Samuel Donnelly: Birth of Hatred

"Grandmaster, are you sure?" The voice belonged to Carl Donnelly, the best Assassin the bureau had at their disposal.
  "I am, Donnelly," answered an unfamiliar voice. An eight year old boy clung to the hand of his father, looking around the bureau. It was quite large with wall hangings dotting the walls. A banner with the assassin's symbol hung in the entrance hall, which could be seen from the top of the stairs, where they were now.

  "Your boy is of age to be trained. I've already selected his Mentor."
  "Who'd you choose?" The grandmaster smiled slowly and nodded at footsteps behind them. The boy turned with his father and stared up at an Assassin in sea blue robes, trimmed in blood.
  "Carl, young Samuel, meet Aaron Clarkson. He's our best and brightest."
  "It will be an honor to train the son of Donnelly,"

  "Now what about Frederic?" At the mention of his younger brother, Samuel looked up, his deep blue eyes sparkling.
  "When he reaches his age, we will discuss it. For now, it's time for Sam to begin his training." Carl nodded slowly and knelt so that he was looking his son in the eye.
"Are you going to leave me here?" Carl fixed his son's shirt with gentle hands.
"It's only for a little while," Carl answered softly, his dark blue robes glittering. "I'll be back every night to check up on you."
"Promise?" Carl smiled at the boy with a tender smile.
"Yes, son. I promise."

Samuel stayed with Aaron and the Grandmaster, watching Carl leave down the stairs. Carl flicked up his hood and exited the building. For the first time, Sam felt alone. "Come," said Aaron, gaining the boy's attention. "I'll show you around."

(Hey guys. I thought about writing about Samuel's past from training to what he went through. I'll be posting new sections each day, hopefully. Hope you enjoy!)

"How's he doing?"
  "Much better than the Master thought," The whispering voices made the boy stir slowly. He recognized both of them. His father and mentor. They were discussing him, he knew it. But why?
  "Thanks to you," said Carl as he looked to his son laying asleep in the bed. "and thank you so much for protecting him."
  "I'll always protect him," Aaron answered, looking down at the sleeping child. "Until my dying breath."

It was winter now, snow dotting the landscape. Luckily, the rooms each had a fireplace with a fire raging inside, so the bureau stayed pretty warm. Frederic had joined his brother at long last. "Very good!" called Aaron. Both he and Sam were in the training hall, practicing. That's all they did now was practice and each time Aaron got a contract, Sam was left behind at the bureau. As the pair stopped for the day, Aaron walked over to his things, drinking half of a bottle of water.
  "Mentor,"
  "What's on your mind, sport?" Sam stayed silent for a moment, staring at the granola bar he had opened to eat.
  "When do I start to go with you on assignments?" Aaron chuckled and ruffled Sam's hair, which had been getting cut every so often.


  "That probably won't be until you turn twelve," Aaron answered, taking a seat. -"At least that was the age I was when I joined my mentor on an assignment." Sam looked down at his boots. His birthday had already passed quite some time ago and he was already eleven.
  "Why can't you take me out now?"
  "Rules," Aaron said softly. "We stopped taking apprentices out earlier because of an accident with a nine year old girl. The Master made the age that an apprentice could be taken out to twelve to prevent any more accidents." Sam stopped asking after that.

  Sam had taken off early and now sat in the large library, reading one of his favorite books. "What're you reading, nerd?" Sam emitted a quiet moan as one of the meanest people in the bureau walked in. Thankfully, none of his buddies were there to back him up.
  "Go kill yourself, Brent,"
  "You have a lot of nerve speaking to me like that," Sam took a deep breath, something Aaron had showed him. Then he looked up at Brent with a forced smile.
  "Brent," he began slowly. "I'm not in the mood for your bullshit. So back off." After that, Sam resettled against the couch and set to read again.
  "You little shit!" As soon as Brent lunged for Sam, Aaron had appeared and dragged Brent back while holding onto his collar. Sam looked up with an am used grin on his face. The look Aaron had was one of absolute murder.
  "I ever catch you trying to harm Samuel again," snarled the Assassin. "I'll have the Master expel you." Aaron let Brent fall to the ground and watched as the older apprentice scampered off to make himself useful.
  "Thanks Mentor,"
  "Any time, sport,"

A commotion woke the preteen from his slumber in the library. Samuel rushed into the hallway and stopped short when he saw Carl carrying someone he didn't recognize into the bureau. The man his father was carrying had torn robes and an arrow pierced through his chest. "Is he even alive?" asked a sister of the Creed.
  "He's alive," came the answer. "And he needs medical attention." The injured man shifted from Carl's arms to someone else's. Sam hadn't seen his father in what felt like ages and the youth approached Carl from behind.
  "Father," Carl spun and a grin spread across his face.
  "Sammy," breathed the older assassin. Carl gently gripped his son's shoulders as though the boy was a ghost.

