Silence often heralded trouble at the Kenway residence.
Haytham had long ago moved away from his family’s home in Queen Anne’s Square, but he remained close to his kin--close enough that it took him all of two seconds to realize that his father had not called him over to catch up and reminisce, even if their previous correspondence had not already suggested otherwise. An eerie quiet hung over the entire establishment, and as he bid each servant good day, they all gave him thin, tight-lipped smiles and whispered their greetings in low voices.
His mother was nowhere in sight, as was the norm when trouble was brewing--a habit she’d picked up following the attack on their home so many years ago; standing just outside the drawing room, Jenny gave him a humorless smile as he passed her. He returned the favor, nodding once, and for a moment, it looked like she was going to say something. The opportunity passed them by, however, and Haytham continued down the hall toward his father’s study.
“Haytham. I apologize for calling you back here,” Edward said in greeting, as he stepped inside the room. Seated at his desk, he gave Haytham a brief smile and gestured for him to come closer. This--this was Edward Kenway: a man who once called himself a pirate and had become an Assassin, leading his family down a troubled path filled with violence and danger.
Haytham never blamed him for it, never thought negatively about the potential consequences that their occupations might inflict. After all, there could be no greater honor than to fight as a member of the Brotherhood--to protect freedom against any and all who would encroach upon it. Even now, a strange sort of pride would swell in his chest whenever he thought of his father, even if most individuals would say that it was he, not Edward, who was the model Assassin.
“I came as quickly as I could,” he replied, coming to a halt several feet in front of his father’s desk, hands clasped behind his back. Matters related to the Brotherhood tended to take precedence in Haytham’s life, but there was an urgency in Edward’s letter that made him decide that family was to come first this time; after all, it was unusual for him to be so riled up over something. Even so, traveling across the continent took time; it had been a solid month since his father had asked him to return home.
Edward pushed a letter across the table and nodded, gesturing for Haytham to take it. Cocking an eyebrow, he strode forward and plucked it off the table. So this was what all of the fuss was about?
“A long time ago, I came across a trinket during my travels,” he started as his son scanned the document. “I wasn’t an Assassin yet, so I didn’t understand the importance of it. It was nothing more than a pretty amulet.”
“Don’t tell me: it was a Piece of Eden,” Haytham muttered, eyes lifting briefly from the paper in his hands. The contents of the letter had been brief, merely glossing over the death of one of their brothers--a man by the name of Miko; this was old news to him, even if the exact details behind the assassination were still a bit of a mystery. When he finished reading, his father nodded; so he’d been correct in his assumption.
“What did Miko have to do with this?” He paused for a moment before narrowing his eyes at Edward. “Did you give it to him for safekeeping?”
If that was the case, Miko’s death became all that much easier to understand, and the Templars were, once again, one step ahead of them.
“You know how delicate my relationship with the Brotherhood is.” Edward’s smile was fleeting, the faintest hint of bitterness creeping into his voice. “Once they found out what it was, they wouldn’t trust me with it.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about this before? For that matter, why didn’t you give it to me?”
His father’s gaze was rueful, that sad smile appearing upon his face once more. “You know perfectly well how secretive they can be about such things. In any case, I passed it on when you were still a child; I doubt the Brotherhood would have allowed me to make such an item into a Kenway heirloom.”
Haytham’s gaze flicked toward his father and then away, sighing quietly as he did so. “No, I suppose not.”
Born to an Assassin who got into more trouble for bending the Creed to his needs than not, Haytham’s ascent in the Brotherhood had been rife with trouble; the insults had flown thick and fast, and the distrust in the Kenway name ran deep--at least, it did until he proved that his own allegiances and convictions were not quite as grey as those of his father.
“What would you have me do?”
“You recall that Birch stole a book about Those Who Came Before,” Edward finally said, attention shifting away from his son. “I do not think that was the only thing he sought to take from us that night.”
It took no stretch of the imagination to figure out what his father intended to say next.
