"Malik, why won't you race me?" a young and restless Altaïr called out from the courtyard.

"Because I know you'll beat me. There's no point in participating if you know you'll lose." He called back. A firm hand gripped his shoulder as a shadow cast over his at the same time.

"You don't always know the outcome of every situation, novice." The shadow spoke, in a low voice. "Go."

"Yes, master." He said with defeat, walking over. Kadar followed with excitement, eager to see who would win. He was a bit too much at times, but that was his brother.

"Kadar, go wait at the well in the village for us." Altaïr said, grinning at Malik as the other boy ran off.

"So we're going there?"

"No. We're racing around it and back here."

"Why make him wait there, then?" Malik asked, confused.

"He can follow us back." came a reply, both of the boys readying themselves in stance as one of the young men waited to start them on their race while waiting for further sword training.

As soon as the young man had reached zero, Altaïr and Malik began sprinting off, a silent agreement having been made that whomever was in the lead decided the path to the well, and back. Early on Altaïr took the lead. Climbing was something that he still struggled with, but what he lacked in climbing, he made up for with running and leaping. Malik nearly caught Altair on the wall, but a misjudged place of his hand sent his scrambling for something to grab on to. He hauled himself over the ledge and began running on the rooftops again.

Malik watched with some amazement at how confident Altaïr was when leaping across large gaps so high up. A sudden drop down to the ground was where Malik caught up again. He took a slight lead when they reached the well, Kadar excited, and then confused when both turned around and headed back.

"Hey! Wait up!" Kadar yelled, running after them.

Up the hill proved to be a challenge that Malik was almost grateful for. Altaïr fell behind, but not too far. Malik went to the rooftops again, accelerating to the point where he could have slowed to catch his breath for a moment before Altaïr would be close enough to pose a threat. But they both knew once someone slowed down, it was harder to gain the momentum back. So Malik pressed on, his heart racing and his breath becoming more shallow with each leap he took across the homes of the villagers.

He suddenly tumbled off the roof and he knew that was the end of it.

When he got back up Altaïr was thudding down and pushing off at the same time, sprinting ahead of him towards the final set of hills that was towards the castle. Malik thought himself lucky to see him running through the castle gate, triumphant. He slowed down once he was inside them as well, lying on his back to catch his breath and to wait for his younger brother, who was somewhere in the village. Once his brother was back, the three met up again.

"Wasn't that fun, Malik?"

"I suppose it was." He shrugged, just slightly bitter due to the loss. But Malik knew that there were other things that he could beat Altaïr at, such as knife throwing, sneaking around, and most importantly being a good role model for his brother.

Every one in a while, as all three grew up, the two would race each other. Eventually Kadar joined in, though it was always a close finish between Altaïr and Malik. There were occasions that Malik won. Typically it was Altaïr. He didn't mind so much as he did when he was younger. There were also days when Malik ran on his own, wanting to explore, or just looking for a new way to beat Altaïr. This day, he was exploring the village, taking his time to find ways around. He was wanting to explore a small cave on the edge of the village that was on a cliff.

There was a small garden that was fenced off by a family that Malik sometimes decided to sneak into just to admire the view of the castle and the valley from the tree. The cave was below him. Taking a break, he was careful not to make a sound, glad that it was spring and the leaves were full so he could sit quietly. He was there for a long time, but when he felt something hit his foot he glanced down and saw a little girl, who was preparing to throw another pebble at him. He got down quickly, standing on the other side of the fence when he hit the ground.

"What were you doing in my tree?" She asked angrily. Malik smiled at her. She couldn't have been more than seven years old. He loved talking to the children.

"This is a very nice tree to sit in and watch the valley. Did you know that?" He said. She shook her head, dropping the pebble and walking closer.

"Why are you dressed like that?" She asked, pointing to his robes.

"I live in the castle with the other assassins." He replied.

"Is it warm in there? My mommy says it gets cold sometimes."

"It's very warm. We have lots of fires to keep us warm when it's cold outside."

"That's good." She replied with a smile. Then suddenly, "Do you want to play a game?"

"What kind of game would you like to play?"

"My friends and I like to play hide and seek." She beamed.

"I see. I'm afraid I'm very good at that game." Malik chuckled, letting her lead the way. On their way to the well, they saw Altaïr. He was apparently on his way to meet someone.

"Brother, what are you doing?" Altaïr asked of Malik when he was seen holding the little girl's hand.

"We were going to play hide and seek." Malik smiled, "Would you like to join us?"

"I suppose I have time." Altaïr said, after the girl began pleading.

