The Adventure Never Ends | By : A.K.O.Shifting-Shadow Category: +A through F > Assassin's Creed Views: 2266 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed. I make no profit posting this fanfiction. |
Chapter Fourteen: Maturity Realised
Desmond sometimes blushed with embarrassment when he realised just how childish he’d been in the past. To think he’d shirked his duty to the assassin brotherhood, putting himself and all of humanity in danger because he could not accept the responsibility. And worst of all was the amount of injuries Altair, Ezio, Connor and all his friends had suffered to protect him, the childish out of place American who thought he’d suffered more than anyone else by being born into the brotherhood and the gruelling training that followed.
Perhaps his father was wrong to force the assassin order upon his son, but the Templar’s would never have been merciful even if Desmond had chosen another life. He was the son of an assassin, it mattered not that he rejected the order but that he carried the blood of the order. Either way the Templar’s would have hunted him down and tortured and killed him and everyone he held dear. But even then Desmond had not grown up until Altair and Ezio. Seeing their stories, their experiences and listening to them talk had been more than a slap to the face. To know these men who suffered such losses and pain and continued to fight inspired Desmond more than the American wanted to admit.
It was time to stop feeling sorry for himself. To stop feeling weak and insignificant.
His lover’s and his friends had taught him, encouraged him to grow up and become the man they knew he could be. And now was the time to shine, to show them that all their efforts had been for the better.
“It isn't our bloodlines that determine our fate, but our own actions.” Ezio had stated. “Regardless of what anyone thought, I chose to be an assassin and although there are times that the unending killing and fighting grows to be too much I do not regret joining the fight. You see Desmond, it is not who we are that determines our legacy, it is not our bloodlines but our actions. Great men are remembered as heroes or monsters, who we are remembered as is determined by our choices from the moment we are able to make them. I was a cold-blooded murderer, a son bent on revenge for the slaughter of my family. I was a playboy determined to sate my lusts and needs on and in any prostitute I desired. But now I am a lover and a teacher and I desire only to see an end to this fight, to protect you and others like you. What I am remembered as, if I am remembered at all will be one of these things, a murderer, a son bent on revenge, a lover, a whore, a teacher or a friend. Perhaps my words are false and only time can determine who we become in the end.”
“'afealak taqarrar musayruna.” Altair had stated once. “Old men have a habit of rewriting history as they see fit. They use it to change things into the world they desire, suppressing women, children and justifying the murder of those who are different, who choose to be different or believe differently. My name may be used to justify murder or I may be forgotten as a betrayer of man. I care not for I only care that the people I surround myself with understand my goal and work with me to try and create a world where every man is free to believe what he wills.”
Both of them were right in their own way and this is what gave Desmond pause. His actions would determine the immediate fate of those around him, but also the fate of many lives in the future. Had he already changed things irreparably just by being here?
He suspected that just by being in the past he was messing with some plan. It was little more than a feeling, but at times he felt rage within the Pieces of Eden, as if something was aware and sentient and not pleased with the turn of events. Perhaps that was why history decreed that an assassin must die and because of their bloodline, it was between Desmond and Ezio. So far the fates seemed to be pointing to Ezio, but Desmond wondered if the final fight would claim his life as payment, thus ending whatever curse haunted their bloodline.
If he or one of his lovers was meant to die then Desmond would make sure it was painless, immediate and most importantly, really needed and not a manipulation by Templar’s over the age. History could, after all, be manipulated and changed by those who saw fit. So it was why he stalked the forests, sneaking into ancient Native American caves to peruse the cave paintings and written history. It was also why he trespassed into private libraries, seeking forbidden texts and other records that had become obscured or forgotten over time.
His horse, never well behaved at the best of times, was more inclined to venture home away from the dark forests and it took a firm hand to keep her well behaved. She danced beneath him, but his training helped him keep his seat and bring her back to a halt. He had to actively get her to walk instead of trot as he passed a crowd of soldiers or to sneak past natives to avoid them informing Connor of his actions.
He only let he lose when deep within the forest, far from any living person and deep within the wilderness that the Native American’s had been forced to abandon. But even out here he shared nervous energy with his horse. The sensation of eyes on him was enough to make him shiver, but searching the treeline and skyline showed nothing, no suspicious shadows or movement that was unexplained.
