Disclaimer: I don't own Assassin's Creed or the music from Prince of Egypt.
A/N: So, the other Saturday, it was the first marching band competition of the season and we got over all 4 stars out of five, in second places. Fuck yes. Bus ride home, I'm chillin' with my Kadar-bro and I just start singing the lullaby from Prince of Egypt and Kadar is just like 'AUUUGGGH I DIED, THIS SONG MAKES ME THINK OF MY DEATH.' And me (as Malik) popping in as 'FUCK YOU ALTAIR YOU SON OF A BETCH KILLIN' MY BRO INDIRECTLY LET ME GO CRY IN A CORNER WITH ONE HAND OVER MY FACE SINCE THE OTHER ONE IS KIND OF GONE. ALSO YOUR FAULT.'
Thus, this.
For Kadar
Whispers
Had it been anyone other than my brother, I would have been less upset. Had it been Altair, I'd mourn, but never mourn like this. This was my brother, my only true family left. My flesh in blood, sibling. My brother. Had Altair not gone and done his stupid stunt, I'd not be here. Here on this small boat by myself with a rapped up body next to me.
Had it not been that moment, I'd be with my brother. We'd be curled up like we once were, chuckling and giggling at how Kadar still has a slight buck-tooth whenever he grins. Nothing like when he was a child, and all you saw were his buckteeth surrounded by his plump little face.
I felt myself smile down at the wrapped body, trying to remember every feature of my brother before he was killed. It brought tears to my eyes, biting my lower lip, trying to hide my face with my hands. But soon enough was reminded that that was impossible. I stared at the bandaged stump. It will always be a reminder of what happened that day, of what was said.
How I wished for our younger days, the nostalgic feeling of being eleven. Kadar was five, and Mom had just died, lost in the desert and Dad on the run.
"Will Mom be back?" Kadar asked, lifting his head up his golden-green eyes shimmering up at me. "They said she got lost in the desert, which means if she follows the north star, then she can find her way home, right?"
I wish I could tell him everything, make him less naïve. But that was impossible.
When it came nighttime, Kadar was curled up by my side, not able to sleep, singing softly the lullaby that Mother would sing to us before going to bed.
"Hush now, my baby,
be still love don't cry.
Sleep like you're rocked by the stream.
Sleep and remember my lullaby,
So I'll be with you
When you dream…"
That lullaby was the only thing that kept me going when I was just a novice in the creed, my brother being able to start early and watch us. I'd come home, cover in bruises and scratches from the days training, sometimes a broken bone or two, and Kadar would fix me up with Altair scowling in the background. And as Kadar fixed me, he'd quietly whisper that same lullaby to me, always. Before bed, if I was sick, if I needed patchwork, if I was missing Mom.
He'd sing.
Always.
Kadar was so young then, young still. I had already stopped the boat, taking the small raft of straw I had with Kadar's body on it and pushed it off, watching it float. I quickly put a flame to the top of straw, pushing the now burning raft away.
My brother, my Kadar. Did it have to be now? I felt the tears now pouring down my cheeks, I was still holding back. The fire raged before me, sending heat to my face.
I took a deep breath, biting my lower lip,
"Hush now, my baby,
be still love d-don't cry…
Sleep as you're rocked by the stream.
Sleep and remember my l-l... last lullaby,
So I'll b-be with you when you
d-dream…"