Disclaimer : Assassin's Creed isn't mine. It's Ubisoft's. I just really like it.

Birth of an Assassin

Before him, the land stretched, endless. Hues of dark green, brown, yellow and orange mingled as far as the eye could see, looking quiet and still from this far away.

The man sucked in a breath, feeling his lungs burn in protest. Bent forward, his hands resting on his knees, he tried to will away the throbbing pain in his side. Perspiration moistened his entire body, and his hair was flattened against his forehead, despite a gusty wind. He closed his eyes a moment against the sting of sweat, but was immediately drawn again to the sight before him.

In the distance, the city rose in tones of steel and concrete against the blue expense of the sky, it's hordes of mirrored glass windows seemingly ablaze in the morning sunlight.

Majestic.

Inviting.

But there was no reaching it. Gasping in the frigid air, the young man shook his head, sending a few droplets flying. He'd been beaten. He'd lost. Behind him, the hunting party would be growing nearer, ghosts in the forest he'd just escaped. Escape. Ha! An illusion, he could now see. He'd never really stood a chance. Though for the moment unseen and silent, he had no doubt they were still on his trail.

They were relentless, his hunters. They'd chased him across the province. They'd seem to know his every move the moment he'd made them. There had been no respite. Whenever he'd felt safe enough to try and get some rest, it had hardly helped. He felt feverish with fear, and confusion.

If he'd managed to stop a few of his pursuers the night before, almost accidentally, too, it hadn't been enough. He could still see in his mind the man sprawled below, arms and legs at odd angles amidst machines and lumber, after a five-story fall. He hadn't stayed around to see exactly how dead he was, but it had been pretty convincing.

Anyway, that one had been an accident, a result of fortuitous circumstances, to tell the truth, but still an accident. Unlike the other. That body he could never unsee, crumpled in a heap at his feet, haloed in an expanding red pool. He'd refused to look too closely then, but his imagination had filled in the blanks quite nicely. There had been much blood when the glass shard had ripped a ragged line in her neck.

God… he'd actually killed someone! A woman, too, for Christ's sake! He hadn't known until it had been too late. Not that it would have changed the outcome. It had been him or her. His sense of chivalry was misguided, he knew. Maybe the guilt he felt was unfounded, even. It was self-defence. And they didn't seem to let guilt or principles stop them.

They kept coming, and he kept running.

He was fit, that had helped, but fitness only took you so far. And it offered little protection against bullets. A stupid mistake that was, thinking even for a second he'd lost the bastards. He'd paid for it, too. His shirt and pants were stained red from the consequences. He'd kept running then, but had had little hope anymore. There must have been four or five of them when he'd entered the forest, though there had seemed to be less as he'd moved further in. He was tired. After a while, he'd felt he'd started distancing his pursuers. They hadn't been taking as many shots at him.

And now this.

He shivered in the cold autumn air, sending a new jolt of pain down his side. Adrenaline, until then a constant companion, urging him forward, was threatening to abandon him.

How many were still after him, now? Did it even matter? They were an army against a lone man. They were replaceable. Never tiring. Everywhere.

Once he'd started to notice the trees getting ever so slightly thinner, he'd thought himself, well… out of the woods. A gross misconception, though the forest did come to an abrupt end. Still breathing heavily, he now stood on the cliff's edge, out of ground, and out of options. It was shitty luck. The drop was perhaps a hundred feet, down to the river.

His hand absent-mindedly reached down to the pocket of his cargo pants, his fingers closing protectively around the artefact. He felt his pulse against it, though his hand had stopped bleeding from the shard's cut. It was hard to wrap his mind around it: his life forfeit for such an insignificant bauble. What was there to it that he couldn't see? Once again, he noticed how warm it was becoming to the touch. It might have been his own body heat, but he could swear the metal was never cold when he first touched it, even in the crisp seasonal air.

He'd acquired it in the most peculiar of manner. Everything had been different, then. Mere hours. Hell, he'd been different, then. Cockier and more arrogant, certainly. He didn't feel like much now, though. Ignorant, he'd certainly been that. Not that he knew or understood much more now, but he at least was aware there were things he'd never suspected existed. A whole, foreign, dangerous world right under his nose. There had been fear in her eyes, he was sure. He'd dismissed it, but he saw it clearly now. Surely she'd known what she was asking of him, then. But had she realized how close the danger she spoke of was? Still, he'd taken the artefact, with a promise to deliver it into the rightful hands.

And there it was, his goal. Within sight, and well out of reach. A soft chuckle escaped his cracked lips. End of the road. Somewhere behind him, the forest creaked with the weight of his hunters. Any second now, they'd be upon him.

He looked down at the artefact in his hand. He had contemplated just dropping it, back at the bus station. Almost did. Would they have been content to just retrieve it and leave him alone? He hadn't thought so. And he couldn't do this to her. He had decided to try and keep his promise. Not that it was going to happen now.

He drew in a sharp breath, pain exploding anew in his side, but he just ignored it. He was beyond that. Resolute, he clutched the small metal object in his hand. He wouldn't look down. He couldn't. He couldn't let them get their hands on it either, whatever it was, and whoever they were. He wouldn't get his answers, and he wouldn't get help. He wondered briefly what had happened to her. Amy. It was too late. He took a step forward, feeling the earth loosen beneath his feet. Blocking the pain, he inhaled deeply, then exhaled.

In one powerful surge, he propelled himself into the air, his mind cleared. For a fraction of a second, he was floating, suspended. An eternity. It felt good. Great, even. No fear, just exhilaration. They weren't going to get him. They weren't going to get it. He thought he heard screaming behind him. It almost sounded like his name. Or maybe some bird crying. He couldn't care.

Constant, reliable, gravity pulled him down.

A/N : It was going to be a stand alone kinda thing, but as I was writing it, I kept thinking there was more to it and that it might be worth telling. So here it is, as the prologue to a longer story. Again, please review if you liked or didn't like or if you just enjoy saying hello to random strangers on the Internet.