  "Look at you! You've gotten so big!"
  "Mentor will be taking me out on an assignment soon," Carl's heart skipped a beat and his countenance fell.
  "Are you twelve already?" Sam nodded and latched onto his father in a hug. Carl held his boy to him in an embrace that seemed like Carl would never let his son go. "Time has flown. When do you go?"
  "Tomorrow morning,"
  "Do me a favor and stay safe when you go," Samuel nodded and looked up into his father's hazel eyes.
  "I promise,"
  "That's my boy," Carl ruffled his son's hair and stepped to the door. "Oh. And Samuel....I have been selected for a most dangerous assignment in a few days. I may not come back from it. I want you and your brother to know that I love you both."
  "We love you too, dad," Carl nodded and tossed up his hood before he left the Bureau.

  "Hey sport," called the familiar voice of Sam's mentor. "You ready for tomorrow?"
  "I am!"
  "Then get some sleep! We leave bright and early." Sam nodded and dashed up the stairs to the room he shared with Frederic.
  "Why are you so happy?" asked the boy as soon as Samuel walked in.
  "Mentor and I go out tomorrow,"
  "That's cool I suppose," Frederic was only a year younger than his brother, which meant that next year, it would be Freddy's turn to go out on a mission with his Mentor.
  "Good night, Freddy,"
  "Yeah, whatever,"

At the crack of dawn, young Samuel was up and already dressed, eager to be on the way. Swiftly, the boy tracked down his Mentor, who was still asleep. "Mentor, get up!" he called excitedly, shaking the man awake by the shoulder. Aaron moaned, though upon hearing the eagerness in his apprentice's voice, rose from the bed.
  "Alright, sport. I'm up,." Aaron stretched until his body trembled and rubbed his head. "Go an wait out in the foyer for me. I won't be but a minute." And there was that slight English accent Sam had been told Aaron had. It made Sam smile as he dodged out of the room, sliding to a halt on top of the stairs, were he sat down to wait.

  Not even a minute had passed when his Mentor appeared in the hall. "Let's go see what the Master has for us today," Sam smiled wide and chuckled. His first time on an actual assignment. Then everything seemed to crumble as the doors banged open and a messenger rushed in, his clothes stinking of smoke from a fire.
  "Master!" he shouted, running straight passed Aaron and the boy. Aaron quickly moved to follow and Sam did the same, stopping beside his Mentor in the doorway to the Master's study. "Master, I bring terrible news!" The messager could hardly breathe. It was a sign he had run from a long distance to get here.
  "Don't just stand there like a daft," said the Master, fear shining in his eyes. The messenger managed to regain his breath and composition. "Speak!"
  "I went to the Donnelly residence as requested sir," Sam felt fear instantly cook inside his chest until his stomach began to hurt.

  Something was wrong. "I found both Trueshot and his wife shot and their house on fire." Samuel's head began to spin wildly. He clutched fast onto Aaron for support, afraid he would fall over. Aaron's hand gently rested on Sam's back for support and comfort. The room was silent for a moment, except for the crackling of the fire.
  "Send someone to investigate their murder,"
  "Of course, Master," the messenger seemed to give Sam an apologetic look as he passed. Sam couldn't say anything. His voice felt like it was broken in two and it didn't help that his throat had clenched.
  "Deep breaths, child," said Aaron softly, feeling Sam about to start crying. Sam took as deep of a breath as his body would allow as he closed his eyes and tried to Calm his heart.
  "With Trueshot dead, dark times are ahead,"
  "Master, we require an assignment," Aaron spoke softly, gently guiding Sam into the room.

