He'd only been Mentor for seven years and already the order had been restored to its former glory after the treachery of Al Mualim. However all the Assassins of the order claimed that Altair had brought them to greater heights than any master that had come before him. In the short time between becoming Mentor and now he had become a father twice, little Darim was now three and Sef was one, both from his loving wife Maria. Altair had studied the Apple with great intensity everyday trying to learn the secrets that it held. Except for today that is.
Altair had grown tired of sitting in his study and was now watching the novices train. Staying in the shadows as not to draw attention to himself, he smiled as he remembered his first days of training, brutal instructors, brutal heat, brutal courses designed to heighten ones reflexes and free running abilities. He laughed because thinking about it there wasn't anything not brutal about novice training. He continued to watch as two young boys were put into the training circle to learn how to sword fight. This was the first day that actual swords had been used and both were told to be careful so that they didn't injure one another. But as chance would have it one of them did, a poorly aimed swing had left a gash in one of the boys legs. He fell to the ground holding on to his thigh whimpering at the pain. The instructor ran over to the boy and called out to the rest, "That is it for the afternoon. I must go tend to his injuries before they become more serious." "That is not necessary I will take care of the boy. Continue with your training", Altair stated. Everyone in the courtyard turned and bowed in greeting to the Mentor. "Thank you Master Altair", the instructor replied. Altair nodded and walked over to the trembling boy who was now looking up at him with large wet eyes. "Come here", he said as he picked the child up and carried him inside the castle.
Altair weaved through the halls until he came to a room created to treat the sick and wounded. He opened the door and set the child down on a bench and then went to go get supplies. When he return he saw the novice was still hanging on tightly to his leg. He smiled and said, "You need to let go so I can clean and wrap it." The boy looked up at him worried but did as he was told and released the bloody limb. As Altair began cleaning the wound the little boy spoke up, "Um...Master Altair?" "What is it young one?" "I was wondering if you could tell me a story. Not just any story, the story of how you became an Assassin." Altair shook his head and asked, "Now why would you want to hear that story?" " My friend said he heard rumors about how you were born fighting and how you were defeating Templars when you were only ten years old", the boy said with amazement in his voice. Altair thought for a moment and asked, "What is your name?" "Zaahir." "Well Zaahir my tale as an Assassin isn't as grand as your friend thinks it is, it's actually more or less the opposite. Are you sure you still want to hear it?" Zaahir nodded quickly wanting the master to go on.