He was forced on many occasions to ignore the staring eyes so he could continue gathering Intel on the destiny of the Assassin Brotherhood and the Templars. And the more he looked the more he grew concerned. Everything indicated that the POE’s were somehow manipulating time, their wielders becoming nothing more than puppets programmed to cause destruction and chaos, forcing Templars and Assassin’s out of hiding and back into the fight. It was as if the POE’s wanted the death and destruction or perhaps even back then they were targeting specific bloodlines.
So the tribe Connor would later be born in had the ‘favour of the Gods’ blessing their every action and securing their future for centuries. Syria, a large country with lots of natural resources seemed to have unwavering belief in fictional Gods, citing that they were favoured by the deities and that was the reason for their success. Italy also claimed its empire, now long since fallen, was achieved through the will of the Gods. On their own they seemed irrelevant, but in sequence they followed one particular bloodline. His. Altair was born in Syria. Ezio, Italy and Connor and Desmond in America. However, Desmond knew some of his ancestors originated from England which would account for the small Island’s rise to power and the subsequent rebellion of America.
It seemed Desmond’s bloodline was always the target. At least he suspected so as he did not know who else’s bloodline had continued on. At times he hoped Malik’s bloodline had, the man was a serious, stern man and a refreshing change to the arrogant pride and ego that Altair and Ezio carried with them.
Of course, Desmond could be being melodramatic, he knew of an old friend who could also trace his bloodlines back to some of the first and notable assassins. The pair had been close friends before Desmond had abandoned the clan to try and escape assassin life. Later, the compound had been attacked and Desmond did not know the fate that had befallen his friend or his family. Strangely enough, looking back Desmond wondered if Malik was the boy’s ancestor, they shared some features and even the dark, deep soul searching look that made Altair, the great assassin, flinch. But Desmond supposed it didn’t matter now. If Kieran was dead, then Desmond’s bloodline was the only one left for the POE’s to torment.
Desmond supposed it was spiteful and rude to hope that his line was not the target but considering Ezio, Connor and Altair had been important people in history. Altair was a key part of the Syria-England war, even facing King Richard at one point to confront and kill Robert. Ezio was a key player in the politics of the assassin order, his reach extending far beyond the borders of Italy. Connor, even though currently an unknown was a key part between the civil war between England and the newly born America. Each individual of the bloodline had proven that their blood was one of the greatest and most influential in the world. So it made sense that if his ancestors had committed influential and important acts, then Desmond was due to do so as well. But by being trapped in the past he had distorted the time line, interfered with Connor’s own acts.
In other words, Connor had to face the future on his own. Ezio and Desmond could no longer interfere.
Which is why Ezio had to be stopped. The Italian thought things could go whichever way he wanted, that no one controlled his actions but him. This was not true, at least not for Altair’s bloodline, their blood had always been tainted, watched and controlled.
So Desmond now understood what he must do and why it must be done, but that did not make it easy. He’d have to turn his back on everything he swore to protect, to become something he’d always said he would not become. But worst. It would make him a traitor.
He sighed and lowered himself off his horse, she shifted and went to prance almost sending him flying but a stern tug of her reins had her stilling so he could dismount. She eyes him with her deep soul-searching eyes that all animals seemed to possess. He pets her neck and pressed his face into her fur. “I don’t know what to do girl. I don’t want to do what I must but I cannot see another choice. It is times like this I need Malik or Altair to sit with me and talk me through my thoughts.” She rumbled, seemingly in question but more likely because she was responding to his tone of voice. “But they are not here and I must make this decision on my own. I am no longer a child; I have a responsibility to set things straight. I am just not sure how this is going to do that.”
“Alan lys alwaqt almunasib lilttaraddud.”
Once Altair had made a plan he followed through. So too must Desmond, even if it broke his heart to do so. But Desmond had inherited Altair’s stubborn will and Ezio’s deep, far-reaching heart. If Desmond didn’t do his task a lot of people would die, now and in the future. Perhaps through his actions his friend, wherever he may be would survive the might of the Templar’s. Perhaps his mother, Kieran and so many others could go onto to live normal lives, not haunted by the Templar’s and their lust for power.
