Chapter Text
RATED M CURRENTLY
'A magic mushroom trip, that was all it was supposed to be, and yet.. and yet those voices of old still breathe down my own neck as if the fringes of each life that came before is prickling against the edges of my senses.
The masks of old healers to the norse gods whispers from the tree of life. a sense of longing, fear, and a twinge of inquisitive to the noise just behind it.
'But why do all your voices haunt me? just why?' thought Aya as she watched the water beneath her feet as she sits beside the local river behind her home. The harsh bark of the fallen tree she's perched on scratches at her skin beneath the thin layers of clothing in the British summer heat.
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Join Aya O'donavan, on her way to understanding many aspects that tether her to her duty of what remains of global hive of The Assassins Creed brotherhood in the modern age.
Chapter 2: Prologue
Summary:
Depiction of drug use within this prologue and hints to the affects that some drugs, when ingested can have on a person.
I do not in any way shape or form condone this. But as this is part and parcel of story.
Enjoy the prologue.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Warm breath, like cinders that breathe within the depths of flames, warms the very heart and mind from within a total darkness. A weightless nothingness, dancing hues of shadows marred with hushed nonsense from whispers that spill into the void, from the melody of soft music filtering in from another room, as haunting depictions of African shaman masks begin to flicker into existence like pages being set alight, before reappearing in remnants of dark smoke. They give way to deeper hues of blackness and line work of sketches.
Yet, here in reality, the stumbling sound of two pairs of feet is truly heard, as if trying to find purchase on the wooden floorboards as they attemp to find their way back to the comfortable blanket-and-pillow nest in the living room, five steps away from where the pair currently stands. The experience of coming up is certainly not for the weak of heart, or stomach or mind, before the two bodies give up, and, with a soft thump as their guide, lower each other downward. They end up curled into one another's body on the hardwood floor, in the dark crevice of the hallway they now find themselves in. Both soothe and coo to each other as a way to relax their counterpart, and themselves, into the abyss that clutches and begins to claw further into their subconscious, barely thirty minutes into the drug-fuelled effects.
Just breathe. Everything will be OK. Just breathe. is the last bite of reality the girl of the drugged-up pair can think of to say to herself, before her mind finally gives in to the free fall and lands in the cusping hands that hold her open, like an offering to the harmonic feeling of home and total peace, as if the body and mind have been briefly plucked out of the marionette’s strings and left to float in rose-scented water, held in the same clasped and ancient hands of old gods. Invisible beings begin to lightly play the strings of violins, while others flow on the breathy notes of flutes, as the full effects of the hallucination take over her.
The whispers that, only moments ago, sang in unknown melodic notes between and beneath the humming music (which now fades out of this dimension she finds herself in), are now much louder, so loud she can finally hear and heed their calls. The hands that clasp around her close like petals on a rose, while hues of red merge with the backdrop of blackened smoke, until it becomes something more tangible. A tree blooms to her side, its very essence glowing and pulsing like a steady heartbeat.
The room around her, so dark and ominous would be a cautionary tale to most, if they found themselves here. And yet, she feels at peace where she lays on the ground.
Short black hair, like a scruffy halo, sprawls around her head. Her usual pale and sickly complexion, from stress and overuse of drugs, a crutch to the situation she found herself in on the outside, is not present here. Nor are the aches, bruises, or broken skin haphazardly held together by steri-strips; injuries that her real-world body, currently within reality, endures.
Her clothes, even here in this dimension, a loose hoodie and sweatpants, hide the broken mess she is beneath the soft fabric. She lays there with her arms out, realising that her usual ailments are not present in this realm. A broken cry of relief escapes her lips, eyes closing as a pained smile flickers onto her face, just as the voices finally descend upon her ears before cutting to silence for a few small beats.
A calm male voice speaks, as if part of the room itself.
"Aya. Wake up."
It takes her a moment to realise she’s been called upon, but when she opens her eyes and turns her head towards the loudest part of the sound, she’s almost blinded. The light from the pulsing tree is overwhelming, before a much brighter being steps out of it, as if the tree is a doorway, one that could take her much further into this place she has found her hallucinating self within.
Her hand comes up to shield her eyes. Slowly, she moves to sit up, legs crossed, squinting at the figure approaching her in a slow and cautious manner, until they’re crouched beside her. Their glowing body doesn’t dim, even as they tilt, what Aya believes to be their head, seemingly taking her in, even without eyes or any recognisably human features beyond their outline.
"I see you’re awake. Good." The voice is measured and warm, though the being glances over its shoulder, as if wary they might be watched.
"You’re safe here, Aya. The ailments that plague you outside won’t harm you here. But we don’t have long."
The being’s hand opens and flicks, producing a small ball of light within its grasp, before placing it into Aya’s lap. She sits, stunned, in silence, just taking it all in, her eyes following the orb with childlike curiosity.
There’s no warmth, no pressure, none of the sensations that physical presence should bring. It’s not until she hesitantly picks up the glowing orb with both hands that it changes. Once clasped gently in her shaking fingers, the orb becomes something heavy—made of pure glass and seemingly sub-zero in temperature. She cannot let go, no matter how much she wills herself to.
Then, blurs of images begin to bleed through. She becomes a spectre to what she’s viewing: images of pain and heartbreak, the depth of heated sand on her palms and the soles of her feet, biting at her skin as if she’s walking the very terrain being shown to her. But nothing makes sense. Faces and bodies are hazy mirages. The area around her rises like a gust of wind, and the pulsing heartbeat, glowing figure, and tree all disappear—swept away into swirling clouds and specks of luminous beads that weave within the spiral. She feels alone again.
