"Ugh…" I woke up to an awful stench. Wrinkling my nose in disgust, I moaned in pain. Great. Another broken nose. Without opening my eyes, I raised both hands, grasping my nose, and with a sickening crack, put it back in place.
"I was going to mend your nose more gently, there was no need for that." I opened my eyes to see an old man closing a vial containing the awful smelling liquid with a cork. I sat up and looked around. 'Seems like I'm in a medical room of sorts'.
"Who are you?" I asked, accepting the wet rag to wipe the blood off my face.
"My name is Zahir, child. I am the healer. Who are you?"
"I'm Iris." I looked around once more.
"Iris…the master wishes to see you." He turned away.
"The master?" I quirked an eyebrow.
"Yes, yes, yes, go up the stairs into the fortress and up the stairs again." He seemed annoyed. I shrugged and took my back pack from the floor. Taking a deep breath, I started climbing.
I know I passed out because I was hyperventilating. The question is why…
I shielded my eyes from the sudden sun, then I remembered. I tried to stay calm as I passed the oh-so-familiar training grounds of Assassin's Creed. Entering the cool shade of the library, I hurried up the steps. If 'the master' is who I think it is, I don't want to be on the wrong side of his mood. Or blade. Whichever.
"Ah, the strange newcomer." Santa Claus said from behind his desk. I smiled a little at my musings. Santa obviously can't read minds, (coughlastyearcough) so he smiled back. "Come, child, tell me why the men keep telling me you fell from the sky." I stepped to where he pointed, a sign of the Creed, and shifted nervously. "Your clothes are most strange. Tell me, child, where do you come from?"
Oh, shit. I have to think quick. I know I'm not dreaming the broken nose was enough proof of that. I can't tell him I'm from the future, or another dimension, he'd have me killed. Fortunately, my decision is interrupted by none other than the star of this show barging in and swearing loudly.
"What is the meaning of this?" Santa frowned at the hooded man.
"I have failed the mission, Master."
'Hmm,' I think. 'this is not how the dialogue in the game went. Altair was all submissive and everything…' I snort. 'submissive'.
"Who is that, Master?" Altair turned his head sharply to me.
"Oh, I'm nobody, Altair…" I waved my hand dismissively. In a flash, his hidden blade is at my throat.
"How do you know my name?" he growled.
"Now, now, you wouldn't want to hurt an innocent, would you?" I felt a bead of sweat tickle down my forehead and try desperately to keep a calm face. I have the feeling I'm not succeeding.
"Altair!" Santa barked. "She is right! Stop this nonsense and tell me of your mission!" Altair growled threateningly at me, but turned back to his master.
"Master, I'm afraid Malik and Kadar are dead." He started.
"No, they're not." Oops. Me and my big mouth.
"Excuse me?" Altair turned slowly towards me.
"Um…well, Malik just lost an arm…and Kadar's being held captive by the Templars…" I drifted off…damn! How am I going to explain this?
"You speak nonsense!" Altair growled at me. What is he, an animal?
"I do, do I?" I sat sideways on the banister behind me and crossed my arms. "Look behind you."
"Master…" Malik is clutching his bloodied arm while another assassin brings a golden…thing. Altair whirled around to face me.
"How…"
"I'm psychic!" I squeaked before his blade gets to my neck again.
"You're psychic?" Santa looked interested. Altair looked pissed. Oh, shit.
"Yes, but not to everything. Just some very few selected events." I quickly try to shorten my range of 'knowledge'. "Like, how Robert de Sable is going to attack Masyaf in a few momen—"
"Master!" another assassin comes running in. "We are under attack!" I gave Altair my best I-told-you-so look. "Robert de Sable lays siege to Masyaf's village!"
Santa (I have to stop calling him that…) quickly laid out orders while Altair stepped closer to me.
"If you can truly see the future, tell me what the outcome of this battle is." He said lowly. I gulped and stuttered.
"Y-you're going to cut loose some logs, an-and…um…get demoted."
"You lie. I would never get demoted. I'm head assassin." He hissed in my face.
"Well, then I'm not a psychic." I shrugged nervously. I can only see the lower half of his face, and gulped when he grinned. I'd rather have him feeling high and mighty than my guts decorating the walls, thankyouverymuch.
"Altair! Pay attention!" Santa called him. "You, girl, will go with Malik to Zahir." I nodded and followed the blood trail back to the infirmary. Outside, people are already running around like headless chickens. I dashed to the infirmary, where Malik is currently getting his arm clobbered off.
