Morning was rather punctual in its arrival, though why, I did not know. Unfortunate, really. I could have done with the sleep.

Achilles, however, had other plans, for he was at the door bright and early, telling me to get dressed in the spare clothes he apparently kept in the wardrobe. Of course, when I looked, there were only the clothes of a young boy.

I wasn't the tallest girl, rather on the small side - and sure enough the clothes fitted. I'd never dressed in male clothes before; were breeches always this comfortable? I would have to invest in a pair of my own, I decided as I made my way, rather meekly, downstairs and through the dining room to the kitchen. Ratonhnhaké:ton leaned against the doorway and he glanced over when I passed; I purposely walked close enough to him that my shoulder brushed against him.

Why? one might ask. I will make it simple: he was cute.

"Get yourselves something to eat," Achilles said by way of greeting. "When you are both ready, meet me out at the stables."

As he limped to his study or his room or wherever it was that he mooched off to, I sat at the table and Sophia entered my memory - her soft voice, and the many lessons on the etiquette and manners a lady was expected to display.

Ratonhnhaké:ton struck me as a shy one; it came as a surprise to me when he sat next to me, lacing his fingers together. I'd seen his kind before - Indians had visited London before, the four kings had their portraits painted for all to see, with their dark hair and tanned skin and bright eyes.

Silence stretched between us, and neither of us looked the other in the eye. When it became apparent that he would not be the one to start the conversation, I said, "What do you think he will have us do?"

He shrugged. A great conversationalist, certainly.

I tried a different tactic. "How old are you?"

There was a pause before he said, "Thirteen summers. You?"

"Twelve." At least he was willing to speak. I was positive that I would curl up and die in a corner if he wasn't. I gestured to the table. "Might I interest you in–" I picked up one of the fruits– "a rather shrivelled apple? It may not be the prettiest of the bunch, but I'm sure it's got a great personality."

That cracked a smile from him, and his entire face lit up. Taking it gingerly from my hand, he asked, "Why are you here, training to become an Assassin?"

I took a bite of my own sad-looking-but-great-personality apple. "Well, it wasn't really my choice. I was told to come here, so I did. Besides, my grandfather was one, so I see it as more of carrying on the family legacy. Why are you here?"

"We are not so different, you and I," he said. "I did not get much of a choice in the deciding of my fate, either. I was told to come here, so I did."

He wasn't much of a talker either. I could already tell that Thomas would have a hard time getting along with him - Thomas was a fast-talker and generally had little patience for the quieter folk like Ratonhnhaké:ton.

Once we both had eaten, I suggested we meet the old man outside, to which he did not complain. A worn dirt path, overlooking the cliffs and the bay, led from the back door to the extensive stables where Achilles was now standing, feeding a handful of grass to a grey horse. There were two stable buildings in total, and they were connected in a perpendicular L shape. The courtyard before them had been cleared of any obstacles and carts, likely for whatever purpose Achilles had planned for us this lovely day.

And what a lovely plan he had for us that day. After an hour of verbal lecture and explanation, he had us spar one another in the blazing heat, using sticks as makeshift swords, and let me tell you something, I had never been more grateful for all the training Ryan had put me through while he still lived, God rest his soul, because with it I actually stood a chance against Ratonhnhaké:ton.

Even Achilles was impressed and teased: "You fight well for a girl."

"Considering I was taught by an old man, I shall take that as the highest of compliments." I rolled my shoulders, wincing slightly as one popped. "Are we keeping scores?"

"No." He raised his cane to examine the smooth handle. "Again."

Ratonhnhaké:ton and I faced one another, poised to strike, like a pair of cobras. We circled slowly, eyeing the other, waiting for the other to make the first move. The heat had us both panting and sweaty - what a great first impression I must be making upon him.

Getting tired of waiting for him to move, I made to strike down on his shoulder, but as swiftly as I had moved he blocked me and drove an elbow into my ribs, which made me stagger back.

He swiped at my stomach with his "blade", and I leaped back just in time, blocking the blow with my own weapon. I struck back with all of my strength, and he only just managed to block it again. Using the momentum, I kicked at his legs, which made him stumble, and I took advantage of that surprise to swing at him again.

He whirled away from me and I spun to face him, though I grew disoriented at the sudden movement. He seized the opportunity to catch me off guard by darting behind me to stab my back–

I brought my elbow back like I would strike his nose and whirled to face him, each with our "blades" against the other's throats. We stood like so, frozen and tense, breathing heavily, for a few moments, until Achilles said, "Good job. Get a drink, then give me some push ups."

The following days unfolded like so, with Achilles instructing us on what to do, occasionally stepping in to show us something, and each day passed in the blink of an eye. One of such days, after the intense training regime, I found myself sitting, cross-legged, on the large rock at the edge of the cliff overlooking the valley. The cool breeze was a relief against my burning skin.

