit, though he tried to hide it. “No…” he said. “My brother left a few days ago to try to recruit more of the Natives in our fight against the American Templars. He should be back sometime soon.”

Aveza and Arnold felt the Prophet's discomfort in discussing his brother. They decided to drop the subject.

“Well, we were told that you needed our assistance with an issue? Something involving something that you discovered around here?”

The Prophet nodded. “Yes. Follow me.”

The Prophet led them back to the edge of the village. “What's with the barrier that your people are putting up?” asked Aveza as she saw the villagers working on their construction project.

The Prophet pointed somewhere in the forest. “Because of what lies beyond those trees,” he said. “Not far from here, the Templars have set up camp.”

“The enemy is that close?” said Arnold.

“Indeed,” continued the Prophet. “William Henry Harrison and Joseph Daveiss have amassed a small unit of soldiers and I have every reason to believe that they intend to attack us here in Prophetstown.”

“So what should we do?” asked Aveza.

“I've already sent some of the village warriors out to deal with them. I was hoping you two could aid them.”

“Of course,” said Arnold.

“How far is the settlement?” asked Aveza.

“It’s only a few hundred yards from here. Hard to miss.”

Aveza and Arnold nodded. “We'll deal with it,” said Aveza. “No problem.”

The Prophet nodded. Aveza couldn't put her finger on it, but something didn't seem right in the way he looked, something hidden in his expression…

She ignored it for the time being however, as there were Templars to deal with. She and Arnold set out into the forest. The two decided to split up to cover more ground.

Eventually, Aveza caught sight of the warriors that the Prophet had mentioned. She scurried up beside one of them.

“Who are you?” asked the man as he clutched his musket.

“Friends,” answered Aveza. “We're here to help you with your little pest problem.”

The man seemed confused. “Why would you need to help me?”

Now Aveza seemed confused. “I mean, you're wandering into a camp of highly-trained soldiers aren't you?” she asked.

“Yes, but the Prophet's spell will protect us from their guns.”

“...I'm sorry, what?”

“The Prophet sent us out here because the Great Spirit had sent him a vision of the Americans advancing on our people. He had originally planned to meet peacefully with Harrison, but thankfully the Great Spirit made him see reason.”

Aveza felt her stomach sink a bit. Her trust in the Prophet was starting to fade a bit. Something definitely seemed wrong.

“He placed a spell on our warriors that he said would protect us from any attacks from the Americans.”

“I see…”

“Come. We're almost there.”

The two kept moving through the woods, until they eventually caught sight of the American settlement. It looked completely still. No one was preparing for battle. No one was even out of their tents. All the soldiers seemed asleep. Aveza was getting a very bad feeling. This wasn't right.

As she thought, the warrior brought up his musket and put his finger on the trigger. Before Aveza could even react, the man took aim and let off a shot towards the settlement. The bullet went through a tent, and Aveza could hear the sound of a soldier's brains getting blown out. Her jaw dropped and she looked wide-eyed at the man.

“What The bloody hell are you doing?” she yelled. She saw that the soldiers were already jumping out of their tents, reaching for their weapons, and shouting orders at each other.

“For our people!” shouted the warrior as he rushed into battle. Aveza stayed back and watched as the Americans shot him down. She swore under her breath as she started darting in the opposite direction. She could hear the shouts of both sides:

“The savages are attacking!”

“We must free our people!”

“Captain Spencer’s been shot down!”

“You cannot take our lands!”

Aveza just kept running until she heard another cry from the American side: “Daveiss! Quickly! Get over here here and help me!”

Aveza recognized that voice. It belonged to William Henry Harrison. She swore under her breath. This was probably the only chance she'd ever get to take him out. She had to risk it. She spun on her heals and darted back to the site of the attack. When she made it back, she saw that it had become an all-out battle ground. Dozens upon dozens more Native warriors had showed up to fight, and for a while they seemed to be winning, though that probably wouldn't last long.

Aveza looked over the area, and she eventually caught sight of Harrison, way too far away to even shoot him. Aveza swore again, but then she caught sight of another opportunity. Not too far from her, she saw the Templar dog, Joseph Daveiss. He was commanding his men as they fought. His sword was drawn.

“Cut them down!” he was shouting. “We cannot let the Assassins prevail!”

Aveza smiled. She grabbed her tomahawk and leapt down into the chaos of the battlefield. She cut down a few soldiers as she ran across the field. Men from both sides were slaughtering each other. Bullets soared and swords were flung. Aveza just kept running, cutting her way towards Daveiss. Soon enough, the two were face-to-face with their blades clashing.

