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April 19, 1812; Davenport Homestead, Massachusetts

Aveza sat at her desk, looking over the piles of books and papers in front of her. Ever since she'd returned from Prophetstown, she'd been trying to uncover any information that would lead to the location of the key to the ‘Temple of the Angels’ as she had nicknamed it. And after all these months of research… she found nothing. Just dead ends and rumors. It was getting frustrating, but she was determined.

Suddenly, someone knocked on the frame of her room's open door. She turned from her desk to see Connor.

“May I come in?” he asked.

“Of course!” said Aveza with a smile. “Come on in.”

Connor smiled and entered her room. “I am sorry to pull you away from your research, Aveza,” he said.

She shrugged. “Oh, don't worry. It's quite alright. I'm waist-deep in nothing anyways.”

“Then hopefully your schedule will allow for a mission?”

Aveza beamed. As much as she loved the Homestead and the people living on its land, she also loved getting a chance to get some action and stick it to the Templars.

“Of course!” she said, standing from her desk. “What mission did you have in mind?”

Connor smiled at her enthusiasm. “We have a target for you to assassinate,” he said. “A Templar named George Clinton.”

“The Vice President?”

“Indeed. I'm sure you're aware of his role in causing problems between the American and British governments?”

“Yes. Keeping the British Templars’ little kidnapping spree out of the eyes of Congress.”

“Indeed. Though, I'm afraid the situation has begun to worsen.”

“How do you mean?”

“We have been informed that the Templars plan to start a war between the two nations. For what reason, I do not know, but they've given Clinton the role of manipulating President Madison and the the other embittered politicians into declaring war on Britain. We can't let this happen. It could be disastrous to the Native people who are already struggling to defend their lands. I was hoping you would be able to travel to Washington DC and eliminate Clinton before he can cause any trouble.”

“Of course. I'll pack and leave as soon as possible. You can count on me.”

“I know I can. You've never let us down before. I know you'll do great.”

Aveza nodded. She started packing up her weapons and supplies into her saddlebags, and then she made her way to the stables to grab a horse and begin her journey to Washington DC.

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

April 20, 1812; Washington D.C.

Aveza arrived in Washington the next day, and after visiting a general store to stock up on supplies, she made her way towards the White House.

The White House, of course, was full of guards. But thankfully, plenty of civilians were wandering around the yard, so there were plenty of blending opportunities. Aveza figured she'd be fine so long as she didn't act out of the ordinary. Nonetheless, she stuck close to the crowds just to be sure.

She used the sixth sense that Tecumseh had taught her to locate her target. Eventually, she found him. Highlighted in a golden glow, was George Clinton. He was standing in a part of the yard that was slightly isolated from the rest, and was talking with an older man. Aveza automatically recognized him as Shay Cormac. She shut off her sense and began sneaking her way towards them to eavesdrop on their conversation.

“It’s pointless, Grand Master,” Clinton was saying when Aveza got within earshot.

“Please, Master Clinton,” Shay pleaded. “I need you to keep trying. The president must be convinced if this war is to start.”

“He won't listen though! He's just so stubborn! I've been pleading with him for weeks. Months! But even with my pleas and those of our War Hawk supporters, he is still hesitant.”

“You have to have faith, George. This conflict must ignite. Our plans cannot move forward without it doing so.”

Clinton gave a sigh. “I know, Grand Master, I know. I am trying. For the Order. For you. It's just rather difficult…”

“I know. And I thank you for your effort, George. I just ask that you keep trying. This war will be the distraction we need to find the key to this Precursor temple”

Aveza's heart skipped a beat. How did the Templars know about the Temple?

“We don't even know where this temple is yet, Grand Master,” said Clinton. Aveza relaxed a bit upon hearing that.

“But we will, George,” said Shay. “We will find it, and its key. I promise you. We won't let the Assassins get their hands on whatever is in there.”

The two stared at each other for a moment. Shay pleaded with his eyes, and Clinton let out a sigh of defeat.

