Hello everyone. It has been far too long, yes I am aware. However, I have been going through some personal developments and changes in my life that has taken some time to get used to. That being said, I am well aware that many of my readers are waiting for me to update my other stories. I am working on them, but due to said personal reasons, I haven't been focusing on my writing.

But this story, I have been focused on this story for YEARS! Literally, I started writing this story in either my freshman or sophomore year of high school.

So I am finally ready to publish it and I hope you do enjoy it.

This is the first chapter of my new story, The Myserty of an Assassin. (Tacky title I know).

A silent figure stood still on one of the many rooftops. To the right stood a beam that reached to a farther building and to the left stood a guard that held his sword unwaveringly at the figure. Two decisions, well three really if jumping down into the bustling street and attracting more attention could be considered one, stood for the silent body. Fight or flight. A smirk on the figure's face was completely hidden by a dark mask, hidden by the shadow of the hood of the robes. Too bad for this man, this Assassin loved to fight.

With an angered yell at the lack of response to his shouted warnings and threats, the guard came rushing forward. The figure slowly reached to its belt to pluck a small throwing knife, one of many. With a lazy flick of its hand, the person sent the throwing knife into the exposed throat of the rushing man. The figure did not look as it turned towards the beam but could hear the strangled gasps for desperate air and the splatter of blood onto the stone of the rooftop. Finally, the sound of a body hitting heavily on the floor flooded the air.

But the figure was already gone. It had disappeared from the roofs and had disappeared from the city through the gates nearby. Disappeared from the city of Jerusalem.

Another Assassin was walking through the busy streets of Masyaf. A Master knocked back down to novice. He was slowly making his way, trying desperately to not attract attention from the Assassin guards stationed throughout the city. All he wanted to do was head out to another assignment, but he had to report back to Al Mualim. He was still angered by the whole predicament. He understood what he did and regretted it.

With an annoyed sigh, he hurried up to the fortress that housed the Assassin's Creed. Altaïr could faintly make out the outline of the Master in the window of his quarters, as always. The Syrian made his through the crowds of Assassins. There were calls of greetings that he ignored and continued to the grand hallways of the fortress's castle. It was not long before Altaïr was standing in front of the Master, relaying what had occurred in Damascus while out on the assignment.

"Good work, Altaïr. We are close to defeating the Templars and you, one step closer to redeeming yourself," Al Mualim said, walking around his desk to stand next to it. Altaïr held back the biting comments that threatened to spill out.

"Yes Master," was all Altaïr said. Al Mualim looked as though he was planning to say something else, but was cut off from something, or rather someone, behind the younger Assassin.

"Ah, returned have you?" Al Mualim asked, bitingly sarcastic. Altaïr looked over his shoulder to look at the person behind him. Problem was, the figure behind him had a mask that covered his face completely, and no identity could be seen. The figure was slightly smaller and shorter than he, but there were plenty of Assassins like that. Looking at the robes of the new arrival, Altaïr could tell that the person was a very high ranking Assassin, probably a Master.

A gruff, muddled voice filtered through the mask, yet it was completely easy to understand even with the material blocking the flow of the voice. "You are lucky I returned at all," the figure said as it came to stand next to Altaïr, who stood in shock at the obvious disrespect being shown to the Master. He could see the anger flit over the old man's face but noticed that it had disappeared as soon as it had come. "I only came to give you the ending rewards of my last few kills," the person continued as he hefted a large bag onto the desk. It was visible that the bag was a lot heavier than it actually looked.

"Cairo, if you continue down this path of disobedience –" Al Mualim started.

"Save me the lecture. I do not care for what you have to say. You have none of my respect, Master," the figure, Cairo, spat out. It was obvious the contempt this man had.

"I should cut your tongue out for speaking so disrespectfully to the Master," Altaïr growled, his left hand flexing, ready to release the hidden blade on his arm.

"That is enough, Altaïr. Cairo's venom is nothing new to me," Al Mualim sighed. "But you are in the fortress, please act rationally," he finished, glaring harshly at the younger.

"Not for long. I am leaving as soon as I can; I do not desire to be in your filthy presence for much longer," Cairo hissed. The mask on his face could not disguise the hatred in his voice. With those last venomous words, Cairo turned to leave, only to be stopped by Al Mualim called him back. He did not turn, but stopped and inclined his head to show he was listening.

"Your next mission is in Acre. And you are taking Altaïr with you, as your partner¸" Al Mualim finished.

A roar of rage filled the room as Cairo spun around. "WHAT? I am not taking a whelp with me on any mission," he growled. Altaïr turned to face him and frowned deeply, a scowl setting in.

"The Master knows best," Altaïr said. "But why?" he asked Al Mualim.

"Your next target has not made an appearance quite yet, so I want you to go with Cairo to Acre to do an assignment; I need two Assassins on this one," the Master explained.

"I can do this myself, I work on my own," Cairo snarled.

"Yes Master," Altaïr bowed his head. Al Mualim wordlessly sent a carrier pigeon towards the city.

