Nothing is true, Everything is permitted

by Davoid123

A story of an assassin after the time of Altair. also, how the Assassins branched out in the world after the failure in Constantinople (tried my best to be historically accurate, but will probably have huge historical goofs)

1. Chapter 1

Everything is permitted, Nothing is true

Chapter one

[Holy lands, Masyaf, About 1196 AD]

"Al-Saregh! Stop!" a guard said as he ran after me, trying once again to catch me.

'Al-Saregh' was my only known name. the one people called me with. After all, the best I'd ever experienced as a conversation was when guards called after me to stop. not that I would've.

I was a thief. Only because necessity demanded it. i stole only the bread I needed, the coin I required for a living and some more. The fact that hadd for thievery was an ARM didn't tempt me to slow down.

I wasn't the best thief, but I was infamous for never getting caught. Some of my fences, the black market vendors in the older parts of the town who normally bought the odds and ends I 'found', used to call me Masyaf's Master thief.

I ran as isma'il , the captain of the guards, yelled after me. despite my young age of sixteen, I knew the city better than anyone, and isma'il was not as familiar with the town as I was. I yelled "Asef" as I ran past a young lady talking with a young man in grey robes. Then I quickly changed course. The few dropped crates at my wake would be a problem for my pursuers.

I saw a stack of hay as I was running, and I quickly jumped inside, then waited.

I wasn't disappointed, the heavy footsteps of the three guards got louder, then they stopped near the stack I was hiding in. as the cursed under their breath, I looked up. On a building in front of the hay stack, an exceptionally tall building might I add, a wooden board could be seen,

The lieutenant said "no signs of the thief isma'il. What is your command?" the guard captain replied in his gruff voice "we leave. Our real job is to protect the town. Al-saregh will show himself again. maybe we'll catch him next time."

I waited a few minutes more, then I sensed them leave. I've always been able to do that. Sense if danger was nearby. I could almost see the guards leave with my eyes closed. That sixth sense had never let me down. I wan't betting on it starting now.

I left the haystack, which was too clean for a normally placed food for a horse. I gave it no thought, and picked up the fresh piece of bread I'd hide on the ground near the stack. After clearing the dust off the bread, I began eating it.

Half an hour later, I was once again roaming the roads, looking for a target.

I finally reached the town square. A few vendors were advertising their goods, two men talking about something, a few guards chatting with the townsfolk. That was what I loved about masyaf: most people, including the guards, were friendly. Something about the castle on the maintain near the city. The city hadn't been in the danger ever since the invasion of the knight Templars about 50 years ago. Not even the holy wars had touched the town.

The town square was my favorite fishing area. Most wouldn't notice stuff getting lost, and few missed a few coins. I looked around and found a young man in a grey robe. The same one I'd almost ran into half an hour ago.

Target locked

The man started walking to an alley after thirty minutes of sitting in silence. I smiled as I tailed him. as soon as I was close enough, I snaked my hand into his pouch.

That was when I noticed something was wrong. He screamed of danger, and if that wasn't enough, his pouch, aside of the few coins, was full of pointy objects. And I'm using the expression really loosely. The stash was full of daggers, picks and darts. The moment my hand left his pouch, the man turned, and In a very impressive show of speed, he slammed me to the wall. a dagger in his hands (I swear he pulled it out of thin air) that he put on my throat.

The man growled "so, this is the master thief of masyaf. Nothing but a mere…" his growl left, a look of shock and confusion replacing it, "a mere boy!"

His dagger left my throat and with a snickt returned the sleeve of his left hand. He took a step back, and said "I don't understand. Why are you a boy?"

But he didn't wait for my reply, he said to himself "I can't leave you with the guards. A boy doesn't deserve getting his hands chopped off." Then said "but so much talent…"

He smiled, and turned to me "I have an offer for you"

That was when I recognized him. altair ibn-al-ahd, 'Al-muallim' of the assassin's brotherhood. Why he was here I'd never know, but I asked "what is it you ask of me?"

The man smiled "you have certain talents many don't. talents we, in the brotherhood, try to turn into skill. I give you a one time offer to join us. Join the brotherhood of assassins, and fight so that one day, no one needs to steal, to merely save his life"

To join the brotherhood. It was a really good offer. But I couldn't seem too eager. Something I've learned from the streets is to never play into someone else's hands. They'll push you around as soon as they know you depend on them. I said "and what if I don't?"

He said "then I'll leave, and won't mention what I've seen here. You'll live here, as you have, and will continue to live as a petty thief"

I said "fine then, I accept your offer" and the mentor said "remember, young apprentice assassin. Nothing is completely true, and therefore, everything is possible"

That was the last day I ever stole to stay alive. at least for a very long time.

