Chapter I: Alternation
The dull ring of the bell symbolized it was time for the next period. Desmond sighed swiftly as he tested the muscles in his right hand. Good. It can still move. He complained in his head and asked himself why his history teacher loved to make him and his classmates copy so many notes under such a limited amount of time. Of course he told Desmond and the others what to write, but it was usually one-half a pages worth writing. Desmond reminded himself that it honestly wasn't so bad and it would be worse in his later years, but this was the present; he could care less about what happened in the future at the moment. All he cared about was what was happening to his hand right now.
"Hey, Desmond! Wait for me!" Desmond was just about to head out the door until the voice of a friend had stopped him. "Come on, you know we have Computer Tech. class next together so why can't you remember to stay and walk with me for a bit?"
"Sorry Rebecca," Desmond shrugged as she caught up with him and proceeded out into the crowded hallway. "I just get impatient and can't wait to get out of that class. I always end up trying to haul my ass out of there, you know?"
"Haha, alright I forgive you," she slapped Desmond's back. "But if you do it again, I'm gonna make you buy me my lunch!" Desmond laughed uncomfortably; he barely had enough money to buy food for himself. How does she expect him to buy her lunch as well? Rebecca caught on to his uneasiness. "Hey hey, I was just joking. You really don't have to get me lunch. I know you're on a tight budget, bro," she said as she adjusted her side-bag.
"Thanks," Desmond said with relief. They arrived at their Computer Tech. class and took their usual seats sitting next to each other on the far right of the room. Desmond wrinkled his nose; he still wasn't used to the stale and stuffy air that was always floating around in his classroom. He shook it off and took his seat on his swivel chair.
"Hey Des," Rebecca started as she turned on her desktop. "I just don't get it. Your family is rich and had a fairly good grip on some power. Why aren't they helping you out with your economic troubles? I mean, you pretty much don't need to be working at that bar." Desmond was about to explain to his close friend, but was interrupted before he could say a word.
"Rebecca, honestly, how many times have you asked him this question already? I'm pretty sure he explained the situation to you about, say, a week ago?"
"I told you already Shaun! I still don't understand it! There's too much stuff to wrap my head around," Rebecca said, sinking into her chair. Desmond looked up from his computer screen to a man with lopsided spiked hair and black framed square glasses. He gave a swift nod at him and was returned with a short wave.
"Well it's not as complicating as you really think 'Becky,'" Shaun continued the conversation.
"Hey! I told you to lay off the nicknames, asshole!"
"Oh right, yeah my apologies 'Becky,' I forgot you hated being called that," Shaun said with a sarcastic shrug. "Though at least I do remember why Desmond is so willing to work three days a week at night in Bad Weather and live in a decent condo in the dorms than live in his relative's overly luxurious mansion. Though I'm afraid that if I try to explain it, you won't be able to understand what I'm trying to get at and complain about it again in a few minutes."
"Ass! I know why he has to live alone and I know he's working at Bad Weather only to support himself, but that cheap joint only gives him so much cash! What I want to know is why his oh-so powerful relatives aren't trying to help him out!" Rebecca slammed her hands on the desk and gave Shaun an icy glare.
"If you three are finished, I'd like to begin class? Please, take your seats now Ms. Crane. You too, Mr. Hastings," the teacher called at the head of the classroom.
"Sorry sir," Rebecca said as she plopped down into her plush chair and shrunk behind her computer screen. Desmond nudged her under the table with his foot.
"Don't worry about me," Desmond whispered. "I can manage my own." Rebecca looked back at him with a worried smile.
The day passed on as a blur to Desmond, as he reluctantly dressed for his Phys. Ed class. He had tried to enjoy his previous classes, such as his art class with Mr. da Vinci since the man was such a laid back teacher, and also he had his art class with Lucy.
Lucy Stillman. Lovely red lips, soft pink cheeks, and beautiful golden blonde hair that Desmond had the luxury of seeing down today and not in her signature bun. Desmond couldn't help but day dream about the smile she presented him with as he sat next to her in art class. He'd started to reminisce the days before when he and Lucy had shared their days training together, with Desmond's father as their teacher.
