Assassin's Creed: Forsaken by Oliver Bowden

Description : Assassin's Creed: Forsaken
I never knew him. Not really. I thought I had, but it wasn’t until I read his journal that I realized I hadn’t really known him at all. And it’s too late now. Too late to tell him I misjudged him. Too late to tell him I’m sorry.

EXTRACTS FROM THE JOURNAL OF HAYTHAM E. KENWAY

PART I

1735

6 DECEMBER 1735

i

Two days ago I should have been celebrating my tenth birthday at my home in Queen Anne’s Square. Instead, my birthday has gone unremarked; there are no celebrations, only funerals, and our burnt-out house is like a blackened, rotted tooth among the tall, white brick mansions of Queen Anne’s Square.

For the time being, we’re staying in one of Father’s properties in Bloomsbury. It’s a nice house, and though the family is devastated, and our lives torn apart, there is that to be thankful for at least. Here we’ll stay, shocked, in limbo—like troubled ghosts—until our future is decided.

The blaze ate my journals so beginning this feels like starting anew. That being the case, I should probably begin with my name, which is Haytham, an Arabic name, for an English boy whose home is London, and who from birth until two days ago lived an idyllic life sheltered from the worst of the filth that exists elsewhere in the city. From Queen Anne’s Square we could see the fog and smoke that hung over the river, and like everybody else we were bothered by the stink, which I can only describe as “wet horse,” but we didn’t have to tread through the rivers of stinking waste from tanneries, butchers’ shops and the backsides...
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