AN: Sorry for the long absence guys. This is just a filler chapter to keep you hopefully satisfied while I attempt to churn out a longer chapter.

Connor had been living with Haytham for a few months when his training officially began. He'd been staying mostly in private quarters next to his father's but eventually it was time for him to move into the small barracks with the other recruits, all of whom were older than him by at least two years. His first night there was soured by angry looks and derogatory names. Connor had managed to win their respect with a swift, well aimed punch to the unfortunate face of the nearest boy, sending him reeling backwards onto a bed.

The next day, Connor's training officially began. He followed the rest of the recruits to get breakfast, which consisted of a small ration of meat, bread, and tea. The tea didn't sit well in Connor's stomach and he discreetly dumped it out at the first chance he got, leaving him thirsty and annoyed. Like cattle, they were shuffled outside and separated according to height and build.

Connor ended up paired with the same boy who had been on the receiving end of his fist the night before; he had earned a black eye from the ordeal. The young man regarded him a bit nervously, but Connor paid him no mind. He listened intently to the instructor, eager to learn.

Their drills for the day consisted of jogging around the headquarters all morning, followed by hand-to-hand combat. The running was easy for Connor; all his years of hopping from limb to limb with his friends had certainly helped tone his body and give him an amazing sense of stamina. After the first five laps, however, he was falling behind the other recruits. They'd been training for much longer than him, and they were older. When he thought he could take no more, the instructor signaled a stop and allowed them a five minute break.

Connor found a rock jutting from the ground and sat down on it thankfully, wiping his forehead. Summer was just coming to a close, but it made the heat no less unbearable. Head down, he only noticed someone approaching when their feet were practically on his. He quickly jerked his head up, locking eyes with his partner. His gaze slid down to the hand outstretched to him.

"Name's John," the boy introduced himself with a grin. "I figure we should formerly meet…especially since we'll probably be working together quite often."

Connor regarded the hand with the caution one would use when dealing with a poisonous snake. He peered up at John's face again before grabbing hold of the hand. "Connor," he replied. "I apologize for punching you. Unless you were making fun of me, too. Then I'm not sorry at all."

John grinned and sat next to Connor. "In all honesty, I was. But I was mostly just going along with the other boys. Sorry about that."

Connor shook his head slightly. "It's alright. I've been here in Boston for a few months now and I've heard every name you could possibly call me."

"Recruits!" The loud voice of their instructor cut through the thick summer air, startling everyone to attention. "Fall into ranks! The Grand Master has arrived to oversee the remainder of your drills."

John and a number of other young men looked eager to prove themselves, but Connor only felt dread. He knew nothing and was going to be an embarrassment for his father. He took a deep breath and stood in his place in the line, standing tall and straight. Despite his age, he was one of the tallest in his class.

Haytham walked slowly, purposefully, with his hands clasped behind his back. The only sound in the courtyard was the soft thudding of his foot falls and the quiet clink of his weapons. He walked with the skill of an experienced hunter; to be able to sneak up on someone with an array of weapons hanging at your waist was truly a talent. Stopping in front of eldest boy, Richard, Haytham smiled. His smiles were unreliable, full of hidden meaning. Richard was nineteen, born into the order and extremely skilled, yet he still looked uneasy.

"What's your name, boy?" He asked conversationally.

"Richard, Master Kenway." He swallowed visibly.

Haytham chuckled. "Well, Richard. Are you ready to prove yourself worthy of joining the ranks of this order?"

The young man visibly tensed his shoulders. "Yes, sir."

Haytham pressed the handle of a sword into his hand. "Show me how you fight."

All the other recruits quickly backed away, leaving room for the fight. Richard stared at the edge of the blade for a moment before moving himself into position. Haytham unfastened his cape and hung it on a low branch with his hat, taking his own position across from the terrified recruit. "Come at me, boy."

Connor held his breath, watching as Richard made his first move. It wasn't intended to hit Haytham; it was a ploy to get him to move. And move he did; Haytham blocked the blade and forced it away, side stepping. Richard came for another attack but the skilled Templar simply parried again.

The test continued on for a few tense minutes, when Richard finally went in for a kick to break Haytham's defense. He wasn't counting on his foot being caught and being flipped onto the ground, facedown. Haytham touched the tip of his blade to the boy's neck, grinning. "I must say, boy, that was an admirable fight. The best recruit we've seen in a while. Welcome aboard." He grasped Richard's hand and hoisted him to his feet.

Richard looked dazed and confused, but grinned as he was swarmed by the other recruits, all buzzing with excitement.

Haytham smiled. "The ceremony will take place in a few days' time." He turned to leave, but not before clapping a hand on Connor's shoulder. "Pay attention, son, and work hard. One day, hopefully soon, you will be facing me like that."

That brought a grin to the boy's face. "I can hardly wait."

Haytham chuckled and ruffled his hair before collecting his clothing and leaving. He disappeared inside once again and Connor decided to join the other recruits in congratulating Richard, who was still in a state of shock.