"Altaïr, you are a downright disgrace for our creed!" The master of the assassins said slamming his hand on the table before him. Altaïr decided his feet were more interesting to watch than ever.

When their master, Al Mualim, had intervened Altaïr's massacre he had send his assassins to take care of the injured students, and some to literary drag Altaïr inside the fortress to Al Mualim's study room. They heartlessly threw him on the ground there and were dismissed by Al Mualim. Altaïr stood up to his feet, only to get a hand of his master slapped against his cheek, what made him know his place as he bowed his head in shame.

"Not only that, you must be the most arrogant man in whole of Syria. No, probably even the world!"

Al Mualim looked angry at his best assassin, but his scowl wasn't received as Altaïr still hung his head.

Al Mualim sighed.

"Altaïr… You know I must kill you for compromising the brotherhood." Altaïr's head shot up in terror.

"But master I…" Altaïr started, but his pleadings were interrupted by Al Mualim himself.

"Hold your tong, ibn-La'Ahad."

Altaïr looked curiously at his master, who seemed to be overthinking something.

Al Mualim sighed once again and rubbed his hand over his old face.

"Unfortunately, I cannot afford to lose my best assassin." Altaïr grinned and stood tall and proud again, only to sink back to his ashamed pose once more and return to a serious face as Al Mualim looked angry at him as a warning.

"That doesn't mean I will not punish you for this unforgiving event you committed." Now it was Altaïr's turn to sigh.

"Here's the thing. I have a team of assassins leaving Syria tomorrow for a major mission abroad. The master assassin who is accompanying them now has been complaining about the length and the destination of the trip, for he has a family here to take care of." Al Mualim paused to see if Altaïr already got the message, but the assassin just stood there listening interestedly with his head askew like an adorable -but not to forget: deadly- puppy.

"Altaïr, I want you to take this master assassin's place as the leader of the mission," He said finally. "so you might learn what responsibility is."

Altaïr looked at Al Mualim for a long time, letting his words sink into his mind. It was an important mission, that was for sure. And that Al Mualim had enough faith in him that he made him leader of it, showed that the cold master cared about his favourite assassin. Plus, a mission abroad didn't occur much, as the countries surrounding Syria all had their own Assassin's Creeds.

After a long time of just staring at nothing Altaïr shook his head to stop his thinking and he looked at Al Mualim with clear eyes again.

"I accept this mission."

"Arrogant boy, that's the only thing you can do." Al Mualim stated. Altaïr looked embarrassed.

"What is the destination of this mission?" Altaïr quickly added.

"The Colonies."

Altaïr's eyes widened and he had to do his best not to let his mouth hang open.

"That is going to be quite a journey, master." Altaïr could finally bring out.

"And I have faith you will succeed." Al Mualim said with a smile. They looked at each other for a moment, Altaïr's face still showed how shocked he was by the news that he had to leave his homeland Syria tomorrow, and exchange it for another continent. Continent. Of which he knew little than that it was in a constant war with Great Britain and its original inhabitants.

Where Altaïr's face was plain shock, Al Mualim's was one of amusement. For once the so confident and proud master assassin didn't know what to say and looked uncomfortable.

After giving Altaïr time to take in all the information Al Mualim nodded.

"That is arranged, then. The ship which will take you and your eight companions to America will leave tomorrow at sunrise. Be sure to be on time, for you can't afford another error," He gave Altaïr a look of warning, before he added "This is your last chance, Altaïr ibn-La'Ahad."

Altaïr only nodded while mentally preparing himself for a long trip to a foreign land.

"Ah Altaïr, you did show up!" A man came up to Altaïr and smiled friendly at him. "I'm the one who was supposed to lead this mission, I'm very glad you volunteered to do it." He said shaking Altaïr's hand and murmuring a name which Altaïr immediately forgot. So Al Mualim told him I volunteered to make this cursed journey? Altaïr thought to himself as the man let go of his hand.

"First things first: you have 8 assassins in your team. Two elder ones, four around your age and one novice. All are ranked normal assassin, except for the last boy, of course." The man smiled.

"Hold on there, since when does the master send novices on missions like this?" Altaïr asked, clearly not happy to know he'll have to babysit a little boy.

"Well it isn't as if he just learned to use a sword. But he could use some mentoring. It's for him to get some experience." He said apologetically.

Altaïr just sighed as he listened to the rest of the information the other had to tell him.

"Well then, I wish you a good journey and a safe return." The man said finally and shook Altaïr's hand again. "Now I have some business that need my attention urgently. Farewell." And he was off.

Altaïr continued on, backpack on his back, to be stopped once again by a fellow assassin.

"Malik," Altaïr smiled.

Malik Al Sayf was Altaïr's best friend and seriously the only one that could see through his arrogance and pride, and who could live with it. When Altaïr had just become an assassin, he was sent on minor missions together with Malik and they had become friends over time. Having to deal with a stoic, arrogant assassin almost 24/7, Malik had grown used to it. Malik was honestly the only one that could say something insulting to Altaïr without paying a price -like as a broken nose- for it. He could also bring Altaïr back to earth when he was once again showing off his skills or being too arrogant. When Altaïr had become a master assassin they weren't send on missions together anymore. But they still talked every now and then and he knew he could trust Malik blindly. Yes, Altaïr should consider himself lucky with a friend like Malik, but of course Altaïr didn't say that aloud.

"What are you doing here brother?"

Malik's face turned serious after greeting his old friend kindly.

"I just need to know. Are you sure about this mission? Can you handle the responsibility?"

Altaïr was trying to figure out how to tell his best friend that he was forced by Al Mualim to go on this mission as a last chance as a hope for life. Because that was exactly what it was, Altaïr had thought the day before. It's this mission or dying.

"… you never volunteered did you…?" Malik guessed. Damn his friend knew him too well. "Does this has to do with that incident you were involved with yesterday?"

"Malik…" Altaïr tried.

Malik shook his head. "No Altaïr you don't understand. They've put Kadar on this mission."

Altaïr looked confused, to exchange it to anger quickly.

"You don't trust me? Is that it?" Altaïr growled.

"No I don't, to be honest. Just yesterday you almost killed three students. I don't feel very comfortable with leaving my little brother with you now." Malik returned Altaïr's scowl. "And in another country…"

A few seconds passed with the two of them just looking at each other, trying to make the other flinch but none of them succeeded.

Eventually it was Malik who huffed.

"But there is little I can do about it now. There's no way in changing Al Mualim's mind on this mission. I just want you to keep an eye on my brother, please." The last part he added while he turned his gaze to the ground and softening his voice. Altaïr almost felt sorry for his friend.

Altaïr sighed. "Of course I will watch over your brother."

Malik looked up hopefully and smiled. He gave his friend a brotherly hug and closed his eyes. To trust this man with his beloved brother…

They broke apart from the hug and nodded at each other.

"Altaïr."

"Malik."

"Safe journey. May fortune favour your blade."