"Girl!" Zahir called to me. "Put something in his mouth so he doesn't bite his tongue off!" I looked around. There are only bloody scraps of cloth lying around. A light bulb goes off in my brain. I quickly toss my backpack down and retrieve my anatomy book. Stupid thick thing finally has a purpose other than pillowing my head in class. I stuck the edge of it in Malik's mouth and watched him bite down hard. A moment later, I hear a thud, and feel blood squirt across my face. Malik screamed around the book and started to flail.
"Ei, ei, ei!" I grabbed his other arm and forced his fingers around mine. He squeezed hard and a tear left his eye. "I know, I know, it'll all be over soon…" I cooed to him. Thank god I volunteered at the hospital back home. I'm in med school, so we have to do these kinds of jobs. I don't like it, because we learn how to operate and stuff on people who don't have enough money to afford a decent doctor. I know how violent people can get, especially if they don't have anesthetics. It's a shame, really, just because they're poor, doesn't mean they don't feel pain…
Anyway! Malik keeps looking at me while Zahir does his magic. Moments later, his eyes start to droop and I removed the book from his mouth. I looked at the teeth marks on the hardcover. Oh, well, at least it's prettier now. I shrugged, tossing it next to my bag and looked back at Malik. I wiped away that one tear that dared to escape.
"I heard what you told master." I stiffened. Great. Now all the assassins will form a line to know their futures. "Do you know of my brother?" he asked.
I take a shaky breath in, shake my head and squeeze his hand. He probably understood, since he squeezed my hand back and looked at the ceiling. I see fresh tears start to form on the corners of his eyes.
"It's okay to cry…" I said softly to him.
"You speak in such a different way." Okay, obvious change of subject… "Where are you from?"
"I…can't say." Let's go with the mystic thing. He nodded.
"Girl!" Zahir yelled over to me. "Keep the patients calm. You obviously have the knowledge to do that." I noticed he is stressed. Many other men are being tended by him. I tagged along the bustling old man and freshened up my memory of what to do with the patients. Soon, the noise outside died down and Zahir finished the last patient.
I dare to venture outside, and see one of my favorite scenes in the game. Altair is being held by two other assassins, and Santa is stabbing him. Aww, I missed the speech. When Altair crumbled to the floor, Santa nodded to me and waved for me to come closer. I looked around. There's no one next to me, so I tilted my head and pointed to my chest in question. He nodded again.
We climb the steps in silence until Santa is behind his desk. I see all of Altair's weapons already on the table.
"So, you demoted him?" I asked.
"You seem to be true to your word, Seer." He picked one of the throwing knives up and inspected it.
"I have a name…" I mumbled, eying the knife warily. "I'm Isis."
"Well, Isis, I suppose you already know what I'm going to do?" Aha. He wants to know if I know he's a Templar. I decided to play dumb.
"You're sending Altair after nine Templars."
"Yes, but what about you?"
"As I said earlier, I can only see very few selected scenes." I wondered if he'd have me killed.
"I think you would do well in the brotherhood." He stroked his beard.
"Aren't women forbidden in the brotherhood?"
"Not one with such powers as yourself…" ew, I feel like a piece of meat, stop staring at me, Santa!
"So…"
"So you will be accompanying Altair in his quest."
I gaped at him.
"What? Are you insane, old man?"
"Still your tongue, child!" he barked at me.
"The heck I will!" I barked right back. "I'm not going to risk my neck for someone who wants to slit it!"
"You will do as I tell you, child, or do you think the rest of the village will see your powers as a gift? They will fear it, and kill you, child." Oh fuck. Great. I depend on freaky Santa now.
"Fine!" I yelled, and whirled around to make my way to the infirmary. Storming past the guards, I startle Malik by barging into the infirmary.
"What happened?" he asked me. I notice he's fine enough to sit already.
"Nothing." I stormed past him and put my book back in my bag.
"I don't believe you." He said. I glared at him. "Tell me."
"Why do you want to know?" I snapped. 'Shut up, Isis, it's not him you're mad at.' Berating myself was never my strong point.
"Because…" he said in the same tone, but then softened it. "You helped many men today, including me." I looked at him from my spot on the floor. "Thank you." He bowed his head slightly.
"S'okay…" I mumbled. I looked down and start rummaging in my bag for something useful. "Aha!" I victoriously held my hairbrush up.
"What is that?" Malik stared at the shockingly orange thing.
"It's a hairbrush." I demonstrate. Ow, knots, ow, ow, ow…
"It looks painful…" he frowned at me. I ignored him and kept rummaging in my bag. Hairband…hairband…yes! I put it in my mouth and started pulling my hair back with the aid of my small brush into a ponytail. Snapping the elastic firmly in place and pushing my bangs to the side and behind my ear, I continued emptying my bag.
