A/N: This is edited as I may take this story back up again.
A smile appeared on Altair's face as he spotted a white hooded figure dismount a black mare outside the gates of Masyaf. The assassin that approached him moved gracefully, the faint clink of weapons sounding. 'He' appeared to be a she, her features pale, delicate and sharp under her hood, and as she reached the other assassin, there was a loud and unexpected 'Oof!' as her fist met with his jaw.
"You arrogant, cocky, selfish fool! How could you let this happen? Do you not have any brains?"
"Alia! Calm do-"
"Damn it, listen Altair! I will not calm down! You have disgraced the brotherhood and failed myself and Malik as a friend."
He rubbed the bruise on his stubbled jaw that was beginning to form as the woman stood with her fists clenched, her knuckles turning white from the tension. Altair refused to meet her eyes, instead glaring at the ground.
"It was not my fault. The wall collapsed and Malik couldn't defend himself pro-"
"And what?" Alia yelled her face going red from anger and her eyes still red from crying. "Yes dear Altair. I'm sure Malik is responsible for the loss of his arm and his brother's life. Did I miss something while I was away? Like Malik getting careless and bigheaded like you? I think not"
Giving him one last disgusted look, she let out a heartbroken sigh and turned from him. I will kill him, the younger assassin thought while storming up the path through the village to the fort. Is he really no different from when we were younger?
"You, boy! Get back here with that! You dirty little thief!"
An eleven year old Alia sprinted down the crowded street with the bag of apples she had just stolen, dangling from between her small fingers. She did, in fact, look very much like a boy with the attire she had. No shoes, tanned ripped breeches, a baggy beige shirt that was far too big for her and messy short cut black hair that fell down in her eyes; which were a dazzling green colour. She dodged in and out of people and slowed down when near the guards. After running in circles for 15 minutes, the guards lost sight of her and she leapt into a hay cart. She regained her breath and peeked out through the hay and wood. Seeing no guards, she jumped out only to be grabbed by the arm by the trader she had stolen from.
"Dirty little thing! How dare you steal in my presence!"
"Please sir! I was hun-"
"Excuse me sir?"
The raven youth stopped struggling to see an old man with a white beard and dressed in white robes with a black coat, staring down at her with admiration. His eyes told countless stories with just one glance, his age and wisdom showing in the small glow his eyes held.
"What do you want?" the trader snapped. A group of people were now gathering around the scene.
"I wish to pay for what the boy stole. How much?"
The trader mumbled something under his breath and Alia closed her eyes, listening to the sound of coins being dropped into his hands. There was no point trying to run. The trader still had a firm grip on her right arm, enough to leave bruising.
"If I catch him stealing again he'll pay with his life!"
Alia opened her eyes at the motion of being released from the man's grip, and to see the trader pushing through the crowds back to his stall. Relief washed over her, causing her to almost forget about the man who had saved her from whatever severe punishment the trader had planned.
"You should not have done that, child. Next time you may not be so lucky."
Alia turned and took a step back from the old man as he spoke. Something about him un-nerved her. What was it? The fact that behind the wisdom and aged eyes, she saw something more? Something dark? Something sinister? But he had been kind to her; kinder than most. What was she afraid of? Surely a gut feeling did not mean much compared to actions?
"My name is Al Mualim. I have been watching you these past few days. Tell me, where are your family?"
Alia swallowed and tried to keep tears at bay. Whether it was from the unessicary fear of the man or the memories that were still so fresh in her mind. The vivid images of her parent's blood smeared across the rocks; her mother's lifeless blue eyes staring up at Alia as she took one last look at her family over her shoulder. She did not see her brother. He was not there. Which is why, Alia had the urge to continue on to Damascas; in hope that she would find someone kind to help her to find her older brother. She was wrong. There was no one kind in such a place.
"Dead, sir. We were on our way to Damascus when we were attacked by bandits. Only I escaped so I continued on here. Please don't send me anywhere bad! Please!"
Al Mualim leaned down towards her and gave her a kind smile. His proximity to her made her feel uncomfortable; however the did her best not to show it as she got the feeling this man could be nasty and intelligent.
"Have no fear. How would you like to train in my brotherhood? You will have family and friends amongst your brothers and we protect one and another."
Alia was quite confused. Brotherhood? Brothers? Does he think I am a boy?
Regardless, it could help her case dramatically. What was she in Damascus? Some street rat? Some dirty little pick pocket? That was not what she wanted in life.
So, she nodded her head shyly and followed Al Mualim through the crowd of people. Smells of flowers, spices and food hit her as for once, she took in the atmosphere of Damascus.
"Hurry on boy! We must leave for Masyaf tonight!"
Alia started to fall behind and eventually lost sight of the old man. She started to panic, her breathing becoming restricted as she got lost in the large crowd of people gathering for the market.
"Sir! Si-"
Hitting her head, she fell into a heap in the crowded area and tumbled into her deep thoughts.
"How is he?"
"Very well Master, but-"
"I asked if the boy was well. Nothing else matters. Now, I must go. Alert me if anything changes."
Alia woke up to find herself in a bed, her head wrapped in bandages. She was comfortable waking up for once, something she could find herself getting used to. Propping herself up with her elbows, she sat up in bed to glance around the large room. It was a pale white walled room, and she could see it must have been some kind of medical area. Opposite her bed, was another; on which an older man was lying down, his leg bandaged up and propped up at the bottom of the bed.
