System in Assassin's Creed

Chapter 109: Chapter 108: Bet

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---(Reuben’s POV)---

Two months had passed since Alaric left Monteriggioni.

(This means that it’s been a month after Alaric arrived in Thera)

(Four months from the start of their journey from Bristol)

(Currently January of 1713)

Life at the Villa Auditore had found a new rhythm, one that now included Reuben. The Assassins, respecting Matteo’s word and perhaps still intimidated by the display in the courtyard, never pressured him to formally join the Brotherhood.

They seemed content, and even thankful, to have his considerable strength residing within their walls, even if Alaric himself was gone.

Reuben sat in the large, comfortable grand hall, sunlight streaming through the tall windows. He took a slow sip of the fragrant tea Flavia often prepared. His other hand rested on an open book detailing Italian history, a subject he was diligently studying, partly out of interest, partly to fulfill a certain promise to a stern Maestro.

’I should have asked for a supply of actual Celestial Tea from that blonde before he left,’ Reuben thought with a familiar sigh. ’He always managed to pull things out of thin air when needed.’

He shook his head slightly, pushing the thought away, and focused back on his book.

Sensing that someone was approaching him, Reuben looked up from his book, a small smile touching his lips even before he turned. Flavia stood there, dressed in her practical Assassin attire with a playful glint in her eyes.

She chuckled softly. ”I swear, amore mio, I did not make a single sound that time. And I am confident you did not see me approach from your chair. How is it you always notice?”

”Of course,” Reuben closed his book, setting the cup down. His smile widened as he met her gaze. ”I always feel it when you are near me, Flavia.”

”Good,” Flavia’s smile deepened, and she gracefully sat beside him on the couch, leaning slightly against his shoulder and playfully looked at Reuben. ”Say... are you ready for tonig-”

Her question was cut off by the sound of the main villa door opening. Both Reuben and Flavia looked towards the entrance as Matteo Auditore strode in. He spotted them immediately, and a rare smile touched the Maestro’s lips.

”Ah, eccellente,” he declared. ”What perfect timing, you two.”

Reuben and Flavia exchanged a curious glance, raising their eyebrows.

”Come,” Matteo instructed, gesturing towards his office. ”Follow me.”

Intrigued, they got up and followed the Maestro down the corridor to his private study. As they entered, Reuben closed the heavy wooden door behind them. Matteo walked around his large desk and sat down, steepling his fingers as he regarded them both.

”I have received a request,” Matteo began, his tone shifting to business. ”A mission for you, Flavia... and,” he glanced at Reuben, ”I believe your particular skills could be of great assistance as well, Reuben, should you choose to accept.”

Flavia’s playful demeanor vanished instantly, replaced by the focused cold gaze of an Assassin awaiting orders. She nodded curtly. Reuben mirrored her nod with his serious expression.

Matteo shuffled through a pile of papers on his desk, extracting a folded letter sealed with an unfamiliar crest. He scanned it briefly before handing it across the desk to Flavia. ”It comes from our brothers and sisters in Venezia.”

Flavia took the letter, unfolding it. Reuben leaned closer, reading over her shoulder.

”The primary objective,” Matteo stated as they read, ”is the assassination of one Bartolomeo Dotti, a merchant believed to be highly placed within the Templar operations in the Serenissima Repubblica di Venezia.”

”Padre,” Flavia said after she finished reading as her brow furrowed slightly. She then holds up the letter, ”the details here are quite vague. It mentions the target, but little else. No specifics on his location, habits, or security.”

Matteo sighed, leaning back in his chair. ”Unfortunately, yes. The message was brief, likely sent under duress or with haste. It simply states the Brotherhood in Venezia requires assistance with this target.” He paused. ”However, the lack of detail might also imply they have other uses for skilled operatives once you arrive. Other tasks or investigations underway.”

Reuben spoke up. ”Like what, Maestro?”

”It depends,” Matteo replied. ”Venezia is a complex city, politically and otherwise. You will need to make contact with the local Bureau leader upon arrival; they will brief you fully. Consider the assassination the priority, but be prepared for... complications.”

”So... any questions beyond the lack of initial intelligence?”

”No, Padre. This is enough to start,” Flavia shook her head, folding the letter carefully. She turned to Reuben, a serious question in her eyes. ”Are you in, Reuben?”

Reuben met her gaze, then looked at Matteo. He thought of Alaric’s parting words... get stronger, become known, help the Assassins a little. This seemed like a perfect opportunity for all three. A small chuckle escaped him. ”Of course...”

”I wouldn’t miss it.” Then, remembering his independent status, he added, ”But I’ll take their money for my services, mind you. Need to earn my keep.”

Flavia smirked, while Matteo chuckled lightly. ”Do whatever you deem appropriate, Reuben,” the Maestro said. ”As long as the mission remains your primary focus. The Brotherhood pays its debts, though perhaps not always as generously as some...”

Flavia sighed dramatically. ”I just hope the fratellanza in Venezia won’t be stingy with their reward, tch.”

Matteo nodded. ”Prepare yourselves. Ready your horse, Flavia.” He then looked at Reuben. ”And Reuben... we have several fine horses in the stables. Take your pick from the shed; find one that suits you.”