“I'll keep trying, Grand Master,” he said. “I'll go speak to Madison at once.”

Shay smiled. “Thank you, George. The Order appreciates your work. I appreciate your work.”

“You're welcome, Grand Master. I'd best take my leave then. May the Father of Understanding guide you.”

“May the Father of Understanding guide you.”

The two gave each other a friendly handshake, and then Clinton began his walk towards the White House entrance. Shay lingered there for a moment, though. Aveza started to panic when she realized that he was scanning the crowds. She tried her best to stay hidden and blend with the civilians. She could've sworn he looked directly at her. She was certain he saw her, but then he turned and left.

Aveza let her breath out. She was sure that she was going to get caught. She thanked her luck and started moving in the same direction that Clinton went.

She entered the White House. There were fewer civilians to blend with indoors, so she had to be even more stealthy. She wandered the halls until she found Clinton again. This time he was talking to a different man, whom Aveza recognized as the president of the United States: James Madison. Aveza kept hidden just within hearing distance to eavesdrop on them.

“Please, President Madison,” Clinton was saying. “Surely there must be some way of changing your mind?”

“I've done the most I can, Mr. Clinton,” said Madison.

“But it's not far enough, sir! Simply expanding the military is not enough! We must do something with it!”

“I understand your thirst for war, Mr. Clinton, but I beg you to consider the implications of such a conflict.”

“Implications? Imagine what we could accomplish as a country! Imagine all the territories we could liberate from the British. We could save Canada from their tyranny!”

Aveza scowled. She'd lived in Canada most of her life. Based on what she'd seen, the British were much more willing to give liberty and justice to all than the Americans were. They weren't perfect by any means, but still.

“Believe me, I wish to avenge the wrongs that the British have done just as much as you,” said Madison, “but with all the varying chatter going on in our government's offices, it's extremely difficult to get anything passed.”

“We can sway minds, Mr. President. I'm sure that they will see reason when shown everything that the British have done. For God's sake, they're preventing us from trading with France using their navy! They're still treating us like one of their colonies! Surely that must stir up some war-hunger in them? Please, President Madison, please.”

Madison sighed. “I will speak with Congress and see what I can do,” he said. “I can make no promises, but I can try.”

“Oh, thank you sir.”

“Indeed. Now, I'm afraid I must be going. Good day to you, Mr. Clinton.”

“Good day, Mr. President.”

With that, Madison left the room to attend to whatever business needed attending to. Clinton stood there for a moment longer, thinking of what he should do next. Eventually, he settled on going for a walk. He made his way back to the yard, and Aveza followed close behind.

Outside, Clinton began his walk around the grounds of the White House. He chatted with various people as he went. Aveza noticed that he seemed to be following a routine path, and she used that to her advantage. She sat herself down on an empty bench that she noticed Clinton often walked by, and waited.

She peeked out from under her hood, watching Clinton with the eyes of an eagle. She watched as he walked farther and farther from the crowds, and closer and closer to her. She waited and waited, until eventually…

Snick!

She rammed her hidden blade into Clinton’s chest before he even had time to react. She covered his mouth so that he couldn't yell, and she lowered him into a sitting position on the bench.

Suddenly, time seemed to slow. All the sounds of the yard around her vanished and were replaced by a mechanical hum. The scenery around her was replaced by a white void full of ones and zeroes. Ava suddenly regained her consciousness as the Animus’s simulation began to deconstruct itself until only Aveza and Clinton remained.

Aveza looked down at the vice president. “How did the Templars find out about the Temple?” she asked him.

He coughed blood, and managed to chuckle a bit. “You Assassins aren't the only ones with eyes and ears everywhere,” he said.

“I won't allow you to find the key before us!”

“Oh, we'll find it, Assassin, we will. And when we open that temple, we'll take whatever power's inside.”

“And then use it to rule.”

“Well what is does one do with such power?”

“Destroy it. That's what.”

Clinton managed to chuckle again. “You're such a naive child,” he croaked. And with that, he breathed his last, and died.

