A/N: I decided to write this two-shot based on the facts that:
1. I really love Assassin's Creed, have played almost every game so far, but fell in love with Altair's and Ezio's stories the most.
2. Hate the fact they killed these characters and decided that screw it I need to fix things. And so this idea was born.
I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it.
"Our life is made by the deaths of others." -Leonardo Da Vinci
Present, c. ?
The room she was in was dark. The only light source being the glowing, golden sphere she held in her hand. She was alone amongst a sea of blood and dead bodies, allies and foes alike. It had taken a long time to retrieve the Piece of Eden, too many were lost in the fight against the Templars. But in the end, they had won. Now all that was left was for her to complete her final mission.
Her brows furrowed in concentration as the light increased in its intensity, and with a flash of golden light, she was gone.
Masyaf, c. 1228
A lone white hooded figure sat on a bench. He had just recently returned from a long journey, a mission he as Grandmaster had to attend to himself. It had taken longer than he had anticipated, but he and his beloved had finally returned to Masyaf. He heard the sound of soft feet on grass, but he refused to look up.
"The Templars have retaken their archive on Cyprus. Abbas sent no reinforcements. It was a massacre."
"Oh my God…" Maria dropped to her knees in front of him, her face level with his. He took a second to look. She had aged well, he couldn't help but think. The last ten years have been kind to her. Her face was lined in crow's feet and laugh lines, and her brown hair was peppered with white. She had come a long way from her Templar days. It would destroy him if he were to lose her in any way. She had been his constant companion in Mongolia along with their son and he had feared for her safety the entire time.
"Maria, when we left Masyaf ten years ago, this Order was strong. But all of our progress has been undone."
Malik, Altair's oldest and most trusted friend, had been left in charge in Altair's stead. He had trusted the man to run the order smoothly and still be whole upon his return. It was not so, for when they arrived they had learned that not only had Malik been imprisoned, but was also killed for the charge of being a traitor by none other than Abbas. And as a final nail in the coffin, Sef, his youngest son who reminded him so much of the late Kadar Al-Sayf, was murdered for the same reason.
"Abbas must answer for this." Her eyes were a storm of emotions, concealed only by years of practice. She had always been the calmer and reasonable of the two of them, since Altair was still quick to anger, even after many years of humility.
"Answer to whom? The Assassins obey only his command now." He angrily stood from his perch on the bench. He felt the need for justice rising within him, his blade ready to spill blood.
"Resist your desire for revenge Altair. Speak truth and they will see their error." She said calmly. But her sweet tone could not dampen his fury.
"He executed our youngest son, Maria! He deserves to die!" He would weep if he could. He was in agony over how his daughter-in-law and granddaughters must be feeling. And not only that but they were late. It has already been 2 years since Sef and Malik's deaths. How was Tazim holding up, he wondered, working under the man that had killed his father?
"Perhaps. But if you cannot win back the Order by honorable means, its foundation will crumble." Maria calmly stated. Always the voice of reason.
He bowed his head and nodded, "You are right," his head rose and gazed into the eyes he had fallen for a long time ago. "Thirty years ago I let passion overtake my reason. And it caused a rift that has never fully healed."
She smiled at him, her face losing ten years in the simple act, grabbed his arm around hers and began their trek into Masyaf.
A short time later as they reached the gardens behind the castle, Altair couldn't help but feel the somber mood that hung over it like a cloak. There was the feel of apprehension and unease. The tension was palpable. Something was going to happen during this meeting.
"We may be walking into our doom, Maria." He calmly stated. He could feel her arm tighten around his in response.
"We may. But we walk together."
As they continued deeper into the Garden, Altair could see Abbas surrounded by other assassins. He noticed that barely any of them were journeymen. Most wore the grey sleeves of novices. How many of them were untrained?
Maria let go and continued walking next to him at his side with her head held high.
The other Assassins moved to meet them but Abbas raised his arm, holding them in place.
"Let them speak."
