Ah, and the real challenge begins now.

"You knew she lived!" A young voice screamed to the top of his lungs, as my eyes remained trapped and shut, unable to force them open. "From the moment you looked me straight in the eye and told me that she was gone... you knew my Avery had lived!" The man's voice sounded especially young, but not a child's or teenager's. It sounded like the voice of a fresh new adult in his early 20's, screaming and crying as he mourned in the name of love for the woman's name. "Avery! ... Avery?! AVERY! WHAT HAVE I DONE?!"

Suddenly, sucked out of the dark, and brought into the light once again, I snapped open my eyes with a horrified gasp for air, surging myself upward from laying on my back. I was met by the burning, yet welcoming, break of sunlight beaming down onto my vision like a spark of an explosion from a canon fire. I could see greenery again, and smell the scent of nature all around me once more as I took large inhalations through my nostrils. My chest was hammering hard, even if I were dazzled by the sunlight and bright colors of reality all around. I didn't know whether to stand or just lay back down to take in the moment that I was still alive.

But not until I heard the sound of rustling through the tall grass that was right beside me. I swallowed hard, but not because I was afraid to turn around and see who was beside me. I was trying to keep my stature. After a few more breaths, I looked over my shoulder to my left and was surprised by eons to see that it was...

That young Native boy.

"You are all right?" The dark-skinned boy asked me, sitting upon the flat boulder surface and looking down at me like it were normality again. "That is good... I kinda thought you would not wake, though." He then gestured to his forehead. "Your wound made it seem so."

That's when I realized that I had only blacked out because of the snare trap that caused my massive wound on my forehead. I lifted my hand up to the front of my temple, discovering that my wound was bandaged well. Two layers of bandage-wrappings around my head to keep a thick patch soaked in alcohol over my wound. The bandage-wrapping surrounded my cranium, snugged and not tight, but not loose, with my bangs damped over the bandages. I was surprised that the lad had even thought to bandage me. I thought he would run away again.

I looked back to him and gave a appreciative nod. "That wasn't necessary," yet I shrugged, "but thank you."

The boy shrugged back, but he understood, I could sense.

"Were those... your traps?" I asked as I tried to slowly pull myself up to a proper sitting position on my legs.

"Yes..." The young Native quietly answered. "I wanted to use those to capture small animals... or the wild dogs that keep disturbing my Village."

I chuckled to that, combing my bangs back with my fingers. "Well, you certainly caught a crazy rapscallion like me!" I joked, grinning at the boy with a toothy smile.

He cracked a smile on his face, trying to laugh along with me, but then he drifted from that notion. I wanted to ask what was wrong, but, I didn't know him that well. Even if he were a child, he obviously wasn't stupid. If he could make strong traps to capture humans, then of course he wasn't to be reckoned with. Though I was a tad curious to a variety of interesting questions I wanted to ask him.

"My name is Johanna." I introduced myself.

The boy nodded. "I am Ratonhnhaké:ton." He introduced himself.

My eyes widened as I could almost feel a dumbfound expression ready to pull down on my smile. "Oh...?" I blinked, trying to process the name. "... That... is the most fantastic, unique, and colorful name I had ever heard in years!" I jumped up suddenly to my feet, surprising the little boy. "Pronounce it once more, please!"

"Ratonhnhaké:ton." The Native lad repeated, raising an eyebrow at me with confusion. "And you," he pointed at me, "are... Johanna."

"Fascinating..." My eyes glowed in awe. "... I'm going to attempt your name in my own tongue, friend." And with that declared, I miserably tried at least six times to try pronouncing my new friend's name. "Raga-tha-gu - Raga-hagga - Oh, nevermind." I finally gave in, throwing my hands up and down. "One of these days I will coherently speak your name fluently like I speak everyone else's name like bad words."

Ratonhnhaké:ton look at me with studied eyes, that looked confused and chipper with curiosity. "You are a strange White girl..."

I pressed my lips together, dramatically lifting an eyebrow at him.

"I had only see so many White men pass through these woods hunting or marching... I had never witnessed - or even thought - that there were other kids out there..." Ratonhnhaké:ton glanced up at me with worry-wart eyes, unsure of whether he was offending me or not. I gave him an assuring smile, signalling that he wasn't hurting my feelings. "I sometimes wondered if the men would see those traps I laid out. I had not caught anything the first day I set them out... which was..." He quickly used his small and slim fingers to count the waiting days he had sat and patiently waited for a catch in his snares. "... It has been a month."

