It was the perfect time to strike. The internal struggle was more than enough to distract Elissa from Haytham's movement until it was too late, but even after the longsword went spinning from her hand, she still had her dagger. Masking her surprise, she reacted in reflexes as well-honed as the Templar's and ducked away from him before he could strike again.

"Well-played, Kenway," Elissa drawled in grudging acknowledgement of his timing. She tossed the long dagger from her left hand to her right and used her left to pull a hunting knife from her belt. "I will not let it happen again."

He had no way of knowing, but she meant the hesitation and not his strike. It was so tiring to keep fighting with the Voice and its alluring offers even if the price to pay was so very, very steep. It had been impossible to sleep and now... she just wanted to rest. Elissa did not want to see anyone on the crew die, especially at her hand, but she couldn't fight it anymore. Not when her father kept calling her. Pup? Can you hear me, Pup? I cannot find you. Elissa?

I am here, Father.
And the visage that was facing Haytham very slowly... smiled.