“Assassin!” he yelled over the sounds of battle.

“Yes, that's me,” Aveza joked.

“You won’t defeat us!”

“Well, that's debatable.”

The two clashed. Aveza swung her tomahawk at Daveiss’s head, but she missed as the man ducked. Daveiss managed to cut her arms a bit, but she kept fighting. The two bloodied each other, until eventually, Aveza managed to thwack Daveiss in the head with the handle of her weapon. As the Templar stumbled, she used her chance and held her tomahawk high. Then, she swung it into his side. The man fell with a yell. And as he tried to get back up, Aveza flicked out her hidden blade, and drove it into his back. And suddenly time seemed to slow…

The sounds of battle seemed to be silenced, replaced by a mechanical humming. The battlefield itself seemed to disappear, and in its place formed a white void full of ones and zeroes and digital double helixes. Aveza lowered Daveiss to the ground. But it didn't feel like Aveza… it felt like Ava.

Somehow, Ava could feel her mind again. She still watched through the eyes of her ancestor, but that's all it felt like: watching. She no longer felt the past in the Animus’s simulation. It was just Aveza, Daveiss, and the void.

Daveiss looked up at Aveza. “It seems you have bested me, Assassin,” he coughed.

“Indeed. Your reign of terror has ended.”

Daveiss painfully chuckled. “No,” he said. It's only begun. Harrison will carry on our mission.”

“I won't allow the Templars to conquer the Natives. They deserve freedom just as much as anyone else.”

“They're savages. They don't deserve anything. They need someone like the Templars to give them a guiding hand towards civilization.”

“They are civilized. Their civilization is just different then yours.”

“You're so ignorant, child…” He breathed his last, and then died. Aveza scowled at his body. She closed his eyes.

“Different cultures are not something to fear,” she said. “They are something to embrace. Rest in peace.” She stood from the body, and suddenly the machine started humming again. Ava felt her consciousness slip away again only for it to be replaced by Aveza's. The sounds of battle returned. The void disappeared, and Aveza turned to face the soldiers that were coming towards her. She cut down a few more.

Suddenly, the soldiers facing her fell as a bullet pierced their skulls. Aveza looked in the direction of the shot, and she saw Arnold rushing towards her.

“Aveza!” he called. “Come on! We have to go! The Natives are retreating, and so should we!”

Aveza cursed again. She needed more time to get at…

“Stay strong men!” called a familiar voice nearby. “Pull back a bit! We've got them running!”

Aveza spun around and saw Harrison, who was right in her shooting range. As Arnold tried to pull her away to safety, she whipped out her gun. Harrison turned just in time to see her pull the trigger… and miss. The bullet only managed to knock Harrison’s hat off. She cursed her luck as Harrison wheeled his horse around and galloped out of sight. Aveza stomped her foot and ran to join Arnold in the retreat back to Prophetstown. No doubt the Templars would try to follow once they had their men in order. They had to warn the villagers. And they had to ask the Prophet a few questions…

------------

As the two reached Prophetstown, they could already see the panic starting to emerge in the townspeople. They marched forward to the center of town, where they saw a mob of angry warriors shouting their irritation at Tenskwatawa. Aveza pushed through to the front of the crowd, Arnold following close behind. She sauntered up to the Prophet and looked him dead in the eye.

“What in God's name was that?” she demanded. The Prophet seemed extremely nervous. He tried to speak, but Aveza cut him off.

“You said they were preparing for an attack!” she shouted. “But they weren't! They were all sleeping! You sent your men on a suicide mission!”

“I… I…” stuttered the Prophet. “I offered them protection… I…”

“Protection? You told them you'd place a bloody spell on them! No bloody armor, no bloody strategy! Just, ‘Oh, go charge on in, mates. No, you'll be fine. Have some bloody hocus-pocus!’”

The Prophet suddenly grew angry and defensive.

“Don't you mock me child!” he said. “I know what I'm doing! Those Templars were going to launch an attack eventually; they always do! I decided to stop them before they slaughtered us!”

“Well, congratulations you bloody idiot! Your little misadventure has done the complete bloody opposite! They're gathering their men right now, and they're going to destroy this place when they get here! If you hadn't been so goddamned paranoid-!”

“I am your superior! Don't talk to me like that!”

“Then don't do stupid things that get our men slaughtered!”

“You disrespectful little-!”

