A candlemark later, Charles found himself shaking in disbelief and fury.
He had never believed himself to be capable of such...atrocity, but the proof lay within his own hands.
In a fit of anger, Charles slammed down the journal and began pacing vehemently.
These were not his memories. This was not his home. That Mary was not his head maid that he spoke to, and certainly the description of the Haytham Kenway was not of his Grandmaster.
Everything was too different. The events described did not match what he knew, and it was all too bizarre.
Rather like that green room, in fact.
What had that female voice said? That that last image he saw had promise?
It could be no coincidence that he saw the same miscarriage in that image as described in the journal. It could be no coincidence that the Connor in just a few rooms over lay dead to the world even as the Connor in the image never woke.
But what thoughts plagued Charles! How fantastical it all seemed!
A different world, where there was a Haytham Kenway, a Mary, a Connor who lived such different lives. A Charles too.
One who walked a decidedly different path that he himself.
For he was certainly not the absolutely disgusting creature that had written that journal.
He ran a trembling hand through his hair and snarled in frustration.
It was one thing to fight against one's enemies, but...
Forced marriage?
Violation and defilement in a chapel?
Even ignoring the fact that such thoughts made his skin crawl, it was about as ridiculous a manner as one could ever conceive of to gain an asset!
It was absurd to think that an Omega gained through such nefarious means could ever settle peacefully, let alone become an advantageous wife. And to expect such things of an Omega with the strength of Connor...
It was lunacy.
And Charles was revolted.
He remembered his own wedding fondly. His Connor had been radiant, and Charles had never been more happy than when Master Kenway gave him his son in safekeeping. The moment where they each swore their oaths of faithfulness and mutual support was absolutely blissful, and Charles knew that his Connor had been as happy as he.
The thought of what this Connor endured made him feel ill.
Yes, he was an Assassin here. And as shocked as Charles felt at even the thought of his dear wife becoming one of them, it still paled in comparison to the utter disgust he felt at what his counterpart in this world did.
He felt...dirty somehow.
Unclean.
Like the man had somehow reached into Charles's own happy memories of his wife and sullied them with his mere presence.
It was absolutely distasteful, and Charles longed to wash the feeling off of him.
As difficult as it may have been to have Connor as an enemy, nothing could excuse the sheer depravity of what was done to Connor.
An enemy ought be killed.
Not...
Charles shuddered.
Though this Connor was not his Connor, Charles did not think they could be so different as to warrant...
Charles stilled as a thought flitted through his mind.
This Connor was not his Connor.
This Connor was still alive.
Charles's eyes widened.
His Connor was dead, slain by that Assassin.
But this Connor was...this Connor was...
“Connor is still alive,” Charles whispered to himself in wonderment.
“Indeed he is,” came a voice from behind Charles.
He froze.
That voice...
From somewhere behind him, the safety of a pistol was released.
“I would have you turn around, so that I know exactly who it is that has invaded my office.”
Charles gulped, but slowly did as he was told.
If his suspicions were right...
He stared as the owner of the voice came into view.
This world's Charles seemed...
Old.
Strange given that Charles was actually older than his counterpart.
The other Charles stared at him in shock, mouth agape.
It was such an undignified action and looked so ridiculous on him that Charles made a quick gesture. The other Charles quickly shut his mouth.
“I admit,” his counterpart murmured, “that I had not been expecting my veritable twin to be here.”
Charles pursed his lips, annoyed at the observation.
They were nothing alike.
“I am not your twin,” he snapped.
The other Charles raised an eyebrow, though his cocked pistol did not lower.
“Oh?”
There was an unspoken question in that.
“I am from a different...” Charles trailed off, not knowing how to describe his circumstances.
How did one speak of something so utterly unbelievable?
Charles was not sure he believed it himself!
“...place.”
“I see.”
It was clear he did not.
“And what is this...place?”
Charles fidgeted.
“It is...” he struggled to find the words, eyeing the steady barrel of the pistol trained on him.
The other Charles's eyes narrowed.
“Speak, or, likeness to me or not, I will shoot you.”
Would that he could!
“It is difficult and takes much time to explain.”
The other Charles curled his finger around the trigger.
“Then find a way to simplify it. Your last chance.”
Charles considered staying silent for a moment, if only to spite his counterpart.
But he loved life too much.
Even now, bereft of family, of wife, of mentor and Order, he still loved life.
“I am you.”
And he had the satisfaction of watching the other Charles gape once more in shock.