“I’m of the belief that Birch tracked the amulet to Miko, snatched it, and is now heading to the Americas.” Silence fell between the two men, heavy and uncomfortable--filled with memories from long ago, and just when Haytham thought he could take it no longer, his father continued. “I have no doubt that the Assassins will be sending someone to try and catch him, but...
“I want that person to be you.”
“This is why you called me back.” Haytham sighed and closed his eyes for a second; a faint, humorless smile toyed at his lips as he tried to make light of the situation. It all felt too heavy now--a feeling he never quite enjoyed in conversation with his father. “I should have known. You realize my affinity for the seas can hardly compare to yours. Are you so sure you don’t wish to go on this journey yourself?”
“Hah. And you think the Mentor would allow me so much freedom? Remember whom you speak to, son,” Edward said, reaching across his desk to retrieve the letter; there was now a note of humor in his voice, a lightness in his eyes that had been absent before. “Besides, I’d scarcely have a chance to enjoy the sea. I’d be shuttled over to the colonies, and then? Then there’d be nothing but land, which is more to your liking.
“No, I think this is an assignment best left to you.” The small smile that had appeared on his lips lingered for a moment longer before it finally waned, his expression growing serious once more. Edward idly smoothed his fingers over the creases in the paper, his thoughts again drawn to heavier matters. “Miko was a good man. He was one of the few who trusted me.
“Had I known that it was an item that would bring so much misfortune to those that held it, I never would have kept it in the first place.”
“When I find your trinket, what am I to do with it?” Haytham asked, his voice low.
On any other occasion, the Mentor would likely disapprove of having one of her Master Assassins leave the continent, to go haring off to the other side of the planet, but he didn’t doubt that the loss of an artifact would make for a compelling argument to send someone of his caliber after it. Haytham was also quite sure that she’d have a word or two to say about what was done with the thing after he’d found it, but as his father was making this very personal request of him, it only seemed appropriate to ask.
Edward said nothing for a moment, brow creased and eyes averted. “Get rid of it,” he finally said. His gaze swung upwards, and Haytham was struck by the intensity in his expression. “No joy can come from keeping a Piece of Eden. Those accursed things bring only sorrow.”
Siren Song [ 2 / ? ]
Silence often heralded trouble at the Kenway residence.
Haytham had long ago moved away from his family’s home in Queen Anne’s Square, but he remained close to his kin--close enough that it took him all of two seconds to realize that his father had not called him over to catch up and reminisce, even if their previous correspondence had not already suggested otherwise. An eerie quiet hung over the entire establishment, and as he bid each servant good day, they all gave him thin, tight-lipped smiles and whispered their greetings in low voices.
His mother was nowhere in sight, as was the norm when trouble was brewing--a habit she’d picked up following the attack on their home so many years ago; standing just outside the drawing room, Jenny gave him a humorless smile as he passed her. He returned the favor, nodding once, and for a moment, it looked like she was going to say something. The opportunity passed them by, however, and Haytham continued down the hall toward his father’s study.
“Haytham. I apologize for calling you back here,” Edward said in greeting, as he stepped inside the room. Seated at his desk, he gave Haytham a brief smile and gestured for him to come closer. This--this was Edward Kenway: a man who once called himself a pirate and had become an Assassin, leading his family down a troubled path filled with violence and danger.
Haytham never blamed him for it, never thought negatively about the potential consequences that their occupations might inflict. After all, there could be no greater honor than to fight as a member of the Brotherhood--to protect freedom against any and all who would encroach upon it. Even now, a strange sort of pride would swell in his chest whenever he thought of his father, even if most individuals would say that it was he, not Edward, who was the model Assassin.
“I came as quickly as I could,” he replied, coming to a halt several feet in front of his father’s desk, hands clasped behind his back. Matters related to the Brotherhood tended to take precedence in Haytham’s life, but there was an urgency in Edward’s letter that made him decide that family was to come first this time; after all, it was unusual for him to be so riled up over something. Even so, traveling across the continent took time; it had been a solid month since his father had asked him to return home.
Edward pushed a letter across the table and nodded, gesturing for Haytham to take it. Cocking an eyebrow, he strode forward and plucked it off the table. So this was what all of the fuss was about?