"I'll count off first." She said, as the two young men looked at each other, picking some rather horrible spots to hide, were experienced eyes watching them. Some of the women saw what they were doing and smiled. Once the girl got to twenty, she turned around, looking for the two men. She found Altaïr first, squealing when she did, and then pulling him around looking for Malik. Altaïr helped her after a few minutes, holding her up to look behind some barrels.

For the rest of the afternoon, Malik and Altaïr played with the girl. Malik walked her back home, and then turned to walk back to the castle, seeing as Altaïr had plans of his own. A young woman was watching him, and decided to approach him.

"Do you know that little girl?" Malik heard from behind him, turning sharply to see who it was. He was surprised to meet a pair of hazel eyes that he'd never seen before.

"I only met her today while I was sitting in her tree." He replied.

"That was very nice of you to play with her. She doesn't play with many of the other children."

"She seems to think differently."

"That may be. Still, it's... Very refreshing to see a young man like yourself taking the time to play with a little girl. I was on my way to play with her, but then I saw you and your friend. So I watched."

"What's your name?" Malik asked suddenly.

"My name is Iman. Are you not Malik?" She asked, stepping closer.

"I am. How do you know my name?"

"Altaïr is a mutual friend, I guess you could say." She smiled. Malik only now noticed the small scar on her chin.

"That sounds like an interesting story." He replied to her.

"Do you have the time to listen to it?"

There was a silence as Malik looked back towards the castle, the sun slowly being pushed down to the other side of the mountains. He wanted to go. But he was also very intrigued by Iman.

"I have the time." He finally said, walking her over to sit on a bench where it was quiet. Iman had met Altaïr when he took his first few trips to Damascus. She was on the streets often, asking for just about everything to get by. She was pretty, he knew that, and she did as well. He knew that when her face turned bright pink, mentioning the first time she saw Altaïr that there was something that she wasn't readily sharing. He held his tongue, though, letting her finish.

"I'm ashamed to say that I'm jealous of the woman he's seeing. Altaïr is a wonderful man and so intelligent." Iman said very quietly, avoiding looking Malik in the eye. He then found himself reciting something he was once told.

"You don't always know the outcome of every situation."

"That is true, isn't it?" She said, smiling again and looking up to him.

"It has been so long as I've known Altaïr." He returned the smile to her.

"Anyway, when I first saw him, I knew he was looking for some place to hide. I grabbed his arm when he ran past, and he nearly hit me until I started pulling him off the street and into a church. I kept him there until it was dusk and then I let him go. Only he stayed and began talking to me."

"I didn't know he liked to talk so much." Malik muttered to himself.

"He said he usually doesn't unless someone has caught his attention." She said, thinking he had meant to say that to her.

"And why do you think you caught his attention?" He asked. She shrugged, yet he could come up with several reasons.

"Hmph. That's an interesting story, Iman."

"Not nearly as interesting as the few I've heard of you."

"What stories have you heard of me?"

"Plenty." She giggled.

Malik asked for one of the stories but Iman continued to refuse until it was dark. Altaïr walked past, not noticing that the two were sitting there chatting, but Malik became self-conscious of being seen with Iman. Assassin's weren't supposed to have fun while they were home. They were supposed to train, and reflect on other matters, and protect the village. Malik wasn't being a very good assassin at the moment.

He stood slowly, Iman doing the same. They looked each other in the eyes in silence. He raised his rough hand and placed it in her smooth skinned hand. He smiled, raising her hand to his lips, kissing the back of it, and then lowering it.

"I'm afraid I need to leave. If I get the chance, I'll meet you back here around noon. I want to hear more from you." He said, his voice surprisingly calm and quiet compared to how he was feeling.

"I won't wait the whole day." She said in response, her eyes dropping suddenly, and her head turning away. He knew she was grinning, and he took the opportunity to slip away.

Once he reached the hills to the castle, Malik saw that Altaïr was waiting for him, leaning against a tree, a rather smug look on his face. He pretended not to see him.

"Malik..." Altaïr called out, walking towards him. He stopped and turned.

"What is it?"

"How is Iman?"

"She is well."

"Is that all?"

"As far as I know, yes." He said. Altaïr grinned. "Stop that. You look ridiculous."

"Only because you know what I'm thinking is true, Malik."

"And what are you thinking? How dumb you look with that smile? Yes, that is true."

"I know how well you two get along. I saw how you looked at her before you left."

"Then you also know she has feelings for you?" Malik countered. Altaïr met this with some silence, sighing heavily.

"I know she does, but I simply do not feel the same way. She is useful in gathering information where I need it. But I'm afraid that's all she'll be to me."

