Ballad of Altair
Chapter One: Ibn'La-Ahad
I don't own Assassin's Creed
The sun shined high over the ancient Syrian city of Damascus. The city was a beautiful sight to behold, it was buzzing with the arts of the area, merchants set up shop in the shade of the small pathways that lined the district and shoppers buzzed about. The Muslim majority were gathering around the heralds who preached of news worldwide. They spoke from what was going on at home to what the Infidel Kings in the west were up to.
But in a small building with beige walls and deep sand colored trim, were two boys. The boys had never gotten along very well and had always picked fights with the other. Surrounding the two boys was a crowd of other children, the boys cheering them on, while the girls looked on in distaste.
The one boy of dark chocolate skin with long black hair punched the other, a lightly tanned child with short cropped jet black hair, in the jaw. "Take that Altair!" the boy shouted.
Altair regained his composure and lunged at the other child, slamming his fist into his stomach. He spun and back handed the boy and knocked him to the ground. He quickly leapt on top of him and began pummeling away at the boys face.
Soon the crowd of children went quiet as the boy underneath Altair ceased moving. "That'll teach you to steal from me." he said and stood and glared at all the others who were still staring in shock at the bleeding body.
His nose was crooked and his lip was split in multiple places. He was bleeding from a large cut in his forehead and had multiple lacerations around the eyes.
But the most notable feature was that he wasn't breathing.
Altair soon noticed this and eyes widened slightly and he backed away slowly before he took off in a full sprint and ran away from the scene of the crime.
He ran for his life, more out of confusion than fear. This was the boy who had beaten up foster parents for getting on his bad side, who stole in front of guards regularly, who climbed up the madras for fun! He was the kid who took nothing from anyone, a kid with a fire burning in his heart, and a strength that no one else his age had. He was Altair Ibn-La'Ahad. Altair son of none.
Altair was dropped off at the Graceful Muhammad Orphanage in Damascus when he was an infant. No one claimed the boy and it was the responsibility of the head mistress to take him in. Ever since he was a child he'd had a knack for getting into fights. He fought a five year old for some sweets when he was only three.
He stole his first coin from a visiting man trying to adopt a child there. He even went as far to steal food from the market vendors on the street. All in all, he was a budding delinquent and thief.
But this was pushing it, for Altair did not know how to get out of this one. Murder? That was worse than stealing food or small coins from a passerby.
As the shock wore off, Altair grabbed some cloth from the stands and wrapped it around his face and head, leaving only a small slot for his eyes. He followed close behind a group of people and blended into the crowd as they passed through the gates leading out of Damascus. 'Where do I go now?' he thought as he walked off into the barren road leading to god knows where.
XxX
Al Mualim was riding his horse around the country side of his beloved Syria. He enjoyed the scene of the sparkling sand and the tall rock faces that dotted the landscape. It truly was a gift from God to live here. The only place that came close to the beauty of Syria was the sight of the Holy City, in Al Mualim's opinion. His horse, Osama, was a tall white pure bred horse that had strong muscles and could run for miles before tiring.
Something that was very helpful in his line of work.
For you see, Al Mualim was not an ordinary traveler, oh no. Al Mualim was an Assassin.
His white robes with a red sash around his waist showed that much to anyone familiar with the Assassins of Masyaf. His cream colored skin was covered by a long hood with an eagle like beak on it, casting a dark shadow over his eyes. His black goatee was the only thing that was notable about the thirty year old killer. He stopped his horse and peered off into the distance and noticed something off. He focused and soon the world turned black and he noticed a golden blur moving towards him slowly. He blinked and ride towards it. 'I wonder what this could be?' he pondered in his head.
Within a minute he was standing in front of a small eight year old boy. "Who are you?" the bit said with an edge if toughness in his voice.
Al Mualim smirked. "My name is Al Mualim. And you are?" he asked.
The boy looked at the man as if he was judging him to be friend or foe. He cocked his head to the side and Al Mualim laughed. "Tell me your name boy." he said with a smile.