"Life... life is all but woven out for us into the fabric of calculations made by the old gods—those who once walked amongst us as creators and owners, and who will once again. You’ll be asked to guard the one who lives two lives. Find them, before the other comes back."
The calm voice, once belonging to the glowing humanoid, now surrounds her.
"They are coming. Now fly home."
Aya’s eyes snap open at the sound of a door being opened down a long corridor, but all she sees is a flash of dark embers for eyes, and her name screamed in a tongue and voice she has never known. The wind is knocked out of her, like a powerful punch to the throat, as she’s sent reeling back into reality.
Her entire body launches upright as she gasps for air, as if suffocated by a thick pillow. Her heart races and her mind is a blur, the echo of the being’s voice, “fly home", ringing in her ears like an error message flashing on a computer screen.
Her face contorts into a grimace, teeth beginning to chatter as the cold sweat seeps from her skin. The pain she hadn’t felt during the hallucination now returns in full force. She’s back, in the hell she cannot escape from, pressed between the wall and her lover in the cramped hallway of the broken, yet outwardly clean, home they’ve shared for the last three years, as he begins to stir from his own altered state.
The scent of spring, and the sound of the world continuing outside the four walls of their small flat, as though the pair within haven’t just experienced separate trips, filter in through the open windows and into the quiet hallway. The music from the living room has long since stopped. She sits there, silent, against the wall.
Haunted by the unkind reality she has once more returned to, even if the house her friends have visited over the years appears pristine, clean, while the foundation of her relationship has been nothing but a slow, crumbling mess.
The words echo once more in her mind, as she’s gently pulled from the hardwood floor by her partner:
Fly home.
Notes:
Let me know if there is anything I can do better. i hope you enjoy this little series of mine :)
Chapter 3: Chapter 1. 5 years later.
Summary:
PTSD effects mentioned in this chapter.
For those who haven't experienced this or don't have this mental health condition, but have played the Assassins creed games, think of it like the bleeding affects. That's probably the best description that I can explain it as.
Obviously, this is different for everyone depending on what it is that their PTSD focuses on to and it can happen to anyone at anytime. this is the subtle affects that I am mentioning, that affect interpersonal relationships. however expect more symptoms to come up as this fanfic continues.
Chapter Text
5 years on, and it is nothing short of a dystopian future, something no one was expecting to happen in anyone's lifetime, when you sit down long enough to think about it. It was something only to ever happened in books, films, and other forms of entertainment that have gathered a sickening quick speed and spread in the 21st century, at least until March 2020, when the world stood still and begun to show its cracks in every form.
Covid had struck on top of the ever growing and rather permanent Aurora Borealis to the skies that did not really help with the fear of things to become permanently screwed. The earthquakes, falling of many satellites all while everyone is hidden away in homes, wars breaking out and all anyone could do is sit in their little boxes watching as things fall apart in more ways than a fortune teller could make up.
Except, barely half a year in, lock down has been lifted, somewhat. In the blistering English summer heat wave, the news of being told anyone could meet up with those select few within a secure bubble, has just been reached, things have gotten better, to some degree, depending on who you ask. But the talk of so many idiots breaking rules during the last few months of the first wave of lock downs up and down the country, was certainly chuckle worthy and heart breaking at the same time given the inability to see or be with family. Yet so many sounds could be heard up and down the seaside town of Padstow Harbour. The chattering of merry pub goers and families enjoying some freshly prepared food from the many pastry and ice cream shops scattered around the harbour and its winding streets to the sailors coming in from their last fishing trip of the day and water sports, the last of the straggling families laughing as they watch their children say goodbye to their tiny crabs friends they caught earlier that afternoon, the clattering of used little fishing rods and nets being placed into bags from a spot of crabbing all with a hint of drying seaweed and the occasional sea salt breeze whips peoples hair and clothes around them as those in the small harbour start to retire from their activities as the starts of the evening rolls in with the sun to the west begins is setting steps into the cold sea giving Padstow Harbour a warm glow of the scattering sun.
Aya, has since changed, still rather short but certainly on a healthier line of things, her skin now lightly tanned, clearer and all around heathier weight instead of how she once was, that even in the loose summer clothing that now hugs snuggly around the curves of a well fed body that's and soft muscle tone, steps out from one of the restaurants called, Greens of Padstow, after having a decent early evening meal on steady feet from several months at sea. Taking in a deep breath of the cooling sea air while stretching out what little knots she had from sitting down for far too long inside, her hair that was once short and coloured black, now certainly a healthier length and to her natural colour of chestnut brown currently thrown up. As she twists from side to side, the ripple of bops in her waist and upper back snap giving her instant relief.
“hoi-vey, eh Lanni, you coming?” she calls out over her shoulder just as younger blond haired just as stocky girl, dressed simply in a short sleeved shirt and jeans, as they step out from the restaurant's doors behind Aya, cigarette already in hand before the faint click of a lighter being brought to life.
"Yeah, yeah, right here Aya." Lanni responds as she lets out a plume of smoke as they fall into step with each other as to the small property that they, and some of the crew members of the trawler called The Altaïr 2. "Lead the way back, before the others start to get iffy with us being away for too long."
"You mean before Sue has tells us off for not doing our little jobs for Dr Chui or any of the paperwork the last few days out at sea?" Aya teases with a shit eating grin as she leads the way up and past some of the narrow, cobbled stone port streets and back towards the more windy streets towards a camp site where she, Lanni and half of the crew members have set up within the camping grounds, while the others that haven’t joined them are on the trawler that’s docked, keeping an eye on it and the expensive equipment that they have stowed on there. Lanni, can’t help but retaliate by blowing out a deep drag of smoke towards Aya, engulfing her face entirely within a plume of grey cloud, instantly making Aya’s hand come up to fan the smoke out of her face with a half-hearted scowl as she tries to cough quietly.