  The Master slid a parchment forward. "A new threat rises from the Templars," he said, sounding as though he was trying to distract himself. "Kill the youth before he can grow up to become a skilled Templar." Aaron nodded after reading over the parchment and tucked it into his tunic.
  "Aye, Master. Come, Sport." Samuel followed his Mentor from the room, unable to think of anything else except for his father's murder.
  "Why was father killed? He'd done nothing."
  "Templars care not. Your father was a threat to them and so they put a stop to it before he could damage them further. Now come on. Up you get." Samuel took a running start and flung himself up the nearest building, only stopping when he reached the top. Aaron soon joined him and let out a breath. Slowly, Aaron beckoned his apprentice to follow and soon the pair were racing over the rooftops, leaping from one to the next until they came to a stop in a large square. People milled about, talking and laughing. Aaron gently nudged his apprentice while drawing his bow. Sam followed his mentor's finger and spotted the Templar they needed to kill. It was a youth around his age, if only two years older. He wasn't doing any harm, Sam thought, frowning. He had been about to say something, but Aaron told him to be quiet and strung an arrow.

  Samuel fidgetted for a few moments before he finally decided to move. And move he did. Sam ran from Aaron's side, leaping down the building until he hit the ground. As soon as his feet touched ground, the boy took off running and placed himself between his Mentor and the other boy. Samuel saw his Mentor jerk his bow just as the arrow was let loose. It flew toward both boys and struck Sam first, leaving a bloody mark across his left shoulder. Sam yelped and turned just in time to see the arrow strike the youth and bury deep inside a barrel. The Templar looked up once, revealing a bloodied lip where the arrow tore flesh before the youth took off running. "Samuel!" Aaron's voice made the young assassin turn. "You're alright, aren't you?" Sam managed a nod, even though his hand was gripping his shoulder, which had started to bleed.
  "Other than my shoulder, I'm fine."
  "Come on. Let's get you back and looked after."Sam allowed Aaron to guide him back down the streets. The boy cast one look over his shoulder at where the Templar had stood. Maybe they would meet again one day. But for now, Sam had to get his wound tended to.

Turns out Sam would be fine, but he would carry the scar forever. Which was fine with him. Once more, his thoughts turned to the assassination of his father, Carl Donnelly. No longer would the familiar blue robes flash into view as the man entered the bureau. Tears stung Sam's eyes, which made them close immediately and he took a deep breath to calm himself. A door creaked and made the young assassin look up. Aaron was coming from the Master's room, his face flushed red. Upon seeing his apprentice, a hot look flashed in his eyes. "You are in a lot of trouble, young man," said Aaron with a snarl. He was pissed, Sam could see that. "Come on."
  "What're we doing?"
  "You are going to climb for the rest of the day," Sam seemed bewildered.
  "What?!"
  "Either that or get flogged," Aaron gave a shrug. "Your choice, sport." There was absolutely no way he was going to climb buildings for the rest of the day. Then again, he didn't want to get beat either. He groaned softly in indecision. He couldn't decide! Finally, after what seemed like forever, Samuel bolted for the nearest building and began to climb.

  Towards the end of the day, Sam jumped down into a roll and sat there on his knee, an arm wrapped over the other one as sweat poured from his forehead and his muscles ached. "I hope you've learned your lesson, sport," said Aaron, who had been watching from the cool of the shade.
  "Aye," he panted. "Never disobey an order again." Aaron nodded with a grin.
  "Good lad. Now come inside and wash up. You get the rest of the weekend off." Samuel nodded and followed Aaron inside. As the youth went into the room he shared with his brother, he noticed Freddy wasn't in. He must have been out training with his mentor. Aaron couldn't care less right at that moment. He showered and collapsed onto his bed, hardly bothering to cover himself up with the blankets.

  "Happy birthday, sport!" Aaron called as he barged into the room. Frederic, luckily, had left early, leaving Samuel as the only one there. Sam moaned and pulled the blankets over his head. He just wanted to sleep.
  "Ten more minutes!" he called in a desperate attempt to get his mentor to leave. It didn't work.
  "Oh no," Aaron said, pulling the comforter off the bed. Sam had wedged his head under his pillow, not giving a single shit about the blanket. "You're sixteen now. And the Master has given us an assignment." Sam stirred only slightly, resting his head back on the pillow.
  "Where are we going?"
  "Havana," answered Aaron, tossing Sam's robes onto the bed the instant Sam sat up. "The Master wants us to flush out a Templar there." Sam froze as he got dressed, staring at Aaron as though he'd lost his mind.
  "Havana's far from here though," he said, doing up the straps on his hidden blade as soon as his robes were on. "And it will be swarming with Templars." Aaron nodded and a delighted look on his face.
  "That's the beauty of it though," he declared as he led his apprentice out of the bureau. The pair made their way through the city toward the dock, where a beautiful ship called The Torpedo was docked.