“Enough!” Arnold suddenly shouted. Aveza and Tenskwatawa looked at him. “Listen,” Arnold said to them. “Who did what and why will have to wait. Right now, we've got dozens of armed soldiers heading this way. What matters now is that we get the townspeople to safety. So both of you stop your bickering and let's get to it!”

Aveza and Tenskwatawa looked at him, then at each other. They bitterly nodded. Arnold was right. They had to evacuate Prophetstown before the Americans came.

“Alright then,” said Aveza. “Let's get going.”

------------

November 8, 1811; Prophetstown, Indiana Territory

Aveza and Arnold stood amongst the forest trees as they guided the last of the people of Prophetstown onto a path to safety. Once everyone was in the clear, they walked to the edge of the cliff where Tenskwatawa sat. They looked over the scenery and saw Prophetstown in the distance, completely up in flames. They watched as the last of the American troops pulled away, satisfied with their destruction.

“This turned out to be such a mess…” said Arnold.

“Indeed,” said Aveza. “It really did…”

She bowed her head in sadness, then suddenly scowled as she turned her head towards the Prophet. He continued to just sit there, saying absolutely nothing as he frowned.

Then suddenly, the moment of silence was ended by a horrified voice coming up behind them:

“What happened here?”

Description
November 4, 1811; Davenport Homestead, Massachusetts

Connor was looking out the window of the homestead manor at the Aquila when Aveza walked in with a knock.

“Enjoying the view?” she joked.

Connor chuckled and turned to her. “Indeed,” he said with a smile.

“You sure do love that old ship, don't you?”

“Yes. She holds a lot of memories.”

“That so?”

“Indeed. She aided the Assassins well during the Revolution.”

Aveza chuckled a bit. “Blimey, I can just imagine you,” she said. “The young and cunning Captain Kenway, slicing through the seas as his men unleashed hell upon the Templar dogs with their cannons. I'd love to see that.”

Connor chuckled. “Perhaps you will get the chance to one day. But for now, I'm afraid the Assassins need your aid somewhere else, if you feel like you are up to it.”

Aveza instinctively rubbed her shoulder. She'd spent a fair amount of time recovering, and she was ready and willing to hop into action yet again.

“Oh trust me, after being cooped up, even if I've had amazing company the whole time, I'm so ready to stretch my legs onto the battlefield again.”

Connor smiled at her enthusiasm. “Very well then,” he said. He reached over to a nearby desk and grabbed a note, which he passed to her for her to read.

“Our brothers in the western territories have been fighting against the Templars for a while now,” he said as she skimmed. “The Americans keep trying to push their conquest further and further, slaughtering any Native people in their path. Our men have been fighting to end this conquest as you know, but two of our brothers, Tecumseh and Tenskwatawa, believe they found something in the region that also needs defending.”

“What?” asked Aveza.

“I do not know. They believe it best not to write specifics at risk of Templar interception. All I know is, it's important, and Tecumseh has requested backup.”

“And you want me to be that backup?”

“Precisely. Though, I will have someone to go with you.”

“Oh? Who's that then?”

“Your friend, Arnold.”

Aveza smiled a bit. Over the past few months, Arnold had grown to be a good friend of hers. He had remained at the homestead to train with Connor, and spent a good chunk of his free time helping Aveza get back to good health. She was glad to have him along.

“He’s already be packed and ready to ride to the Indiana Territory,” said Connor. “He should be waiting for you on the edge of the property.”

Aveza nodded. “Well,” she said. “I wouldn't want to keep him waiting, then, now would I.”

Connor smiled. “Go on then,” he said. “Best of luck to both of you.”

Aveza smiled and nodded. She said goodbye to her Mentor, and then rushed to get packed for the journey. Once she was ready, she grabbed her saddlebags and darted out of the Davenport manor. She walked along the path, waving to the kind people of the little homestead village as she passed. And eventually, she made it to the edge of Connor's land. She saw Arnold, who waved to her as he pointed to one of his horses, indicating for Aveza to hop on. She smiled, slung her saddlebags onto the back of her horse, and took the reigns.

“Ready?” she asked Arnold with enthusiasm.

“Indeed,” he said, smiling.

With that, the two took their reigns and set their horses in motion, beginning the long journey ahead of them.

----------

November 7, 1811; Prophetstown, Indiana Territory

“So,” said Aveza as she and Arnold rode through the moonlit forest. “How did you get mixed up in all this? How did you get involved in the Assassins?”