"I am Altair." he said angrily. Al Mualim nodded. "And why are you out here alone?" he asked.
Altair shuffled his feet in nervousness. He was never asked so many questions before. People in Damascus never paid him any attention. But this man, Al Mualim, he found to be a friend of some sort. He felt like he could trust him.
"I killed a boy at my orphanage." he mumbled.
This caused Al Mualim's eye brows to rise. "Really now? Very interesting. Did he do something to you to deserve death?" he asked.
Altair shrugged. "He stole all my food and I beat him up a lot but he just stopped breathing." he explained.
Al Mualim stroked his beard. No remorse, a just cause, and no hope for a life. He reminded Al Mualim of himself as a teen.
"Very well. If you would like, I can take you to a place where you will not be judged for this." he said with a smile.
Altair seemed to be thinking it over but wasn't convinced. "I don't know..."
"We have food for you to eat." he said casually.
"Done." Altair said and climbed onto the horse. Al Mualim chuckled and spurred his horse and they galloped back to his home.
XxX
Al Mualim watched the young boy eat a slab of beef and drain his bowl of stew in about three minutes. He laughed as Altair let out a large burp and caused the boy to scowl. "Shut up." he grumbled and drank his milk.
Al Mualim smirked and shook his head.
Altair finished his milk and looked around the building. It was a large castle dining room. There were ornate windows with eagles engraved on them that let the warm sun light in. The cold stone walls were adorned with a strange symbol that was similar to the large one outside the entrance of the castle. Above them was a balcony that had many flags hanging down from them. The flags were red with the white symbol on them. He frowned. "Hey Al Mualim, what is that symbol on the flag?" he finally asked.
Al Mualim looked up and noticed what he was talking about. "That is the symbol of our order." he answered proudly.
"Order? Like knights?" he asked.
Al Mualim hummed in thought for a moment. "Sort of. We are a group of Assassins who fight for peace in all things. We fight tyranny and corruption and evil warlords. It is what we have always done since the beginning of evil." he said.
Altair stared at the banner and felt a feeling in his chest. Like this was something he was meant to do. Back at the orphanage, although he was rough, he despised bullies. In fact, he never stole from any child at the orphanage. Once he caught an older child stealing a little girl's toys. Altair walked over to him, grabbed his hand, and twisted, breaking his wrist.
"Can I join?" he asked.
Al Mualim was surprised. Not many children wanted to join the Assassins. It was mostly lost teens or lonely adults. But every once in a while, a child came to them. "If you can pass the tests." he said seriously.
Altair nodded. "I will. And I won't stop until I finish them."
Al Mualim nodded. "Then let us begin!"
The two stood and they walked into a court yard and walked through the beautiful garden until they came to a large wooden wall. "Follow me, and keep up." he said and ran up the wall a few feet before he grabbed a ledge and began climbing. Altair followed with some trouble but made it to the top soon enough.
Al Mualim laughed and jumped off the wall, grabbing a pole and swung himself to the next ledge. Altair followed soon after. "Very good my boy." he said and dove off the twelve foot ledge and rolled to a stop.
"Tuck and roll, Altair." he reminded him.
Altair looked down the ledge and took a deep breath and jumped. As soon as he hit the ground he collapsed his knees and dropped his shoulder to the ground and rolled clumsily. He slowly got to his feet and smirked. "Easy."
Al Mualim was, needless to say, impressed. Not many eight year olds could do what Altair just did. This was a great opportunity indeed. "We aren't done yet!" he said and jumped off the ledge and landed on a roof. He sprinted and jumped from roof to roof and waited for Altair to follow.
Without hesitation, Altair jumped off and hit the ground running. He jumped across the gap in the two houses and landed safely on the other side. He climbed up to the roof of the next house and jumped onto the chimney and leapt across the large gap. He managed to grab the ledge and hold pull himself up and panted.
"I... Told you...it's easy." he said, out of breath.
Al Mualim nodded. "Indeed. All that's left is to get down and you pass the first test." he said and looked over the edge.