"Now, now, Aya, just because you’re constantly hogging the porcelain throne 90% of the time while at sea, doesn't mean I'm not doing my job. just sometimes I may skirt a few minor jobs to another day when I am tired. You however need to earn your sea legs first."
Aya shakes her head they both continue walking past the shore front and cobbled streets, car parks and warehouses. the conversation slowly whittling down to nothing but complaints about the long and up-hill walk, and the harsh sounds of short breaths, as they both keep going up and through overgrown cycle trails until they get to entrance of Dennis Cove Campsite.
“never...again…unless we take the damn car” Aya huffs out as she leans, palms down against her knees, sweat dripping down her neck and spine her hair now thrown up into a nest like bun to get it off of her skin “ It is FAR too hot to be walking…”
“You…wimp… it was only a half an hour walk” Lanni laughs out in a similar strained way from exertion herself. Her blonde hair sticking to her forehead as she leans against a tree to get her breath back before going over to Aya and taking her by the upper arm, starting to drag the pouting woman “only another…20 minutes to get to the others at the back of here and its downhill. Come on, ya big baby. Sheesh, you wouldn’t think you were 30 with how you’re acting”.
As she’s dragged behind Lanni, Aya cannot help herself by rolling her eyes and quietly and mockingly mouthing her friends’ words back before groaning and picking her feet up as they start walking towards the only mass of tents and a few cars up the woodchip and stones.
“Not my fault you're 3 years younger and love summer... for love of god, I hope it rains soon.”
"Took you two long enough to turn up! we were beginning to think you both got lost" comes a heavily thick Glaswegian accent, a tall burly looking gent wearing sweat-soaked headband, tank top and shorts with flip flops. his brown hair turning copper now because of the sun.
"Eric! nice to see ya too, ya wee fucker" Aya calls over, her southern accent slipping slightly into a Scottish accent herself, waving as her and Lanni come up to him. "and get lost? come now, this is an old haunt of mine, much like how most of Scotland is yours while I only know Glasgow from the few short years I lived up there, before you found me"
"true, but can't blame me for worryin' about you wee ones" Eric cooper responds warmly as he walks with them towards their tents that are set up in a large circle, sounds of crackling wood and the smell of fire now filling their senses as they get closer and settle into a haphazard routine with those that aren't on The Altaïr 2, Susan Drayton, Alannah Ryan, Emmanuel Barraza, Nodar Ninidze, Akaki Ninidze and Galina Voronina.
Soon enough, the sound and smell of food, drink and loud chatter fill the area within the group and songs being horribly sung out of tune as the sun sets well into the depths of the sea, clear skies above them as stars shine above them as the evening carries on, people in an out of their tent occasionally. Aya lays there, away from the others that are drinking with her head in Lanni's' lap simply enjoying the sight of the stars above, both of them watching as the constellations become clearer as the night comes in, the sound of the sea crashing against the shore and harbour walls as she feels her mind begin to settle, company that she's calls her travelling home when she's called upon to help on the trawler or in the brotherhoods affairs. She can feel herself slowly falling asleep in her friends' lap, her eyes beginning to get heavier even as the soft foot falls on grass creeps close to where she lays. before being gently nudged awake to the tent her an Lanni were sharing.
Days and weeks follow very much the same, some travelling further afield to enjoy other places of Cornwall, all while doing alternating stints over on the trawler to allow those on there a breather and land underneath their feet. That is until the main crew is called to go help Shaun, Rebecca and Layla with something. Leaving Aya and Lanni to explore themselves, well, more like Aya showing her younger friend around her old haunts that is until she takes her friend to her home village, a small place called Boscastle, a tiny village built into the crevasses of green filled hills towering over it with a river that flows from the hill tops towards the mouth of the sea at tiny port, splits the two sides of the place, the super small two way road in and out of the village often busy with parked cars turning it into a one way street, small house that her grandparents had left to her. A small 2 bed character cottage in Boscastle just up one of its quieter main streets up one of the hillsides, away from small restaurant and museums of the tiny sea side get away for tourists and potential flooding in the rainy seasons, but its home to the locals, and particularly Aya who has lived her 80% of her life.
Within this small and quaint home's boundaries, full of the smell of lavender and English roses scatters the small front garden as thick red robin hedges acting as a natural fencing around the small, whitewashed stone home. even inside the small open planned lounge and kitchenette with a log burner, there's hint of natural oak jagged rock faces, some painted some left to be on proud display throughout the house that links into the rooms and bathroom where Aya and Lanni stay for a number of weeks together, very much already in a comfortable domestic routine from being bunk mates on The Altaïr 2 trawlers.
However mid-September, out the back and past neat year over grown back garden of Aya's home where Lanni is busy cooking in the kitchen, Aya can be found lying on a fallen tree, water from a small river tickles beneath it as a gentle breeze flutters the edges of her thin trousers, her arm slung over her face after excusing herself from her home when Lanni started to cook, something about the smell of the food she was making needed cider for the dish and the smell of that alone set something off for Aya in her chest, making her need to get out, to get away from the clustered home she starting to feel trapped in as uncomfortable memories of years before started to take a hold merging reality with her personal history. Aya doesn't know how long she's been out there, her body tensed up as if waiting for a physical blow like that her mind is replaying in harsh vivid memories as echoes of the fights that were once loud as if she was there within that particular flat back up in Scotland, before being found in the middle of Glasgow's Necropolis at night by Eric Cooper.