Aveza closed his eyes. “The people deserve to be free,” she said. “Power does not belong in your hands, or anyone's. Rest in peace.”

She stood from the body. Ava began to feel her mind slip away again as Aveza's filled her head. The humming and the void vanished to be replaced by the sights and sounds of the White House's yard. Aveza made sure the body looked like Clinton was just lounging on the bench before leaving. She'd have a few moments before the blood soaked through his clothes to the point that it was noticeable. She knew she had to leave fast. She started making her way to the exit gate quickly, but not too quickly as to arouse suspicion. And eventually, she made it out of the yard and into the city.

She walked a fair distance away before stopping. She thought about her new situation. The Templars were now in a race against her and the Assassins to find this key. Dogs like Andrew Jackson and William Henry Harrison will still at large, slaughtering innocent Natives. And now there's a chance that the continent could be flooded by a war. The odds weren't in her favor…

Nonetheless, she stayed confident. She'd just delivered a heavy blow to the enemy, so that's good. Plus, the Templars didn't even know where the Temple was, let alone how to enter it. Aveza focused on these details, and let them fuel her optimism. She smiled at what odds she did have, and went from there. She went back to the stables and reclaimed her horse, and then began her ride back to the Davenport Homestead to meet with Connor.

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

April 21, 1812; Davenport Homestead, Massachusetts

“I have some bad news,” Aveza told Connor once she arrived at the Homestead.

“Oh?” asked Connor.

“The Templars know about the Precursor temple, and they're after the same key that we are.”

Connor's eyes widened a bit. “That is… disheartening,” he said.

“But they don't know where the Temple is yet, so at least we have that advantage.”

Connor relaxed a bit. “Good. That's good. We'll have to send some of our spies to slow any information the Templars gather on the Temple.”

“Indeed.”

“Did you manage to kill Clinton?”

“I did. He preached his last.”

“That's good to hear.”

The two smiled at each other, but Aveza's expression soon shifted to one of concern.

“I hope we weren't too late…” she said.

“What do you mean?”

“I eavesdropped on Clinton during one of his conversations with the president. And based on what I heard, Madison seems fully prepared to start a war as soon as he gets the chance.”

Connor thought about that for a moment. He grew worried. “If a war starts between the Americans and the British, things could get ugly for those we protect,” he said. “The two nations treat border changes fairly enough between themselves, but they rarely take the Natives into consideration… They could be pushed even farther off their lands…”

“They'd lose even more of what had already been stripped from them…”

“Indeed…”

“Well, whatever happens, we'll do everything we can to protect them, right?”

Connor smiled. “That's right. We will. Though a war would definitely make that more difficult…”

The two sat in silence for a moment, planning for what could come.

“Shay Cormac was there,” Aveza eventually said. Connor looked at her.

“He was?” he asked.

“Yes. He was instructing Clinton to continue to push for war. Their conversation is how I found out that the Templars were racing us to find the key.”

Connor put his finger on his chin as he thought about that.

“Have you ever met him?” Aveza asked. “Like, face-to-face I mean.”

“A few times, yes. They were not generally pleasant encounters…”

“Oh?”

“Yes. Most of them ended with a bitter, bloody fight.”

The two went quiet again. Connor sat down in a chair, and Aveza did the same.

“I remember my first encounter with him,” Connor said, reminiscing. “Way back in 1795.”

“Oi,” Aveza joked. “That's the year I was born. What you mean ‘way back’?”

Connor chuckled. “My apologies, Aveza,” he joked back. “At my age, many memories seem ‘way back’. Take comfort in the fact that you don't have as many years as me.”

Aveza laughed. “Yeah, you are kind of an old coot, mentor,” she joked.

Connor smiled and nodded. “Indeed,” he laughed. “Anyways, in 1795, I traveled to Paris to check up on our brothers in that sect. Little did I know that Shay had been sent by his order as well, looking for some old Templar book that held valuable secrets.”

“And so you had to get it before he did?”

“Right. I hunted Shay and the book with the help of a young Assassin named Arno Dorian. Have you heard of him?”

