Chapter One:
The Confrontation
1225
"Oh God…" I finally muttered.
Darim hugged me from behind and wiped away a tear that had escaped me. I hadn't even noticed it. "Don't worry, Suna. It will be all right."
I wasn't sure if I could believe him. Regardless, I pulled away from Darim and sat on my bed, then tugged my ruined hood over my face.
Darim knelt beside me and kissed my forehead affectionately. "Sister… do not worry. Please."
I would need to speak to Altair. I would need to speak to him and ask what would happen. I needed to know.
But then, holding my brother's hand, I just wanted to die.
I woke up from the dream—no, memory—in hurried gasps, my heart pounding both in my chest and head like a drum of war. I was certain someone would wake up from its resounding beats.
I brought my hands to my face and held them there. I was shaking terribly, the thought of speaking to Altair about... this... was driving me insane. I could barely wrap my mind around it as it was.
Immortality. One does not go through life without wondering what it would be like. But I did not expect that it would be me, of all people, to gain it.
I shuddered and got out of my cot. I paced around my tent for all of ten minutes before I uncorked a vial of ink, dipped a quill in it, and began to write to my youngest brother.
Sef,
Something I cannot explain with words has happened to me. I feel shame knowing it, but I cannot allow it to cloud my judgement. When we all get back to Masyaf, would you mind if I spoke with you? I need to talk about it, but I cannot quite find the words yet. Hopefully, the journey back to Masyaf will be considerably shorter than the journey here, to Mongolia.
Your family is all safe, Sef. Genghis Khan died by your brother's hand, and Khan's Piece of Eden is lost... I hope. The camp has begun to pack up. There are some who had volunteered for our makeshift army, and they were not Assassins. However, a few have shown an interest in such a path. Qulan will take care of it.
As usual, give our love to your daughters and wife. I look forward to seeing you. Keep safe, my brother.
Your sister,
Suna
I leaned back and took a moment to examine my writing. I hadn't written in so long that my hand would cramp from the simplest message, but this would do. I folded the letter and left it on my desk. I would give it to a courier later.
I took a deep breath and ran my hand through my dark brown hair. Vague red highlights made it look lighter, but whenever someone looked at me, the attention was not to my hair. My lively liquid-gold eyes were the first things anyone ever noticed. Not my trademark white robes, and not the armoured bracer on my left forearm; my eyes.
I rubbed them and then looked at my cot. Wrapped up in the sheet were my robes. I'd been repairing them, and finished last night. I hadn't left my tent in the two days I'd started the project, shame and fear keeping me inside. The hood was fixed now; it had been torn and hung lank on my face when Genghis Khan narrowly missed my face with the Sword of Eden, and instead tore my hood.
My stomach seemed to have healed from the wound I got from the Sword, but I had a new scar. I hadn't gotten a scar in years. Ever since...
I shook my head and donned my robes. They had been cleaned as well, so their white shone with clarity, just like Altair's. Cleaning my robes became a habit within my first year as an Assassin. Maria had made certain of that.
I flipped my hood over my head, secured all of my weapons in their respective places, and left the tent. The field was a bustle of activity as men cleared their campsites, and Assassins and volunteers alike parted ways with grins on their faces. The victory against Genghis Khan was one that would be remembered for centuries to come, I was certain.
I took my time walking to Altair's tent. I savoured the smell of the grass on the wind, though the scent of blood was still being carried as well. I wondered if I couldn't just close my eyes and open them, and find everything to be a dream. A terrible dream.
Too soon, I found myself in Altair's tent. He and Maria pecked each other on the lips as they laid in bed together. I suddenly realized that I was staring at them. Altair looked up and saw me, but didn't seem to mind. In fact, he seemed entertained by my reddening face.
"Come to visit us in bed, Suna?" he asked, smirking and making Maria laugh.
"I-I just..." I cleared my throat and looked away from the two, mentally beating myself for not asking permission to enter. My feet just led me there. "I need to speak with you, Altair."
"Now?" he grumbled, wrapping his arms around Maria.
I frowned. "You can stay right there while I am speaking."
"Ah, a compromise. I like it." Altair was an old man now, but his years and training as an Assassin had given him habits a man his age would not be able to do, like exercising every day, so he looked almost just like he did when he was twenty-six. Of course, he had greying hairs now. "What is it you wanted to talk about, Suna?"
