WARNING: This story has very detailed character death because I can only write pain ;)
"Tears streaming down your face, when you lose something you cannot replace." ~Coldplay's Fix You
Malik was minding his own business as he reached atop a shelf to grab some supplies for his new map. Recently, the people of Jerusalem started coming to his 'shop' quite often in search of new maps. There was some rumour going around about a man taking and burning them as well as books. Fortunately for the people of Jerusalem, Altair found out who the culprit was and had him dead in a matter of hours. Though it did make him money, Malik was overwhelmed by the sudden request in maps, which made it difficult to focus on anything else.
As he rushed yet another map, he heard a familiar thump outside the Bureau door and assumed it was the Eagle himself. Seeing that he was indeed correct, he turned his head away and continued his work.
"Safety and peace, brother." Altair greeted the man in the black robe.
"Same to you. Do you have any news on Robert?" Malik inquired. Altair's new mission, only a mere day after his last assassination, was to track and dispose of Robert De Sable. Robert was a deceitful man and bent his subordinates will to satisfy his own, not caring about the outcome. He was not in power to lead the Crusaders with Richard to take back the Holy Land, he was interested in conquering it for himself.
"I have news that he is planning an attack with Richard near Arsuf. I will be headed there at once." Altair answered his superior and turned to walk out the door. Malik thought for a moment and wondered how Altair was going to take down an entire Crusader army by himself. Yes, he had faith in the man, but this mission was suicide. He was a fool.
"What is your plan? Surely you won't be running in their without a plan?" Malik put his writing feather down and looked up. Altair stopped in mid walk and slumped his shoulders.
"I ride to Arsuf and convince Richard that Robert is deceiving him." He spoke, but seemed unsure of his own plan. Malik immediately noticed and spoke up.
"You are not positive your plan will work. I can tell." Both were quiet and Altair just stared at his feet, trying to think of how to appease Malik. Malik got up from the small stool he was sitting on and Altair looked up.
"I guess this means I will have to accompany you along the way." This shocked Altair. Malik never left the Bureau, especially on an assassination mission. What was he thinking?
"What do you mean? You cannot fight." Altair's tone was a very confused one. Truth was, he didn't want to see Malik get hurt again. He would never forgive himself if he had caused yet another of one of his dear friend's deaths.
"For your information, I can fight. Unlike you who skipped many of the novice trainings, I actually learned how to fight if one of my limbs were to be taken from me." He replied, somewhat annoyed that Altair thought so lowly of him. Altair just scoffed.
"Like I needed that many days of training anyway…"
"You'd know how to swim if you had attended class, Novice." The Bureau leader retorted back. Altair waved him off and walked outside. He checked over his equipment and scaled the wall. Malik figured he wanted to leave at that moment, so he too prepared to go. He blew out the candles, rolled up his maps, put the books away and strapped his old assassin boots on.
Opening the secret door by the bookcases, Malik crept out, careful to keep the guards' eyes off him. He had abandoned his Bureau robes on the countertop inside and flipped his hood up. He met Altair next to the building and they walked side by side, careful to avoid suspicion. After a while of walking, Altair spoke up, still careful to keep his head low.
"They still suit you, y'know." He commented, referring to Malik's old robes. Malik grinned as his thoughts were now focused on the days of when he was a true assassin. He and Altair were promoted Master Assassins once the old ones retired and moved on to a more peaceful lifestyle. Even though he was promoted the same time Altair was, he was older than the latter by a little less than a year.
Thought he did not receive a reply after his comment, Altair smiled back under his hood.
The two assassins reached the stables and saddled up a horse. Of course, Altair had only brought one horse with him, which was a problem for Malik. He had sold his horse once he arrived in Jerusalem, considering he couldn't afford to have someone look after it. Altair gave him a look that said 'Don't worry about it' and was suddenly gone from Malik's sight. Not wanting to know what Altair was up to, Malik turned to the white horse Altair owned and led him to the road. He figured it would be easiest to get the horse prepared and leave immediately.
Disturbing the calm afternoon atmosphere was the last thing Malik wanted Altair to do, yet here he was racing across the road with a grey stallion, saddled and ready to ride. Before Malik could interpret what Altair had done, the Master Assassin yelled and pointed to his own horse next to Malik.
"Hop on and go!" He shouted. Malik barely had time to do so, but made it in on in time before the guards caught up. Out of all the assassins, he just had to get stuck with Altair. He was furious.
"What was that!?" He yelled across to Altair, who was trying to gain his balance. He had taken the horse so swiftly, he couldn't steady the horse fast enough to properly mount.
"It was me obtaining transportation." He simply explained, knowing Malik would just argue with him anyway.
"And what if a guard had mounted his own horse in pursuit of you?" The Bureau master glared at Altair for a few seconds before returning his eyes to the road ahead. The Eagle shrugged, but it was left unseen by Malik as Altair's horse's movement disguised his own.
Both rode in silence for hours before they spoke again. Arsuf was about two days away from Jerusalem by horse and they had a long road ahead. Altair spotted a merchant ahead and knew his newly acquired horse needed water. Malik followed him and stopped his horse next to a small pole. He tied up the horse the best he could with one arm and walked over to Altair, who spoke with the merchant.
"How much for some bread and a canteen of water?" Altair asked coldly. He had his hood down to let fresh air on his face. His hair was a mess and Malik observed he looked rather tired. He wondered to himself how much time Altair slept before he had to report back to Al Mualim.
Malik fiddled with one of the reins from the horses and looked over to Altair. He was carrying a canteen, but only one piece of bread, much to Malik's dismay. Altair barely ate as he was too busy doing missions, but Malik had a set schedule of when it was time to eat and found it disappointing that they only possessed one piece of bread. He frowned and was about to hop on his horse when a hand in front of him stopped him.
"This" Altair gestured to the white horse, "is my horse, remember?" He rhetorically asked and jumped on his horse.
"You're impossible." Malik stated and reluctantly mounted the grey stallion. After giving the horses some water from the trough, Altair swiftly made the them go into a gallop. As the sun was setting and casting shadows from the dead plants, the two assassins carried on and rode across the desert horizon.