"Please stop staring, Malik…" I mumbled, shivering at the feeling of his eyes on me. I hate that. My teacher always does it to me.
"Your hair is so different…" I stifled a chuckle. I suppose that the red hair dye I used was a bit more shocking than I intended. "And the things in your bag…"
I sighed and looked up at him. I handed him the bitten book.
"Here. Have fun."
He looked through the pages.
"I can't understand what's written here."
"Why not?" I continued emptying the books out of my bag. "It's English."
"You speak English?" I paused. Maybe the game is translating everything… "And you can read and write?" oh, shit, yeah, I forgot, the whole 'women are scum' stuff back in this period…damn I need to find some time to think everything straight.
"It's normal where I come from." I stacked the books in a corner and put only my notebook, pencil case, wallet and brush back in my bag.
"And you're not telling me where that is?" Malik looked curiously at the other books. I put the stack on his bed, next to him.
"Sorry, no can do."
"Ugh…" I see a mound of meat stir. I shrieked and fell on my backside. Malik burst out laughing and Zahir came in carrying a tray.
"Finally, you're back. I need to tend to him, please keep him from hitting me."
"I ain't goin' nowhere near that." I pointed to Altair. He might be groggy, but he's not exactly my fan…
"You were strong enough to hold Abbas down, you can hold Altair when he's inebriated, girl…" Zahir began poking a thread through a needle. Well, here goes…
I walk over to Altair's head and look at him upside down. I grin in response to his scowl.
"Hey, handsome." I heard Malik snort behind me. "What? He is…" I laughed. 'Yeah, just keep going like that. Stroke his ego, and keep him from hitting you or Zahir'.
He hissed and I looked up to see Zahir applying what I learned to be a disinfectant. God, the middle ages are worse than the poor's hospital. I pulled his arms back and to the sides. Leaning over him, I rested my hands on his biceps to weigh him down an—oohhh, muuuscllleees… I softly squeeze his arms and let my eyes roam over his bare torso. His chuckle brings me back down from hentai dreamland. He looked up at me with a cocky smirk.
"You keep those breasts on my face and I promise I won't move…"
A loud crunch later, Malik is laughing his other arm off, I have a sore fist, and Zahir is happily sewing away at a broken-nosed Altair. Currently out cold, courtesy of little ol' me.
"Well, they are rathe—"
"One word, Malik. One word about my breasts and you get the same." I held my fist to my stomach and bent over it. "Fuck!" I breathe out.
"He does have a hard head."
"Tell me about it." I wheezed.
"Why de fug did you do dat?" Altair's nosy voice interrupted us.
"What are you doing up? I knocked you out…" I whined, letting Zahir spread a cooling salve on my knuckles.
"You dink a brogen nose will leabe me bassed out for long, girl?" Altair sat up and gingerly touched his face. I sighed and see his side is stitched and wrapped. Go, me!
"Here, let me." I walked over to him and stretched my hands out.
"I'b fine." He turned his head away.
"Of course you are." I pinched the back of his knee and pulled the tendon. Ha. I love doing that. When he snapped his head back to me, I quickly yanked his nose back in place.
Slipping behind Malik and out of the mad-man-in-white's reach, I grinned.
"You both are being called to the Master." Zahir told us while he put his utensils away.
I grumbled at being told to go up and down those steps. I waved goodbye to Malik and told him to keep the books, much to his delight. Altair and I make our way up to Santa. 'You know, I actually think Santa is just a fat, drunk, sad guy who lives in his mom's basement and eats little children…or Michael Jackson…or Orochimaru…or Al Mualim… Hey, it IS Al Mualim!' I gasped audibly at my thoughts. Altair looked back over his shoulder at me. Damn, he has his hood back up and I can't see his face. I hate that.
"What's going to happen now?" he asked, slowing down so that he is no longer walking in front of me, but at my side.
"Oh, so now you want to know?" I replied, crossing my arms.
"Don't mess with me, girl…" he growled. Oh, yay, back to his moody self.
"You get a list of nine men to kill!" I squeaked in fear. He humphed.
We arrive back at the desk, where Santa is looking at us as if he's contemplating which one of us he should eat first. He started his long speech and I drifted off, uninterested, watching a spider make a web. Right there, on that corner. Until I hear my name being called.
"Isis, are you paying attention?" Santa called angrily to me.
"No…" I continued watching the spider.
"Altair, please explain everything again to her…" he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. Altair glared at me and we leave the library. Outside, he turned to me and explained that there has probably been a spy in Masyaf, and blahblahblah…
"…so we need to f—"
"Find the basket weaver." I stated boredly.
"What?"
I sighed as I closed my eyes and remembered my cousin playing the game, over and over again.
