In The Eyes of a Noble: An Assassin's Creed Revolution Novel

March 27, 1882

I.

Today is my father's birthday, but instead of preparing for the celebration, I find myself packing my belongings, for today also marks my departure to continue my studies in Manila.

Suddenly, a voice spoke outside the open door of my room. 

"Senor, I'll take care of that," our servant said.
"No need, I'll handle it," I replied as I continued to pack my clothes into the trunk.
I glanced at the servant and said, "Just call for Mang Mateo to help me carry my luggage to the carriage," with a smile. The servant nodded in acknowledgment and left to fulfill my request.

Shortly after, I felt another presence near the doorframe of my room.
"Have you completed the task I assigned to you?"
I turned to find my sister leaning against the doorframe, tears streaming down her face.
"Why are you crying, Mi querida hermana?" I raised my right arm, signaling for her to come closer.

There was a brief pause before she approached me. She hugged me tightly.

"Do you really have to leave to continue your studies?" Her voice was muffled as her face buried in my clothes.
"Unfortunately, yes, it's also for my own good," I replied, my voice soft, gently patting her back. She lifted her head suddenly.
"What about me? What about Mama?" Tears flowed more freely from her eyes.
I looked at her and said, "I can't do anything about it... Papa has control over everything." "Papa can be so frustrating," my sister replied as she continued to cry. I tried to hold back my tears, as I couldn't bear to see my sister cry, especially knowing that I'm the reason behind it. "Mama wanted to give you something," my sister said, wiping her tears and sniffling.
"Where's Mama?" I asked.
"She's in her room... crying because of your departure," she continued to sniffle.

My sister briefly left the room and returned with a small box. She approached me and handed it over. "Open it on your birthday," she said, her voice strained with effort to hold back her tears. I looked at her while holding the box, amused by her attempts to stop herself from crying.
"Don't cry, Tontita," I chuckled softly.
"I can't help it, Hermano Mayor," she replied tearfully. We hugged each other tightly once again.

II.
My sister went downstairs ahead of me while Mang Mateo began lifting my belongings one by one towards the carriage. Only three pieces of luggage remained, so I decided to step out of my room to meet my father in the hallway. He stood there, imposingly, clad in his military uniform. He stood tall, his hands clasped behind his back. I approached him and met his gaze. "Papa... I had visions—visions of advanced infrastructure, white as silver," I said, holding my palms open.
"What does this mean? I didn't like what else I saw there," the turmoil in my mind evident in my voice. He didn't respond immediately, leaving a moment of silence. "I expect you to study those in Manila," he finally said in his low, commanding voice, before abruptly walking away.

I quickly descended the stairs, pushing aside the encounter with my father, as I was accustomed to his treatment.

III.
I was wearing a barong tagalog paired with simple black pants, topped with the top hat given to me in my youth.
Carrying a small bag, I felt the weight of longing as I stepped into the carriage. Taking my seat, I glanced out the window to see my mother and my sibling looking somber as they bid me farewell. Our servants were with them, but my father was conspicuously absent. I knew he wouldn't bid me farewell; he was as cold as stone towards me. "Are you ready, Senyor?" the coachman asked. I tapped the carriage roof to indicate that I was ready to depart. The carriage began to move, and so did the tears that welled up in my eyes.

Midway through the journey, I couldn't help but ponder, "What do my visions mean? Will I be able to find answers? Will I ever uncover the truth? Could the Assassins be right in their beliefs?" From the bag I held inside the carriage, I retrieved the box. Out of curiosity, I wanted to know what was inside, but I resisted the temptation and returned it to my bag. Perhaps the Assassins might be right, I whispered to myself as I leaned my head against the carriage window, gazing at the Cavite landscape before departing for Manila.