“La strada per l'inferno è lastricata di buone intenzioni.”
It seemed that every deed had a pro and con, some good deeds could cause some very bad things to happen. Was Desmond truly sure his task was the right one? Was he truly sure he wanted to be the one to act the task out? Was he truly ready to betray his lover? To use his older lover in such a cruel way?
“Che Ezio perdonarmi per quello che sento di dover fare.” Desmond stated aloud. He didn’t know why he begged forgiveness in Italian when no one was there to hear his words, but for a brief moment Desmond let out his pent up emotions and relaxed against his horse as he finally verbalised, at least in some part, the regret he felt.
It was almost time to act, the key Templar players were reuniting for one grand meeting, most likely to address the threat of three assassins tormenting the Americas. If all went to plan, all those greedy, self-serving fools would pay for their betrayal of humanity with their lives. But it required careful planning to make sure every piece was in place. The two unknowns were Ezio and Connor, which is where Desmond came in. It was his task to make them take their places on the board. But chances were that only one would walk away and that was if the assassins were fortunate. Everything pointed towards all three of them dying. But was that not a worthy price to pay to destroy such influential members of the Templar order?
With a sigh Desmond remounted his ride and set her off on a canter, allowing her to race home. In her eagerness, she covered more ground that they had covered when heading out. No doubt eager to return to her small herd and the safety of a warm stable and ready available food.
A journey that took almost two days took just a few short hours, something that still amazed Desmond, who still thought horses were primitive to cars. But his girl had a long stride and the eagerness to leap and jump that meant hills and obstacles meant very little to her. She was soon striding into their small village, her ears perked up as she heard horse neighs and saw Ezio’s own steed being led back to its stable. She all but pranced beneath Desmond, demanding to be released from her duties. A stable hand immediately relieved Desmond of his horse and with a grateful nod Desmond dismounted and left her to his capable hands.
Ezio was relaxing on the porch, a glass of beer in his hands and the fingers of his other hand tapping on his leg to some secret tune. He eyed Desmond with a careful gaze before seemingly relaxing further as he saw no injuries. “How was the hunt, un dolce.”
“I have news, il mio cuore.” Desmond replied. “Where is Connor?”
“At the docks, checking over the latest imports. He’d been gone for some hours, so he should be back soon.” Ezio replied. The elder man held out his hand and Desmond went willingly into the man’s arms. “What is this news?”
“I may have found a way to hit a large number of Templars within a very short time.” Desmond responded. “I have been trailing a messenger for the past day and finally managed to remove him from sight and relieve him of his burdens.” It went unspoken that this mysterious messenger would be dead, if there had really been a messenger. But Ezio trusted Desmond too much and Altair had taught Desmond how to lie convincingly. “The Templar’s are gathering in large numbers and soon. We may have only one opportunity to eliminate as many as we can and deal a blow to the Templar order.”
“Let me have a look at this paperwork.” Ezio requested.
The paperwork was not a forgery, they were the real dead, but they had been left for him to find, lying in one of the many caves Desmond had visited. If Desmond had any doubts about their mysterious stalkers, those doubts were laid to rest. The mysterious third party were real and they were manipulating the circumstances for their own end. Would these mysterious individuals destroy both the assassin order and the Templar order in one blow? Desmond did not know but something about those amber eyes and the scent of spice and incenses made him trust. Perhaps it was a foolish and stupid thing to do but Desmond knew this had to happen. But what this was, Desmond had no idea.
Connor showed up a short while later, looking rather disgruntled. “The Templars are more active on the waters, apparently some high ranking individuals are coming to America. The patrols are more regular and my ships are not managing to get through the barricades as easily as before.”
“Then it is true that we may soon have the opportunity to hit the Templar’s hard.” Ezio stated. “Come let us take a look at the map.”