"The Apple."
I had Altair's full attention now. He sat up in bed and looked me up and down, his hand running through the stubble of his beard. Maria sat up as well, and looked from her husband to me.
"I hate talk of that thing," she admitted. "It is a terrible artefact."
"Which is why I wonder why you bring it up, Suna," Altair muttured.
I took a deep breath. "I wanted to talk about what the Apple has done to me."
"Is it about the Sword? I know it wounded you and you had trouble healing, but—."
"No," I interrupted him. "This is something I've recently... come across."
Altair folded his hands together in front of him. "What is it, Suna?"
I opened my mouth to speak, words ready to fall from my mouth, when a man poked his head into the tent. He looked from me to the Grandmaster, and then smiled.
"How are you all?" he asked in broken Arabic.
Altair raised an eyebrow. "Very well. Who sent you?"
"My master." The man sprang into the tent and shoved me to the side, raising a knife above his head. "Die, Assassin!"
I hit Altair's desk and immediately rebounded, grabbing the man by the scruff of his shirt. He swung the knife around wildly and cut my cheek as I threw him into the desk. He spun around, but froze when I drove my hidden blade through his gut.
"Idiot! Do you think that I'd be so stupid as to forget how to kill careless pawns like you?!" I growled, letting the man's body fall to the ground.
Altair already had thrown the upper-half of his robes on, and Maria was in the process of getting ready herself. "I will speak to Qulan about this," he informed us as he secured his newly-crafted twin hidden blades to his wrists and grabbed his sword. "Hold that thought for later, Suna. And be on your guard."
"I always am," I replied dryly.
Maria rolled her eyes. "Not one moment of peace. I wonder sometimes if it is wise to continue communications with the Mongol Assassins."
"We must," I told her. "The Assassins cannot abandon their own."
"But the Assassins can allow spies and traitors into their ranks."
I smirked at her. "Were you not a Templar many years ago, Maria?"
The older woman glared at me. "Suna, I'm not afraid to silence you. I'm your mother, after all."
"I'm trembling in my boots." The talk with Altair would have to wait. But I wondered for how long.
1529
I heard the door open in the front. Standing, Sofia and I went to greet the Auditore siblings.
"Marcello, Flavia," Sofia started. "There's something we need to speak about. It is important, so I ask that you sit."
The siblings Auditore watched me incredulously, and Flavia glared at her mother.
"We should be getting a dottore!" she snapped. "And you! You should be in bed, idiota!"
I grinned. "I told you, Flavia; I'm fine!"
"Toro merda!" she exclaimed.
Marcello crossed his arms across his chest, but sat in front of the fireplace, his eyes deep in thought like his father's had been. Flavia caught the stern look her mother gave her and followed her younger brother, muttering curses under her breath.
"Instead of dragging this out..." I hurried into the kitchen, grabbed a knife, and came back into the living room, standing in front of the Auditores. "Here; this will explain better."
I flipped my hood off, not bothering to see their expressions, and pressed the knife against my palm. Blood began to trickle from it and down my arm. I placed the knife on the table in-between the two young Auditores and showed them my hand. The flesh slowly began to knit together in front of them.
"Do not ask me to cut myself again," I told them. "It still hurts when I do it."
Marcello blinked, his eyes snapping back-and-forth from my hand to my face. "Che cazzo...?" he grumbled.
"Language!" Sofia snapped, smacking the back of his head.
I grinned. "Okay, now that the hard part's done..." I cleared my throat. "I'll make this quick: my real name is Suna. I was born in Syria many years ago, and I am an Assassin."
The two Auditores looked at their mother, as if for confirmation. She nodded. "Your father was one as well. He was the Mentor of the Italian Assassins. I met him when I was running a bookshop in Istanbul. He wasn't exactly there for the books."
I smirked. "Ezio was my friend for a very long time, even to his death."
Flavia squinted her eyes at me. "Aspetta... You were the one who brought us those gifts all those years ago! I still have that bear!"
"I assume it got much use?"
"But this is impossible!" Flavia stood up abruptly. "No one can—!"
"Do I really have to cut myself again?" I groaned, and then unwrapped the scarf from my neck and pointed. "See? I'm still burnt here. It hasn't healed yet. It depends on the injury."