They'd met when Desmond was only six, just a few months after his training had begun with his father and the other children of Black Hills. She was introduced to the group as the other children were; she was born into the Assassin's Order as they were, and she was to start her training along with them as of that day. She was an amazing student, Desmond recalled. He even remembered that she was able to surpass Desmond a few times. He started to admire her at some point, seeing that she excelled in her training and had never lost in any sparring sessions with the other girls; she was even able to trip up a few boys, if Desmond's father allowed the friendly fight to progress. Desmond also believed that because of her amazing progress she had become an outcast. The other girls had begun to call her a suck-up to the teacher and said that she was always trying to grab his attention. The boys had done no ways of confrontational bullying, but they had still refused to talk to her. This went on for three weeks, until Desmond decided to do something about it himself. He wondered why she hadn't fought back against any of the other kids and why she had stayed quiet when the other girls were spouting things that even Desmond himself knew wasn't true. He'd stayed by her and encouraged her; she didn't need pity, Desmond realized. She didn't need someone to tell her that the others didn't know what they were talking about. She needed someone who would tell her that she was doing just fine and she should just keep being herself.
At first, she was reluctant to even look at Desmond when he first introduced himself to her. As time went on, she slowly pulled down her wall of solitude and began speaking her mind to Desmond. She began to trust him and was able to always look for him when she needed someone to say that she was better than all of them. She was never over confident; she was quite the opposite. It didn't take much to knock her down. Desmond always found himself needing to smile around Lucy since she had almost always worn a frown. Whenever she was brought down upon by her peers, he always told her that there was no time to be sulking around; there was only time to train. Although Desmond was usually worn out after a day's training with his father and the others, he'd always try to muster up some energy to pick Lucy up from her dark corner and drag her to the advanced training area and practice his parkour along with her, giving her words of encouragement until the both of them weren't able to lift themselves off the ground. They may have been dead tired, but Desmond found it better to have Lucy complain to him how her legs were aching than to see her distraught and not speak a word to him at all.
It wasn't until Lucy was suggested by Desmond's father to go train in the Auditore Academy in New York that he'd realized his feeling for her. He hadn't heard of the Auditore Academy until then; he'd only known his relatives held the name, but he didn't know anything about them.
But that didn't stop him. He didn't care how far Lucy was going, he wanted to follow her. His level of parkour was just as good as hers, due to all those nights of extra training. He probably wasn't as quick as she was, but Desmond knew he was just as skilled. The day Lucy was recommended for the Auditore Academy was the same night Desmond nearly begged his father to go to New York also. His father refused. He warned Desmond that their level of training in the Auditore Academy was far more difficult than the training process they had here at Black Hills. He argued with his father that he would be able to take it. He was strong enough and he was skilled enough to tackle on whatever they had presented him. His father had not said a word, only telling him that the conversation was over, and hinted off to Desmond that he was still reluctant to agree to the idea.
Lucy agreed to move to and attending the Auditore Academy the next morning, and in two days, she would board her plane that was a one-way flight to New York. Desmond remembered being frustrated with himself and with his father. Without a second thought, he packed his necessities, and ran away to New York.
It was a long trip; a long battle, really. His father apparently put the word out and Assassin's were tracking him down left and right. He was glad his side training with Lucy was put to good use. Eventually, he'd made it to New York, only to be caught by the one and only assassin known as Malik. Malik had found him sleeping up in some tree in the park at night. He actually didn't know anything about Desmond running away from his home in Black Hills until he had asked for his name. Malik couldn't believe that this kid had made his way all the way to New York looking like he did. He was certainly disheveled to a terrible extent. He had not said a word to Desmond as he told him to quickly follow behind him. Desmond reluctantly agreed, realizing there was no use in running now; he was tired, hungry, and he didn't know his way around New York. He'd be found again eventually if not sooner. Desmond kept his head down as he followed the brisk walking pace of Malik. Without knowing, he was suddenly standing in the Chairman's office of the Auditore Academy. Malik explained the situation to the two men who were discussing something before they had arrived. The man behind the desk had suddenly stood up and circled around nervous Desmond. He stopped and stood right in front of him, then placed his hands on Desmond's shoulders, holding a wide smile.