"Do her a favor then; stop using her in that manner. It only makes her feel worse and she does not deserve that."

"I will try, Malik." Altaïr said with his head hanging slightly lower than it had been. "Although, I've always imagined her with you. She seems like a good balance to you. Or she will be."

"Why do you say that?"

"She has a good heart, and is more understanding and open than others. I believe you will need that soon in your life, for whatever reason. I can't say why I believe that, but I do."

"I appreciate that, Altaïr." Malik replied. The two headed up the hills to the castle gate, going to their rooms to sleep.

In the next few days, Malik was unable to meet with Iman. He was being assigned to work with some of the novices. Altaïr was off on a small mission. Then in the next few weeks, the two of them, and Kadar, were sent to Jerusalem to retrieve an item. Altaïr had changed, become very confident of himself. Kadar's death was nearly too much for Malik to handle, but he managed to do the job that was assigned, the feeling in his left arm nearly gone in the time that it took to travel back to Masyaf.

When he finally saw Iman again, he wasn't the same as he'd been before. He no longer had his left arm. The last of his family was gone. His spirit had been broken. All this was added onto the fact that his childhood friend had betrayed him, leaving him to die. But he came above it somehow and was alive.

"Malik! What happened?!" Iman gasped upon seeing him.

"Altaïr is what happened." He spat. "He left my brother and I in the temple to die. I was lucky I made it out, but my brother..." He turned his gaze to the ground, letting a few tears fall down his face in anger and sorrow.

"Don't think like that. There is a reason for everything." Iman said, sitting down and gently pulling him down to sit beside her.

"How can you say that? Has he not hurt you, too?"

"He has, but I'm sure that both times it was not his goal to hurt us." Iman said sternly. "Altaïr has good intentions. He has poorly executed those intentions, is all. He will learn."

"You are still blind to what he's done."

"I am not blind, you are. I know how you feel but you need to see the better way out."

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"Malik. The other day, when the templars came, they were not merciful to the children. That little girl died." She paused. "I watched. She climbed up into the tree. Some of the men ordered her down and she refused. I don't know why but she stayed in that tree until they shook her out." Iman paused, brushing her hair back before continuing. "When they did get her out of the tree, she fell on the other side of the fence, and got a little too close to the cliff. And I can't recall hearing a splash from the water."

Malik suddenly stood up, walking towards the direction of that tree. Iman followed, curious as to what he was doing. He paused when the girl's mother and father were standing by the tree, taking another route down. He'd discovered the path down on one of the adventures he took so long ago. It was hidden behind a bush, and he could walk most of the way.

"Where are you going?" Iman asked, staying put by the bush.

"She could have survived." He said, knowing well that there was a ledge not too far down from the tree. He walked briskly and even jogged a bit when he got closer to the ledge. Iman was wrong, though.

She was face down, unmoving, and there were several dozen flies and other bugs all on her body. He black hair was strewn in all directions, but when he picked her up off the ground, she gripped to him weakly, struggling to breathe. He walked carefully back up, holding her in his one arm, although she was incredibly light. Iman was speechless when he came back up, following him now. He took her straight to her parents, her mother bawling and thanking him over and over again while her father took her inside, lying her down and then rushing to find a doctor.

"Malik, why did you do that?" Iman questioned, letting him rest at the tree.

"I knew there was a chance she could have made it, and I wasn't going to take a risk in not knowing what would happen like Altaïr did. I'm not ever going to make the mistakes he did." He answered, still angry.

"I'd rather you think of what he did as a mistake than a purposeful action. And you are right to have that goal for yourself." She then said, sitting beside him and letting her head rest on his left shoulder. His cheek touched the top of her head and they sat in silence for the rest of the afternoon underneath the tree that was now losing it's leaves with every gentle brush of wind.

Seeing as Iman had no place to live, she traveled with Malik to Jerusalem, where he would take his new role as rafiq. She spent time with him every day, helping him adjust to having one arm, and for the most part she kept him going when it got tough. The day she didn't come was the day Altaïr first returned as a novice, much to Malik's delight. He could only laugh when Altaïr demanded information from him, and was turned down.

That night Malik didn't sleep well, but he heard a soft knock on the door nearby early in the morning. He got up quickly to see who it was. Iman threw her arms around him, soaking wet and shivering. It hadn't rained that night...

"They threw me down into a well." She said as she shivered, looking at him much differently than se had the other day. "They didn't want me on the streets anymore. A man helped me out and I came here right away."