A breath, a silent beat and the sounds around her flow in like someone turning the volume back on for her, the sound of the water before, the scratching of the harsh bark against her back and legs starting to dig in from how long she has been out there.
You're not there Aya. breathe. your home. you flew home...he wont hurt you Aya thinks as she lets out a heavy and slow sigh as she sits up on her perch, her eyes going down wards to the stream below trying to breath through the last affects of echo of visual and audiological assault that the smell of a simple cider had set her into. Yet as she stares at the glistening clear water that small fish flow through and past her above them, the small glistening of the light above her giving it almost an earthly and day like version of the night sky when the stars are out, there on the fringes as Aya's mind as she battles with the cravings of wanting nothing but the relief and calmness that weed used to give her in these times, the heat from the sun above now starting to warm her clammy and sweat soaked skin that the affects of reliving have caused, she sees the only time that she felt true peace within that relationship, the one and only thing that her minds locks onto to calm her through as a light in the metaphorical tunnel so to speak.
Old African masks glitter like whispers on the end of a kaleidoscope and merge with, what Aya has come to know over the years since researching it, as the Yggdrasil, the glowing figure once again there and the whips of the air column that followed from that, but even now the only thing she can remember from that trip is the words the glowing figure spoke:
"Guard the one who lives two lives. Find them."
"What fucking shit. it was just a stupid magic mushroom trip, that was all it was supposed to be" Aya hisses out in anger to herself before throwing a piece of bark she has accidently broke in unconscious tight grip where her hands rest on the trunk before throwing it away from her, and with a soft splash, the piece of bark gentle flows down the stream as ripples from her throw merge with the movement of the water before dissipating as if she didn't just throw it and slouching, her shoulders drooping and eyes squeezing shut as she tries to will this all away but those words still stay echoing just as loudly as the taunts and arguments of her past.
Urgh! fucking why? Why am I still plagued by this! and yet... and yet those voices of old still breathe down my own neck as if the fringes of each life that came before is prickling against the edges of my senses every time! Why do you still haunt me as much as my fucking ex?!thought Aya as she watched the water beneath her feet as she sits beside the local river behind her home. The harsh bark of the fallen tree she's perched on scratches at her skin even more so now as she presses her entire weight into it now, beneath the thin layers of clothing, in attempts to seek out some physical pain to remind her she is real, this is real, this is her reality now, not that. not whatever these memories keep showing her. she doesn't even notice Lanni come up behind her until she feels her hand tapping her hip to get Aya's attention.
"Aya, you, ok? you've been out here for 3 hours now..." Lanni's quiet but concerned voice states to her, cutting through the fog of Aya's mind.
"I'm...well, I'll be ok...and 3 hours? gods I'm sorry" Aya replies, her voice short and full of clear exhaustion.
"Don't be, you clearly need that time to go through it. at least you're getting better with removing yourself from what's triggering you, in comparison when I first met you. You were like a spicey barn kitten that's been rescued"
"Thanks for the analogy." Aya huffs unable to hide the smile. "How long you been standing there?"
"Not long, heard you talking to yourself a minute ago though. I know you hate it but clearly there's something in that trip of yours that your subconscious is needing after these moments you go through... don't try to get too stressed about it. but if you want re-harsh it out with me, let me know, but come on, let's have some dinner and don't worry the alcohol is cooked off and I've aired the house out from it" Lanni adds as she slaps Aya's hip lightly and heads off back the winding path up to the back of Aya's home.
"Thanks, Lanni." Aya smiles warmly before hopping off from her perch on the fallen trunk and following them back home.
That evening, after doing her usual routine of getting ready for bed, Aya hears Lanni speaking to someone over the phone downstairs before going down to make a cuppa.
"Ah, Aya, your mentor, Eleanor wants to speak with you" Lanni says as she catches Aya coming down to the stairs to the small open planned area in a set of P.J. shorts and a crop top showing off the subtle hidden tattoo's on her hips and lower chest like delicate lace.
"Mm, sure...gimme a sec." Aya responds tiredly before quickly making herself a cuppa tea before taking Lanni's phone that she's being handed as she steps over to the armchair before the open hearth of the fireplace while Lanni herself heads upstairs. leaving Aya to speak with Eleanor alone.
"So, Aya" Eleanor starts, Aya can already imagine the warm smile on the 70 year old ladies face as she speaks with to her "I hope your feeling, much better now that you're on land and aren't at sea like when I last saw you, as well as I hope you have seen your family in the past few weeks. However, as you probably can guess this isn't a small chit chat, but my husband, William needs you over in Portland, to help him with something as well as him saying it's about time that we stretch your wings away from the travelling crew of Susan's and Gavin's group on the Altaïr and from the small brotherhood areas that we have barely got set up there in England. Don't worry though, I will be meeting you there to get you from the designated airport in the file and to debrief you in person. However, given that here in the State's we aren't exactly letting people in unless a proper reason for visiting, given the covid situation, the file that I am sending to you now, has the story you need to keep to if the border control asks you any questions and the time of your flight. You had better get some get some sleep as you need to get up early. you have a flight to catch at 8am. remember read the email and keep it, alongside keeping a hold of your most recent covid test. and just know you will need to do another when you land"
Startled, Aya's voice hitches up a notch when she responds to her mentor.