“Arnold mentioned him to me, yes.”

“He's a good man, albeit a bit stubborn at times. We eventually crossed paths with Shay… and it was a long, hard fight.” He paused. “I had heard all the stories about him before, mostly from my old mentor, Achilles. The man was a gifted Assassin… and he used that against us when he betrayed us…”

“A Templar who knows the ins and outs of the whole Brotherhood. That is definitely a threat.”

“Indeed. He became legendary in how great a fighter he was, how easily he could cut the Assassins down. I had not fully comprehended those tales until I faced him myself.”

“So how did you beat him?”

“Arno and I fought hard together, and that combined with Shay’s aging skills allowed us to take him down.”

“But you didn't kill him?”

Connor paused as he remembered the past. “No. We spared him.”

“Why?”

“Because there was no point… not at the time at least. Arno definitely wanted to kill him, to slaughter him even. Shay had been the one who killed his father, you see. The one who orphaned him when he was just ten. I guess the pain of his loss finally bubbled out of Arno when the killer was right under his blade. Shay was down, beaten and broken, but Arno wanted more. He wanted him to suffer. I stepped in to stop him before he could. There was no point. And that's not how the Assassins do things. So we gave him the same mercy that my father showed Achilles all those decades prior… including the bullet in the leg…”

“That's where he got that limp?”

“Indeed. A cold reminder from Arno of that day. I'm certain Shay still remembers.”

“And now he's back at the head of the American Rite of the Templars.”

Connor hung his head a small bit. “Yes. Unfortunately, he managed to extend his power further. And now he's more of a threat than ever…”

“Gets even worse when he has dogs like Jackson and Harrison at his side doesn't it?”

“Indeed.” He paused. “But we can stop them. No matter how strong the Templars get, no matter what they start, we'll be there to stop them. For the sake of the people. For the sake of liberty and justice. We will stop them.”

Aveza smiled. Connor smiled back.

“I know we will,” Aveza said. “I know that as long as we fight together, we can save the world.”

Description
April 19, 1812; Davenport Homestead, Massachusetts

Aveza sat at her desk, looking over the piles of books and papers in front of her. Ever since she'd returned from Prophetstown, she'd been trying to uncover any information that would lead to the location of the key to the ‘Temple of the Angels’ as she had nicknamed it. And after all these months of research… she found nothing. Just dead ends and rumors. It was getting frustrating, but she was determined.

Suddenly, someone knocked on the frame of her room's open door. She turned from her desk to see Connor.

“May I come in?” he asked.

“Of course!” said Aveza with a smile. “Come on in.”

Connor smiled and entered her room. “I am sorry to pull you away from your research, Aveza,” he said.

She shrugged. “Oh, don't worry. It's quite alright. I'm waist-deep in nothing anyways.”

“Then hopefully your schedule will allow for a mission?”

Aveza beamed. As much as she loved the Homestead and the people living on its land, she also loved getting a chance to get some action and stick it to the Templars.

“Of course!” she said, standing from her desk. “What mission did you have in mind?”

Connor smiled at her enthusiasm. “We have a target for you to assassinate,” he said. “A Templar named George Clinton.”

“The Vice President?”

“Indeed. I'm sure you're aware of his role in causing problems between the American and British governments?”

“Yes. Keeping the British Templars’ little kidnapping spree out of the eyes of Congress.”

“Indeed. Though, I'm afraid the situation has begun to worsen.”

“How do you mean?”

“We have been informed that the Templars plan to start a war between the two nations. For what reason, I do not know, but they've given Clinton the role of manipulating President Madison and the the other embittered politicians into declaring war on Britain. We can't let this happen. It could be disastrous to the Native people who are already struggling to defend their lands. I was hoping you would be able to travel to Washington DC and eliminate Clinton before he can cause any trouble.”

“Of course. I'll pack and leave as soon as possible. You can count on me.”

“I know I can. You've never let us down before. I know you'll do great.”

