A/N: Hello there to anyone who clicked the link to come here! Thanks so much for doing so, I love it when people readmy stories xD
Anyway, this is my first AC fanfic, so please forgive if somethings aren't exactly spot on-bullseye mark...That made no sense at all did it? Oh well...
Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter! If there are things that are confusing or not right, please message me and point them out. No flames please! Thanks(:

*revised*

Chapter one

The soft breeze blew through the small forest and rustled the green maple leaves, their edges tinged with gold as the sun reflected off them in the Syrian sunset. The sun's last bright golden rays of the day shone down on a small girl, kicking her feet in the water of a nearby stream and dropping flower petals into the current. She turned her head to look at a woman standing a few yards away from her, and her mouth broke into a grin, revealing two missing teeth.

"Mamá!" she cried happily, reaching for the woman with her arms. The woman laughed and ran for her, scooping the small girl up into her arms. The little girl planted a kiss on her mother's cheek and wrapped her arms around her neck. The woman smiled, and standing up, she took the small girls hand and led her away to a large battlement wall. The woman froze in her tracks and her smile disintegrated as the sound of screaming and metal clashing met her ears. She watched in horror as a man was thrown over the wall surrounding the town.

Gently but firmly she pushed the small girl into a door in the wall and ran up the stairs, dragging her behind. The little girl worriedly ran alongside her mother, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"What's happening? Mamá, what is wrong?"

The woman bent down and smoothed the girl's hair. "Nothing my child, now go! Run to your room and stay there!" She pushed the child in the direction she was to go, and ran in the opposite, a group of men in armor chasing her. The bright red cross boldly printed on their chest never left the young girl's mind as her mother collapsed in a puddle of blood.

My eyes shot open to reveal the darkened walls of my bedchambers. I frantically glanced around the room, tense and alert as if something would jump out of the shadows and attack me. I reached up and placed a hand to my chest, and felt the rapid, pounding beat of my heart. Closing my eyes, I rolled over onto my back and took deep breaths to steady my breathing. The same dream had been haunting me for the past week or so. The same dream over and over again.

I threw the covers off me and sat up, my bare feet brushing the cool, stone floor. Pulling on my robe, I stood up and crossed the room to the dark, wooden door that served as my only entrance into the fortress. I entered the hallway and swiftly walked across the stone floors to a set of stairs. The cold grey stone became a blur under me as I ran along barefooted to my father's bedchamber, the darkness doing nothing to confuse me as I dashed along, the moonlight guiding my way. At last I came to a large, dark, mahogany door with a brass knocker hanging sedately in the center. I reached out, turning the latch and peeked in cautiously. My father is known to be a light sleeper, as are most Assassin's.

A heap of blankets in the center of the bed confirmed my suspicions. I cautiously stepped forward, careful not to step on any creaky boards, but my carefulness had gone in vain, as my father was sitting up, fully alert and holding a knife in his hand when I tripped over a fold in the carpet.

"Kahlia?" he mumbled, blinking. "What is it child?"

I bit my lip and sat down on the edge of the mattress. "I had a dream about Mother again."

He lowered his arm and set the knife back on the table next to the bed. "Again? Isn't this the third time so far?"

I shook my head. "Far more than the third, Father. I'm sorry to wake you, I'll leave." I got up to exit the dark room and go back to my own, but a firm grip on my arm held me in my place. I slowly sat back down on the bed and turned to back to him.

"I know you miss her," he said, brushing a stray lock of hair away from my face. "As do I, but there is nothing that can be done to alter the past. You must understand that." His dark brown hues locked with my hazel ones and I sighed.

"Yes, I know," I lowered my head and my gaze rested on the finely woven Arabian blanket. "But I keep wondering how different life would be if she was still here."

My father sighed and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into a loving hug. "It is not good to dwell on the past, Kahlia. Memories are hidden in the back of our minds, and eventually return to haunt us," he responded, pinching my cheek gently. "You should go and see Aniq tomorrow, she's probably wondering where you've hid yourself for the past month."

I smiled at the thought of my beloved Aniq del Fontaine, my best friend since childhood. She was so bubbly and fun-loving, it was impossible to be in any state of depression around her – the perfect antidote to keep my mind off the dream.

"You're right, I should," I turned my head up and smiled at my father. His face was wrinkled and weathered with age, and he was steadily growing out his white beard. His dark eyes twinkled as he smiled down at me. I smiled back. "I'll see you tomorrow," I said, hugging him and standing up to exit the room. The blankets rustled as he lay back down, and I closed the door with a soft click, and went back up the stone path to my room.

It was a bit strange to have an Assassin as a father, especially the head assassin, or the Master, or Ruler of all assassin's, or the big-king-kahoola or whatever one may choose to call it. I never know when I might find him bent over his desk in the library, a knife in his back. It wasn't a very enticing subject to dwell upon, though it was entertaining watching the Assassin's in their white, billowy capes jump around on rooftops, I will admit that honestly. I've never really ever met one of my father's Assassins, as I'm not allowed any contact with them. He says it's distracting to them to have a woman around, and weakens them if they fall in love. That has always confused me, for he fell in love with my mother, didn't he?

I twirled one of my light brown locks around my finger and entered my bedroom, shutting the heavy door behind me. I exhaled deeply and flopped backwards onto my bed, the frame creaking as I threw my weight upon it. I discarded my robe into a corner, not really aiming in any particular direction when I threw it, and I curled up under my covers, attempting to get some sleep. I solemnly hoped I wouldn't have another dream of my mother, they're quite disturbing actually. Usually about her death.

I buried my face in my pillow, and it wasn't long before I was enveloped in a deep and peaceful slumber.

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