"Oh. erm ok... hold on one second... just putting you onto loudspeaker..." and she pulls the phone away from her ear and clicking the speakerphone option before pulling out her own phone and heading to her email and seeing the notification from Eleanor with the following details of her flight. Flight no. 889 from London Heathrow to Boston, with a 3 month stay with the understanding of being at 8am tomorrow morning her mind catching up with her Eleanor's words "hold up, its tomorrow? I fly out tomorrow?"
"Yes Aya, you do. now get some rest. I'll see you at 12:30 tomorrow afternoon Aya"
"yeah ok... night El" Aya responds before putting the phone down and placing it onto the small table beside her and putting it onto charge for Lanni while Aye went through the exceptionally short email from Eleanor that looks like an email you would get from a family member about the loss within said family that reads
"Dearest Aya,
I am heartbroken to inform you of the loss of our friend, Miguel Hunt. We have been getting things together and sadly due to covid regulations, it's a small family funeral in the coming weeks, however we do wish for you to come to the wake and help us sort through their belongings and attend the funeral my love. I have bought you a ticket as attached, for an 8 o'clock flight to Boston from London Heathrow tomorrow.
He meant so much to all of us, and I’ll always remember how he treated you like the daughter he never had.
I'll meet you at Logan International Airport at 12:30 after you've landed, you don't need to bring anything.
With love.
Auntie El"
The sound of Lanni's heavy foot fall behind her on the staircase, register to Aya as she downloads the attachment before looking over her shoulder at her friend.
"She also got you on mission then?" Lanni asks over the banister, dressed in lounge clothes that could easily be either sleep or day wear.
"Yeah, off to Boston first thing to help her husband, William, with something. you?"
"Aye, back to The Altaïr tonight, got the co-ordinates as to where to meet them."
"Tonight? damn that's short notice. Do you want me to drive you to them? or they are sending a crew member to come get you?" Aya watches as Lanni comes down the stairs and towards her taking her phone from the small table.
"A lift would be good, blasting some music while travelling these hills? it would almost feel like we are a part of lord of the rings or some sort of fantasy film" Lanni chuckles with a large grin her innocent yet upbeat nature certainly welcomed and honestly it's the exact same thoughts Aya would always have as a young girl every time she visited her grandparents here in this little sleepy sea port village.
"Sounds like plan, go get your things together landline" Aya teases right back, the affectionate nickname that's come around in the past few weeks slips from her lips as Lanni heads back up the stairs to pack her belongs that she brought with her off of the Altaïr weeks ago, and have since added to "and let me get out of my pj's. where is it that you need to be dropped off at?"
they head up into their separate rooms, both immediately starting to pack things into the bags they have.
"Sennen Cove Beach, I think it’s near St. Ives? and I need to meet Susan by 10/10:30pm"
"oh god no, try Lands' End, past St. Ives."
"Sweet shit, what?"
"Yeah, it’s going to be at least an hour and a half, and 10:30 pm latest? ha that gives us exactly an hour to get there on an hour and a half journey. if I get a ticket, you're paying for it. you packed?"
"nearly just..." a short huff of Lanni straining from stuffing her suitcase to its max and the sound of the zip finally closing sounds through as Aya steps out of her own room, now just in a pair of black sweats, cardigan, and a small bag in her hand with her keys and phone "now I'm done!"
"Good, let's get you to the captain before she gets funky. but you have better call her once we have signal on the motor way to let her know our ETA" Aya states to her friend before leading them back downstairs and out of the front door to the small 2 seated car. bags being thrown into the back by Lanni as Aya starts her car up and drives.
Early 2000's music ranging from pop to emo blares from the cars speakers, both women singing their hearts out as they go down the A30 until they get to the meeting point for Lanni to meet Susan Drayton at Sennen Cove jetty within the hour and after a few short goodbyes and waving off to Lanni and Susan, Aya is soon enough back on the road, this time taking her time to get home, slower and heavier music now playing to keep herself awake. once home she stumbles in, exhaustion settling into the edges of her head as she sets 3 alarms at 2 am, 2:30 2:45 so she is awake at least and doesn't need to rush as she trudges up to her room and face plants into her mattress and falls asleep instantly.
The only thing that dances among the edges of her dreams before the first of her alarms sound off barely 2 hours later, is the embers of eyes she only saw once before.
Chapter 4: ~
Summary:
- Just in case anyone's wondering about the music. I'm trying to keep it vague as I want you, as the reader, to interpret that as your own music preferences to the style I mention. Unless I specify the bands in the text, Please let your mind wonder on the type of music that your mind conjures up in that moment, as we all have different preferences -
Edit: Thank you to The Precious Purrsian for catching certain thing that i could do to better my work on here. Really do appreciate it 🤍
Chapter Text
Pitch black, that's all Aya can see around her except the illuminated road ahead of her as she drives up mountainous road sides, the back of Eleanor's car that Aya has been loaned to use for the time being, full of various things ranging from her own personal belongings to a thick yoga mat as a more sturdier thing to sleep on, bedding and a makeshift load of groceries that she had just got and should last a few days before needing to head back down this death trap of a road, a large medical box full of several boxes of surgical masks, sanitiser and the American equivariant of PCR tests, just in case. Soft music plays quietly in the background as the scheduled rain begins to fall on her wind screen adding to the melodic beat. Her mind goes back over what's gone on the past 2 months since she has been here, particularly the last few days, and how the talk about another lock down in the States and back at home is predicted to happen at the end of this month if cases keep rising, how when she was picked up just over 4 weeks ago, jet lagged and exhausted by her mentor Eleanor Miles, nimble 5ft8, 70 year old woman that the woman's build certainly doesn't give anything away how she can still man handle Aya like a child, had drove her from Boston to a remote area outside of Portland, Maine, informing Aya, while driving, that she was going to be put through her paces by not just Eleanor but also by William, and that she was expected to work along side both of them and for them to assess where she would be better suited in the long run.
