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AC 1- The Hidden Truths Ch.2
Just when she thought she was free from Altair's grasp, when she came out from the water on the other side of the iron gate, another man waiting for her on the other side, surrounded by a group of guards from the city and they were armed and ready to attack.
"Well now, if it isn't Fiorenza de Forsythe. How glad I am that you so narrowly escaped Altair."
Fiorenza tried to keep afloat as she simply replied, "So he is Altair."
"Correct." The man answered. "And just in case you didn't notice, you have nowhere to go now. You will be coming with me " grinning brightly " to Masyaf." She gasped a she realized that the man was wearing red robes with the creed's clan symbol on the back of it.
"And you must be Caleb." She stated with much distain.
"Ah, so you do know of who I am. Jedidiah must have informed you well."
She scoffed back, "Yes, in fact he did." She finally climbed out of the water as Caleb's guards were quick to grab hold of her
AC 1- The Hidden Truths Ch.1
Welcome to my Assassin's Creed Fanfiction Series
As a warning to readers, unless you have played the games, many things mentioned in my fanfics will confuse you and also act as MAJOR spoilers. So you've been warned.
The Problem with Most Fanfictions Involving OC's
--Best way to describe me is a re-teller of existing stories. I have my own original characters *le gasp* oh yes...my fanfictions involve OC's (original characters) and yes I've heard all the stories of how quite a few people dislike OC's and how they overtake the story or they aren't well developed or both of the above + the canon characters being too OOC (out of character), but rest assured I do none of that. As writers we have the priviledge and freedom of artist expression, but I don't use that as an excuse to take existing material that someone else created, and make it however I want.
That is a no no in my book. It is drastically important to me to keep canon characters IN character as best as possible on
ViolinI remember the day
you told me violins
were strung with cat gut
and that is why
you hated music
(who says that to a child?)
I followed you
all that summer.
I watched you
grow away from mother -
your whiskey held better conversations
and all she did was cry.
We'd sit cross-legged on the porch
and count the horseflies
settling on our lunch.
You would drown tadpoles
in a bucket
surprised they could not swim
and I would dream
of cherry popsicles.
And when night would gather
on the sidewalk
I'd hold my breath
until a star appeared.
Don't bother making wishes
you'd tell me -
stars are dead weight in heaven
and God has cloth ears.
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