  "Captain's come aboard!" Sam looked impressed and confused at the same time.
  "You have your own ship?" Aaron chuckled as he took the helm, his apprentice beside him.
  "One thing you don't know about me, sport,"said the Assassin. "Is that I was a pirate before I joined the Brotherhood. An assassin stopped my execution by breaking me out of jail in England. I knew he wasn't from there, as I had never seen him before. He sails with me to here, the Florida Keys, where I joined his Cause." Sam was indeed awestruck.
  "Where to, Captain?"
  "Havana, my good fellow." And away they went as soon as the sails were let down and the anchor raised. It was his first time on the ocean and that breeze was something he could get used to. He took a deep breath and exhaled greatly. Aaron smiled as he steered the ship, glad hi apprentice enjoyed the open air. "You could have a ship of your own you know,"
  "Could I?" Aaron nodded and handed the wheel to his Quartermaster before he joined his apprentice at the railing.
  "If you truly want to have this freedom, a ship could be yours." Sam smiled. It would be nice to have his own ship and to sail wherever the wind took him. But for now, he shook his head.
  "I just might take you up on that offer,"
  "When you do, there's a good ship all ready for you," Sam nodded his thanks and remained silent for the rest of the voyage, excitement bubbling in his chest alongside fear. Somehow, he felt as though something would go wrong.

Almost the instant they got to the town, Templars attacked and surrounded them. "We heard that the Donnelly child was coming here,"
"Come with us peacefully, or die," Sam looked over at his mentor, who looked ready to fight. But then Aaron shook his head at his apprentice and straightened. At once, the Templars grabbed them both, blinded them by blindfold and guided them to the manor.
"Torres, they're here," the assassins were unblinded and held so neither of them could escape. Torres, a tall and dark man stood before them. His eyes travelled immediately to Sam and made a ruling.
"The boy dies in a few days,"
"No!" Aaron shouted as they were carted away and thrown into a vaccant room. Aaron paced angrily across the floor as soon as the door slammed shut and Sam just sat on the bed, shaking in fear.

"Am I going to die, Mentor?"
"I won't let them!" Aaron stated loudly, turning to look at his apprentice. "I promised Carl I'd look after and protect you. I've done a hell of a job up to now, and I intend on continuing to do so." Silence ruled the two now. Aaron drew a hand through his hair while another clasped a pendant at his neck, a pendant Sam hadn't been aware of until now, though he said nothing. With a sigh, Aaron plopped down on the sofa. "Get some rest, sport."

The next few days were terrible. Sam couldn't stomach the food, try as he might. Then the morning came that he was supposed to die and Torres came into the room. "Let's go brat,"
"No," Torres looked to Aaron immediately and raised an eyebrow. Aaron swallowed hard and stepped forward. "Kill me instead." Torres's face lit up and a twisted grin spread across his face.
"Very well Assassin," said the Templar. "You will die tomorrow morning. And since you were a pirate, you will be hung like one." With that, Torres turned and left. Aaron made his way to his apprentice and took off his necklace.
"Mentor, you can't--!"
"I can," Aaron soothed and slipped his pendant around Sam's neck. "Take my pendant. When you get out of here, go back to my ship and tell my Quartermaster that The Torpedo belongs to him now. As for your ship, he'll take you to her." Sam could only nod, not believing what had just happened.