Aya pulls into a lay-by when she feels her legs and waist starting to cramp up in attempts to stretch her legs for a moment. She runs her hand through her hair as she steps out and around the car, as she pulls her hood up to protect it from the rain and leans against the bonnet of it, allowing the cold air to wake her up as she looks through a small break in the trees and into the dark abyss of the mountain range she's been driving up the past hour, her eyes slowly adjusting to the lack of light around her especially now that her head lights are off. she lets out a deep frustrated sigh in attempts to lessen the tightness in her entire body she has had lingering for the past few days since she was told in under no circumstances can she wriggle herself out of this mission, especially now that her stay in the States has been extended because of the potential 2nd lock down of the country being immanent.
- 3 days ago -
After a heavy day of running errands and following any and all subtle leads on what Abstergo were up to in their hemisphere of so many different tendrils dipped in everything they touch, whether the leads provided fruit of labour or to cut off those that don't, some of which catch information as to what happening of other pieces of Eden Aya returns to the large white structure of a farm house style home, sweaty, tired and a heavy feeling of a migraine starting to set from the lack of sleep coming back to a large farm house that she's been staying at with Eleanor and William Miles until a week into her being there, when Shaun and Rebecca had come over, their conversations hushed and kept away from Aya and Eleanor for, at that time, for the moment. However, Aya noticed the next day everyone bar her was aware of whatever Shaun and Rebecca had come to talk about. All of them together in too large of a house than Aya will ever be used to for nearly 2 months. even if she was mostly around her mentor, Eleanor, more than the others.
But tonight it seems it's finally time for Aya to be brought into it.
"Aya, a word" Williams stoic and dread inducing of a voice calls to her from the end of the corridor to Aya's back when she's barely stepped over the threshold, the front door letting in the autumn air into the overly warm home causing Aya to glare as she looks up just in time to see him step into room behind him, the door cracked just a little to causing different hues of what looks to be screen and warm lamp lights to spill into the dark corridor that is otherwise lit only where Aya stands. The last time she was called on by him it was basically a tongue lashing in how she was being sloppy in her training, how, even with keeping up with his wife and Rebecca, wasn't good enough for him and that she needs further discipline under him for a week, which was nothing short of navel exorcises that had her on her back every day barely able to keep her sanity, and since then she's kept her distance and now that he has called on her again, her mind races to what she may have fucked up on, a cautionary mentality instead of naivety like the first time. She let out a soft grumble and quickly kicks her shoes off before going towards where he had disappeared into, her footsteps silent and missing each creaky floorboard she's memorised in her time she's been here, in case this is a test wrapped in to the simplicity coaxing of "having a word" with her. It's not like she hasn't caught him, especially since he had put her through her paces himself, watching her sparring sessions with Eleanor often noticing the looks of unimpressed and begrudging acceptance that this is one of his wife's newest recruits, and it clear from the disgruntled impassiveness he is when she is even near him, that the information he has been passed on about her from others before and after, doesn't seem to live up to whatever those expectations he had silently imposed on her since she started 4 years ago and even now.
Her hand shakes as it goes to the door handle and it stops for just a beat, hovering like the fluttering wings of a moth.
Calm it Aya, its just a chat. Aya thinks as her hand stretches out before taking a hold of the cold metal and opening the door and steps inside the room. What she sees within the small area, is a computer and seat hooked up to a screen, looking much like its a pair or the sister to the animus they have on The Altaïr 2, Shaun standing beside Rebecca looking at the computer screen as if studying something but their facial features look pulled taunt as if they are not sold on whatever is about to be talked about, while Eleanor is perched on the armchair cradling her steaming hot drink as she leans forward looking at its contents, wearing the same look that mimics the other two while William stands there between the 3 in front of her, leaning against the arm rest of the chair his wife is sat in, his facial expression one of a mask and unreadable.
She silently takes the hint and sits into the other armchair opposite them both, but she doesn't relax, the atmosphere is too tense for that so she perches herself on the edge of her seat, hands in front of her, her fingertips pressing together as she looks between the 4.
"You wanted a word Mr. Miles?" She asks politely.
"yes I did. Now that I have.. a measure of your capabilities and lack there of, shall we say. I have a proposition, one that is non-negotiable. But it's important you have all the facts" William Sates bluntly as he takes a file from Shaun's outstretched hand. "Now, this isn't some normal mission, not to the extent that you, yourself have not been on."
He reaches over handing her the file as she mimics him, her own hands reaching to take the thick binder from him and rests it on her lap with a quirked brow at the name on the file.
'Basim Ibn Ishaq'
"This" William continues as he sits back on the arm rest, Eleanor looking exceptionally pale as if this is going against every fibre of her being. "is what I require you to do and the person I want you go to, to learn from and essentially in turn teach him and bring to us, so we can, in a way protect what he holds away from Abstergo, see if he is truly trustworthy. I suggest reading it Aya, so you are aware of the circumstance of who you will be dealing with."
"Oh, ok right now?" her voice breaking a little as she looks between him and the file.
"Yes, right now"
Aya drops her gaze from William and the others as she opens the file. her gaze taking in the multiple pages upon pages of information as she quickly scans it. but what catches her eyes as she goes back through it. it makes her stomach twist, the age of this guy and amount of information held in her hands about him.