Reuben nodded, intrigued. ”Gotcha, Maestro.”

They stood, ready to depart. As they headed out of the office, Reuben muttered thoughtfully, mostly to himself, ”A horse, aye?”

’I’ve never ridden one...’

---At the same time---

(Let’s take a slight glance at Edward James Kenway’s life during this month of the year)

The Sea Dog’s Bite rocked gently in the harbor, its sails furled and the crew scattered about, mending nets and inspecting rigging. Edward Kenway stood at the bow, his eyes scanning the horizon.

A few months earlier, Dolzell, the captain of the vessel named ”Emperor”, had steered what was once a lawful privateer into outright piracy, foreseeing the War of the Spanish Succession’s end. Kenway had objected, but when any sailor balking at the turn to piracy was thrown overboard, he found himself trapped in a new world of rogues.

It was on that same voyage that the Emperor seized the Amazon Galley... only for Edward Thatch and his band of loyal privateers to swoop in and free her. Thatch challenged the brutish Blaney to single combat against Edward, and when Blaney broke the rules, Thatch himself shot the mutineer dead.

Impressed by Kenway’s agility in the fight, Thatch offered him a place on his ship.

”You’re the one they call Kenway?”

Kenway turned to see a tall man approaching, his hair drifting slightly in the breeze. The man had a commanding presence, his eyes sharp and assessing.

”Aye, that’s me,” Kenway replied.

The man studied him for a moment before speaking again. ”Thatch. Captain of this vessel.”

”I saw how you handled Blaney,” Thatch said with a half‑smile.

Kenway met his gaze. ”I don’t take kindly to bullies.”

Thatch nodded. ”Good.” He extended a hand. ”Join my crew.”

Kenway hesitated, he didn’t know Thatch and wasn’t keen on throwing in with another stranger so soon. But compared to life aboard the Emperor, where dissent meant death and freedom was just a word, this was a far better gamble.

”I’m in,” he said, shaking Thatch’s hand firmly.

”Welcome aboard,” Thatch replied, his gaze returning to the horizon. ”Let’s see what trouble we can stir up together.”

-- (Thera, Ottoman Empire) ---

It had been a month since Alaric arrived in this hidden Isu sanctuary beneath Thera, a place he now half-jokingly referred to as his ’cavern apartment’.

Something about the ancient, humming silence and the presence of the immortal Keeper had made him decide to linger, postponing his vague plans to head east.

He and Kassandra had fallen into an unexpected, comfortable routine. They talked nearly every day, sharing stories with Alaric carefully curating his own, Kassandra slowly opening up about fragments of her impossibly long life.

They sparred often, Alaric pushing Kassandra, forcing her to adapt, while she tested his own seemingly limitless abilities. They even worked together in the small forge Kassandra maintained, Alaric using his Vulcan ability to manipulate metals in ways that astonished her, while she shared millennia of practical blacksmithing knowledge.

The vast, Isu-tech cavern became their shared space... they cooked fish caught outside the hidden entrance, ate together on the surprisingly comfortable mattress Alaric had ’acquired’, and spent hours simply conversing or enjoying the quiet companionship.

They clicked instantly, an unlikely pair separated by millennia yet connected by their unique circumstances, their shared love of combat, and a surprisingly compatible intellect.

Alaric found he could keep up with Kassandra’s sharp wits, her deep well of historical knowledge, and her pragmatic, often cynical, cleverness.

She, in turn, seemed fascinated by his strange knowledge, his impossible abilities, and his infuriatingly nonchalant attitude towards it all.

Most evenings, after a strenuous spar, they would find themselves sitting side-by-side on Alaric’s mattress, sharing food or simply talking as the Isu chamber hummed around them.

Fishing became a regular activity. One particular trip stood out, sparking something... exciting... in Alaric.

---Flashback---

Alaric woke suddenly as he glanced at the ornate gold pocket watch he kept beside the mattress... 4 AM.

’Why am I awake so early?’ he wondered briefly, but didn’t dwell on it. Sleep wasn’t strictly necessary for him anymore, just a pleasant habit.

He swung his legs off the mattress, dressed only in simple sleeping trousers, his toned upper body exposed to the cool cavern air. He began his morning routine with a series of brutally fast push-ups beside the bed.

He was halfway through his set when familiar, near-silent footsteps approached.

”Training this early, Alaric?” Kassandra’s voice, husky with sleep but carrying its usual strength, came from the entrance of the main chamber area.

Alaric glanced over his shoulder, saw her leaning against a pillar, watching him, then continued his push-ups without breaking rhythm.

”Of course,” he replied between breaths. ”There’s no excuse for weakness.”

Kassandra walked closer, stopping a few feet away, simply observing him. Alaric could feel her eyes on him, and when he finished his set and pushed himself up, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow, he saw her gaze lingering on his bare torso. He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips.

”Hey,” he teased, turning to face her fully. ”Be careful with that stare, misthios. You could fall in love with me.”

Kassandra snapped out of her momentary distraction, her eyes meeting his, a faint blush rising on her cheeks that she quickly suppressed.