[Jerusalem, about 1200]

I calmly walked on the roof of the bureau of Jerusalem. Unfortunately, no assassin beneath the rank of senior had the right to enter the bureau the normal way, as in the doors. The rest of us had to use the aerial approach: Do a leap of faith. mostly a symbolic gesture, not to mention the it was a type of training. I, a journeyman, was not an exception.

I ran to the board, dived, and landed in a stack of hay. Stepped out, and went towards the rafiq of the bureau, a tall man named hesam. The rafiq said "Ahlan va sahlan ya akhi" I nodded, and replied "alaykum al-salam ya rafiq, I have returned" hesam asked "have you completed your investigation?" I nodded, he said "tell me what you found"

I said automatically, "he is, as far as I've seen, a Templar. I've seen the ring on his person, and in his house. But that is not the reason he is sentenced to death. He is a mercenary. The way he finds the goods are mostly banditry. He raids the Christian and Muslim caravans to and off Jerusalem. He never leaves survivors, and ignites the flames of hostility between the two factions by this. For that alone, he is not only a bandit, but also a threat to the safety of the land. Therefore he deserves to die"

The older man nodded, "indeed. And what do you propose as the method of assassination?"

I replied "a public execution can be performed. A blade in the crowd. But what I suggest is a smarter approach, if a little subtle"

The master assassin raised an eyebrow "go on"

"we spread rumors about a caravan coming to jerusalem. Once we have made sure one of his men knows, we send a party of master assassins as 'protection' for the caravan, and when he attepts to raid, the brotherhood eliminates him. once and for all"

The rafiq nodded, "that seems an adequate plan. If a bit risky. At worst we'll have to perform the said public execution, If he doesn't take the bait. You've done well, ibn-al-zalal" and dismissed me. I went to talk with the poisons instructor. The most important skill a journeyman learns are poison making. And of course, the first steps of choosing his own style of fighting.

[castle of Masyaf, 1203]

I growled at my bastard of an opponent. James Cunningham. One of the three other seniors in my age. Cunningham was a bit of a rebel. He had every teaching of a senior assassin, knew them by heart even, yet he refused to use the stealth that we all preferred.

His favorite method of assassination was brutal execution. Being called 'ghul al-abyz' for that. Due to the same brutality.

He was also extremely arrogant, coming from a noble house of England, and joining the assassins by climbing up to the castle by himself.

Unfortunately he also had the skill to back his arrogance up. He as more skillful than me in the use of long blade, blunt weapons, and lances. And spars are always with long blades.

I raised my staff, and looked at him as he was twirling his staff in one hand with practiced ease.

The instructor called "BEGIN!"

The brash assassin grinned and with a ferocious snarl he attacked me. I swinged my blade and blocked his attack. he was stronger than me, and the attack, although blocked, made me stagger for a second. That mere second was more than enough for him. he jumped back, swiped my feet off the ground and held his staff at my throat.

with a face full of delight he said "do you yield?" even though his tone said "please don't"

I snarled, but nodded, the instructor called "James is the Victor. The two of you can take your leave. Wait at the library for your fellow brothers.

i knew better than to be angry at him. our spars had been this short ever since i remember. all i could blame was my lack of proficiency.

nevermind that while not on a spar ring, or in a fight, the two of us were mostly best of friends.

The two of us left for the library

I had, after nine painfully hard years of training, become a senior assassin. As I still had no given name, most knew me as 'zalal al-abyz'

I wasn't really from masyaf. Almost every child of masyaf is either related to an assassin, or is an assassin by the right of birth. No, I was a traveler. I had, to escape the greatest nightmare of my life, sneaked to a caravan that travelled from Acre to Masyaf, reaching there and becoming 'al-saregh' at the age of eleven.

When the other two joined us, we were waiting by the library of the Master. Ubayd, another one of our age, a master of espionage, though not that good with a blade or bow, exhaled and said "shall we go inside, then?"

The fourth assassin of our age, the silent observer (as most called him) nodded. Ubayd politely knocked twice. We waited for a few seconds, then a voice boomed "Enter"

And enter we did. The normally bright room of master Altair was dark. The windows were closed and covered. The great balcony that lead to the rest of the castle was nowhere to be seen

The only sources of light were the five candles in the middle of the room. Five candles making a circle enough to hold a man to stand in.

On the far end of the room, Altair Ibn-Al-Ahd and four other assassin masters stood. Altair called "Zalal Al-Abyz, step forward."

I stepped in the circle, 'Al-Muallim' said "on this day, an acolyte falls, so that a master shall rise from his ashes. This man has tested the hardships of training, and today, he shall reap what he as sowed."

He said "Zalal Al-Abyz, do you swear to uphold our tenets while you breath?"