My eyes widened again. "Whoa!" I exaggerated in realistic shock. "I had no idea a child your age would have so much patience!"

He made a small press of his lips and bashfully glanced away for a moment to nod silently to me. Once again, I smiled at the lad. Ratonhnhaké:ton was a well-taught child, that knew how to maintain patience and respect well on the same balance-beam. It was obviously unlike a child to learn these sorts of emotions so fast, while they barely reached 10 years of age. Ratonhnhaké:ton had eventually told me that he was actually 7-years-old, actually. I was stunned to that answer, because I would have never guessed that he were still so young. He had manners of a well-mannered pre-teen! Amazing.

"Where is this... Village of yours, friend?" I asked, still calling him friend instead of trying to painfully pronounce his long name again.

"Oh, uh..." Ratonhnhaké:ton hesitated for a moment to think. "... I cannot tell you." He looked up to me again. "It is not good to say..."

"Ah." I said in a saddened, yet understanding, tone of voice.

It was fine, even though I was more than glad to go and meet his People. Ratonhnhaké:ton decided to stay back this time with me, not having tenancy on trying to run off in paranoiac fright once more. Even if he were a bashful boy, he was quite the good talker in conversations. I was still slightly surprised that he knew English so well, but I should have known that the Native Americans would obviously adapt to a second language quickly. For a lad, this 7-year-old boy was intelligent. Almost... too intelligent, I would remind myself...

We sat in the same spot and spoke to each other some more, fascinated by the fact that we had found each other out of our different worlds. We both had seen each others' races in a book or glimpses through the poor vision in hiding, and had never once believed there would be children involved. I didn't know how we got along so fine from the start of the meet-and-greet, but it was something I wasn't going to let go of.

"Oh, hey," I finally realized something important. "Look. I brought you something." I went for my satchel that was still luckily around my shoulder. I flipped open the bag and fished through to find the said 'something' for the Native boy. "It's something I wanted to give you, as a token of appreciation for your trap capturing that criminal from before." I pulled out a thin hard-book from my satchel. It was a light-blue book, light to carry, and was titled 'Knowing Nature'. "I don't know, I thought it would be fun for you to read this sort of thing... because it has all the names of places and is dabbled with a lot of bright colors..."

Ratonhnhaké:ton stared at the closed book for a moment, narrowing his eyes at it, until he reached out his tiny hand and took the book from me. I thought he wouldn't enjoy being given that sort of gift, not really understanding how he or his People work with strangers being gentle. But, he looked back up to me and smiled. "Thank you." He quietly obliged, making a smile tug at my features with joy. "I will read it everyday."

You know how to read, too?! I wanted to burst out, but quickly kept myself at bay from that potential offense. "You bet you will!" I said, a little too enthusiastically. But it still made Ratonhnhaké:ton grin no less.

Sunset was beginning to dawn down to dusk, and we had to bid our farewells to each other once we noticed the sky turning pink and purple, indicating nightfall. Ratonhnhaké:ton waved goodbye to me, as he stood on top of the boulder and watched me walked off back into the familiar trail that would lead me out of the woodland. I turned and waved farewell to the young Native with a smile, before we both went our separate ways.

But we promised to meet again.

Even if things with Father and I were neutral, there were still many things I needed to discuss with him about.

Particularly, I wanted to know something about that drawn woman in the journal. Avery, her name was. I had a strange nightmare of her that time when I had blacked out, and it seemed too much of a coincidence to have my mind materialize a horrifying dream on me. I didn't see anything in my dream, but the sight of a pitch black void and only hearing the screaming voices of a man desperately crying Avery's name like something awful had just happened to her. They say when you have a terrible dream and keep thinking about it, it is usually a big sign that something terrifying of coming your way in fate. Could it be one of those things?

I wanted to ask Father about it, but I was too afraid he was going to be reluctant. I didn't want to chase him off, but I had figured he shouldn't. Why would he? I pondered on asking about the mysterious woman to the others, because I didn't know whether they would know what I was gawking about, or whether they knew EXACTLY who she was and weren't admitting it. There just had to be something I could do to make Father talk...