Finding Connor 6
Chapter 5
A candlemark later, Charles found himself shaking in disbelief and fury.
He had never believed himself to be capable of such...atrocity, but the proof lay within his own hands.
In a fit of anger, Charles slammed down the journal and began pacing vehemently.
These were not his memories. This was not his home. That Mary was not his head maid that he spoke to, and certainly the description of the Haytham Kenway was not of his Grandmaster.
Everything was too different. The events described did not match what he knew, and it was all too bizarre.
Rather like that green room, in fact.
What had that female voice said? That that last image he saw had promise?
It could be no coincidence that he saw the same miscarriage in that image as described in the journal. It could be no coincidence that the Connor in just a few rooms over lay dead to the world even as the Connor in the image never woke.
But what thoughts plagued Charles! How fantastical it all seemed!
A different world, where there was a Haytham Kenway, a Mary, a Connor who lived such different lives. A Charles too.
One who walked a decidedly different path that he himself.
For he was certainly not the absolutely disgusting creature that had written that journal.
He ran a trembling hand through his hair and snarled in frustration.
It was one thing to fight against one's enemies, but...
Forced marriage?
Violation and defilement in a chapel?
Even ignoring the fact that such thoughts made his skin crawl, it was about as ridiculous a manner as one could ever conceive of to gain an asset!
It was absurd to think that an Omega gained through such nefarious means could ever settle peacefully, let alone become an advantageous wife. And to expect such things of an Omega with the strength of Connor...
It was lunacy.
And Charles was revolted.
He remembered his own wedding fondly. His Connor had been radiant, and Charles had never been more happy than when Master Kenway gave him his son in safekeeping. The moment where they each swore their oaths of faithfulness and mutual support was absolutely blissful, and Charles knew that his Connor had been as happy as he.
The thought of what this Connor endured made him feel ill.
Yes, he was an Assassin here. And as shocked as Charles felt at even the thought of his dear wife becoming one of them, it still paled in comparison to the utter disgust he felt at what his counterpart in this world did.
He felt...dirty somehow.
Unclean.
Like the man had somehow reached into Charles's own happy memories of his wife and sullied them with his mere presence.
It was absolutely distasteful, and Charles longed to wash the feeling off of him.
As difficult as it may have been to have Connor as an enemy, nothing could excuse the sheer depravity of what was done to Connor.
An enemy ought be killed.
Not...
Charles shuddered.
Though this Connor was not his Connor, Charles did not think they could be so different as to warrant...
Charles stilled as a thought flitted through his mind.
This Connor was not his Connor.
This Connor was still alive.
Charles's eyes widened.
His Connor was dead, slain by that Assassin.
But this Connor was...this Connor was...
“Connor is still alive,” Charles whispered to himself in wonderment.
“Indeed he is,” came a voice from behind Charles.
He froze.
That voice...
From somewhere behind him, the safety of a pistol was released.
“I would have you turn around, so that I know exactly who it is that has invaded my office.”
Charles gulped, but slowly did as he was told.
If his suspicions were right...
He stared as the owner of the voice came into view.
This world's Charles seemed...
Old.
Strange given that Charles was actually older than his counterpart.
The other Charles stared at him in shock, mouth agape.
It was such an undignified action and looked so ridiculous on him that Charles made a quick gesture. The other Charles quickly shut his mouth.
“I admit,” his counterpart murmured, “that I had not been expecting my veritable twin to be here.”
Charles pursed his lips, annoyed at the observation.
They were nothing alike.
“I am not your twin,” he snapped.
The other Charles raised an eyebrow, though his cocked pistol did not lower.
“Oh?”
There was an unspoken question in that.
“I am from a different...” Charles trailed off, not knowing how to describe his circumstances.
How did one speak of something so utterly unbelievable?
Charles was not sure he believed it himself!
“...place.”
“I see.”
It was clear he did not.
“And what is this...place?”
Charles fidgeted.
“It is...” he struggled to find the words, eyeing the steady barrel of the pistol trained on him.
The other Charles's eyes narrowed.
“Speak, or, likeness to me or not, I will shoot you.”
Would that he could!
“It is difficult and takes much time to explain.”
The other Charles curled his finger around the trigger.
“Then find a way to simplify it. Your last chance.”
Charles considered staying silent for a moment, if only to spite his counterpart.
But he loved life too much.
Even now, bereft of family, of wife, of mentor and Order, he still loved life.
“I am you.”
And he had the satisfaction of watching the other Charles gape once more in shock.