"How are you, young one?"
A medic appeared at her side, holding a tray of food. His eyes were kind, quite unlike Al Mualim's if Alia remembered correctly. He had his black hair grown out and pulled into a rubber band at the back of his neck to keep it out of his eyes. He gave her a reassuring smile as he waited for a reply.
"I- I'm a bit light headed."
The man placed the tray on her lap and checked her bandages, being careful not to knock her head too much with his nimble fingers as they worked. She eyed the soup in the bowl curiously; however wasn't cautious enough to refrain from taking a giant slurp of the liqiud on her spoon.
"That would be from hunger. Tell me, when did you think Al Mualim would realise you are a girl?"
Alia dropped her spoon and stared at the medic who smiled and chuckled as he leaned back away from her;
"Do not worry child. I tried to tell him but he did not listen. I won't tell unless I am asked. You never know. He seemed to like you for your skills. You are a talented young girl."
Alia let herself relax and continued eating when something popped onto her mind. It was odd having the man watch her as she ate. She began thinking self conciously as she slurped the soup. She probably looked awful. And she was eating like she had never seen a morcale of food before. So she decided it was best that she distracted herself.
"What happened?"
The man pulled a old, wooden chair towards the bed and sat back in it; clasping his hands together in his lap.
"Call me Akram. You were apparently hit on the head, hard and collapsed. Al Mualim brought you back here, to the infirmary in Masyaf. You were still unconscious when you arrived. Most likely because of the hit and your tiredness. You've been out cold for three days."
Alia frowned as she placed the tray and her empty plate on the table beside her bed. How could I be so careless? How did I even hit my head?
"Akram?"
"Yes?"
"What kind of brotherhood is this?"
Akram sighed as he got up from his chair and put it against the wall.
"I am sorry but I do not have time to explain in detail. I would not satisfy your questions because once you know about our brotherhood, you'll have questions. I really must tend to my other patients. Tell me though, what is your name?"
"Alia."
He laughed and wrote something down on a piece of parchment that he had picked up from the table Alia had placed her tray on. She watched the quill twirl as he wrote something against the hard wood of the table.
"I suggest you use this," he said, handing it to her, putting his quill back down on the table.
"I have never encountered a boy with the name Alia and I highly doubt anyone else has. Get up and go see Al Mualim. I shall send in one of the boys to show you the way"
Alia glanced gratefully at her new friend before looking down at the parchment that was in her left hand.
'Khalil'
So, her new name was Khalil. Khalil Ibn-Laylah. That could work. Son of the sky. Why had she chosen that? Mainly because she no longer had a family and she had always been fascinated by the sky. Yes, that will work.
"You sent for me, Akram?"
A young boy, maybe the age of 13, with black hair shaved short and dressed in a white tunic and tanned breeches, was standing by the door of the infirmary.
"Ah yes," Akram said, striding over to him from a different patient. "Thank you, Malik. Would you mind showing Khalil here to Master Al Mualim?"
Malik looked over at Alia and smiled.
"Of course not. Get dressed brother and I shall show you to the Master."
Alia was astonished at what the boy had called her and then remembered that she was supposed to be a 'he'. She quickly jumped out of bed as fast as her wobbly legs would allow her and pulled on a pair of brown breeches and a white tunic that had been left out for her.
"Here," Malik said, walking over with a pair of brown boots for her. "We do not get our uniforms yet. I'm getting mine next week though."
Alia took the boots from him and they surprisingly fit perfectly. She smiled gratefully at the boy and was returned with a smile of his own.
"Good, now lets go."
Malik lead her out of the infirmary and out into a corridor. At the end of the corridor, they reached stairs that had guards lining the floors. She froze when she saw them but Malik put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
"It is okay. They are also a part of our brotherhood"
They started up the stairs and when they reached the second floor, Alia found her tongue.
"What kind of brotherhood is this?"
"You were not told?" Malik inquired, looking back at her with a confused expression on his face.
"No."
They began up the second stairway when Malik replied. He did not turn to see her face when he spoke, instead looking straight ahead; almost as if he wished to create a dramatic affect to the great piece of information he possessed.
"We are a brotherhood of assassins."
He heard Alia gasp behind his and laughed; turning around to face her properly.
"Do not worry. We have a creed. Three tenants. I'm sure Al Mualim will make you aware of them."
He laced his speech with sarcasm for the last sentence and made the young girl almost giggle. She was not used to such humour in men or young boys. The only humour the males she knew had found interesting or funny was the abusive comments they might make to one of the women; or the crude conversations that would have the their fellow workers.
"He bashes them into your skull, I assume?"
"Indeed"
They reached the floor where Alia was meant to go to and Malik took his leave, giving her a small pat on the shoulder as he walked back past him.
"I will see you around Khalil."
She nodded goodbye and stepped into the office. Before she could take anything in, a voice commanded her from behind a desk.
"Greetings, child. Welcome to our Brotherhood."
A/N: I've edited this and added bits and pieces in 'cos I'm never happy with the finished piece. But anyway. Mght be taking this back up again, might not. It's been getting a lot of interest at the moment so I might have chapter out again in the next two weeks. Review guys and I'll probably be more likely to get the urge to update. :)
Next Time:
She just wanted to be Alia; plain old Alia. All she could do, she told herself; was wait, try to stick it out, and hope for the best. Time would tell what Allah had planned for her.
TO BE CONTINUED