[The Crusades. Hundreds of years separate them, or at least their normal lives. He would have killed for a chance at speaking with one of the old Templars when he was a young Knight.]

[...still would, truth be told. Only now he doesn't have to.]

Then we should be thankful for the rain, for without it, who knows how long it may have taken for us to find one another?

[The waitress interrupts with their drinks. Haytham largely ignores her, taking a small sip of his own drink and setting it back down on the tabletop before continuing:]

It doesn't last, by the way. The acclaim. The Order is falsely accused of heresy. One of the Grand Masters in your future will submit to being burned alive to make it appear as if we have perished.