Altair followed his gaze and noticed that they were maybe thirty feet off the ground. He gulped and noticed a cart full of hay and looked at Al Mualim who nodded.
Altair closed his eyes and jumped.
His heart fluttered and he felt a rush of excitement as he closed in on the hay below him. He smiled happily and opened his eyes.
A second later he was in a pile of hay and climbed out, brushing himself off, a boyish grin still on his face. A moment later Al Mualim was by his side. "Well done my boy!" he said happily.
Altair nodded. "Thank you."
Al Mualim walked off and motioned for him to follow him. "There's a man I'd like you to meet. He's in charge if the whole operation here and will supervise you on your training."
Altair and Al Mualim walked up the stairs to a large library and found a scarred man sitting behind a desk with a black ornate cloak around his robes. He glanced up from his book and smiled. "Ah! Al Mualim, come in my child. And who is this you have brought with you?" he questioned. Al Mualim smiled. "Good day, Al Assar. This little boy is Altair. He wishes to join the Assassins. He has already completed the obstacle course so I was thinking you could oversee his training."
Al Assar smiled. "Well let's see what you've got in the ring." he said and stood, revealing his large six foot five and well built structure. "Follow me." he said and the three walked into the courtyard and Altair and Al Assar stepped into the practice ring.
The two faced off and Al Assar nodded and Altair charged and punched at his gut. Al Assar side stepped and slapped his hand away. Altair growled and lunged back and him, punching left and right, but each time he'd be blocked.
Finally he punched out and Al Assar grabbed his hand and back handed him. Surprisingly, Altair got back up, a bloody cut on his cheek from where the skin was split. Al Assar held his hand up and Altair stopped. Al Assar then said,
"You have stamina, you don't give up, and you have a high pain tolerance for one so young. I will teach you." and Altair smiled.
XxX
"There are many parts to use to your advantage when in unarmed combat. The throat, kidneys, liver and a quick jab below the belt. These are useful for taking down multiple attackers with ease." Al Assar said as Altair paid close attention to the Master Assassin.
"Now for combat against opponents with weapons your main priority should be to disarm your opponent. We will practice this one another novice. Otar!" he called and a teen in blue robes walked in carrying a wooden sword. He glanced at Altair and chuckled. "You want me to swing this at that little runt?" he asked.
Altair narrowed his eyes at him and Otar chuckled more. Al Assar nodded. "That is exactly what you are to do Otar." he said.
Otar shrugged. "As you wish." he said and the two walked outside and entered the ring. "Follow what I do." he said and nodded. Otar came at him and swung his sword in a downward slash. Al Assar grabbed his hands and kneed him in the stomach and twisted his wrist, wrestling the sword from his grip.
With a smirk he tossed the sword back to Otar who caught it deftly in his hand. Altair stepped in the ring and got ready for the swing. When the sword swung down Altair caught his wrist but failed to knee him in the stomach. The sword was taken from him and he got a rap on the shin. "That's your leg kid." Otar said with a cocky grin.
They tried again but, as before, Altair was hit. This time the sword connected with his elbow. The third time he was hit in the stomach. And again he was knocked over. And again. And again.
Al Assar sighed. "That's enough for-"
"NO! Again!"
The two Assassins looked down at the bruised body of Altair and looked at each other. Al Assar nodded and Otar sighed. "Last time. My sword arm tires." he joked.
He swung the sword down at Altair's head but Altair grabbed it and leapt forward and head butted him in the nose. Otar flew back and Altair took the sword and swept his legs out from under him and pointed the tip at his neck. Then he smirked. "Now your arm can rest."
Otar groaned and rubbed his shins as he stood. "Pretty good runt." he said with a smirk.
Altair grunted and tossed the sword to a smiling Al Assar. "Very good. Otar show him to his quarters."
Otar nodded. "Yes sir." he said and turned to Altair. "Follow me." he said and walked away. Altair nodded and followed.
As they walked up the stairs of a tower Otar spoke. "So how old are you exactly?" he asked.
"Eight. You?" Altair responded.
Otar smirked. "Thirteen. Joined last year. Why'd you join up? I haven't seen you around Masyaf before."