Sam couldn't sleep that might and the following morning, they were collected and led out into the courtyard, where the gallows was. While Sam was held near the front, Aaron was led up and placed with the noose. Torres stood in front of the Assassin and spoke as the noose was fashioned around his neck. "Aaron Lee Clarkson," the Templar called. "You are hereby charged with these acts: treason against the government, attempted murder and conspiracy against the King. What are your last words?" Sam became anxious and enraged all at once. Those charges weren't true! Aaron would never do such things! Then a hand forced back his head to watch after he had hung it. Aaron lifted his head high, defiance in his eyes.
"Remember," he called out, eyes falling on Samuel. "That I regret nothing that I have ever done. Nothing is true, everything is permitted!" Torres gave the signal and the lever was pulled. The platform dropped instantly and Aaron fell through. The noose tightened around his neck and strangled him. It would have been easier if his neck would have broke as soon as the noose tensed, but Sam had to watch his Mentor loose all air and suffocate. As soon as Aaron stopped moving, Sam struggled and screamed, tears in his eyes.
"Mentor!!!! I'll fucking kill you bastards!!!"

"Justice!!" That pig!! No justice had been done! Only stone cold murder, and they dared to call it justice. Sam was released at the docks with a warning: never return to Havana. That was fine by him. The young assassin never wanted to come back to this God-forsaken place and boarded his mentor's ship. "Where's the captain?" asked Riley. Sam shook his head, breathing deep to calm himself, though tears were streaking his face.
"The ship's yours, Riley," he said quietly, going to the railing. "Mentor's dead. Those bastards killed him!" Something then occurred to him. "Aaron said there was a ship ready for me."
"Aye. A fine vessel it is. Sails up, lads! We're going to the Cave!" As the ship pulled out of port, Sam's hand clamped around his mentor's necklace that hung at his neck. He would never forgive those Templar bastards. He had made up his mind about that. Any that he met would die.

Nightfall fell upon them as a large cave came into view. "Steady her, lads!" Slowly, the ship slowed until it was coasting through the water and into the cave. Luckily it was high tide this month, so ships could easily come and go. Sam looked up and around at the surroundings. The cave was huge with barrels and boxes scattered everywhere. Riley tapped the boy's shoulder and gained his attention. Riley pointed to the ship next to them. "There she is, boy," he said proudly. "There's never been a finer vessel in all the seven seas."
  "Does she have a name yet?" Sam asked, looking up at the new captain of The Torpedo.
  "Aaron never did give her a name," Sam smiled as he returned his gaze to his ship.
  "Then I name her the Soul Wave," he said gently. "Who knows. The name might stick one day." Riley chuckled and guided the boy onboard his new ship.

  "You'll need a crew," Sam nodded, and watched as he shouted to a few men, who quickly scurried onboard the newly named Soul Wave. "Donnelly is your new captain, lads. Do whatever he says." As an answer, the handful of men shouted "Aye, sir," before they began to mill about the ship, preparing her for takeoff.
  "Thank you, Riley,"
  "Aye. Aaron would have wanted it like this. You just take care." Riley began to chuckle in amusement. "You'll make as fine a captain as Aaron had, boy." Sam nodded slowly and watched the newest Captain left the ship. The ramp was pulled in and so was the anchor. Sam took a deep breath and gripped the helm.
  "Where to, Captain?" Sam hesitated. He really didn't want to go back to the Keys, to his bureau. But then again, he didn't want to leave his brother all alone.
  "To the Florida Keys lads," he called. Soon, the sails were set and they were off, saying goodbye to the cave and the men of The Torpedo.

  Upon daybreak, the ship made port and Sam left the helm. "Take good care of her lads," he said as he left. Home again, with the familiar smells around him. He had missed the comforts of home. Soon, Sam began to run, and then he climbed a building to make better time returning to the bureau. The sun hadn't even returned to the sky when he reached the bureau. The assassins seemed bewildered to see Sam again after so many days had passed.
  "Sammy! Where were you?" Oh, so all of a sudden his little brother was worried?
  "Havana, Freddy,"
  "Why is Clarkson not with you, Donnelly?" Sam hadn't heard the Master approach. Probably why they called him that. Sam bowed his head slowly and took a deep breath, his hand on his mentor's necklace.
  "He was hung,"he answered softly, looking up into the eyes of the Master. "And under false accusations!" Instantly, upon his voice rising, Sam took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. The Master nodded in understanding. Aaron had been hung by Templars. They were the only ones who gave false accusations to anyone.
  "Aaron will be missed," called the Master. "Now, Sam. You're no longer an apprentice. We welcome you into the fold as a full Assassin of the Creed." Sam nodded. It was quite an honor, though his brother didn't seem to happy at that moment. Sam shrugged it off. Freddy probably just had a bad day in training. No one seemed to notice the murderous look that had formed in Frederic's eyes.