“Well,” said Arnold. “It started about three years ago, when I was fifteen. My father was a naval officer in the British Army. When Napoleon's forces tried to invade England, he rushed into the fight. He fought long and hard for years, but one day my mother and I received the bad news: he had been mortally wounded during a battle... We were devastated, and in my emotional state, I ran away from home and went to follow in my father's footsteps.”

“You went to fight at sea?”

“Yes… problem was, I was bloody terrible at it. The first battle I fought in, I nearly got sliced to bits by a French soldier. And I would have been too, had it not been for a man in a blue hood that came to my rescue. That man's name was Arno Dorian, an Assassin from France that was trying to help take down Napoleon's regime from the inside-out. He saved me, and took me back to land. I guess he saw something in me, because he offered to train me, to make me a member of the Assassins. And I took his offer. I trained in Paris for a while, and I eventually learned to let go of the pain of my father's death. And just last year, I was sent here to America to fight the Templars here.”

“I must say, that's an interesting story you've got behind you.”

Arnold smiled. As did Aveza. She couldn't take her eyes off of his. But suddenly her face turned a small bit somber.

“I'm sorry about your father,” she said. “I know how you must've felt.”

Arnold’s face grew more serious. “Oh?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Aveza. “My father died when I was eleven. Hanged by some Templar dogs who attacked our family. My mother brought me to Connor, and that's when I joined the Assassins.”

“I'm so sorry for your loss, my dear.”

Aveza gave a sad smile. “It's alright. I knew my father wouldn't have wanted me to be depressed because of him, so I learned to let go of the pain.”

“I'm sure he'd be very proud of your strength.”

“Thank you, Arnold.” The two smiled silently at each other, gazing into each other's eyes, feeling each other's losses and resilience. Aveza looked ahead of her horse and broke the silence.

“We're almost there,” she said. “Prophetstown should be just up ahead.”

They kept pushing their horses forward, until eventually, they caught sight of it: the small Native settlement of Prophetstown. They kicked up their pace and rode straight into town. As they reached the entrance and tied their horses, they noticed that some of the villagers were building a sort of barrier around the town, like they were preparing for an incoming threat. Aveza and Arnold looked at each other in concern. They would have to ask about that. They walked into the town and began their search for Tecumseh and his brother.

Eventually, they found the right place in the center of the village. Aveza knocked on the entrance to the house. “Hello?” she called into the room. “Anyone home?”

“This place looks like a wreck…” mumbled Arnold. Aveza bumped him with her elbow. “Hush,” she said. “Be polite.”

“Just saying.”

Suddenly, another voice called from nearby. “Yes,” it said. “Come on in.” From another room came a man, bearing the same insignia as Aveza and Arnold. He was a bit old, and a bit short, but he walked with relative confidence. Aveza noticed the hidden blade strapped to his arm.

“Greetings, my friends,” he said as he noticed the Assassin robes of the people in front of him. “You must be Ms. Deryn and Mr. Bellamy.”

The two nodded. The man gave a quick bow. “I am Tenskwatawa,” he said. “But the people of this village call me the Prophet.” Aveza and Arnold bowed as well and introduced themselves.

“Is Tecumseh here as well?” asked Aveza. The Prophet’s face suddenly seemed to darken a bit, though he tried to hide it. “No…” he said. “My brother left a few days ago to try to recruit more of the Natives in our fight against the American Templars. He should be back sometime soon.”

Aveza and Arnold felt the Prophet's discomfort in discussing his brother. They decided to drop the subject.

“Well, we were told that you needed our assistance with an issue? Something involving something that you discovered around here?”

The Prophet nodded. “Yes. Follow me.”

The Prophet led them back to the edge of the village. “What's with the barrier that your people are putting up?” asked Aveza as she saw the villagers working on their construction project.

The Prophet pointed somewhere in the forest. “Because of what lies beyond those trees,” he said. “Not far from here, the Templars have set up camp.”

“The enemy is that close?” said Arnold.

“Indeed,” continued the Prophet. “William Henry Harrison and Joseph Daveiss have amassed a small unit of soldiers and I have every reason to believe that they intend to attack us here in Prophetstown.”

“So what should we do?” asked Aveza.

“I've already sent some of the village warriors out to deal with them. I was hoping you two could aid them.”

“Of course,” said Arnold.

“How far is the settlement?” asked Aveza.

“It’s only a few hundred yards from here. Hard to miss.”

Aveza and Arnold nodded. “We'll deal with it,” said Aveza. “No problem.”