Without another word, Cairo turned and left the study, going down the stairs. Altaïr turned to follow but stopped. He knew there was another motive, and Al Mualim knew he knew this.

"I want you two to learn from each other. And Cairo needs to trust his brothers," Al Mualim sighed.

Altaïr left the fortress grounds, thinking deeply about this new Assassin that he had never even seen before. Looking around, he noticed that many people were either cowering or hiding.

"What the… Sadi!" Altaïr called to a hiding Assassin. The man looked up and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Oh, Altaïr. It is just you."

"What's going on?" Altaïr asked.

"Cairo. He passed through, obviously angry and no one survives his anger. What did the Master say that made him that way," Sadi questioned, looking in the direction that the angered man had apparently gone.

Altaïr left without answering, hurrying towards the gates. The people were slowly beginning to come from hiding, realizing that the threat had passed.

Altaïr found Cairo at the stables, angrily preparing a horse. Altaïr sighed and walked over, but before he could say anything, Cairo spoke.

"A horse for you has already been prepared. Supplies for the journey are in your saddlebags," Cairo sighed as he finished. The horse nudged the younger's chest gently and Cairo softly patted its snout in reply. "I figured that you were not a big enough idiot to not realize that I despise that you are coming with me," Cairo growled as he strapped some bags to the saddle.

"Likewise, but the Master wishes it," Altaïr replied. He was honestly surprised that a horse had been readied for him, he figured Cairo would have tried to leave without him. As he headed over, he heard an annoyed growl come from the younger male.

"What he says is shit to me," the man growled. Altaïr looked over and noticed that the other was already on his horse and heading down the road, away from Masyaf. He too climbed the animal and rode up until he was next to the other Assassin.

"Why do you defy the Master?" Altaïr asked. A wry laugh came from the Assassin next to him.

"I cannot defy someone who is not my Master. I may be under him in this Brotherhood, but I do not respect that man," Cairo replied. As they left the Masyaf lands and entered the kingdom areas, Cairo visibly relaxed. "Anyway, there are a few things you must understand. I do not like to work in groups, nor do I play nice. It is my way, though I do follow the tenants of the Creed. Do not get in my way and do not become an annoyance to me, and we will not have a problem," Cairo concluded. He had slowed down his horse so that the journey seemed more leisurely.

"But the rules of the Creed-" Altaïr began,

"Rules? What do you know of rules, Altaïr Ibn-La'ahad? I may have been gone for quite some time, but word travels fast," Cairo laughed out, cutting him off. Altaïr felt blood rise up into his face and growled. "Ah, I am only teasing you. I found it idiotic that you were knocked down to novice for breaking rules that are meant to be bent and broken. The Templars were planning on laying siege on Masyaf, it would have occurred if your actions were different anyway," Cairo said softly.

Altaïr bowed his head and stayed silent. The two rode in that silence for a couple hours.

Suddenly, Cairo pulled his horse to a stop. Altaïr, noticing this, also stopped and noticed that they were near a nice grassy area with a small, clear lake.

"We will stop here and rest. The sun is going down now," Cairo said as he climbed off the horse. He led the beast to the water, flicking the foam from the horse's mouth that had gathered during the ride. He left the animal to drink and grabbed the reigns of Altaïr's horse after the larger male got off and did the same thing with the animal as he did his own ride.

Altaïr watched him closely as the younger unloaded the bags and set up a small campsite. Within minutes, a fire was going since the temperature was dropping as the sun did.

"Come and rest, Altaïr," Cairo said as he sorted through the bags. He brought out some food and two jugs of water.

Altaïr sat down and took the food and water that was offered to him. Cairo lifted his mask just enough to take a small drink of water and replaced it immediately. Altaïr wasn't even able to see a small glimpse of his face.

"Why do you wear that mask?" Altaïr asked.

"So I have an unrecognizable face," was all that Cairo replied with. "If no one knows my face, then it means I cannot be found," Cairo explained. Altaïr could hear the grin in his voice.

Altaïr raised an unseen eyebrow at this and couldn't help but wonder what the other's face looked like. Was it marred with scars or was it perfectly unharmed? Altaïr resolved to himself that he would sneak a look at his companion's face when he fell asleep.

He never did get the chance to when he finished what could be considered his dinner, his eyes started to droop and it was getting difficult to keep them open. Within moments, Altaïr had fallen asleep, the cowl of his robes drooping over his eyes.

On the other side of the fire, shadows played on the dark material of the mask as the still aware Assassin smiled. The Assassin watched as Altaïr fell victim to the sleeping drought that tainted both the food and water he was given.

A small, calloused hand, free of its glove, came up to the edge of the chin of the mask and lifted it slowly. The firelight reflected on the intelligent eyes that were revealed when the mask was removed. The smile turned into a wicked smirk.

"This… Is going to be interesting."

IT GETS BETTER I PROMISE YOU IT GETS BETTER

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I'll see you next time!

This is OneHellOfANekoDemon85 signing off for now!