"The basket weaver exchanges letters with someone. I don't know the details, I just know you have to pickpocket him."
After a moment of watching me, Altair started walking to the gate. "Alright."
We encountered a novice, and he starts to tell Altair of how the Creed works, and the three laws…
"Oh, for fuck's sake, we know, okay?" I shoved past him and pull Altair's sleeve.
"Thank you for that." He mumbled.
"Oh, he was getting on my nerves anyway…" I waved my hand dismissively. Then my eyes zeroed in on the black and white beads adorning my wrist. "Maybe I should wait inside…" I looked down at my black Nikes, white (but now dirty) jeans, and washed black T-shirt.
"You do stand out." Altair took one of my bracelets and pulled it. The elastic band with beads rolled off my wrist and snapped on his fingers. "Ow." He let it fall. I snorted and picked it up again.
"Go pickpocket the basket weaver, then you have to interrogate someone." I turned back to the fortress.
"No more help than that?" Altair waved his arms around.
"Sorry, I'm still mad at you." I shrugged and jogged away before he can answer. I sprinted up the steps back to Santa, and dodged a scroll thrown at my head.
"What are you doing here?" he frowned at me.
"Nice to see you too!" I put the scroll on his desk. "I need new clothes." I gestured to myself.
"Go see the women." He said dismissively. A servant comes and motions for me to follow him. I do, and he leads me to the pretty garden. I stared absentmindedly at the falling feathers and the twinkly things. I grab one, and see it's a seed, and that its oily skin reflects the sun. The servant clears his throat and I continue following him to the other side of the garden. Many women surround me as the servant explains what Al Mualim sent us for. They quickly pulled me to another room and start throwing robes on top of my clothes and yanking them off, and sewing, then putting them on me again, then—ohh, my head.
In an instant, I am pushed outside with a custom made robe in my arms.
"Huh." I unfolded it and pulled it over my head. The servant hands me a red cloth and a belt. He bows and leaves me alone. I carry the things to a bench and slowly figure out how to dress in them. I heard a door squeak and turned around to find a woman walking towards me.
"I'm sorry, my sisters were a little afraid of you. I can help." She pointed to the messy red around my waist.
"Yes, please." I laughed. "Why were they afraid?" I held my arms out as she tied the cloth around my waist properly.
"I heard them saying you were a witch." She laughed. "Nonsense."
I looked up to one of the fortress' windows and see Al Mualim watching us.
"Yeah…nonsense…"
"My name is Ghada, by the way."
"What? Oh! I'm Isis." I smiled as Ghada steps back from me and looked at my outfit. My white jeans don't look so out of place with the assassin robes, and my dirty Nikes look like boots anyway, so I guess I can walk around unnoticed now. We say goodbye and I entered the library, to encounter Altair dragging a man up the stairs.
"Thanks for the tip." He huffed as I walked alongside him.
"No problem."
Santa once again goes on and on and on and on, until he shuts up and kills the guy. I wrinkle my nose in disgust. I'm used to seeing blood, having worked with the most coldblooded doctors on earth, but still, seeing someone be killed…that's just not my thing…
The list is given, and we take proviant from the kitchens for the ride to Damascus to kill Tamir.
"Can you ride?" Altair asked me as we made our way to the stables.
"Yes." I replied curtly. I'm still not keen on having to go with him. At least things will go faster, now that I'm here, and I can shorten the game. But, then again, there is the unfortunate addition of real timeflow. Damn.
"How long does it take to get to Damascus?" I asked.
"About two days."
I groaned and thumped my head against a white horse's neck. It neighed unappreciatively.
"Why?" Altair saddled it.
"I get bored easily." I waved him away when he comes closer, probably trying to help me on the horse. I clumsily do it myself. He snorted.
"Perfect." He crossed his arms over his chest. "Now get down, that's my horse."
"And now it's mine."
I screamed when he pulled my leg, making me fall. He jumped on 'his' horse and chuckled. I grumbled as I chose another one and picked the softest looking saddle I could find.
"You're not actually riding that horse, are you?" he pointed to the black one I chose.
"I was gonna…" I put the saddle on said horse's back. It snorted. "Why?"
"Because that's Al Mualim's horse."
"Ohhh…" I quickly changed my mind and put the saddle instead on another horse.
"That's Abbas' horse." I can just hear the grin in his voice.
I take a deep breath in, hold it for five seconds, and breathe slowly out.
"Then which horse do you suggest?"
He pointed to a white mare in the corner. After I correctly put the saddle in place (with a few instructions from Altair), I put my foot in the stirrup.
It's actually not so hard, you just have to remember western movies!
"Pull your hood up." Altair said while he trots away.
"Pull your hood up…" I mimicked, following him.