“History's not always fair. It’s too easily rewritten. People get their hands on it and make it fit whatever agenda they have. You wouldn't believe how much gets censored in the history books, and then kids grow up not knowing the full truth. Sure, you can always go back, look at the primary sources and try to learn from someone who was actually there. But not many people do."
“I'm rambling, aren't I? What I mean to say is history is not told the way you know it. At least, not to my knowledge. I'm not exactly an expert on American History, but the name Charles Lee doesn't mean much to me."
Though it'd certainly be worth looking into, if what he says is true.
It came across as more of a statement than a question, as looking back on it she supposed that it should have been obvious. His appearance, his mannerisms, his anecdote of traversing through the forest as if it were his home: all pointed to a conclusion different than the one she had supplied. His words simply solidified the inkling that she'd suppressed, and a moment passed before she realized she'd been staring at him as if in a trance.
“Sorry. I guess it’s just hitting me now how different the times that we're from are.”
Truthful yet vague, and she found herself silently pleading that he wouldn't press her further on the subject. Teenage boys have enough to worry about without carrying the extra weight of the genocide of their people on their shoulders.
"Are you sure about that? I’ll bet we can find a way for you to sail here. There's a beach, isn’t there? All we have to do is hijack a boat, and we're golden. Get some practice here, and by the time you return home Mr. Falkner should let you take on something more exciting than a simple supplies run. Ever considered pirating? Living a life at sea?”
The more she spoke, the more he wanted to ask her of the future. What did she know exactly? What was censored? What of him... what of his story? Was it preserved or changed or- forgotten entirely... But then there was the spirit from his vision, didn’t that mean-
It was pointless to keep wondering about all this. That’s what he kept telling himself, but all the same his thoughts remained. After all, some of the information might be useful. The fact that she didn’t know of Charles Lee had to mean something, didn’t it? It could be that he died soon enough that he couldn’t make any more of an impact on the world, and that death might have been at his hands. Or it could be that she simply didn’t know that much about American history. He preferred thinking about the former, a guarantee of his future success.
Knowing that conversation couldn’t progress any further, Connor simply nodded in agreement. Their times were worlds apart, possibly literally. He wanted to know more, so much more, but not now. Later, he told himself.
“A ship,” he corrected lightly. “We could hijack a ship, but- it would not be the Aquila. But I... I would like that. To sail again.”
At the mention of piracy, he paused, thinking back to stories Achilles had told him.
“My grandfather was a pirate. I enjoy sailing, but I have work to do both on sea and on land. But ah, an old sailor told me of a treasure hidden by Captain Kidd... when I had the time, I was planning on searching for it.”