Marcello's brow furrowed. "What do you mean, 'Assassin'?"
I cleared my throat. "The order I belong to defends the free will of all people, but we have to work through bad means to do good things. Work in the dark to serve the light."
"And padre...?"
"His father and brothers were killed by Templars, the men we Assassins fight against, and so Ezio struck out to defeat them, at least in Italia." I shrugged. "Then he travelled to my home, Masyaf, to learn the secrets of my father. He settled down with Sofia, and had you two troublemakers."
Marcello crossed his arms indignantly. "I am not a troublemaker!" he huffed.
"You picked a fight with Antonio, remember?" I grumbled.
"And how am I a troublemaker?!" Flavia snapped.
I rolled my eyes. "The fight was about you, poco Flavia."
Flavia's hands wrung together. "I find this talk of 'Assassins' hard to believe, Sofia. Especially about my father."
"You remember Shao Jun?" I asked.
She nodded. "The Chinese woman. She was difficult to understand at times, but I'm glad she knew Italian. I didn't know Chinese..."
"She is an Assassin too." Flavia's eyes snapped up to me. "She came to the Villa to learn from Ezio, but he was retired. He did, however, teach her that it would take time to free her people, but it would be worth it."
"So those men you... killed...?"
"Templars. Old friends of the Auditore family." I grinned. "Lucky for you, I'm an even older friend."
"Sofia has been an ally of our family since the time of Domenico Auditore, when he was Dante Alighieri's apprentice. Domenico was your great-great-grandfather," Sofia explained.
"You come from a long line of Assassins," I added, "and that means you have many enemies as well. Your father almost single-handedly took down the Borgia, and he got into a fistfight with Pope Alexander VI, also known as Rodrigo Borgia."
Marcello beamed. "So that's where I learnt how to fight so well!"
"Don't flatter yourself! You cannot 'inherit' one's fighting ability! If you did get Ezio's abilities, Antonio and his friends would have been floored in a matter of moments!"
The young Auditore frowned, but said nothing. I sat in front of the fire and began to explain about myself and Ezio, who they had a particular interest in (obviously). The talk went on for hours, but I had to stop when Sofia asked me to help her outside, though I promised to continue for the Auditore children later.
They deserved that much.
2012
"I don't like this place," I grumbled, placing my hands on my hips.
William frowned at me. "You don't have to like it, but we're here now. We're so close..."
He trailed off and I stuck my tongue out at him. I still didn't like him, no matter what he would do. He was a grade-A asshole. Always had been.
"If you don't like it here, perhaps we should go somewhere else?" Walter asked.
I shrugged. "Where?"
"Let's properly see New York!" he suggested.
"I suppose you haven't exactly seen it..." I scratched the back of my head. "William! We're going out!"
He glanced up at us and frowned. "And how are you going to do that? You're not using the van."
I rolled my eyes. "I have friends, you know. I can call in a favour."
William shook his head. "Do what you want. You always do."
"Says the asshole with no friends," I growled.
William snapped his head up, but by then, Walter was already leading me out of the Grand Temple. There was a bit of a steep hill to climb, but we made it out and into the light of the day. Shaun and Rebecca were unpacking the rest of the van, and Desmond was out for a run. Considering he'd been a petrified nut for the last few weeks, he'd earned the run.
I took out my phone and called up a friend—Embry Redgrave. It'd been a few weeks since I'd seen him. We only had to wait about twenty minutes before Embry came with a helicopter, which we boarded and took an aerial tour of New York city. Walter loved being up in the air, but I could tell it was unnerving for him.
"We'll go to ground level and tour it that way too, okay?" I told Walter through the headset.
He nodded, sticking his face up against the glass of the helicopter. When we got off, Embry had dropped us near Central Park.
"It's so... big," he murmured. "Much bigger than when we were in the car!"
The last time Walter had seen New York, Shaun had been driving us to the apartment in Harlem that we were hiding out in with the comatose Desmond. We walked around for hours. I was entertained because of Walter, whose eyes were about the size of a plate, and he was entertained due to the wonders of the future. We eventually wandered into the red light district and had to leave pretty quickly, so I hoped that he wasn't scarred for life.
But I turned my back for one second, and Walter disappeared.
"Oh lordy-lord," I mumbled. "Walter! Where are you?!"