"You mean to tell me...Layla is..." she can't say the word her voice croaks, she's heard of Layla from the others on The Altaïr 2, never having met the woman, but she still held her to some high regards of respect what with doing what she has been and what she has been told about, has gone through. Aya clears her throat and looks back up continuing, her voice tripping into disbelief in what she just saw and holds, as her chest begins to feel tight like a vice, her hands slowly losing all of its heat as the ability to feel the texture of the paper and her clothes, feels like nothing but light pressure as fear of being in a remote place with anyone that isn't a woman, sets in. "and this piece of Eden, that Layla was in ownership for a few years, this Staff of Hermes is now in, this dust bunnies hands?. You're expecting me to go, to go to this man in the middle of the fucking mountains? And basically, be his handler and learn from him? Alone?"
"Yes, alone, Aya. you're an impartial member of the brotherhood who hasn't worked with in any capacity Layla over the years and before she entered the Isu chamber called the Yggdrasil over in Norway. We need someone impartial to all of this, someone who has not been near The Staff of Hermes, so won't be as easily influenced by it or by him in any capacity."
"Bu-"
The look Aya gets from William, silences her instantly, its swift and silent and then gone quicker than it had flitted across his face, the minute expression, making her aware of her place in this very room, more than she was already at 3 and a half weeks ago. her eyes drop back to the file in her lap that lays open as shew chews on the side of her cheek, biting back every ounce of anger that's bubbled up instantly. before his voice cuts through the tension again that makes her close her eyes and inhale a deep breath so not to launch the file in her hand back at him.
"You leave in 3 days' time. ensure you are familiar with the files. Rebecca, hand her video files of everything we have on Basim. If her training while here is to anything to gauge by, she needs to be better prepared visually even if her ability to take in written information in is on the slower side."
Aya feels her jaw tick at the comment about her being a little slower in taking written information in... the muscles in her legs tense as she has to fight every urge to bite back at someone that's making digs at her, even if it is correct that she does struggle with reading information and retaining it without using her hands or needing to physically show said information, didn't mean he had to say it out right. She looks up and intentionally seeks out the couple by the computer as Rebecca moves around Shaun with a laptop under her arm and beckoning for Aya to follow her, Rebecca's own face a mask that guarding everything, that Aya can only think, is a fraying at the seams from having to once again loose a team member, and reluctantly Aya follows, bowing herself out more out of respect for Eleanor than William right now, until her and Rebecca are down the hall and in the spacious kitchen and lounge, laptop being placed onto the counter top as Rebecca pours herself something strong to drink while Aya makes herself something completely different that isn't alcoholic before taking the now open laptop from Rebecca before sitting at one of the chairs at the other side of the kitchen island, flicking through the video files that the older woman has gotten up for her, as she briefly fills Aya in a little more as to what had happened to Layla, how Basim had been in the grey for well over 1,133 years until Layla had somehow unintentionally freed him.
"I-honestly, Aya, I don't envy you on this... none of us trust this man. Yet William, wants to work with him to further our ways of the brotherhood somehow. We don't have much on him currently except what we have when we were directed to, where Basim is currently, in the mountainous area of Mohawk Valley, to a Vikings burial area where we and Layla had managed to collect DNA to go through the Vikings Memory called Eivor as well as Isu memories. Anything else we find before and after you leave we'll keep you posted" Rebecca explains as she comes to sit beside Aya who has one of her headphones in, listening to the fuzzy recording that had sent them to the Mohawk valley regions before watching the first memory sequence that shows him, Basim and his acolyte Hytham landing in Fornburg with Sigurd's crew.
Something shifts and twists in her very being like a gulping down scotching hot fluids that would burn the entirety of someone's throat and stomach, even though she hasn't even touched her freshly made hot lemon and honey concoction to help with her migraine that's now taken a hold, causing her to stop the video footage and throw her headphone out of her ear as if in need to distance herself from what she is seeing. her head dips as she flexes and clenches her hands a few times before clicking her digits to try bring something that feels natural her to and to get some control of the feeling that this video has caused her, on top of the frustration she still has towards William from moments ago about this mission she's been put on. Something doesn't sit with her correctly about him and if this is her first observation of him from simply watching recorded memories of what Layla had experienced the past few months before essentially being made to give her life.
"Bec's, if you could I know you and especially Eleanor would have fought William on this, and knowing El, she has already likely have tried too before tonight, right?"
Rebecca's nods at this solidifying Aya's thought that just came up from reviewing the information in front of her and how her mentor was in the room.
"So, you guys followed a recording with co-ordinates from an unknown source, handed to you by a group back in January this year?" Aya continue inquisitively as she pauses to think of her next questions. She shifts to turn to Rebecca, her jaw tense, still trying to get rid of the feeling of utter distrust of what's going on "But I'm assuming since you've been around him, you noticed it was his voice in the recording? and William wants to work alongside someone that's," she quickly flicks through the file she was handed earlier and stops at one of the parts she saw while skimming in the other room not long ago "backstabbed people he is supposed to care, work for and called friends or students? what the shit do I look like? a lamb for slaughter? Why does William think, me of all people, is a good match for this mission? when I am already and have struggled with being here alone unless Eleanor is beside me without sending myself into a hyperventilating mess? Are we forgetting what Altaïr basically did back in his time by rewriting everything that we were before to what we are now as the current brotherhood members now follow? what the hell can we learn from someone who is manipulator to the tenth degree that is from a more barbaric time line of the brotherhoods history than we currently are or have been like in centuries?"