"I'm from Damascus. I uh... Killed a kid at my orphanage. So I fled and Al
Mualim found me." he explained.
Otar nodded. "Interesting story. Well it's good that you go your first kill out of the way." he said.
Altair turned to him in confusion. "You aren't mad at me? Think I'm a murderer?"
Otar laughed. "Altair we're training to be Assassins. We all have to kill someone at some point. Calling you murderer would be slightly foolish don't you think?"
"I guess." Altair said.
Otar stopped in front of a door. "Well this is your room. If you need anything you come see me. I'm on the next floor." he said. Altair nodded. "Okay. See you tomorrow Otar." he said as he opened the door to his room.
The room was a decent size. There was a double bed with a large window behind, and a small book case beside it. Across the room was a desk and a lamp for taking notes. Beside that was a wardrobe with some robes in it. Altair looked at them and tried them on. They were teal with a hood and mask. He pulled the mask down around his neck and pulled the hood up. It had a leather chest guard and shoulder pads with leather boots. There was a loop for a sword on the hip but Altair didn't think he'd get one for a while.
Taking them off and putting them on the desk for him to wear tomorrow, Altair rested.
The next day Altair woke to a knocking on his door. He sat up and looked out the window to still see the moon out. He groaned and got out of bed and opened the door.
"Morning runt." said Otar.
"What do you want?" he yawned.
Otar chuckled. "It's time to get up. Five AM."
Altair groaned and nodded. "Let me get dressed." he said and closed the door and put his robes on. He came out of the room and rubbed his eyes. "So what do we do now?"
"Well what we do now is do a training exercise." Otar said and grinned. "Come on."
XxX
"How the...hell do you...keep going!" Altair shouted after Otar as he scaled a five story building and jumped down to another roof top before he continued his sprint. Altair followed, albeit slowly, and tripped on a ledge. "Ugh. Hold up!" he said and continued chasing after a laughing Otar.
Altair found himself smirking though as he jumped down and rolled and continued sprinting. Suddenly they came to a stop at a guard tower. "You think you got what it takes?" Otar said, a little winded from the exercise.
Altair nodded. "Let's go."
The duo began climbing the tower and jumping from ledge to ledge. Otar reached the top first and gazed oh over the canyon that led into Syria.
As Altair reached the top he, too, gazed out over the horizon. The two watched the sun rise slowly over the plains and cliffs of the country side and Otar smiled. "I don't care how great any city in the Holy Land is. This place, Masyaf, is the most beautiful sight I've ever beheld." he said as he looked up at the orange and purple skyline.
Altair watched as bright orange met deep blue night sky and smiled. "It is pretty nice up here." he said as the desert wind blew gently.
Otar nodded. "Alright runt, let's head home." he said.
XxX
The two boys reached the hall in time for breakfast. A table was laid out and there sat twenty boys and men, all of them eating eggs and some salted pork.
Altair immediately dug into his meal as it was placed in front of him. Otar chuckled. "Christ, Altair. I didn't think that little jog took that much out of you!" he said.
Altair glared at him and swallowed his food. "You call that little? I almost fell off a couple times!"
Otar shrugged. "You would have merely broken your ankle or something minor." he said casually.
Altair scowled. "Yeah. Minor." he repeated sarcastically.
Otar ruffled his hair. "Oh get over it runt! It's what we all do when we are trainees. And since I've been appointed as your tutor it's my responsibility to make sure you train right every day."
"You're my tutor?"
Otar nodded. "That's right! You'll be seeing a lot of me from now on." he said and smirked.
Altair sighed. "Great."
XxX
"Keep your wrist loose and your fingers tight. You want your opponent's blade to be deflected away from their body." Otar said and slashed at Altair who blocked with his blade. "Too loose Altair! Keep it tight but ready to be flexed. You want it loose enough to deflect their blade without hurting your wrist." he said and horizontally slashed at him.