Nigh upon Donnelly's seventeenth birthday, he had been chosen for a group mission and Frederic was one of the Assassins he had to work with. The four leapt from building to building, each one taking a different path to avoid looking suspicious. Sam stopped and knelt at the edge of the building near the market, looking down into the crowds, scanning for their target. He found the man they needed to kill. It was an older man, around his thirties with graying hair. Sam informed the others quickly of their target and prepared himself to attack.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Sam saw one of his brothers arch like he had been stabbed and then tumble from the roof into the streets. Confusion gripped his heart and quickly, Sam leapt down and gently raised his brother up off the ground. "What happened to you?"
  "Betrayal...." that was all the hooded man could say before he slipped away from Sam and the world. Sam swallowed hard and gently closed the brother's eyes.
  "Your war is over. Thank you for your sacrifice my friend. Rest in peace."
  "Oh please," that voice....Sam looked up after lowering the Dead assassin to the ground. Frederic stood there with a pistol in his hand and a murderous look on his face. "You ask me, he deserved to die."
  "Freddy? You're the Betrayer?" Hatred boiled upand he stood to his feet. Frederic chuckled as the older man that was their target joined the young man.
  "Since my first solo mission after you returned," answered Sam's little brother. Freddy lifted a fist and residing on his finger was a ring with the Templar symbol.

  "Why? What could those bastards possibly offer you?"
  "Power!" shouted Freddy, his eyes gaining a murderous look to them again. "Sure I'm going to have to fight my way up, but it's doable. And besides, I never liked the Assassin way. Its corrupt."
  "It's true!"
  "Corruption readies in its middle!!" The brothers stared at one another before the man decided they had overstayed their welcome. "Goodbye brother. I guess I'll see you again sometime in the future."
"I'll see to it that that never happens," Sam watched the Templars leave and turned back to the Dead Assassin, gently,picking his body up. He would take this man back to the bureau for a proper burial.

"What happened?"
  "We were betrayed," Samuel answered softly, staring down at the dead man's robes. "By Frederic. He's gone and deserted for the Temlars." The Master rumbled in sadness, a hand rubbing his chin.
  "Most unsettling," said he, looking over their dead brother. "Come. Let's put our Brother to rest." Samuel quietly followed the Master outside and around back, into a large open plot dotted with a few headstones, two of which belonged to the Donnellys. Now a new grave was dug for this man Sam carried.

  As soon as the grave was dug, Samuel slowly lowered the brother into it, bowing his head and saying a quiet line once again, ending in rest in peace be core he stood back. The Master turned to the others and lifted his head high. "This is not the first time one of ours deserted and turned Rogue," He said to all to hear. "We must not mourn the death of our fallen brother. Instead, we must fight on to end this war. Nothing is true."
  "Everything is permitted," again, Sam felt the rise of hatred rising in his chest. He clenched a hand into a fist and stayed put while the others left for the bureau, to continue missions. He turned and looked down at his parents graves. "This is my vow, father. I promise to bring Honor back to my family name. And to destroy the Templars once and for all!" He knew that probably meant leaving the Keys forever. That was fine by him. He had started believing not everyone in this Sanctuary was a true Assassin. With that vow, he swept away from the grave, entering the bureau. Sam went to his room and began to pack. Once he had everything he needed, he left.

  "Leaving so soon?" Sam stopped on the way up to his ship and looked back. The youth stayed silent for moment before he spoke, apparent hate for the Templars rising in his voice.
  "How many Templars have you allowed into the bureau?" No answer. Sam lifted his head and slowly shook it, disappointed. "As I thought. Too many. I don't care if they're supposed to be our brothers now. They were born into the Templar Order. I cannot stay in a bureau overrun by Templars. I'm sorry Master."
  "Don't be," cam the unexpected answer. "I don't blame you for leaving. The Templars took everything from you. But know that you're always welcome here, should you decide to come back, or if your travels bring you back here." Sam nodded his thanks and boarded,his ship.
  "Lower the sails, hoist the anchor!"
  "Where to, Captain?" Sam smiled and took a deep breath.
  "Anywhere the wind takes us," This would be a good thing, he thought. At least he'd get to see the world.[/color]