"Welcome Bambino! I understand you've come a long way," he patted Desmond's shoulders. "My name is Ezio Auditore da Firenze. I am one of the chairmen of this school. The man there is Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad; he is the other chairman."
"H-Hello," Desmond was surprised. He definitely didn't expect this. "May I ask? Who are you, exactly? I know you're a relative of mine but—"
"Ah, I'm your great grandfather, Bambino!"
"'G-Great grandfather?" Desmond was confused. The man didn't look a day older than twenty-seven.
"And that man over there—" Ezio pointed to Altaïr as he wrapped his arm around Desmond's shoulders. "—is actually your great great grandfather," Ezio said with a grin. Desmond could feel his mouth go slack-jawed. Ezio began to explain the reasons of why he had started this academy as if Desmond had wanted to know from the beginning. He explained the school is actually an underground training facility is for potential Assassins of the Order. Of course, there had been times when Templar spies had tried to pretend they'd just wanted to join the school because of the amazing reputation it had, but they were able to be rooted out in a matter of days.
"…I'm sure you've come to New York for a reason, yes Desmond?" Ezio suddenly turned stern. Desmond gulped as his hands suddenly went cold. "I'm not going to ask why, for I'm sure it is a good reason, seeing as how you've come all the way here from Black Hills against your father's orders," Ezio said with hands up in defense and a gentle smile on his face. "So I'm allowing you to stay here in the Academy. I'll explain everything to your father myself." Desmond nearly jumped for joy. He was able to stay by Lucy! Finally! "But," Desmond's smile faded. "There is a certain fee you must pay to enter."
"Pay?" Desmond raised an eyebrow at the thought. He knew this was too easy. Ezio nodded.
"Yes, pay. The school fee, Bambino. You are my great grandson yes, but I cannot allow you to join unconditionally," Ezio explained. Desmond sunk into his chair. Pay? How could he pay off the school fees? He was flat broke, and he doubted his father would give him any pity money.
"You don't have to pay it all at once," Ezio said quickly. "You can pay it in portions. Think of this as a slight punishment for going against your father," Ezio suddenly smiled again. "Trust me, you should be glad. We could've just sent you back to Black Hills without even listening to what you have to say."
"H-how much is the fee…?" Desmond hesitantly asked. There was a heavy pause in the room before anyone had said a word.
"$600,000 for the regular school fee. Added with the Assassin's training, the total is $950,000." Desmond's eyes widened. He began to panic.
"I-I don't know if…I won't be able to…I can't…!"
"Calm down, Desmond! I told you, you don't have to pay all of it right away!"
"But…that's nearly a million dollars!"
"Yes and this academy is expensive to run! Training rooms, weapons, VR rooms, parkour obstacles, and not to mention a large medical facility! And on top of all that, we need to tend to the typical needs of all the students, assassins or not. Food, bed sheets and blankets, text books, the right technology, sports equipment, everything is needed," Ezio shot a glare back at Desmond. It was scary to suddenly see this man so menacing. Ezio sighed as he readjusted himself into his large chair.
"It does seem nearly impossible to pay off, but trust me, you'll be able to," Altaïr suddenly spoke. "I suggest you pay off your school fee by the end of this school year, or else you'll be having some problems with next school year's fee." Desmond placed his head in his hands. He couldn't do this. "So here is my proposal: you begin your work for the Assassin's Order early."
"What?" Desmond lifted his head.
"You will still be in training, but that is what I am suggesting. You take on the role of a true assassin. You will be presented missions that you are to see out swiftly and professionally; in return you are paid. Depending on the mission will determine the amount of your pay. Playing bodyguard for a client would probably get you from four hundred to seven hundred dollars. Assassinating a high class Templar official? Your pay will be a good deal of two thousand to four thousand dollars, depending on how important the official was," Altaïr's expression from under his hood had not changed throughout from what Desmond could see. He was listening intently, determined to pay off his debt. "But, here's the interesting part. This may be a good thing or a bad thing, but we're only trying to look out for you as much as we can. You see, you might be tempted to give us all of your earnings from your mission; however these still are your earnings. We do not want you to not be able to have money for your own personal needs. Therefore, we will only be taking half of your pay; the other half you can use as you see fit. Now, this does mean that it may take a while to pay your debt, but I can assure you, this is the best way," Altaïr said. "Can you accept this deal?"