Altair swung his sword down and knocked Otar's sword down and swung up. Otar swung his head back and dodged the strike. He brought his sword up and defended against Altair's downward slash. "Keep your arm bent. Never lock the elbow!" he said and dodged the strike and grabbed Altair by the wrist and twisted his arm behind his back and put his foot on his spine. "And now they can dislocate your shoulder." he said and kicked Altair away.
Altair rolled his shoulder back and forth and picked his sword up. "Again." he said and the two squared off.
Above on the balcony, Al Mualim and Al Assar watched the novice train the newbie.
"He seems to have a certain confidence about him." Al Mualim said and scratched the stubble on his cheek. Al Assar nodded. "Indeed. I see great things for those two." he said and smiled. "I remember training you as a teen."
The two laughed at the memories the two had shared as teenagers. Back when Al Mualim was a child it had been Al Assar who had been his tutor. The two had been on missions together, fought together, and killed together. They were inseparable and the closest of friends.
"Yes, those were some good memories." Al Mualim said happily.
"Indeed they were, my friend. Now, we need to talk about the matters at hand." Al Assar said and turned and walked into his study.
Al Mualim followed and stroked his chin. "I have discovered movement of a few weapons merchants. They seem to be selling to more men. I fear a new crusade will begin soon. Eliminating these small time dealers will slow the oncoming storm, but will not stop it. The Europeans are set on reclaiming Jerusalem." he said and pulled some documents out of his robes and handed them to Al Assar. He read them over and nodded. "I see. But what of the influx of men from Arabia?" he asked.
"More men come each day to Gaza and make their way to Jerusalem. They too are convinced of an oncoming storm."
"Then we must deal with the recruiters as well as the weapons dealers."
Al Mualim frowned. "But what have they done wrong? They are not corrupt. They are not doing intentional evil." he argued.
Al Assar nodded. "Hmm. You are correct." he said and seemed to be thinking on something.
Al Mualim waited patiently for him to finish his thoughts. When Al Assar looked up he spoke. "Send Altair. This will be his rite of passage. He will gather information on a certain weapons dealer in Damascus."
"Is that wise?" Al Mualim questioned.
Al Assar nodded. "No one will suspect a child. I will not send him to take a life. But he will have to be careful. It is his first mission and I will send one of our own to watch over him. I will send Dakar."
Al Mualim nodded. "I agree. That is the best course of action I could think of."
Al Assar smiled. "Excellent. Inform our newest recruit of the plan." Al Mualim nodded and turned and went to the practice ring.
"Altair! Come here for a moment!" he shouted to the boy.
Altair nodded and ran over. "Yes Al Mualim?"
Al Mualim smiled. "We have a task for you. In five days you are to head to Damascus. You will be briefed on what to do there by the bureau leader, Dakar. Otar will outfit you for your journey." Al Mualim said.
Altair smiled and nodded. He was very excited for his first mission. He felt like he was already rising through the ranks of the Assassins! As if he was really important.
Like he had a purpose.
That was one thing he had always wondered about while in Damascus. He had seen how the people had lived, how they seemed to walk around waiting for Allah to take them to paradise, mindlessly wasting their lives away. How he resented that life style. He felt it boring. Not only that but, since no one would adopt him, he'd be thrown out at 18 to live on the streets. Then his only purpose would be to survive. That was a future he did not look forward to. But no longer would he have to worry about that. Now he knew he had something to do. A cause that meant something.
"I accept the mission." He said with eagerness in his voice.
Al Mualim smiled. "Excellent, my child! Like I said, go tell Otar and he will get you prepared. Oh and Altair, this is an information gathering mission. Do not step out of line." He warned. Altair nodded. "Of course." He said and walked back to Otar.
"Well what was that all about?" Otar asked as he returned to the ring.
"They are sending me on an information gathering mission." He said happily. Otar smiled, "Well I better get you suited up then. When do you leave?"
"Five days." Altair replied.
Otar nodded. "Better teach you all the necessary moves then."
XxX
Five days had passed and Altair stood at the gates of the city he grew up in.
Damascus.
