The old man rocked on the rocking chair; back, forth, back, forth... The sound creaked into his ear drums, tapping against his rickety bones, taunting him... He still wore the white and red attire; the hood had fallen from his head, revealing the gray hair that was once a sienna-brown color. His brown eyes were empty and lifeless, filled with the distant ring of pain that sang against his heart and soul. Playing back were the nightmares of what had haunted from the day of the lost from ever forward. It was like a cold blade tracing the veins of his body, so close to the kill, but teasing for the savoring.
In his dreams, she had cried that for him to save her; make everything better.
The Apple of Eden sat like a stone in his hand; his worst enemy, and the death of him. Imaginary prison bars surrounded him, preventing any life to enter and save him. But no one should save him. No one could...
'Strength, Altair,'
The apple fell from his hand, clattering to the ground with a silent thump.
He had liked her form the moment he had been given the relishment of meeting her. His intelligence hadn't caught onto the odd, and growing emotion that was inside him, until his heart had been screaming it into the very embankments in his thoughts. But somehow...he knew that girl would be the reason he ever had a feeling in him, that would ignite something he thought but a myth he could ever experience.
Maria Thorpe.
'I'm what they call the unusual one in my family. Growing up, I always preferred the boys' games. Dolls weren't for me, much to my parents' continued exasperation. I used to pull their heads off,' She would state, speaking of her youthful girl years.
He had found her words amusing, as if in a way, that was how he had wanted the girl he married to be like. Not a luxurious and pompous wench; but a warrioress to the core. That was exactly who she was.
They had fought, like enemies should have. She was a Templar; he was an Assassin. Yet, they always had an understanding, even then when they were out for the slitting of the other's throat. He had never expected a woman when he was in attempt to assassinate Sable, although he had known it had been him. But a woman...
'We knew you'd come. Robert needed to be sure he'd have time to get away.'
They had undergone many things with each other; it was like God had forcefully used his hand to guide them together. Their paths had crossed so many times it was entirely ridiculous. And he found himself, in all their facades and events with each other; trying to kill; saving; defending; he was growing concerned for what might become of her.
She had nearly gotten herself killed on more than one occasion, and it wasn't long he found what he was feeling for her...
Love.
After two years of their experiences together, he had married her. Feeling slithered into his soul; it was uncomfortable, but satisfying, and it overwhelmed him. His heart burst with the warm emotion that overswept his entire being. He loved her more than anything.
They had two sons; Darim and Sef.
He loved them, very much, but Maria was...his heart. The feisty, boisterous, and passionate girl was his very core. The love of his life.
Many years together. Leaving Masyaf. Then Sef getting executed...
Anger. Hatred.
She had been there, guiding him and loving him even when he had about let go and allowed his fury control him. She was in pain too, but she still found enough strength to be there for him.
'I have to destroy Abbas,'
'But not for the purposes of vengeance, my love. For the Order. For the good of the Brotherhood. To take it back and make it great once more. If you can do that, and if you can let it take precedence over your own thoughts of revenge, the Order will love you as a father who shows it the true path. If you let yourself be blinded by anger and emotion, how can you expect them to listen when what you teach is the other way?'
They were older then; and she was the wiser of them.
They went to face Abbas. He promised never to use the apple out of anger.
He had promised.
They had come to find out why Sef had been executed; she had been strong even in that moment. Facing off with Abbas with courage that could only be praised.
Then that...damn man had to say those words. That he had told Sef he had ordered his won sons' execution.
He had lost control. Used the apple. He broke his promise.
He heard Maria's screams for him to stop, but he didn't.
She had rushed over; shook his shoulders.
Then, his world was destroyed in a matter of moments. Torn apart. Watching the knife enter her back...
Everything stopped, crashed, before his eyes. He managed to kill the man, catch Maria...
She was so cold, and she...she hadn't known she was going to die. How could she? He loved her.
He loved her so much it killed him.
He had wanted the kiss he pressed against her lips to make everything better...she hadn't been ready ago. She hadn't. He needed her.
'Strength, Altair,' She had whispered; her sweet voice a melody through the agony. He saw the love she felt; that light; still in her eyes even when the soul left her being.
He had set her down, gently, and ran.
Many things had happened after that, but they were fuzzy.
All that he remembered was losing his love. His life. His heart. His Maria.
All he had now was a memory to hold onto; the memory of his Maria, his love.
He reached over, grasped apple in his fingers, and rested back in the chair. He then lied his arm on the arm of the chair, leaning his head against the back of the chair.
He cried.
"Stay with me until I fall asleep, my love..." He whispered, a darkness overtaking his mind.
Darkness. Death.
Then light.
He smiled.