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"My father left those for me."
Mother. Father. I am sorry. I have failed you both.
I made a promise to protect our people.
I thought... I thought if I could stop the Templars,
if I could keep the revolution free from their influence,
that those I supported would do what was right.
They did,
I suppose,
do what was right. What was right for them.
As for you, Father.
I thought I might unite us,
that we would forget the past and forge a better future.
In time, I believed you could be made to see the world as I did- to understand.
But it was just a dream.
This, too- I should have known.
Were we not meant to live in peace, then? Is that it?
Are we born to argue? To fight?
So many voices- each demanding something else.
It has been hard at times, but never harder than today.
To see all I worked for perverted, discarded, forgotten.
You would say I have described the whole of history, Father.
Are you smiling, then?
Hoping I might speak the words you longed to hear?
To validate you? To say that all along you were right?
I will not.
Even now, faced as I am with the truth of your cold words, I refuse.
Because I believe things can still change.
I may never succeed. The Assassins may struggle another thousand years in vain.
But we will not stop.
Compromise.
That is what everyone has insisted upon. And so I have learnt it.
But differently than most, I think.
I realize now that it will take time, that the road ahead is long and shrouded in darkness
It is a road that will not always take me where I wish to go-
and I doubt I will live to see its end.
But I will travel down it nonetheless.
For at my side walks hope
In the face of all that insists I turn back, I carry on.
This-
this is my compromise.