Panton est Licitus.
By Portrait of a Scribe
"…everything is possible."
"Procul institutio tutela, vetus fio novus."
"What are you saying? Speak plainly, old man."
"Procul institutio tutela, totus res obduco ex unus custodiae custodie ut tunc."
"Is that Latin?"
No reply.
"So, what? You're retiring and shunting all your old duties onto me?"
"Nusquam est verus, panton est licitus."
"Please tell me you're joking."
Again, no reply.
"…So, now what?"
There was a moment of silence.
"Caveo Judas inter paganus filiolus, caveo suum proditor lacuna."
"…Have I ever told you how much I hate Latin?"
"Tell me about it. I'm supposed to be speaking Arabic."
This time, the lack of reply was due, in part, to the other's dropped jaw.
Disclaimer: I don't own Assassin's Creed.
This was meant to be funny, honestly. It was done for a class project, so it's purposefully vague. I took the Latin from my fic "Changing of the Guard" because I was too lazy to find something else. This is, basically, Altaïr and Ezio in some impossible meeting. Not meant to be taken seriously. At all.
-Portrait of a Scribe