Aveza nodded. She started packing up her weapons and supplies into her saddlebags, and then she made her way to the stables to grab a horse and begin her journey to Washington DC.

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

April 20, 1812; Washington D.C.

Aveza arrived in Washington the next day, and after visiting a general store to stock up on supplies, she made her way towards the White House.

The White House, of course, was full of guards. But thankfully, plenty of civilians were wandering around the yard, so there were plenty of blending opportunities. Aveza figured she'd be fine so long as she didn't act out of the ordinary. Nonetheless, she stuck close to the crowds just to be sure.

She used the sixth sense that Tecumseh had taught her to locate her target. Eventually, she found him. Highlighted in a golden glow, was George Clinton. He was standing in a part of the yard that was slightly isolated from the rest, and was talking with an older man. Aveza automatically recognized him as Shay Cormac. She shut off her sense and began sneaking her way towards them to eavesdrop on their conversation.

“It’s pointless, Grand Master,” Clinton was saying when Aveza got within earshot.

“Please, Master Clinton,” Shay pleaded. “I need you to keep trying. The president must be convinced if this war is to start.”

“He won't listen though! He's just so stubborn! I've been pleading with him for weeks. Months! But even with my pleas and those of our War Hawk supporters, he is still hesitant.”

“You have to have faith, George. This conflict must ignite. Our plans cannot move forward without it doing so.”

Clinton gave a sigh. “I know, Grand Master, I know. I am trying. For the Order. For you. It's just rather difficult…”

“I know. And I thank you for your effort, George. I just ask that you keep trying. This war will be the distraction we need to find the key to this Precursor temple”

Aveza's heart skipped a beat. How did the Templars know about the Temple?

“We don't even know where this temple is yet, Grand Master,” said Clinton. Aveza relaxed a bit upon hearing that.

“But we will, George,” said Shay. “We will find it, and its key. I promise you. We won't let the Assassins get their hands on whatever is in there.”

The two stared at each other for a moment. Shay pleaded with his eyes, and Clinton let out a sigh of defeat.

“I'll keep trying, Grand Master,” he said. “I'll go speak to Madison at once.”

Shay smiled. “Thank you, George. The Order appreciates your work. I appreciate your work.”

“You're welcome, Grand Master. I'd best take my leave then. May the Father of Understanding guide you.”

“May the Father of Understanding guide you.”

The two gave each other a friendly handshake, and then Clinton began his walk towards the White House entrance. Shay lingered there for a moment, though. Aveza started to panic when she realized that he was scanning the crowds. She tried her best to stay hidden and blend with the civilians. She could've sworn he looked directly at her. She was certain he saw her, but then he turned and left.

Aveza let her breath out. She was sure that she was going to get caught. She thanked her luck and started moving in the same direction that Clinton went.

She entered the White House. There were fewer civilians to blend with indoors, so she had to be even more stealthy. She wandered the halls until she found Clinton again. This time he was talking to a different man, whom Aveza recognized as the president of the United States: James Madison. Aveza kept hidden just within hearing distance to eavesdrop on them.

“Please, President Madison,” Clinton was saying. “Surely there must be some way of changing your mind?”

“I've done the most I can, Mr. Clinton,” said Madison.

“But it's not far enough, sir! Simply expanding the military is not enough! We must do something with it!”

“I understand your thirst for war, Mr. Clinton, but I beg you to consider the implications of such a conflict.”

“Implications? Imagine what we could accomplish as a country! Imagine all the territories we could liberate from the British. We could save Canada from their tyranny!”

Aveza scowled. She'd lived in Canada most of her life. Based on what she'd seen, the British were much more willing to give liberty and justice to all than the Americans were. They weren't perfect by any means, but still.

“Believe me, I wish to avenge the wrongs that the British have done just as much as you,” said Madison, “but with all the varying chatter going on in our government's offices, it's extremely difficult to get anything passed.”

“We can sway minds, Mr. President. I'm sure that they will see reason when shown everything that the British have done. For God's sake, they're preventing us from trading with France using their navy! They're still treating us like one of their colonies! Surely that must stir up some war-hunger in them? Please, President Madison, please.”