"Come in, then." He said, quickly pulling her in and leading her to a room where she could take off her clothes and put on some dry ones until hers were dry, at least. He left the room to allow her some privacy, and went to go get everything ready for the day, since there was no point in going back to sleep for an hour. Of course, this is when Altaïr decided to show up for his second day. He came through the roof, and landed with a softer thud than what one might think for his size. But he had mastered his techniques by now.

"Malik. You are awake."

"Unfortunately, I am. What is it that you need?" He said, not being discreet about the fact he hadn't slept at all.

"I have more information on my target I wish to share with you." He said, with a tone that suggested he was only repeating what he had to in order to keep going. Malik could only sigh at this.

"Then go on." Malik said, only half listening. Once Altaïr was done speaking, he continued. "You do not have enough information. Go see if the citizens have any more to say that you can learn today."

"I will wait here until midday." Altaïr said, turning to go rest, pausing once Iman came out, dressed in clothes that had once belonged to Malik. His gaze turned to Malik, and he smirked a bit before walking out. Malik could only grimace, and put his head in his hand.

"Is something wrong?" Iman asked, walking over to him.

"Altaïr seems to be thinking that something happened between us." He said quietly, not looking at her. "I don't like it."

"Why?"

"Because it's not true."

"And what if it were?" She asked him with a quiet voice, leaning a bit closer to him. He couldn't respond to that right away, but he knew what he wanted to say.

"I..."

I wish it were true. That's what he wanted to say. But he couldn't bring himself to admit that aloud. Especially not with Altaïr around to hear it. Iman deserved better than him, surely. He was broken and bitter, not to mention one of the most boring people he knew. When he was younger he did things with everyone else. Now, he preferred to stay inside with his books and maps, the things he knew best and that didn't require much effort.

Malik glanced over to Iman. She was still waiting.

"I don't know." He said with defeat, knowing that was a horrible answer for her. She nodded, but stayed put, looking down at his work.

"That's a very detailed map you have there." She said, changing the subject.

"Thank you. I like knowing where I am at all times. And with there being no decent maps to buy, I decided to make my own. I hope it will be useful some day." Malik said, his confidence coming back quickly.

"What's this?" She asked, her slender finger hovering over a circle he'd made the day before.

"It's a temple that's being built. So far, it's that shape. If it changes, I will change it." He shrugged.

Until midday arrived, Iman and Malik were fairly silent, but she stayed in the room with him, lighting the incense that he liked. It helped him focus and calm down considerably. Once Altaïr left, he called her over to him again.

"What is it?" she asked, still wearing his clothes.

"How long were you planning on staying here?" He asked her.

"However long you were going to."

"Why?"

"I enjoy your company."

"Why don't you actually stay with me, tonight, then?" Malik said before he could think about it. He wasn't about to take the comment back, because Iman smiled, and gave him a gentle kiss before he could do much else. He'd dug himself into some sort of hole. He didn't know if that was good or bad, yet. But she left to go retrieve her things, and was back within the hour. He said nothing more to her until after Altaïr returned, looking for a room to stay in.

"Iman, do you still have feelings for Altaïr?" He asked as she turned to go put her own clothes back on, finally. She stopped, and turned back.

"Why do you ask?"

"Because you should act on it if you do."

"I don't believe that I do anymore."

"Then you can forget I said anything." Malik said, kicking himself mentally for what he'd done. He was doing everything he knew he didn't want to do. He didn't want to lead her on to anything and he didn't want her to get hurt, particularly not by anything he might do.

"Then I will." She smiled, disappearing behind the wall. He had only a moment to himself before Altaïr showed his face again.

"I get the feeling that you're having trouble with Iman."

"Why do you say that?" Malik asked sarcastically.

"Malik, she's not going to harm you if you do something wrong. If anything she'll laugh and move on."

"And you know this how?"

"I've known her longer than you have. I know her personality and you just need to relax around her." Altaïr said quietly, leaving him be to think on what he said. And he did for several minutes. There were some parts of this man that still cared about him and that was a small comfort. However, he still needed to work on his ability to comprehend the creed.

He walked into the room she was in, knocking on the door just in time for her to pull her top on, just slightly pink in the face. She began to ask him something but instead Malik cut her off, giving her the answer she wanted to hear earlier.

"I really wish that you would stay here with me until I need to leave. And even then, I want you to stay with me. You're different than any other woman I've met and I want to get to know you better." He said quickly, staring her in the eye as he spoke. Of course, she was silent while she was processing what he'd just said. He didn't give her much more time before he took her hand like he did when they'd first met. It was a firmer hold than before, but he felt different than he had that day.

"And what if I said no?"

"I don't believe you will say no, Iman." He said with a smile. "You would have said no earlier, but you didn't. So why would you now?"