Saga — Assassins Creed Connor

Connor’s hand rested on his tomahawk. “I fight for my village. My mother’s ghost. You stand with the men who lit that fire.”

They fought, then fought together—a temporary, hateful alliance against a common British officer. For a single, terrible moment, Connor saw what could have been: a father and son, back to back. But Haytham smiled, and the smile was a lie wrapped in silk. Assassins Creed Connor Saga

He ran. He ran until his moccasins were blood and his lungs were fire. He collapsed at the feet of a figure cloaked in white and eagle bones. Achilles Davenport, the old Assassin, looked at the boy’s fury and saw not a child, but a weapon being forged. Connor’s hand rested on his tomahawk

Connor lifted him. Carried him. Set him down before the Council of the Kanien'kehá:ka. You stand with the men who lit that fire

They met in the burning ruins of a fort. Father and son. Two men who loved the same impossible thing: a world without masters.

Connor drove the blade home. Then he wept. Not for Haytham—but for the boy who once wanted a father to hold his hand.

The elder looked at the mountains, still scarred by fire.