"Johanna," Father called for me. "There's someone I want you to meet."

Father and I had been asked by an anonymous source from the outside of Fort George to speak to the hidden messenger. From what the letter had described, we are to only come as a pair – with no one else following – to the Old Tree in the heart of the forest on the Northern Road. It was something amply new for me to be exposed to, just because I hadn't thought I would be involved in one of Father's secret meetings. This was the first.

On the way there, riding along stagecoach towards the destination, I had repeatedly asked Father just who this mysterious writer was. Father wasn't so much tensed to see this person, acting quite comfortable with the fact that he is allowing me to tag along his secret meeting. But, he wouldn't tell me whom it was that we had to go see.

"It's a surprise, my pet." He smiled genuinely at me.

I narrowed my eyes at him, pouting as usual.

It was a half-hour ride to the said destination, arriving to the Northern Road together. Once the rider of the stagecoach had turned the wagon around to venture back to Boston, Father and I found it safe to go and find the certain location the writer had wanted us to meet him at. From what the letter said, he wanted to see us at the riverside of Charles River. Odd place for a meeting, but I didn't complain.

It was a long walk to the said river, but eventually Father and I had approached our destination with our feet finally walking along smoother surface and grass. My eyes shined bright when I saw how the sunlight beamed down on the active river currents, childishly running ahead to the riverside.

But when I reached the riverside, with my feet pressed deep into the softened wet shore, I was suddenly surprised by a stranger jumping out from behind a tree standing a few feet away from where I was. I made a horrified yelp and fell backwards onto my behind when I was startled by the man when he shouted, "boo!"

"Hahaha," The stranger barked out laughing at my reaction, "you silly-willy ol' girl, easily scared, just like your Father."

This stranger was a young man that looked like he was reaching his late 20's. He was American, I could tell – from how his voice sounded more foreign opposing my British accent. He was tall, likely reaching my Father's height, and looked as if he had bright green eyes as well, reflecting mine like a limpid pool of pale jades. His hair was pitch-black, and his skin was rather pale, exposing visible marks of healed scars along his forearms and forehead.

"Elroy," Father marched up to the two of us, "is this the best you could do to make a good impression?"

Elroy – the stranger – shrugged to that. "Ey, Brother, there's nothing wrong with a little scare." He grinned widely at Father, baring pearly whites. Elroy then darted his eyes back to me and brought out his arms. "Well, come hither, you rapscallion of a Kenway!"

He expected me to hug him? After scaring me nearly to death! Quickly I shot up to my feet and furiously pointed at the older man with a hard glare. "Who the deuce are you?! What're your intentions?! Father, he scared me near death!" I yapped and yapped like a small Pomeranian dog.

Both the men laughed at my poor demeanor.

"Oh, you're too funny!" Elroy waved his hand dismissively.

"Johanna," Father finally took the moment to formally introduce the stranger to me. He pat down a heavy hand on Elroy's shoulder with a sigh, "This is your Uncle."

I paused. My body almost went numb, as I deadpanned at Father. It wasn't that I didn't care. I was just so, so, so profound by the sudden words...

My eyes glanced up to Elroy, who was looking back at me with his lips formed into a line, also unsure of my reaction.

Thoughts rambled through my head instantly as seconds past and I was allowed to think hard. Was this my Uncle? Why hadn't he seen me before, when I lived in England? Was he hiding? Is he using the Uncle image to hide himself from something? Too many thoughts hammered down on my brain as I continued to mindlessly and blankly stare at Elroy with an expressionless look.

"... How?" I finally mustered up the question that first fell upon my sealed lips. "... How is he my Uncle?"

"Oh, I'm related to your Mother, dear!" Elroy answered me thoughtfully.

I blinked.

"Yep, I'm your Mother's little brother. I figured you wouldn't know much about me, ever since-" Elroy was abruptly interrupted by a sharp jab to his side by Father's elbow, cutting him off from explaining anything further about my Mother. I had already figured I had a Mother in another life, but I had no idea about her or any clue of her life or ideals. Father would never talk about her. "Well," Elroy cleared his throat, "we can still catch up together, Johanna - if your Daddy doesn't jab me in the side again." He shot a glance at Father, making me snort with a short laugh.