After a few minutes, Ratonhnhaké:ton joined me, and we sat in a peaceful sort of silence, enjoying the simplicities like the clouds and the trees and each other's presence and company.

When I looked at him, he instantly looked back, so I smiled at him. "Tell me a little bit about yourself. If you're to be my fellow student, I figure we'd better get to know each other. Don't give me that look, I'll go first.

"My name is Cassandra Sophia Glade. I am twelve years old, and I'm from London in England. My parents gave me up as a child, so I was raised by my grandparents. When they died a few months ago, I came here to live with my parents. I also love raisin cookies and tea, though not together, because only heathens do that."

Ratonhnhaké:ton's dark eyes softened. "I am sorry for your loss."

"Me too."

"I suppose I am under obligation to divulge." He stretched his arms lazily. "My name is Ratonhnhaké:ton. I am thirteen years old. My village is in the Mohawk Valley. My father is Haytham Kenway, as we both know, and my mother died when I was four, at the hands of the Templars, hence why I am here now: to avenge her."

I blinked. "That turned very dark very quickly. I'm so sorry for your loss."

"As am I."

"Do you like raisin cookies?"

He cocked his head slightly. "I cannot say I have ever had them."

"I'll introduce you to them if you do something for me."

"What might that be?"

It was not a request so much as another question. "How does one not fluent in your language pronounce your name? I'm sure you would prefer for me to call you by your name and not by Ratahoogadoon."

He smiled with that cute half-smile of his. "If you would like, I can teach you."

"Please, for both of our sakes."

He pointed to the manor. "Can you climb?"

I leaned backwards a little. "No. My grandfather suffered with arthritis."

"Then I shall teach you that, too. Climbing, not arthritis."

And so life went on: every day, consistent, after our lessons and training, he would take me outside and try to teach me to climb trees.

"Watch where you put your feet," he was saying from above my head. "Avoid branches that do not look capable of holding your weight. See this one? You are going to want to avoid that, as it will snap." To prove this, he tested it with his foot to show how it bent beneath him.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped up and into the tree, following the same route he had taken - and I was grateful that he had taken the easiest path up.

Ratonhnhaké:ton's feet were not far from my head now. Using whatever muscles I had, I pushed myself up and stood, gripping the tree for support. Ratonhnhaké:ton crouched casually on the branch above me, leaning one arm against the trunk to keep his balance.

"Good job," he said

"So, going up was easy enough." I peered down, tightening my grip on the tree. "But going down shall be a problem."

"That is understandable." The leaves above me rustled as he made his way back down. "Just follow me."

He scurried down the tree like he was a little squirrel. His moccasins sent up a puff of light dust as he landed safely on the ground, looking expectantly up at me, and gave me a thumbs up.

Biting my lip, I tried to place my feet where he had placed his. All seemed to be going well until I came to the final few feet before I hit the ground, for though he had succeeded quite easily, I was smaller than him.

"Darling, I do appear to be in a conundrum," I said. "I might be too small."

"Keep trying," he said.

"No you don't understand, if I try to reach down, I'll fall."

"Let go then." When I glanced down, I saw him move to stand below me. "I will catch you," he said.

I grinned. "I don't trust you not to drop me."

He considered this for a moment. "A wise decision," he said, "however, you have little choice."

I sighed slowly. "Fine. If you drop me I'll call you Rootinhootindootin for the rest of your days."

"I really must get teaching you," he muttered. "Go to your happy place, Cassandra. Let go."

I remembered Ryan taking me to the lake just outside London. Ryan, Sophia and I used to sit on the stones, watching the lake water lap at the shore. I couldn't swim, so I would just plod along in the shallows, trailing the ends of my skirts in the water. I remembered Ryan's mighty laugh, and how, with each word he uttered, his blue eyes sparkled with amusement.

With that in mind, I let go and fell into his arms. The impact knocked all the air from me, and he stumbled slightly, but he regained his composure, likely thinking of my threat to butcher the pronunciation of his name - well, more than I already did on a daily basis.

When I got my breath back, I said, "Thank you. I suppose I shall have to take back my threat."

"Please." He placed me on my feet, keeping one arm against my back until I got my balance.

Every time I closed my eyes I could see my grandparents. When one says grandparents one would expect an elderly couple, but Ryan and Sophia were younger. Their faces were lined, yes, but only with the lines of laughter and worry - though signs of age had crept in at the corners of their kind eyes and the edges of their loving mouths. My family - gone just like that.

I thought of Ratonhnhaké:ton. He lost his mother, his only family, when he was four. Four.

How he managed to come back from that kind of loss was beyond me. Had he even come back yet, or was he still climbing? I knew nothing with certainty but this: I would be there to help him climb back out.