Altair stepped forward. "We seek the truth about our son's death. Why was Sef killed?"
"Is it truth you want, or an excuse for revenge?" Altair could hear the condescending tone in Abbas' voice.
"If the truth gives us an excuse, we will act on it." Maria answered back. Truth or no truth, the angry parents were not leaving without avenging their son's death.
"Surrender the Apple, Altair, and I will tell you why your son was put to death."
"Ah, and the truth is out already!" Altair yelled, loud enough for the other assassins to hear. "Abbas wants the Apple for himself. Not to open your mind, but to control them!"
"You have held that artifact for thirty years, Altair, reveling in its power and hoarding its secrets. It has corrupted you."
Altair nodded. "Very well, Abbas take it."
"What?" Maria gasped in shock.
Abbas motioned to an assassin next to him, Swami, Altair believed his name to be, to take the apple in Altair's outstretched hand. Before he did though he began to speak.
"Before I executed your son, I told him you ordered it yourself." Altair felt horror wash over him in a sudden chill as the man continued to speak. "He died believing you had betrayed him."
And with no thought, Altair raised the apple, his mind and heart only focused on revenge for his son, and forced the Assassin's knife to his own throat.
He would pay, they would all pay. It felt like Solomon's temple all over again, when his actions had led to Kadar's death. The despair was eating at him and he knew he was slowly losing control over the Apple. It was reaching, tugging at his mind, trying to make him let go, to avenge his son.
"Altair! Altair, no!" Maria was tugging at his arm, trying to make him let go. He was so close….
Another burst of light radiated from the Apple blinding everyone and pulsating its light, sending everyone around it away with a push.
Altair made out something in the light, a figure covered in the Apple's glow. He switched to his other vision, and the person was a bright blue, standing against a sea of red. It was a woman he deduced, she stood in front of him and Maria protectively, dressed in white assassin robes, a master assassin from the style of said robes. She turned her head to them, as if to make sure they were safe, and both he and Maria silently gasped at the familiar amber eyes that burned bright underneath her white hood.
And in the next second she had moved. Without a thought, she jumped Swami, and showed her hidden blade in his throat.
Silence.
"Is jidd alright?" Her voice broke through. She turned again and faced them. She was small, smaller than Maria and he could see a wisp of black hair escape from her hood. And her face…. Altair could not help but stare. There, sitting upon the small woman's face was Maria. Her nose and her lips. The furrow in her brow when she was upset. All of it was Maria.
"Is jidd alright?" she repeated. Altair broke out of his trance. She was staring at Maria, her stare trained upon her looking for anything wrong with the woman.
Grandmother? The only granddaughters Altair and Maria had were younger than ten, nowhere near the age of the unknown woman.
"Who are you?!" The shout and question both come from Abbas and Altair. The former was enraged, his hand already on his sword.
"You need not know my name, Abbas Sofian." Her glare drove daggers into the weak man, her left arm lifting and pointed it in his direction, another Apple glowing softly in her hand. "You are undeserving of such knowledge. For today, you die."
Quickly she pulled a switch on her bracer and there was a loud bang. They all stood and watched as Abbas stared in shock and looked down to his bleeding chest, with another gasp he fell over. She walked over and kneeled next to the body.
"Why would you protect that liar? He has told lies about my family, about my father's death. The humiliation I have suffered."
"When I was young I was told the story of my great grandfather. He was an Assassin much like yourself, a prideful, arrogant man. A man who thought himself above the Creed. He made many mistakes, but he came out of them a better man. He even apologized to the man whose life he had ruined. That is the man I now protect. Now I ask you, would you do the same?" the woman asked gently. The story seemed familiar to Altair but he could not place it.
"I hope there is a life after this one. Then I will see my father, and know the truth of his final days….."
His eyes dimmed and his head hung to the side, "Arqad fi salam," she muttered quietly and closed his eyes. She stood and faced the small group of Assassins.