"I can," Desmond said, determined. Altaïr nodded.
"This is good! I will have your dorm arranged as soon as possible," Ezio burst out, suddenly brightly content once more. "As a small present from your great grandfather, I'll give you a private room, one with your own bathroom and such! Don't worry I'm not going to charge you for that," Ezio smiled as he started assigning Desmond's room. Altaïr placed a hand on Desmond's shoulder as he walked out of the office and grinned a rather devious grin.
"It is a pleasure to be working with you."
"Desmond, look out!" Wham! He was knocked back on the ground, dazed. "Oh man, sorry Des! Are you alright?"
"Hey are you o—"
"Oh my gosh! Desmond are you—"
"Hey man, how you feel?"
"Desmond!"
"Des! What happened?"
He couldn't focus on what had just happened. He was seeing white dots all around him. He shook his head until his vision was clear. He could see his classmates crowd around him, all asking the same things. He laughed uneasily, as he tried to stand up, telling them he was okay. As he was brought to his feet, his vision suddenly when white again, and he stumbled backward.
"Whoa, buddy," Shaun had caught him. "Alright Desmond I think you should get to the nurse's office."
"No no, I'm fine," Desmond tried to shake him off.
"Um, Desmond, I don't think you've noticed but you've got a bleeding nose, and you can barely stand up by yourself. You were pretty much hit head on with a soccer ball that was gunned at you—by accident, I hope." Shaun explained to him. Now that he thought about it, his mouth had started to taste a bit metallic and warm.
"Alright fine, I'll go," Desmond said as he shook the whiteness away from his vision. "I'll go by myself."
"Are you sure? Cause you look like you can faint at any second."
"Yeah yeah, I'll be fine," Desmond said as he took off his shirt and placed it under his nose. He was glad he wore a tank top today. "Just go tell the coach I'm going, will you?"
"Yeah yeah, no yeah, don't worry about that. You just get the nurse's as quickly as possible."
"Thanks," Desmond waved as he walked off the field and made his way inside the school. He had to adjust his P.E. shirt multiple times to find a dry spot for his still bleeding nose. He was worried about himself.
"Shit, this thing just won't stop will it?" He cursed under his breath as he quickly walked through the door of the front office and up to the front desk. "Excuse me," he said behind his shirt. The attendant looked up with a light smile and watched him with large blue eyes from behind her glasses. Desmond would return the favor, but he thought about how his teeth must be covered in his nose blood right now. "Uh nosebleed," he said embarrassed. "Got hit in the face with a soccer ball."
"Oh you poor thing," she said with a genuinely concerned look. "There's a bathroom in the nurse's office right there; wash your face with cold water, get a clean paper towel and use that instead of your shirt, then lie down on the bed for a while, okay?" Desmond nodded. "You can explain to the Nurse what happened afterwards, when you're done washing your face. Don't worry, she won't mind so just take your time, honey."
"Alright, thank you ma'am," Desmond replied. She smiled at him once more. He turned around to walk to the Nurse's room, when his eye caught a glimpse of to people who were sitting down outside of Ezio and Altaïr's office. They were…sketchy. One of them was a girl. She had short, light brown hair and amazing icy blue eyes. She had her arms and legs crossed as she listened to her music through her earphones. She looked around and whistled to the tune of her music trying to find something to entertain her, occasionally glancing at the figure next to her. Dark, secluded, creepy, and sketchy…very very sketchy. The person was slumped down into their chair with their hands in the pockets of their jeans; their hood of their dark jacket covered their face, giving Desmond no chance in identifying who the person was. He watched them with a concerned look, only looking away until the girl noticed him and gave him big white friendly smile. Desmond's eyes widened, and then he quickly tried to re-catch himself. He gave a quick wave then calmly made his way past them to the nurse's office.