Madison sighed. “I will speak with Congress and see what I can do,” he said. “I can make no promises, but I can try.”

“Oh, thank you sir.”

“Indeed. Now, I'm afraid I must be going. Good day to you, Mr. Clinton.”

“Good day, Mr. President.”

With that, Madison left the room to attend to whatever business needed attending to. Clinton stood there for a moment longer, thinking of what he should do next. Eventually, he settled on going for a walk. He made his way back to the yard, and Aveza followed close behind.

Outside, Clinton began his walk around the grounds of the White House. He chatted with various people as he went. Aveza noticed that he seemed to be following a routine path, and she used that to her advantage. She sat herself down on an empty bench that she noticed Clinton often walked by, and waited.

She peeked out from under her hood, watching Clinton with the eyes of an eagle. She watched as he walked farther and farther from the crowds, and closer and closer to her. She waited and waited, until eventually…

Snick!

She rammed her hidden blade into Clinton’s chest before he even had time to react. She covered his mouth so that he couldn't yell, and she lowered him into a sitting position on the bench.

Suddenly, time seemed to slow. All the sounds of the yard around her vanished and were replaced by a mechanical hum. The scenery around her was replaced by a white void full of ones and zeroes. Ava suddenly regained her consciousness as the Animus’s simulation began to deconstruct itself until only Aveza and Clinton remained.

Aveza looked down at the vice president. “How did the Templars find out about the Temple?” she asked him.

He coughed blood, and managed to chuckle a bit. “You Assassins aren't the only ones with eyes and ears everywhere,” he said.

“I won't allow you to find the key before us!”

“Oh, we'll find it, Assassin, we will. And when we open that temple, we'll take whatever power's inside.”

“And then use it to rule.”

“Well what is does one do with such power?”

“Destroy it. That's what.”

Clinton managed to chuckle again. “You're such a naive child,” he croaked. And with that, he breathed his last, and died.

Aveza closed his eyes. “The people deserve to be free,” she said. “Power does not belong in your hands, or anyone's. Rest in peace.”

She stood from the body. Ava began to feel her mind slip away again as Aveza's filled her head. The humming and the void vanished to be replaced by the sights and sounds of the White House's yard. Aveza made sure the body looked like Clinton was just lounging on the bench before leaving. She'd have a few moments before the blood soaked through his clothes to the point that it was noticeable. She knew she had to leave fast. She started making her way to the exit gate quickly, but not too quickly as to arouse suspicion. And eventually, she made it out of the yard and into the city.

She walked a fair distance away before stopping. She thought about her new situation. The Templars were now in a race against her and the Assassins to find this key. Dogs like Andrew Jackson and William Henry Harrison will still at large, slaughtering innocent Natives. And now there's a chance that the continent could be flooded by a war. The odds weren't in her favor…

Nonetheless, she stayed confident. She'd just delivered a heavy blow to the enemy, so that's good. Plus, the Templars didn't even know where the Temple was, let alone how to enter it. Aveza focused on these details, and let them fuel her optimism. She smiled at what odds she did have, and went from there. She went back to the stables and reclaimed her horse, and then began her ride back to the Davenport Homestead to meet with Connor.

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

April 21, 1812; Davenport Homestead, Massachusetts

“I have some bad news,” Aveza told Connor once she arrived at the Homestead.

“Oh?” asked Connor.

“The Templars know about the Precursor temple, and they're after the same key that we are.”

Connor's eyes widened a bit. “That is… disheartening,” he said.

“But they don't know where the Temple is yet, so at least we have that advantage.”

Connor relaxed a bit. “Good. That's good. We'll have to send some of our spies to slow any information the Templars gather on the Temple.”

“Indeed.”

“Did you manage to kill Clinton?”

“I did. He preached his last.”

“That's good to hear.”

The two smiled at each other, but Aveza's expression soon shifted to one of concern.

“I hope we weren't too late…” she said.

“What do you mean?”