I replied "I swear it. I swear to never turn my back on what makes us differ from what most see us"

"then recite them once more, so that you never fail to uphold them"

I recited I three ground rules of the brotherhood. "Stay your blade from the flesh of innocent. Be a blade in the crowd, and never compromise the brotherhood"

Al-muallim nodded, "indeed, step forward and don your new skin"

I simply took off my robes of senior assassin, and accepted the new robes.

The boots with two daggers hidden beneath them. The tunic and pants to hold the body. The white robe, with a color of blood red coating the insides of it. two satchels to hold the small bottles of poison, a belt with two scabbards on the backside, with space to space darts. A poach to hold throwing knives and a spare dagger. A white hood shaped like the beak of an eagle.

I donned the magnificent robes of master assassin, and then placed my two short swords in the scabbards.

Then I donned the brown leather gloves, and the two wrist plates that come with them

Al-Muallim said "tell me our maxim" I said "La Shay'a waqi'un motlagh, bale kollon momkena. nothing is completely true, therefore everything is possible. Nothing is true, everything is permitted"

The five master assassins recited "nothing is true, everything is permitted. Everything is permitted, nothing is true"

He granted me a pair of blades, "the hidden blades. The utmost signature of the Hashashin, and the seal for a master assassin. It is time for you to join us. Unleash your blades"

U put the blades in my wrist plates, with a little practice, I performed a hand movement I'd seen other master assassins use before. With a flickr of my wrist, the mechanism orked and a pair of blades made of steel left my sleeve. Each blade grazed one of my middle fingers, and white it didn't cut off the finger (as I'd been told it would do before the times of Altair), it bloody hurt. I winces and then, with another flickr of my wrist, I returned the blades back to my sleeves.

Three more tries, and I finally got the hang of it. master altair said "follow the one who vouched for you for your final test of faith then, young brother."

One of the white robed assassins snapped into attention at once, the. He opened the doors to the balcony, and jumped over it, landing on the roof of another part of the castle, one considerably lower than the tower of Altair. When he was far enough, I started free running. We started at the highest point in the castle, and the diving point was on the exact other side, on the lowest level. To run the gauntlet one had o circle the castle twice.

I ran, jumping over the occasional obstacles. Finally, the assassin (and me on his tail) reached the diving point. Without stopping for even a moment, he swan dived down, and into the abyss below.

While I was skeptical of the safety of such practice, this was more of a leap of faith. To prove your faith that your brothers won't compromise you as long as you know what you are doing (I.E jumping in the stack, not the ground near it). I, as well as him, dived down.

Soon enough I could make out the highlights of the City of Masyaf, and soon enough, I fell head first into a strategically placed stack of hay.

My final test was complete.

I was a master assassin.

A.N

Hello. This is my first attempt at an Assassin's creed fan fiction, please review, and be critical (though not harsh, if you can.)

The non-modern-English words needing translation (on this chapter only Arabic)

1)Al-Saregh: 'the thief'

2)Hadd: 'limit', also the punishment Islam decrees for certain crimes (such as adultery, drinking wine, thievery, murder, …)

3)asef: 'Sorry'

4)isma'il: the Arabic form of "Ishmael"

5) Altair ibn-al-ahd: (a different spelling is used in the game) if you don't know this guy when reading stories from this fandom, there's something wrong with you. the name literally means "the bird who is son of one"

6) Al-muallim: 'the teacher', this expression is used as the Arabic (and Levantine) form of the rank 'mentor'

7)rafiq: 'friend', used in the first game of the franchise as the rank of the leader of each of the assassin bureaus.

8)hesam: a type of sword, also a name

9) ahlan va sahlan ya akhi: something along the lines of "I greet you, my brother"

10) alaykum al-salam, ya rafiq: "hello to you, friend" or "hello to you, rafiq" (considering the meaning of rafiq in the game)

11)ibn-al-zalal: 'son of the shadows'

12)Ghul al-abyz: the white giant, or the white demon

13) zalal al-abyz: the white shadows, or the white shades.

14)ubayd: Persian name, originating from the word 'abd', meaning 'slave'.

15) La Shay'a waqi'un motlagh, bale kollon momkena: the basic maxim of the assassins brotherhood, wrongly translated to "nothing is true, everything is permitted"

note: the actual translation of this sentence is "nothing is completely true, therefore everything is possible"

of course, this is not the end for our currently non-named assassin (and I am looking for a suitable english name for the guy. In case he travels to other places (not an Arabic name, I already have thought of that)

thank you for reading this (in case you actually read this, that is)

until next chapter (or maybe a next chapter for another one of my stories, heaven knows I have been lazy for a looooong time), this is davoid, signing off.