A/N

This is my first fan-fiction ever! So I beg of you to not be too harsh on me, even if you are the queen/king of writing/grammar ... well, what ever. Be nice please. This is a story inspired by the many Assassin's Creed Fanfic's I've read, in which you may find similarities. I wrote this fanfic on a whim so it might have mistakes, but thank you very much Agryu for your beta reading this for me!

For some reason I decided to put this in 1st person view. This takes place before Altair becomes Master Assassin, so he is still in his teen years.

A pained cry was the first thing I heard. My eyes snapped open in alertness from this sound, but I saw nothing but darkness. The cry began to fade and then increase in octave with each brief pause. Slowly, I sat myself up from my prone position on the cold stone floor. A familiar scent of feces and blood assaulted my nostrils, causing me to gag. Trying to assess the situation that had befallen me, I instinctively checked my equipment.

Surprisingly, I was unable to bring my hands no further than the width of my waist. It only took a moment to see that thick cuffs and heavy chains bound me. I forced my arms up and around, turning them in all directions and finding it quite difficult to break free. "Newly crafted it seems…" I mused aloud. Curiously I followed the chain towards a nearby wall, brushing my thick, callused fingers over the bolt in which the chain resided. "…This as well."

The wailing ceased, leaving an odd silence. I stood still, muscles tensing, my senses flaring with caution. Suddenly, a loud click was heard followed by a jingle of what seemed like keys. The large wooden door slowly creaked open, assaulting my eyes with a sudden change in hue. I lifted my hands to shield my eyes as they slowly adjusted to the light. Two heavily built men then roughly grabbed me.

Their attire was black, laced with golden stripes along the rims of their robes. I'd recognize these uniforms anywhere—no doubt my target Haytham Seif had captured me. Summoning a low growl, I glared at my assailants with annoyance. "Where am I being taken?" I asked one of them. I was granted with a quick jab in the jaw and a brief response, "Silence, Assassin!"

My body was still too groggy after the failed attempt to assassinate my target and I dared not pester them any further, or risk tempting them to injury me further. Two more guards joined them as I exited the dark cell.

"Walk!" one of them ordered, thrusting me forward with a rough push between my shoulders. I stumbled, almost falling forward. With suppressed anger, I glared at the guard, gritting my teeth to restrain my urge to disembowel the fool.

The hallway was dimly lit by torches, illuminating the murky walls with dark, flickering shadows. I proceeded to walk, though with a limp, a remnant of my failed assassination attempt. Haytham was clever it seemed, having been fully prepared for my arrival in his fortress. As I recall this event, His fortress walls were lined with archers poised for duty. This had not deterred me, but now I wondered if perhaps it should have.

I tried a different approach, instead of walking in through the front gates, with a group of monks. I decided to make it a little more interesting by infiltrating from the fortress walls. How convenient that a wooden ladder stood sprawled, against the stone clad wall. I took one last look around me, to make sure that I was not seen, I began to climb.

Silently I waited until, the patrolling guard walked past where I hid. I then softly landed on the stone floor. Before me stood an archer, oblivious to my presence, such as a viper comes upon its prey, I struck this poor soul. My short blade embedded deep in his thoracic region, his cries of pain and agony muffled by my hand. Slowly he began to sink to his knees as all signs of life left his eyes. Lifting the corpse up over my head I threw him down below, where I spotted a patch of hay, to keep his body hidden.

"…hm? A-Assas-Ugh!" Surprised, I turned around prepared to see the guard, in a fighting stance, but he lay limp, on the floor, blood slowly pooling around his body. "Reckless as always…" said a familiar voice. Dressed in Assassin attire, and equipped to the brim with weapons, knowing him who favors the sword. "Malik…"I said in a monotone voice. With a quick flick of his sword, he gracefully sheathed it. "Who else could it be but me? This is OUR mission; Al Mualim set us both on this crucial mission."

Malik gently grasped my shoulder, "You are not alone brother, we must do this together if we are to succeed." "Do not patronize me! I am not that weak little orphan boy you once knew…"I said forcefully pushing his hand aside. "Speaking of reckless, are you going to just leave that body there?" I pointed at the dead guard. "Now, this is why we make such a good team, brother. Now help me toss this poor soul over the wall."