The Prophet nodded. Aveza couldn't put her finger on it, but something didn't seem right in the way he looked, something hidden in his expression…

She ignored it for the time being however, as there were Templars to deal with. She and Arnold set out into the forest. The two decided to split up to cover more ground.

Eventually, Aveza caught sight of the warriors that the Prophet had mentioned. She scurried up beside one of them.

“Who are you?” asked the man as he clutched his musket.

“Friends,” answered Aveza. “We're here to help you with your little pest problem.”

The man seemed confused. “Why would you need to help me?”

Now Aveza seemed confused. “I mean, you're wandering into a camp of highly-trained soldiers aren't you?” she asked.

“Yes, but the Prophet's spell will protect us from their guns.”

“...I'm sorry, what?”

“The Prophet sent us out here because the Great Spirit had sent him a vision of the Americans advancing on our people. He had originally planned to meet peacefully with Harrison, but thankfully the Great Spirit made him see reason.”

Aveza felt her stomach sink a bit. Her trust in the Prophet was starting to fade a bit. Something definitely seemed wrong.

“He placed a spell on our warriors that he said would protect us from any attacks from the Americans.”

“I see…”

“Come. We're almost there.”

The two kept moving through the woods, until they eventually caught sight of the American settlement. It looked completely still. No one was preparing for battle. No one was even out of their tents. All the soldiers seemed asleep. Aveza was getting a very bad feeling. This wasn't right.

As she thought, the warrior brought up his musket and put his finger on the trigger. Before Aveza could even react, the man took aim and let off a shot towards the settlement. The bullet went through a tent, and Aveza could hear the sound of a soldier's brains getting blown out. Her jaw dropped and she looked wide-eyed at the man.

“What The bloody hell are you doing?” she yelled. She saw that the soldiers were already jumping out of their tents, reaching for their weapons, and shouting orders at each other.

“For our people!” shouted the warrior as he rushed into battle. Aveza stayed back and watched as the Americans shot him down. She swore under her breath as she started darting in the opposite direction. She could hear the shouts of both sides:

“The savages are attacking!”

“We must free our people!”

“Captain Spencer’s been shot down!”

“You cannot take our lands!”

Aveza just kept running until she heard another cry from the American side: “Daveiss! Quickly! Get over here here and help me!”

Aveza recognized that voice. It belonged to William Henry Harrison. She swore under her breath. This was probably the only chance she'd ever get to take him out. She had to risk it. She spun on her heals and darted back to the site of the attack. When she made it back, she saw that it had become an all-out battle ground. Dozens upon dozens more Native warriors had showed up to fight, and for a while they seemed to be winning, though that probably wouldn't last long.

Aveza looked over the area, and she eventually caught sight of Harrison, way too far away to even shoot him. Aveza swore again, but then she caught sight of another opportunity. Not too far from her, she saw the Templar dog, Joseph Daveiss. He was commanding his men as they fought. His sword was drawn.

“Cut them down!” he was shouting. “We cannot let the Assassins prevail!”

Aveza smiled. She grabbed her tomahawk and leapt down into the chaos of the battlefield. She cut down a few soldiers as she ran across the field. Men from both sides were slaughtering each other. Bullets soared and swords were flung. Aveza just kept running, cutting her way towards Daveiss. Soon enough, the two were face-to-face with their blades clashing.

“Assassin!” he yelled over the sounds of battle.

“Yes, that's me,” Aveza joked.

“You won’t defeat us!”

“Well, that's debatable.”

The two clashed. Aveza swung her tomahawk at Daveiss’s head, but she missed as the man ducked. Daveiss managed to cut her arms a bit, but she kept fighting. The two bloodied each other, until eventually, Aveza managed to thwack Daveiss in the head with the handle of her weapon. As the Templar stumbled, she used her chance and held her tomahawk high. Then, she swung it into his side. The man fell with a yell. And as he tried to get back up, Aveza flicked out her hidden blade, and drove it into his back. And suddenly time seemed to slow…

The sounds of battle seemed to be silenced, replaced by a mechanical humming. The battlefield itself seemed to disappear, and in its place formed a white void full of ones and zeroes and digital double helixes. Aveza lowered Daveiss to the ground. But it didn't feel like Aveza… it felt like Ava.

Somehow, Ava could feel her mind again. She still watched through the eyes of her ancestor, but that's all it felt like: watching. She no longer felt the past in the Animus’s simulation. It was just Aveza, Daveiss, and the void.

