Once again, a story that came up from my lil writing prompt idea (see AN in "unexpected" to find out what it is).
I erased this story twice before settling on this. I'm still not happy with it, but idk I might write another oneshot with "washable" later. Who knows lol
dis: me no own
Note: takes place a lil after AC1
Washable: adj. capable of being washed without injury
Altaїr slid down the rock wall behind him. His rain soaked clothes caught on each roughened edge, but he didn't notice. The overhang above him provided enough shelter from the downpour for him and his gelding, but the only one to greet such a relief was the horse. No, Altaїr's mind was lost as he stared at the four slain knights not far from him. He watched as the rain caught their blood and mixed it into a stream. He watched as it flowed down the path and pooled into a small red pond. The water jumped at each raindrop as if a numerous hearts were hidden in the red elixir.
But that wasn't what had disturbed him. No, he was used to such a sight. Had seen it all his life. What had shocked him was the realization that he felt nothing. They were dead, by his hand, and he felt nothing at all. No remorse, no fear, no sadistic pride, no shock, no nothing.
Altaїr closed his eyes and leaned back. An assassin wasn't supposed to feel anything. That is what he knew. It was normal to be emotionless. But something nagged at the back of his mind and told him that this nothing wasn't normal. That if he wasn't careful, things will turn worse. That he was slowly losing his humanity.
But why now? Why was it affecting him now after all these years? Was it al Mualim's betrayal? Or had the stress of being temporary master until the new one arrived gotten to him?
He looked back down at the blood pool.
The past wasn't washable. His deeds couldn't be swept away like the rain cleansing the earth. No, he could only learn from it and move on.
Altaїr stood and quickly mounted his horse. He guided it past the bodies without a second glance and turned towards Masyaf with one thought in mind: that he needed something to anchor his humanity or he would truly lose it as well.