”Heh,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. ”You’re thousands of years too young for me, paidí (kid).”

Alaric just chuckled.

”Anyways,” Kassandra said, changing the subject smoothly, ”I was heading out to fish for breakfast. The tide should be good. Want to come?”

Alaric looked at her, considering. A quiet morning fishing on the Aegean sounded appealing. ”Sure,” he replied with a nod. ”Let me just... freshen up.” A quick application of Suiton jutsus later, he was clean and dressed in his usual attire.

They exited the cavern through the passage Alaric had carved, and still hadn’t bothered to fix the main doors... and emerged onto the rocky shore of Nea Kameni just as the first hints of dawn painted the eastern sky.

Kassandra led him to a small, sturdy fishing boat hidden amongst the rocks. They pushed off, rowing a few hundred meters out into the deeper waters of the caldera.

Kassandra produced two simple fishing poles from under a tarp in the boat. As she handed one to Alaric, a competitive glint entered her eyes. ”How about a small wager, Alaric?”

Alaric took the pole, examining the simple hook. He raised an eyebrow. ”A bet? Let me guess... biggest fish? Or first fish?”

Kassandra smirked, baiting her hook with practiced ease. ”Let’s go with who gets the biggest fish.”

”Sure,” Alaric agreed easily. ”Sounds fair. What’s the prize?”

Kassandra cast her line, the bait plopping into the calm water. ”Hm...” she mused, tapping a finger against her chin. ”Loser has to do anything the winner says. One time. No questions asked.”

Alaric’s eyebrows shot up, but his smirk widened. ”Anything? Bold.” He chuckled. ”Heh... no problem. You’re on.” He baited his own hook and cast his line.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds the gentle lapping of water against the boat and the distant cries of seabirds.

The sun began to rise properly, as the caldera cliffs became hues of orange and pink.

Nothing really bit their baits so Kassandra just continued to watch her line patiently. Alaric appeared equally calm, leaning back against the boat’s edge.

Internally, however, Alaric grinned. He subtly activated his Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan, then he focused his chakra, extending his senses through the water below, simultaneously casting his Vulcan ability.

’Vulcan!’

His crimson eyes pulsed faintly beneath his eyelids. He felt the faint metallic signature of his hook, extending his control over it. His Foresight Pulse mapped the underwater terrain and the life within it.

Small fish darted past. Then... ’There.’ A larger shape, moving slowly, deeper down. Definitely bigger than anything else nearby.

As the large fish swam closer, drawn perhaps by the bait’s scent, Alaric mentally manipulated the metal hook, making it twitch invitingly, then maneuvering it with impossible precision directly into the fish’s path. Just as the fish opened its mouth, Alaric made the hook dart forward, lodging itself firmly in the fish’s lip.

’Gotcha.’ Alaric grinned internally, deactivating his Sharingan as he felt the strong tug on his line. He yanked the pole upwards sharply. ”Ah! Got one!”

He expertly played the line, reeling in the surprisingly large sea bass, its scales flashing in the morning sun. Kassandra watched him land the fish, her eyes widening slightly at its size. A few minutes later, she sighed as her own line remained stubbornly still.

Alaric unhooked the impressive fish and held it up with a triumphant grin. ”Looks like I win, misthios.”

Kassandra looked at the fish, then back at Alaric’s smug face, and let out a resigned sigh, though a small smile played on her lips.

”So you did. That is... quite the catch.” She reeled in her empty line. ”Alright, Kenway. I lost the bet. What is it you wish me to do? How far does ’anything’ extend?”

Alaric smirked, leaning back again. ”Heh... ’anything,’ you said?”

Kassandra nodded, resigned but meeting his gaze steadily, a hint of challenge still there. ”I keep my word. Anything you say. Once.”

Alaric tapped his chin thoughtfully, pretending to consider various outrageous demands. ”Alright then,” he said finally. ”Give me a massage when we get back to the cavern.”

”A massage? That is all?” Kassandra blinked, raising an eyebrow in genuine surprise. She sounded almost... disappointed. ”After winning such a bet? That’s it?”

Alaric mirrored her raised eyebrow. ”Oh? Were you expecting something else, you dirty misthios?” he teased, his smirk widening. ”Fine. If a simple massage is too disappointing for the legendary Eagle Bearer... you can give me a very... sensual massage instead.”

Kassandra’s eyes widened as she finally understood his teasing implication. A deep blush spread across her cheeks and neck, a rare sight. ”A-Ah, no!” she stammered quickly. ”That is... that is not what I meant at all!”

Alaric just grinned, thoroughly enjoying her flustered reaction. ”Well,” he drawled, ”all I wanted was a simple back rub, maybe work out the kinks from that two-day fight. But you thought that was a letdown. So, clearly, you desire to offer more...” He let the implication hang in the air.

Kassandra glared at him, her face still flushed, but her pride as a warrior, and her commitment to honoring a lost bet, took over. She took a deep breath, composing herself.

”Fine,” she conceded through gritted teeth, though a reluctant smile tugged at her lips despite herself. ”A massage it is. I lost the bet.”

---End of Flashback---

---Also end of Chapter 😂 ---

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