He walked in through the open gates and looked around at the familiar sights of market vendors bribing customers with special deals, people exchanging gossip, and the occasional children running about. He walked into the district he was told to go to and looked around. Not seeing any guards he climbed up the door frame and grabbed the window. He pulled himself up on that and grabbed the ledge and hoisted himself onto the roof, ignoring the questioning gazes of the populace below.
He wandered around the roof tops of the poor district until he came to a building with a hollowed out roof top. He dropped down and entered the building. There stood a young bearded man who regarded him with a smile. "Welcome, young Altair." He said.
Altair nodded and pulled his hood down. "Hello, Dakar." He said.
Dakar nodded. "So, Al Assar tells me that you are here to gather information?" he asked the young novice. Altair nodded. "That's correct. He said something about a weapons dealer here. I'm supposed to keep an eye on him." He explained. Dakar nodded. "Once again, you are correct. The man is Salam Dijhad. He deals with terrorists, bandits and warlords in the tribal areas of Syria. Not exactly a good man now is he?" Dakar speculated. Altair shook his head. "No he doesn't. But if you know about him, why not send a real Assassin after him? Not me?" he asked. Dakar raised a finger. "Ah! An excellent question, young Altair. The answer is simple. He deals with criminals, yes. But you are to find out who he is now dealing with, why, and if it is grounds for an assassination."
Altair nodded. "Got it. I will not disappoint you or the brotherhood."
"Then go! You can find him in the market square at noon tomorrow. That is where he discusses his business with his clients."
Altair walked through the crowded streets of Damascus as he searched for information. He noticed people were giving him strange looks before shrugging and turning away. It was not unusual for a small child to wander the streets. It was, however, strange for that child to be wearing teal robes.
Shrugging those thoughts off, he focused on the task at hand as he entered the large plaza. He looked around and noticed two men with swords talking in hushed whispers. He smirked and drew his hood up and stood in the crowd and listened in.
"He wants the shipment moved tonight? Tonight!" the man on the left with blue robes a white cloth wrapped around his face.
The man on the rich nodded. "Yes. I know it will be hard but the buyer needs it now. We are to deliver it to the Ab'ajad plains outside of Damascus. We leave from the west gate."
Altair smiled and sunk back into the crowd. He had some new information. He knew where the shipment would be and when. But first he needed to know who the buyer was.
He saw a wealthy man leaving an office and saw him hand something to a man in a beige shirt with red pants. The man nodded and walked the opposite way.
Altair followed the man down an alley and bumped into him. "Excuse me sir." he said in a squeaky voice. If there was one thing good about being a child Assassin was that you could get away with things with a shaky voice and some puppy eyes.
The man nodded and continued walking as Altair ran off.
Up above on the roof tops, Dakar watched with humor in his eyes. The boy was proving to be a genius already. Perhaps he would be able to see him flourish into a Master Assassin some day.
He continued to follow his charge and observed the boy reading the letter he had stolen off the man in the alley.
Altair read over the letter stating a lot of things. The contents of the shipment, the location of the warehouse, and the buyers name.
"Who's Robert de Sable?" he wondered and noticed the large red cross stamped on the page. He shrugged and pocketed the letter and made his way back to the bureau.
He climbed up to the top of a building and began the walk back to the bureau. As soon as he got there he noticed Dakar was reading his book and writing some notes.
He handed him the note. "Apparently they are selling to a man named Robert de
Sable." he said. "The information in the notes confirms it."
Dakar froze. "What else." he said sternly.
Altair, confused by the change of tone in the kind man, hesitated. "Uh, well they're meeting with a new shipment in the plains outside of Damascus tonight." he said.
He nodded. "Excellent. I will inform Al Assar of this development. Altair, there is no time, you must spy on the meeting. The men will be armed so here." he said and handed him a sword.
"What am I supposed to do?" he asked.
"If you are discovered, run. If you can't, fight. But do not fight Robert. He will kill you!" he said and wrote a letter. He grabbed a pigeon and put the letter on its foot and let it lose. "You might get back up later. But for now... You're on your own."
Altair nodded. "Got it."
XxX