I didn't hear anyone call back. I ran around as fast as I could, bumping into some people but managing to manoeuvre around most, but I couldn't find Walter.
"Goddammit where the hell'd he get off to?!" I grumbled. I looked around for a little longer before I spied some girls in mini-skirts. "Oh. He got scared. Well, that widens the radius that I need to look for him..."
I probably spent two hours walking around looking for Walter before I veered off into a back alley. He wasn't there either, and as I was about to walk out, five men entered the alleyway. It didn't take a genius to know that they weren't normal thugs.
"Templars..." I growled.
One of them pulled a retractable knife. "Assassin," he regarded.
I smirked at his weapon. "You think a little blade like that is getting anywhere near me?"
"You're alone, defenceless, and sarcastic." The Templar grinned. "I like our odds."
"Well, I don't like yours. It looks pretty terrible."
Three lunged forward. I flipped one overtop of me, ducked and swept my leg underneath the second, and then buried my hidden blades into the third's gut. I kicked him away from me and then tossed a throwing knife at the fourth, who was fleeing. The fifth (the one with the knife) ran at me, brandishing his weapon, and locked it with my hidden blades. I brought my knee up and hit him in the soft spot, and then kicked his legs out from under him. I leapt overtop of the first Templar to attack me (who had lunged at my legs) and then drove my hidden blade into his back, where his heart was. The second followed quickly enough when I buried my other hidden blade into his skull.
I kicked the knife out of the fifth Templar's hand, retracted my hidden blades and grabbed the collar of his shirt. "What have you done with Walter?!" He desperately tried to get away, but I slammed my fist into his head. "Where is he?!"
"I don't know anything—!"
I punched him again. "My companion! Where is he?!" I repeated.
The man didn't speak, so I continued to punch him. He was likely on the brink of death before I heard a sound from the entrance of the alleyway. When I looked up, Walter stood there with three figures, hooded and in white.
"Walter!" I exclaimed. "Where've you been?! I've been looking all over for you and had to stop to get some Templars! This place is crawling with them worse than their home base!"
He grinned at me sheepishly. "Sorry, love," he murmured. "I'll try not to get lost again."
I dropped the Templar. "You wouldn't get lost if you didn't run away every time you see a woman with a mini-skirt!"
"Sorry. I just don't get how women find such things attractive. It's not becoming of them!"
I hugged Walter. At least the Templars hadn't kidnapped him, but I wasn't apologizing to the one I'd beat back in the alley.
I talked with the Assassins from New York and thanked them for helping Walter. To properly thank them, I invited them for drinks (mostly because I was thirsty, but hey), and so we went to the nearest iced tea shop.
The three Assassins that sat across from Walter and I were only teenagers, but from the looks of them, they were experienced. One boy, two girls, though the one looked like she'd gone through Hell and back. She and the boy seemed... intimate... (It doesn't take a genius to figure that one out.)
We all took a sip of our drinks, gauging each other. The first girl seemed to outrank the others, and I could see her eyes taking me in, examining me. Her eyes were golden like mine, but they could be mistaken for amber. I thought nothing of it; she was likely wearing contacts, just like everyone assumed with my own liquid-gold eyes. Her hood was down, revealing pale skin and brown hair. She reminded me of someone, but with all the people I knew, I couldn't place it.
"This is delicious!" I smirked at Walter's outburst.
"It's water with a ton of flavoured sugar," I told him. "Better than frozen tea any day."
"I prefer earl grey myself."
"I know. That's all you ever drank."
Walter grinned at me and came a bit closer. I saw the Assassins turn their heads respectfully, but it still made me embarrassed. Nonetheless, Walter removed my hood and kissed me, and then my eyes (which I had to close, that bastard...).
The brown-haired Assassin turned back before her comrades. I was confused at first when she was looking at me strangely, but then her female friend saw me and muttered something that I managed to catch only by luck.
"Suna..."
I was immediately on guard. No one but Shaun, William, Rebecca, Walter and Desmond knew me by that name.
I narrowed my eyes at the young Assassin. "What did you just say?"
Walter's arm wrapped around my shoulders, and I saw on the brown-haired Assassin's face that she knew just how much shit her friend had gotten all three of them into.
And by God, I was going to find out how they knew my name, whether they liked it or not.