Finally we made it to the center of Haytham's Fortress; it being more of a city in itself than a fortress. Malik and I made our separate ways. While he took the upper ground, I will take the lower ground. Perched atop one of the watch towers, in the center of this city like fortress, I scanned over the horizon, noting on the storm clouds, which stood in the distance.

The thought of water made my throat cringe for the joy of hydration, causing my tongue to run over chapped lips in anticipation. I gulped deeply, vision shifting across the stronghold's walls and scanning the crowd for my target. There. The yellow glow stood out from all the blurring grey and blistering red of guards, clearly marking his position atop a short wooden pedestal, where he stood as if showcasing himself.

I found this quite odd, but nonetheless, I prepared for my leap of faith. Leaping off the wooden platform, my arms open wide, safely landing in a cart full of hay with a slight puff. I began circling my way through the crowd towards Haytham. The high-pitched sound of an eagle was heard from above and I glanced up. My eyes rested upon my partner Malik, perched atop a nearby building. Our eyes met, and my fellow Assassin gave a nod, assuring me that the archers were taken care of. I turned my attention back to my target, my eyes fixed on his throat.

I quickened my pace, shoving my way through the crowd and preparing my crossbow. The first shot took down one guard, the arrow piercing itself through his thick skull with an unsettling crunch. The other thrust his sword down from above and I sidestepped to my left, stabbing the soldier with my short blade, neatly in between his ribs.
"This is too easy…" I thought to myself as the last fell. My target did not flinch nor move from his pedestal, simply standing there with a sly grin pulling at the edge of his rugged jaw.

I was perplexed and quite envious of this man's bravery. In this moment of bewilderment, I regrettably hesitated. My dagger was only inches away from this man's throat, and yet I was not quick enough to swipe it across his neck. I quickly found out that, despite his small stature, he was fairly agile and strong. He knocked the wind out of me with a sharp jab to my abdomen, followed by a blow to my back, causing me to fall to my knees.

He took this chance and straddled me, holding me down. I could feel his weight on my lumbar, but as quickly as he took up the upper hand, Malik came to throw him off. "Come, hurry! Before the guards reorganize!" my partner said, eyes frantic with adrenalin and fear. In response to the panic Malik's eyes spoke, my body mimicked the alarm, struggling to lift myself off the wooden stage. The crowd of spectators began to disperse and scatter in panic. "Assassin!" a guard yelled, pointing in our direction.

We sprinted from the stage, running through the crowd. We were forced to come to a sudden stop as the tangle of people began to bunch together and thicken. "There is no way out!" a bystander yelled. These few words broke the thin line of self-control these people had, and all hell broke loose. Haytham's fortress gates were shut, trapping all chaos within.

Malik swore under his breath. "…Come, this way, brother," he called, pointed in the distance. "There, we can climb over that." I caught sight of the indicated scaffolding, leaning over an unfinished wall of the fortress. We flew together over building after building towards the incomplete wall, but we were not alone. The guards were still hot on our tail, only a few yards away. They seemed to increase in number as we began to draw closer and closer to our exit.

The archers posted on the fortress walls saw us coming and opened fire. The arrows whizzed past my ears, causing me to quicken my steps. Despite the threat, faster and faster we ran, such as an elk running from a pack of wolves.

"Aaaugh!" I heard myself scream. My left shoulder throbbed in pain from the impact of an arrow. "…the lucky bastard," I cursed under my breath, before losing my balance on the uneven ground. I fell face first onto the hot, dust-covered rooftop, only an arm's length away from the scaffolding.

Before I knew it, I had been surrounded on all sides by guards. I stood up, my stance wide, careful of my injured limb and punctured shoulder. "How unfortunate, we couldn't hit two birds with one stone," Haytham said with glee, walking towards me from the entanglement of soldiers. "But you alone will do just fine." His sneer etched into my memory, and the next moment, darkness consumed me as I felt something blunt impact my skull.

A/N

How exciting!... Well, I hope you readers have enjoyed this little snip-it of my imagination. Let me repeat this again, this is my "First fan-fiction ever!" so be nice. Depending on the reviews I may or may not continue this.