As they gathered in the office Desmond made it a point not to look at the other men’s faces, instead focusing on the map as he spoke. “The church near the docks had to be closed down for renovation, so this Sunday the citizens will be heading inland for religious ceremony, this means the area around the docks will be less patrolled and no innocent civilian will be in harms way. However, Kenway also noted this and since so many Templar’s are gathering he has decided to have a meeting there in the empty church. In Haytham’s mind this is more convenient as the moment the meeting is over the Templars and their men will be shipped off around America and the nearby Islands in an effort to surround and hunt us three down. My idea is this. Since this part of town is abandoned we could use our people to stage a blockade around the church and the nearby buildings, therefore penning the Templar’s in and preventing escape. If one of us can get to the boats, we can detonate the gunpowder inside and destroy that escape. But once we’ve done that we will have chaos on our hands, the Templars will not go down easily so I thought we could use ourselves as bait. There are several large warehouses on the docks, we could set traps to cause a few to explode but we could lure a large group each to a few other warehouses. Once separated and their numbers lessened they will be easy targets.”
“It will require a lot of preparation but I know many people who would gladly set things in motion.” Connor replied. “But we have one problem. My father was raised as an assassin; he will have some sort of escape plan prepared. It is most likely he chose that church because it has several routes in and out. We could kill many of the Templar’s but the likelihood is he and Lee will escape.”
Desmond nodded. “As much as I’d like to take every Templar out in a grand explosion, it is not possible. As it is the boats and warehouses exploding will cause wide spread panic. The people cannot see us doing this or we will lose a lot of support so once we done our part we need to disappear and let the Templar’s take the blame.”
“That will still be a difficult task, the Templar’s are very good at manipulating, brainwashing and torture. They can turn almost anything to their favour.”
Desmond smirked. “That is where Haytham and his goons come in.” He answered. “I am thinking we have civilians placed in several key positions to watch Haytham and the rest of the fool Templars walk away as everything begins to explode. Once they start talking gossip and rumour will do the rest.”
“A good plan. The Templar’s have gotten where they are because they have money and a lot of influence. We take that influence away and they are nothing by power grabbing, selfish men.”
“But they will have enough influence to make most of those rumours go away, but they will be forever tainted by those rumours.” Desmond added. “In this way we gain the upper hand as we will not be associated with the disasters that they will be associated with.”
“And then we will gradually gain more support as we commit more and more good deeds for the general populace.” Ezio stated.
“But we still have to get everything in place.” Desmond stated. “And we now have only four days to do so.”
“It means we have our work cut out.” Ezio agreed. “Alright. Connor, since you have your contacts, see about having the ships and warehouses rigged to explode. Desmond, you and I will watch the Templars and see if we can keep the Templars from learning that we know about their meeting. We must also make sure the churches renovations will not finish before Sunday.”
“We will also have to make sure the meeting will still go ahead and we will need to make sure the majority of the Templar’s will be in place.” Desmond added.
“Why are the Templar’s gathering in such number.”
Ezio handed the papers to Connor. “We have had a good affect, the Templar’s are growing tired of us and have called in as many available men as they can to deal with us.” Ezio smirked. “We should take it as a compliment, that they need an army to deal with just us three.”
Not three. Desmond mentally disagreed. He was sure the third party were committing acts that had both sides blaming each other. How many people did the Templar’s think the assassins had killed compared to the number the assassins had actually killed?
The question was, what did the third party gain by inciting this final confrontation and was Desmond being a complete and utter fool by playing along?
He supposed it didn’t matter now, the plan was in motion and this opportunity, no matter how manipulated, was one that they simple couldn’t miss. The Templar’s had to be stopped, no matter the cost. But looking at Ezio and his tired expression, Desmond wondered if he would be able to go through with his betrayal.
Could there be an alternative? A way out that Desmond had not foreseen?
He had only four days to find it.
Translations:
Once again all translations are from google translate, so I apologise for any error.
Arabic
'afealak taqarrar musayruna- Our actions decide our fate.
alan lys alwaqt almunasib lilttaraddud- Now is not the time to hesitate.
Italian
La strada per l'inferno è lastricata di buone intenzioni.- The path to hell is paved with good intentions.
Che Ezio perdonarmi per quello che sento di dover fare.- May Ezio forgive me for what I feel I must do.
Un dolce- Sweet one.
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