"Aya, I know and it doesn't make sense to us right now about this sudden new insight, nor will I attempt to say I get why he has chosen you, I don't know why he has but we are thin, you know this, there isn't many of us left and most of the time we have to rely on those that go against their governments like Anonymous, to help us get to our goals, but sadly it's Williams plan and as much as Eleanor has fought him on not sending you, how Shaun and I disagree with it, especially emotionally, logically speaking, he has a point in sending you. You haven't had any interaction with any part of this, and fresh eyes are needed that aren't clouded like mine and Shaun's. we are at the end of a phone and if you have any questions in the next few days, just ask and you're not a lamb being led to slaughter. Please, for what it's worth, don't let your past dictate your actions, you will be easily mislead otherwise." Rebecca responds back, making both women fall quiet for a moment.
Aya lets out a sigh, she knows Rebecca is right, that logically speaking, this sort of makes sense, even if emotionally it does. Yet from the corner of her eye, she notices the mask of Rebecca's slip and how exhausted Rebecca actually is, the life that this and other have led, that this is certainly and never was a easy life, how much loosing another person, as Eleanor had explained to her years ago about Desmond and what had happened, and now seeing Rebecca going through similar again, the sight hitting home for Aya to see someone she has started to call a friend the past number of weeks, Aya can see how the older woman looks as if she is fraying with the seams and in that moment Aya's own tension and irritability goes as quickly as it came, and moves before thinking.
"Come here Bec's," and with that she pulls the older woman into a tight hug, not caring if Rebecca spills the drink she holds in her hand, it takes the other a moment as if startled by the sudden action from someone that isn't often tactile, before Aya feels her arms wrap around her, her head dipping onto the younger girls shoulder briefly before letting each other go neither of them saying a thing to other and going about what they need to, but with a more comfortable atmosphere between the two, easing the tension between them over the following days.
- Present day -
Another cold chill passes Aya as rain begins to fall heavier now, rumbles of thunder further ahead echoing loudly knocks her back into her senses, realising she is practically soaked through to her skin and alone on a dark road in the middle nowhere in a country she may of been born in, but has never once called home. She quickly stands further feeling how the coat she has on is completed saturated from her standing outside for as long as she has been. the wet fabric coupled with the increase of wind causes her to shiver, forcing her to get back into the shelter of the car she's borrowed. With her soaked coat hanging on the back of the front passengers seat, she turns the key once again in the ignition, start to drive again up the steady incline of the mountain road, the heavy downpour not easing up as she once again, mentally goes through everything she has managed to memories, like speech patterns, personality traits and whatever else she can recall back from the videos she watched of Eivors' memories and some of the very recent ones of William experiencing Basim's memories, it's not much but there is certainly a massive difference, between the younger man that Basim once was in the newer memories vs what he ended up being like in Eivors' that Aya has noticed between the two types of memories and how her last comment from her mentor, was that he, Basim, was made aware of her arrival that afternoon before she set had set off 6 and a half hours ago and will be expecting her by midnight.
"I wonder what side I will be greeted with." Aya mutters to herself as she indicates left and turns onto a road that drastically changes from the smooth tarmac to that of rubble and stone road opening that looks overgrown with so many bushes and autumn leaves basically covers the rocky surface. The occasional tree acting like a barrier between the car and clattering of rain drops until she sees a log cabin come into view, the warm light like a beacon to weary eyes that have been driving nearly none stop.
But she doesn't see any movement from within as she slowly comes to park up, her head cocking to the side as she squints out of her rain splattered windows.
"Perhaps he's asleep, you are over an hour late" Aya grumbles to herself as she notices the time on her phone. 1am "well better late than never."
She grabs her still soaked coat and throws it back on but the contact of the cold wet fabric on her shoulders makes her flinch and grimace for a hot second before stepping out and into the pouring rain, rucksack on her back and the small bag of shopping, leaving the rest in her car for the moment in case she needs to sleep in the car for the night.
The sound of the droplets hitting a body water right to the right side of the cabin away from the cliff edge along with the rippling of tarp over the rustling leaves covers her footsteps as she comes up towards the greyish white door, that looks recently replaced with slats of wood over the broken hatched wire mesh, she pulls her coat closer around her and hugging her waist a little with one hand as the wind goes through her damp coat as the other knocks loudly on the wooden door. It takes a few moments before Aya catches the quiet movements from inside, making her step back as the sound of locks being undone but not the latch chain.
When the door is partially opened, Warm light spills a little onto the wooden porch he realises the person on the other side is a head taller than her eye line which is directly at the man's broad chest, the quick look Aya noted as her yes jump up to the persons face, she did notice in the dark shadows that the light from behind the one inside, that the grey hoodie was barely zipped up over darkened and scarred skin.
"Erm, Hi, I was sent by William miles, the name's Aya O'donavan. You're Basim, right?" Her voice awfully unsure and high in pitch, giving it away that Aya is anything but confident in this situation she's been thrown into, especially at night. she catches the raise of his brow and the small smirk as his bearded composure shifts taking in her soaked appearance, the subtle nod as saying that what she said is correct in her obvious.
"Bravo, but you're a little late, aren't you, squeak?" The deeply tired yet melodic voice rumbles through the crack of the door.
ThePreciousPurrsian on Chapter 1 Thu 21 Aug 2025 07:58AM UTC
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Noir_sorrow_26 on Chapter 2 Sun 31 Aug 2025 10:34PM UTC
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ThePreciousPurrsian on Chapter 3 Thu 04 Sep 2025 07:57PM UTC
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ThePreciousPurrsian on Chapter 4 Sat 06 Sep 2025 10:30PM UTC
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Noir_sorrow_26 on Chapter 4 Sun 07 Sep 2025 08:51AM UTC
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