His full name was Elroy Mitchell, an American young man that was strangely enthusiastic and rebellious to any rule set on him. Even if he were about 28 years of age, he had the full energy of a 10-year-old and excitement for adventure like a youngster pirate out at sea in his own vessel. Elroy's energy was actually welcoming to me, seeing that I was supposedly not the only one that craved adventure out in the opened world and knowledge.

Father didn't seem to mind the attitude either. I was so glad he didn't.

At first, Father and Elroy spoke to each other in privacy, having a conversation from afar that I had to stay out of. I couldn't hear, but I watched intently on whatever they were gesturing and observing. Elroy seemed to have started to want to start yelling about something, but he stopped quickly and just calmed down to speak more fluently, while Father was looking irritated with his tone of voice. They looked like they were holding off on an argument that was bound to erupt, hadn't I been there to watch them. I just sat a good distance away, obviously still not allowed to be part of what my Father or Uncle could be planning.

Then I noticed that Elroy handed something over to Father. I couldn't tell what, but it was obviously something abundantly serious, if Father would snatch it out of Elroy's hand so quickly and hide it underneath his cloak. Elroy lastly gave Father a sassy grin, before struting off to where I was.

"My, my, my," Elroy sighed, rolling his shoulders, "your Father hadn't changed a bit since I last saw the man."

I shrugged my shoulders. "Father is always like that, though."

"Oh, I know. Sad." He rolled his eyes. "But, anyhow, enough about the old British man. Let's talk some about you, Johnna."

And we talked. As I would describe how my life was going so far, being reunited with Father just a month ago, Uncle Elroy was fascinated to know more about my everyday life. He didn't seem bored in the less of my daily life in the fort. I supposed he would be, judging by the fact that we had never once met before, and all Elroy wanted to do was get to know me and understand a little more. Even if it were hard to believe that he were my Uncle still, I oddly wanted to accept him as a family member. Perhaps over the fact that I had wholly believed that I had no family other than Father.

"Oh, so you're a Templar now?" Elroy asked me with a raise of his eyebrows.

I made a small and pevish look. "Well... I don't know if I am or not." I whispered, as if I would get in trouble for saying so. "I still want to decide whether I want to be one or not... Or just not be a part of any order..."

"What about being an Assassin?" He curiously asked me.

I immediately thought it was a ridiculous question. "Assassins wouldn't accept me. I'm an obvious child of the Templars..."

"Doesn't mean you can't convert, hon." He threw out. "I mean, I had converted eons ago, when I was your age."

My eyes widened and my mouth almost went dry. I looked at Elroy with a expression of utter shock. "... You're an... Assassin?"

"Always have been." He nodded with a smirk. "I can't speak much about these sorts of things publicly to you, though. Not while," He looked over his shoulder to glance at Father, who was miding his own business reading a journal I predicted Elroy handed over earlier, "your Father could be having the ears of a hawk. So," Suddenly, Uncle Elroy pulled me up into a tight embrace, while his hands had secretly fished out an item that he quickly put into the inner-pocket of my coat I wore, "read this." He whispered silently.

A journal, I knew it was. But of what?

It was a short meeting with Elroy, but we had to leave. Elroy lastly gave me another hug, and had given Father a bear-hug for good measures. When he left, Elroy threw on the white hood over his head, shrouding his eyes from the world, and quickly ran off into the forest area, disppearing before I even knew he had vanished into thin air.

"Father," I decided to be bold as Elroy while the stagecoach had arrived to give us a ride back to Boston. "Can I ask you about Mother?"

Father hesitated for a moment, eyes glancing another direction. "... I don't know." He tried to evade.

But I wouldn't let him off so easily. "Well... can you tell me what Mother was like, when she was alive?" I asked innocently as we climbed into the stagecoach. "Can you tell me what she was like?"

At first, Father was about to decline once more, but then, he stopped and hesitated again, making a thoughtful look of gathering his stumbling thoughts together, as if he were trying to find a good beginning for his little tale. Once we sat snugged inside the stagecoach and the rider commanded the horses to start moving, Father finally found the right way to start.

"I had never met a woman so crazy and ambitious in my entire life. But your Mother was."

More to come SOON. M'kay, pumpkin?