Daveiss looked up at Aveza. “It seems you have bested me, Assassin,” he coughed.

“Indeed. Your reign of terror has ended.”

Daveiss painfully chuckled. “No,” he said. It's only begun. Harrison will carry on our mission.”

“I won't allow the Templars to conquer the Natives. They deserve freedom just as much as anyone else.”

“They're savages. They don't deserve anything. They need someone like the Templars to give them a guiding hand towards civilization.”

“They are civilized. Their civilization is just different then yours.”

“You're so ignorant, child…” He breathed his last, and then died. Aveza scowled at his body. She closed his eyes.

“Different cultures are not something to fear,” she said. “They are something to embrace. Rest in peace.” She stood from the body, and suddenly the machine started humming again. Ava felt her consciousness slip away again only for it to be replaced by Aveza's. The sounds of battle returned. The void disappeared, and Aveza turned to face the soldiers that were coming towards her. She cut down a few more.

Suddenly, the soldiers facing her fell as a bullet pierced their skulls. Aveza looked in the direction of the shot, and she saw Arnold rushing towards her.

“Aveza!” he called. “Come on! We have to go! The Natives are retreating, and so should we!”

Aveza cursed again. She needed more time to get at…

“Stay strong men!” called a familiar voice nearby. “Pull back a bit! We've got them running!”

Aveza spun around and saw Harrison, who was right in her shooting range. As Arnold tried to pull her away to safety, she whipped out her gun. Harrison turned just in time to see her pull the trigger… and miss. The bullet only managed to knock Harrison’s hat off. She cursed her luck as Harrison wheeled his horse around and galloped out of sight. Aveza stomped her foot and ran to join Arnold in the retreat back to Prophetstown. No doubt the Templars would try to follow once they had their men in order. They had to warn the villagers. And they had to ask the Prophet a few questions…

------------

As the two reached Prophetstown, they could already see the panic starting to emerge in the townspeople. They marched forward to the center of town, where they saw a mob of angry warriors shouting their irritation at Tenskwatawa. Aveza pushed through to the front of the crowd, Arnold following close behind. She sauntered up to the Prophet and looked him dead in the eye.

“What in God's name was that?” she demanded. The Prophet seemed extremely nervous. He tried to speak, but Aveza cut him off.

“You said they were preparing for an attack!” she shouted. “But they weren't! They were all sleeping! You sent your men on a suicide mission!”

“I… I…” stuttered the Prophet. “I offered them protection… I…”

“Protection? You told them you'd place a bloody spell on them! No bloody armor, no bloody strategy! Just, ‘Oh, go charge on in, mates. No, you'll be fine. Have some bloody hocus-pocus!’”

The Prophet suddenly grew angry and defensive.

“Don't you mock me child!” he said. “I know what I'm doing! Those Templars were going to launch an attack eventually; they always do! I decided to stop them before they slaughtered us!”

“Well, congratulations you bloody idiot! Your little misadventure has done the complete bloody opposite! They're gathering their men right now, and they're going to destroy this place when they get here! If you hadn't been so goddamned paranoid-!”

“I am your superior! Don't talk to me like that!”

“Then don't do stupid things that get our men slaughtered!”

“You disrespectful little-!”

“Enough!” Arnold suddenly shouted. Aveza and Tenskwatawa looked at him. “Listen,” Arnold said to them. “Who did what and why will have to wait. Right now, we've got dozens of armed soldiers heading this way. What matters now is that we get the townspeople to safety. So both of you stop your bickering and let's get to it!”

Aveza and Tenskwatawa looked at him, then at each other. They bitterly nodded. Arnold was right. They had to evacuate Prophetstown before the Americans came.

“Alright then,” said Aveza. “Let's get going.”

------------

November 8, 1811; Prophetstown, Indiana Territory

Aveza and Arnold stood amongst the forest trees as they guided the last of the people of Prophetstown onto a path to safety. Once everyone was in the clear, they walked to the edge of the cliff where Tenskwatawa sat. They looked over the scenery and saw Prophetstown in the distance, completely up in flames. They watched as the last of the American troops pulled away, satisfied with their destruction.

“This turned out to be such a mess…” said Arnold.

“Indeed,” said Aveza. “It really did…”

She bowed her head in sadness, then suddenly scowled as she turned her head towards the Prophet. He continued to just sit there, saying absolutely nothing as he frowned.

Then suddenly, the moment of silence was ended by a horrified voice coming up behind them:

“What happened here?”