《[刺客信条3][Haytham/Connor无差] 5 March 1778（某页遗失的日记）》大**子

1、Haytham's Journal

　　We were sailing for the island. With fine weather it shall take no more than two days to our destination. In due time the traitor will be executed and war supplies be recovered.

　　Connor and I spent the whole afternoon and half the evening arguing about Aquila’s performance, meanwhile we sank every ship confronted. What a feast for the sea! Its appetite for wreckage and dead bodies seemed endless. Soon after the stormy battle, the sea stopped howling and decided to rest a bit. So did we.

　　“Just curious, where did you learn how to sail I don’t remember Ziio or Davenport with such a talent.” Connor made a stone face at once but I swore I saw something of a smirk. “It’s just natural. Same as climbing and fishing, or any other way of survival. My mother would have known how to do this if given the situation. It’s in our blood.”

　　“Quite right, your native blood fully explains those merits you’ve got, very few though.” I said.

　　Connor was about to snap back, but distracted by a coming reef and quickly steer right. He didn’t talk for a while, then suddenly threw out a question without looking at me. “Did you love my mother” He asked tentatively, as if he was prepared to abandon the ship if the answer went wrong. I did not answer right away, “Did that bother you that much It wouldn’t change the fact you despise me as always.”

　　“I want to know. I need to know.” Connor turned around and stared at me. His gaze was steady, just like Ziio. Whenever he wore that look, it pained me inside. “By the way I don’t despise you, father.”

　　I said yes, simple as that. Of course I loved her, though that feeling was beyond me long ago. Connor did not continue on the topic, which was very reassuring, instead he stood there, eyes glowing, as if trying to pin me and my words on the deck.

　　“Any other questions Or would you be so kind to take care of the ship, Captain” I broke the awkward silence. Connor turned back to the wheel as he was told.

　　It was not guilt that filled my heart but some sort of anxiety. I hardly regretted the things I’ve done or people I’ve loved. But sadly, everyone is capable of love, but few of marriage, even fewer of parenthood. I do admit that it could be very vulnerable when it comes to being a child. We were born to this world by utterly strange persons, not by our own wish or choice. In that sense freedom is nothing but an illusion from the very beginning. Did Connor ask for a father like me Was he content with what he got I couldn’t help wondering, so the question slipped, “how do you think... of...” Then those words dropped dead the moment I spoke. Connor heard them anyway, confused, “... think of what”

　　“Never mind. Forget it.” Of course I would like to know how my son thinks of me, but somehow I just didn’t feel right to demand such an answer. On the other hand, is Connor what I want for a son Not a complete savage I’d say. He is shy most of the time, but could be articulate and arrogant when provoked. I don’t know where the invisible button of insubordination is, or maybe I know too well.

　　He is not the only one stuck in confusion. I don’t really know how to deal with him either. Teasing and bossing around seemed the easiest way for me to act on. Connor got irritated quite often, but never actually turned away. Was he weighing his father with his own values and decided to spare the Templar for the moment How long would the tolerance go I am perfectly aware of the difference between us. The clock is ticktocking from the first day we met, counting down the days left. Did he not know that, or just refuse to give in

　　He refuses to compromise in almost everything, which is very Connor. There is one thing that Connor and Shay share in common: they are both deadly fierce and sometimes terribly naive. But I meant no further lecturing. Enough for the day. For now, I’d like to indulge myself with this pleasant journey, or a precious one, to be precise.

　　Connor is a fair captain, much better than me. It reminds me of my own father, who used to be a great pirate. The sea was peaceful tonight, obviously satisfied with tons of blood poured into it. That’s my interpretation, to which Connor might not agree. He would consider himself a fine sea tamer and what matters most is effort than sacrifice.

　　Aquila voyaged its way into the quiet night. Stars swang on the velvet blue sky, twisting themselves into constellations that I couldn’t recognised. Fortunetellers had spent hundreds of years studying how they affected human destiny, but none could explain how the present day came into being.

　　I pondered on those mysterious theories for a few moments, with no clear path concluded or decision made. Save for the fact that, I and Connor, might as well fight and save each other, until death do us apart.

　　END