"You can't do it." That's what they always said.
Every time he found time to get to the platforms in the fortress, someone somehow found him looking at the edge determinedly and bracing himself to run for the end.
But someone always had to find him. Remind him that he couldn't do it. Remind him he was a liability. Crippled. Unable.
But he wasn't, he told himself. He was one of them! Unlike all the others who had become a so-called liability, he kept his strength up. He still wielded a blade. He still raced along the rooftops without a sound. He was still one of them.
He had a disadvantage. A disadvantage that took some abilities away and made others difficult. He persevered through the difficult tasks and accepted the things that he was no longer able to do. But there was one thing everyone told him he could not do that he disagreed. Their excuse as to why he could not leap was always the same.
Because a one-winged hawk cannot fly.
"Think about the eagles, the crows, the songbirds, the hawks. Have you ever seen them take to the air with only one wing keeping them aloft? No. Never. They require two to take to the skies. Think about it. A one-winged hawk cannot fly."
They claimed that no one had ever seen one known as a liability in their eyes take the Leap. They claimed it was impossible.
A slight smile came across his lips. He would show them. He would show them that they were wrong. Dark eyes were fixed on the end of the platform and the air beyond it. He was going to prove them wrong. He knew he was.
He took a deep breath, letting himself relax a bit. Then he strode forward, his strides long and graceful. As graceful as any other Assassin's as he emerged from the shadows and into the sunlight.
The words still echoed in his head, though.
A one-winged hawk cannot fly, the voices sneered.
Yes. They can, he told himself.
You cannot fly! the voices insisted.
Yes. I can! His mind screamed.
The edge was drawing closer and closer with each long stride. Upon reaching it, he threw himself off the edge of the wooden platform, his single arm spread out wide.
The wind buffeted his face. It blew his robes and red sash and the pinned up sleeve where his left arm should've been. His messy jet black hair was blown around him. Adrenaline coursed through him, and he closed his eyes, letting himself fall, loving the feeling of the air around him. He didn't even feel himself straighten into a dive, keeping his arm out, then flip over onto his back. It was more natural than anything, but it was by far the best feeling he had ever felt in his life.
The ground came rushing up to meet him too quickly for his liking, though. Way too quickly did he fall into the haystack. But after he recovered slightly, he emerged from the haystack with a whole new demeanor.
For the first time in so long, he didn't just smile. He grinned. His onyx eyes were bright with pride.
A one-winged hawk cannot fly, they always said.
Malik grinned wider and uttered a few simple words.
"No. They can."