“I eavesdropped on Clinton during one of his conversations with the president. And based on what I heard, Madison seems fully prepared to start a war as soon as he gets the chance.”

Connor thought about that for a moment. He grew worried. “If a war starts between the Americans and the British, things could get ugly for those we protect,” he said. “The two nations treat border changes fairly enough between themselves, but they rarely take the Natives into consideration… They could be pushed even farther off their lands…”

“They'd lose even more of what had already been stripped from them…”

“Indeed…”

“Well, whatever happens, we'll do everything we can to protect them, right?”

Connor smiled. “That's right. We will. Though a war would definitely make that more difficult…”

The two sat in silence for a moment, planning for what could come.

“Shay Cormac was there,” Aveza eventually said. Connor looked at her.

“He was?” he asked.

“Yes. He was instructing Clinton to continue to push for war. Their conversation is how I found out that the Templars were racing us to find the key.”

Connor put his finger on his chin as he thought about that.

“Have you ever met him?” Aveza asked. “Like, face-to-face I mean.”

“A few times, yes. They were not generally pleasant encounters…”

“Oh?”

“Yes. Most of them ended with a bitter, bloody fight.”

The two went quiet again. Connor sat down in a chair, and Aveza did the same.

“I remember my first encounter with him,” Connor said, reminiscing. “Way back in 1795.”

“Oi,” Aveza joked. “That's the year I was born. What you mean ‘way back’?”

Connor chuckled. “My apologies, Aveza,” he joked back. “At my age, many memories seem ‘way back’. Take comfort in the fact that you don't have as many years as me.”

Aveza laughed. “Yeah, you are kind of an old coot, mentor,” she joked.

Connor smiled and nodded. “Indeed,” he laughed. “Anyways, in 1795, I traveled to Paris to check up on our brothers in that sect. Little did I know that Shay had been sent by his order as well, looking for some old Templar book that held valuable secrets.”

“And so you had to get it before he did?”

“Right. I hunted Shay and the book with the help of a young Assassin named Arno Dorian. Have you heard of him?”

“Arnold mentioned him to me, yes.”

“He's a good man, albeit a bit stubborn at times. We eventually crossed paths with Shay… and it was a long, hard fight.” He paused. “I had heard all the stories about him before, mostly from my old mentor, Achilles. The man was a gifted Assassin… and he used that against us when he betrayed us…”

“A Templar who knows the ins and outs of the whole Brotherhood. That is definitely a threat.”

“Indeed. He became legendary in how great a fighter he was, how easily he could cut the Assassins down. I had not fully comprehended those tales until I faced him myself.”

“So how did you beat him?”

“Arno and I fought hard together, and that combined with Shay’s aging skills allowed us to take him down.”

“But you didn't kill him?”

Connor paused as he remembered the past. “No. We spared him.”

“Why?”

“Because there was no point… not at the time at least. Arno definitely wanted to kill him, to slaughter him even. Shay had been the one who killed his father, you see. The one who orphaned him when he was just ten. I guess the pain of his loss finally bubbled out of Arno when the killer was right under his blade. Shay was down, beaten and broken, but Arno wanted more. He wanted him to suffer. I stepped in to stop him before he could. There was no point. And that's not how the Assassins do things. So we gave him the same mercy that my father showed Achilles all those decades prior… including the bullet in the leg…”

“That's where he got that limp?”

“Indeed. A cold reminder from Arno of that day. I'm certain Shay still remembers.”

“And now he's back at the head of the American Rite of the Templars.”

Connor hung his head a small bit. “Yes. Unfortunately, he managed to extend his power further. And now he's more of a threat than ever…”

“Gets even worse when he has dogs like Jackson and Harrison at his side doesn't it?”

“Indeed.” He paused. “But we can stop them. No matter how strong the Templars get, no matter what they start, we'll be there to stop them. For the sake of the people. For the sake of liberty and justice. We will stop them.”

Aveza smiled. Connor smiled back.

“I know we will,” Aveza said. “I know that as long as we fight together, we can save the world.”