"Brothers! Stand down! There need be no more bloodshed. Abbas has turned this Order into a husk of its former self. Align yourself with our former mentor and bring back our Order to its former glory and you shall be spared. Resist and you shall be taken down." The woman said, her sword at her side and Apple in the other.
She looked around to those Abbas had brought with him. With side glances to each other, the assassins crossed their arms over their chests and kneeled. Altair and Maria walked forward to the young woman.
"Who are you? If you did not answer Abbas perhaps you will answer us." Altair questioned.
She bowed her head and crossed her arm over her chest. "My name is Aquila Anawi, mentor."
"Aquila. A peculiar name."
"I was named after my great grandfather." Her eyes lingered on Altair as she said this.
"Why do you have an Apple and why did you call Maria 'grandmother'?"
"The Apple is what brought me here. I acquired it after a siege on a Templar hideout." She said as she lifted her head and pushed back her hood. Her face broke into serene smile, they could see her hair now, braided a stunning ebony, much like Altair's had been when he was young. "And I call her such because she is. Well, many times great grandmother, but grandmother all the same."
"What do you mean?" it was Maria this time, her brush with certain death already out of her mind.
"I come from the future. About 800 years give or take. I am your descendant. The Apple sent me here to fulfill my mission: to prevent your death. Grandmother, your death would have brought forth a chain of events, starting with grandfather escaping Masyaf with Darim and Sef's family and living in exile for the next thirty years." She said.
They were shocked. "That's impossible! How can we know you are telling the truth? Altair asked, it seemed almost preposterous to him but the girl looked so much like Maria. And her story. He concluded that her story had to have been talking about him.
"What would I gain from lying to you? Nothing. I want nothing. The chance I get to meet you and speak to you is reward enough." She smiled again, Maria's smile. But it quickly faded. Suddenly she started glowing in that strange light again.
Quickly, she jumped forward and gathered both of them in her arms in a hug. And they returned it. They decided that they believed the young woman, foregoing many years of training against the fact.
"I have wanted to meet you for so long now, but knowing you were long gone, long dead, brought an ache to my heart. I have been told many tales of my ancestor, the great Altair Ibn-La'Ahad, and thought that being named after you I had a lot to live up to," at that Maria laughed and Altair couldn't help the small smirk that crossed his face. Aquila giggled.
"But my father, who coincidentally was also named Altair (we were named after you get over it grandfather), had enough and sat me down and told me the real story. The story that before you were high above the clouds, you first had to fall.
"He also told me the story of a woman named Maria Thorpe," at this Maria let go of the small woman and stared into those familiar amber eyes. They were filling with tears.
"A strong woman who at first had been a Templar, but fell in love with an Assassin. And whose death would tear apart this Assassin and everything he knew. I knew after that story that I had to save you, no matter the consequences."
"I'm sorry, I wish I could stay and talk more, but I don't have much time. My mission is not yet finished. There are others I have to save, more family who have had their lives wrongfully taken away. It was an honor to meet you, both of you. And grandfather?" Altair let go and watched as her face went from carefree to serious.
And with that change in face, Altair knew without a doubt that she was telling the truth. For he had seen that same exact gaze reflected in his own many, many times. Altair couldn't help but smile at the thought. This woman who spontaneously appeared out of nowhere, spouted an unbelievable, crazy story and he finally decided to believe her not by her words but on her appearance alone. He must be getting old.
"Yes?"
"The apple may give you infinite knowledge, but please, remember your family or you will end up regretting it."
He nodded. "I will. I will not lose the gift you have so graciously and selflessly given me. Thank you."
"You better be," she whispered. She smiled again, tears gathering in her eyes. Once again, she brought her arm over chest in salute, but instead of bowing her head in respect, she met their gazes with admiration.
"Safety and Peace, mentor."
"And to you as well, Aquila Anawi. May you have luck in saving your family."
She smiled and with another flash she was gone.
jidd- (Arabic) grandfather/grandmother
Arqad fi salam- (Arabic) Rest in Peace
Aquila- (Latin) eagle