“A long time ago, I came across a trinket during my travels,” he started as his son scanned the document. “I wasn’t an Assassin yet, so I didn’t understand the importance of it. It was nothing more than a pretty amulet.”
“Don’t tell me: it was a Piece of Eden,” Haytham muttered, eyes lifting briefly from the paper in his hands. The contents of the letter had been brief, merely glossing over the death of one of their brothers--a man by the name of Miko; this was old news to him, even if the exact details behind the assassination were still a bit of a mystery. When he finished reading, his father nodded; so he’d been correct in his assumption.
“What did Miko have to do with this?” He paused for a moment before narrowing his eyes at Edward. “Did you give it to him for safekeeping?”
If that was the case, Miko’s death became all that much easier to understand, and the Templars were, once again, one step ahead of them.
“You know how delicate my relationship with the Brotherhood is.” Edward’s smile was fleeting, the faintest hint of bitterness creeping into his voice. “Once they found out what it was, they wouldn’t trust me with it.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about this before? For that matter, why didn’t you give it to me?”
His father’s gaze was rueful, that sad smile appearing upon his face once more. “You know perfectly well how secretive they can be about such things. In any case, I passed it on when you were still a child; I doubt the Brotherhood would have allowed me to make such an item into a Kenway heirloom.”
Haytham’s gaze flicked toward his father and then away, sighing quietly as he did so. “No, I suppose not.”
Born to an Assassin who got into more trouble for bending the Creed to his needs than not, Haytham’s ascent in the Brotherhood had been rife with trouble; the insults had flown thick and fast, and the distrust in the Kenway name ran deep--at least, it did until he proved that his own allegiances and convictions were not quite as grey as those of his father.
“What would you have me do?”
“You recall that Birch stole a book about Those Who Came Before,” Edward finally said, attention shifting away from his son. “I do not think that was the only thing he sought to take from us that night.”
It took no stretch of the imagination to figure out what his father intended to say next.
“I’m of the belief that Birch tracked the amulet to Miko, snatched it, and is now heading to the Americas.” Silence fell between the two men, heavy and uncomfortable--filled with memories from long ago, and just when Haytham thought he could take it no longer, his father continued. “I have no doubt that the Assassins will be sending someone to try and catch him, but...
“I want that person to be you.”
“This is why you called me back.” Haytham sighed and closed his eyes for a second; a faint, humorless smile toyed at his lips as he tried to make light of the situation. It all felt too heavy now--a feeling he never quite enjoyed in conversation with his father. “I should have known. You realize my affinity for the seas can hardly compare to yours. Are you so sure you don’t wish to go on this journey yourself?”
“Hah. And you think the Mentor would allow me so much freedom? Remember whom you speak to, son,” Edward said, reaching across his desk to retrieve the letter; there was now a note of humor in his voice, a lightness in his eyes that had been absent before. “Besides, I’d scarcely have a chance to enjoy the sea. I’d be shuttled over to the colonies, and then? Then there’d be nothing but land, which is more to your liking.
“No, I think this is an assignment best left to you.” The small smile that had appeared on his lips lingered for a moment longer before it finally waned, his expression growing serious once more. Edward idly smoothed his fingers over the creases in the paper, his thoughts again drawn to heavier matters. “Miko was a good man. He was one of the few who trusted me.
“Had I known that it was an item that would bring so much misfortune to those that held it, I never would have kept it in the first place.”
“When I find your trinket, what am I to do with it?” Haytham asked, his voice low.
On any other occasion, the Mentor would likely disapprove of having one of her Master Assassins leave the continent, to go haring off to the other side of the planet, but he didn’t doubt that the loss of an artifact would make for a compelling argument to send someone of his caliber after it. Haytham was also quite sure that she’d have a word or two to say about what was done with the thing after he’d found it, but as his father was making this very personal request of him, it only seemed appropriate to ask.
Edward said nothing for a moment, brow creased and eyes averted. “Get rid of it,” he finally said. His gaze swung upwards, and Haytham was struck by the intensity in his expression. “No joy can come from keeping a Piece of Eden. Those accursed things bring only sorrow.”