I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose with one hand, snapping the book I had been reading shut with the other as Altaïr burst into my room, without knocking, as usual. From sitting on his bed, Kadar sat up and looked around wildly, as if he were worried that we were being attacked.
"What do you want?" I snapped, "I'm trying to read, Altaïr."
I appraised him skeptically to see that his golden eyes were wide and frantic, his brown hair messy and sticking up in odd places. His face was flushed and he seemed to be out of breath. His chest heaved for a moment while he attempted to regain his composure.
"There's something wrong with the sky!" he gasped.
I raised an eyebrow at him. "What are you talking about?"
Altaïr grabbed my wrist and pulled me to my feet. "Come quick!"
"Can you describe what is happening without dragging me from my room?" I snapped, yanking my arm away from him and folding it across my chest.
"Stuff is falling from it." Altaïr sai
The EndIt wasn't anything special. They just had a random citizen down in the village make one, along with an engraved stone. The coffin was simple and plain, made of wood, and completely unextraordinary, completely unlike the legend it was to contain.
Ezio and Sophia carried the coffin back to the fortress, and down into Altaïr's library. They loaded the Grandmaster's bones into the coffin reverently, careful not to miss a single piece, and carried him out of the library, at long last.
Ezio closed the doors to the library, and pried the Masyaf keys carefully from the door, ringing them around Altaïr's skull like a halo, before placing the lid over the Grandmaster's body and nailing it shut.
"What are we going to do with him?" Sophia whispered, staring at the coffin.
"We are going to bury him. It is forbidden to burn him." Ezio said, after a moments thought.
Sophia nodded and helped him to lift the coffin. The two of them walked back out of the fortress of the assassins, Altaïr
Auditore Feathers"Madre?" I rapped lightly on the bedroom door. It was already ajar when I did, so it swung open slightly with a creak.
The scene before me did not surprise me in the slightest. My mother was kneeling before her bed, her hands clasped before her and her head bowed as if in prayer, but her eyes were open and staring, unseeing, at a small pile of white eagle feathers in front of her. I strode over and looked at the feathers with her for a moment before crouching down next to her. My eyes rested on another plate of uneaten food that my sister, Claudia, had left for her. I sighed; she didn't eat anything unless someone, usually Claudia, was actively feeding it to her.
"Madre, I part for Rome soon." I said, looking at her face.
She did not reply. She just continued to stare at the feathers before her, her brown eyes glazed. She didn't even acknowledge my presence; it was like I wasn't even there. I frowned, wondering if I should continue. It wasn't like she was going to respond
Life Goes On- Chapter 11"Ah, so you're the one." said a voice when Connor entered the room.
At least two dozen faces turned towards him as he slid into the room. The man standing at the front of the room glowered at Connor, and, subconsciously, Connor shrank into himself.
"I will have you know, Mr. Kenway, that lateness will not be tolerated in this school, and especially in this classroom." the teacher, Mr. Lee, said, "You may stay ten minutes late into your lunch break after class today. Now, please take your seat in the back of the room next to Miss Grandpré."
Mr. Lee pointed to one of the only empty chairs in the room, which happened to be in between the only other two students of color in the class.
Gloomily, Connor slouched to the back of the room, ignoring the nearly silent giggles from the other students as he passed, and took his seat between the African American girl with long, black braids and the Arab boy with bright blue eyes.
Mr. Lee watched him until Connor sat down, at which point he open
Life Goes On- Chapter 10After he dropped Connor off at Shaun's classroom, Haytham headed to the teacher's lounge. It was mostly empty, accept for a couple of people in the history department chatting tiredly over coffee. He had a seat at one of the empty tables and opened the file he received from Connor's social worker.
He read for the longest time, phrases such as "skittish" and "withdrawn" leaping out at him, but he could not find anything on Ziio's death.
Haytham, though he was reluctant to admit it to himself, he missed her even after all this time. They had had some, stupid fight that Haytham convinced himself that barely remembered the details of. He just remembered that, at the end of the night, Ziio had stormed off, driving away in her car, and he never saw her again. Last he heard of her until recently was that she had moved in temporarily with her mother just outside of Boston.
"Her mother," Haytham realized. "She would know what happened to Ziio."
Haytham flipped through the file som
Life Goes On- Chapter 9The exterior of the school was gray, and almost void of windows. Connor stared at it doubtfully from next to Haytham.
"I'm sorry you have to come so early." said his father, "I have to come early to prepare for my classes, and we also need to pick up your schedule."
Connor glumly followed Haytham through the front doors of the school. They entered the office where they found a woman with purplish hair sitting at a desk, typing at a computer. Connor noted that the name on her name tag read Melanie Lemay, Secretary.
"All right, Melanie?" Haytham greeted when they entered.
She looked up from her computer and smiled. "Good morning Haytham. What can I do for you?"
"I'm here to pick up Connor's schedule." Haytham said.
She nodded. "I'll print it out. Just give me a moment."
When Mrs. Lemay left, Haytham leaned over to Connor, "The principal is Mr. Mualim. He and Melanie have been friends for a while now."
"Mr. Mualim?" asked Connor.
"I have his grandson in my class. He's a senio
Life Goes On- Chapter 8"Let's start with the basics, shall we?" Haytham said slowly, noting Connor's displeasure, "Like... what's your favorite color?"
Connor hesitated. "Green."
"What kind of green?" Haytham pressed.
Again, Connor hesitated. He sighed.
"Mine is blue-gray." Haytham offered.
Connor continued to remain silent. Haytham leaned forward onto the table and peered at him.
"Look, Connor, this won't work if we don't communicate with one another." sighed Haytham.
"Forest green." said Connor, somewhat begrudgingly.
It was a start. Haytham, who had been working with children for a long time, knew that it was sometimes difficult to convince a shy child to participate. The easiest way to do this was to try to convince them to talk about themselves; usually they do so when you offer information about yourself in turn. That way they will start to trust you more, and feel more comfortable talking to you.
"What do you like to do?" asked Haytham.
"I like to climb." muttered the boy opposite.
"What kind of climb
The Bad Weather NightclubIt was a few days since the world was supposed to end, and Desmond's death. William Miles had left Rebecca and I in search of his wife to alert her of their son's death, with a promise to get in contact with us soon with further orders of what to do. With not much of an option, we found a small hotel relatively near by to stay in in New York City.
For the first couple of days the two of us stayed in our respective rooms and barely interacted with each other. After all, what was there to say? Earlier that afternoon, however, Rebecca had come knocking on my hotel bedroom door, suggesting that we go out later that night and drink in Desmond's honor.
I wasn't particularly in any mood to drink; I didn't fancy the feeling of being drunk, and was appalled that some people spent their whole lives drunk. However, I could see in Rebecca's eyes, which were bloodshot from crying, that she was serious. So I reluctantly agreed and found a small bar within walking distance.
The two of us stepped into
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