Disclaimer: I don't own Assassin's Creed.


Warning: Not only is this self-beta'd but it also probably not culturally correct. Hey, it's an AU I make the rules.


Test my reality,
Check if there's a weak spot,
Clingin' to insanity,
Hopes the world will ease up.

Try and make it look like it's all somehow getting better,
'Cause I know how to play it pretty good against the measure.
Everyone started out a little insane,
But we learn pretty quick how to fake it for the game,
But some of you never learned to drop the act,
So under that skin of yours: a heart attack.

'Cause everybody's so scared,
We don't want to go there,
We don't wanna make a move,
We got our lives to lose,
Screaming in the dark while we just play our part,
I'll play right along,
Like I don't know what's going on.

"Make a Move" by: Icon for Hire

^^^This song – check it out!


Chapter One: Out of the Shadows

3rd person POV

The sound of thundering hoofs caused the locals on the outskirts of town to look up wearily; there weren't many new people coming into town since the impending war in surrounding countries. It was a small civilization on the outskirts of a big city. There, the people lived in peace; perfectly comfortable in their blissful and ignorant space. There, crime was rare, they were ruled fairly, and tragedy rarely struck. Everybody knew each other. There were no secrets.

Everything was how it was supposed to be.

It was evening when the four men galloped into the town before skidding to a halt on sweat-ridden horses. Each wore a cloak that hid their faces, armor that was of foreign make, and were covered in weapons that gleamed in the light. The sunset over the mountains casted tall shadows of the men and steeds over disoriented and confused people.

There was no doubt in any person's mind: they were Assassins.

They were people who were rarely –if ever- seen outside of their fort. The people of the small town tended to look the other way when the secluded Assassins that lived in the area did their job. The Assassins went against what the people stood for, but mere civilians didn't dare stop them. Hesitantly, they accepted that the robed people were the keepers of balance, peace, and the protectors of the town, though their methods were looked down upon highly. Though, to see so many at once out in the open was something that never happened before.

Mothers pushed their children behind them. Fathers stepped up to protect their loved ones wearily.

The Assassins meant war; something none of the civilians believed in.

The four hooded men dismounted their high-strung steeds with a deadly and almost unnatural grace. All the people in the town shuffled uneasily. The oldest one strode forward confidently towards the largest man in town. Even though the larger man towered over the elder, he still seemed frightened. They spoke silently for a moment before talking to a younger girl beside him in hushed and hurried tones.

She nodded vigorously for a moment before taking off around the corner carrying a message. The second she disappeared, all was silent again.

Some time passed and in that space, the villagers gave the four travelers what extra rations they had. The girl returned a little while later, assisting an elderly man against him. The elderly man broke away from her once he saw the Assassins and instead decided to hobble his way towards them on his own.

Now the two elders spoke in hushed tones.

Suddenly, the village elder straightened and put his fingers to his lips; a piercing whistle carried through the evening air with a practiced accuracy. Not one moment later, a shadow stepped out of an alleyway, shadows rolled away from him like water off a waterfowl's back, into the scene before him. The fifth hooded figure bowed to the Assassins and then the elder before motioning for the Assassins to follow him. The horses were left in the small village – one of the civilians would take care of them with the upmost care before bringing them to the Assassin's stables.

The five Assassins melded back into the shadows like ghosts before starting farther South into the base of the mountains. Slowly, the buildings became closer together and they were in the populated city. There, paper lights hung high on beams and the nightlife was active and energetic. Woman moved freely in dresses that allowed their hair and faces to show. All had angular features and dark skin like their relatives up North. Numerous guards stood on various street corners; enforcing what rules needed enforcing, but generally lenient. Together, they all moved to a more heavily guarded part of town where the guards were sharper, harsher, and more diligent – especially towards Assassins. Suddenly, the Assassin leading the group darted forward and up a wall into a pavilion, signaling for the others to follow. There was a commotion below:

People were screaming. The guards were running towards the madness instead away with their swords and bows drawn. There was chaos; people stampeding through the streets and into the alleyway the group Assassins had resided not moments before. Panic was in everybody's eyes and sound of hooves clattering skittishly across the ground did not help to calm anybody.

It was the sound of an Assassination.

Another Assassin landed almost silently next to the group of five and stared at the scene. Guards were searching for the hooded figure on the ground and on the rooftops. Crouching on the edge of the balcony area, the young Assassin efficiently takes in all the details of the area in the retreating sunlight. Swinging around, the newest Assassin's elbow accidently knocks straight into the youngest Assassin's face, causing him to yelp and push the Assassin off the edge of the balcony onto the steeply slanted tiles.

The Assassin attempts to catch itself on one of the shingles or the edge, but instead falls two stories onto the street with an ungraceful 'thud'. A sharp guard hears the noise immediately and points it out to all the others. Quickly, the Assassin pulls out its sword and gets to work fighting against the small group of guards.

Up on the balcony, Malik reaches for his dagger and moves to help the other Assassin on the ground. The Assassin that had been leading him puts his hand on the other's shoulders and says one simple word:

"No."

With a deep release of breath, Malik sheathes his dagger and steps back to watch the scene in front of him unfurl on the sidelines.

The Assassin on the ground is hacking away at the guards with a wild grace. All of the Assassin's movements are of a dancer's; as if putting on a performance for a crowd instead of a fighting for another day living. However, the Assassin didn't notice one of the guards break off from the group and take off running back around the corner. Just as the last soldier fell to the Assassin's fast blade, the last soldier disappeared from sight.

With an Assassin's intuition, the Assassin took off blindly after the soldier, only to quickly turn heel and lunging up the building across the balcony. A group of horses and riders round the corner at breakneck speeds; practically trampling the Assassin; in the middle of them is a wiry man with extravagant robes swirling around him, surrounding him are the city's best guards. They all push their horses as fast as possible in the straight away. None of them see the Assassin striding easily above them; freerunning across the rooftops parallel to the horses. None of them see the slight glint of a dagger in the fading light. None of them see as the figure jumps off the roof straight onto the horse in the middle of the herd.

None of them see the dagger plunge into the rich man's heart.

None of them see the Assassin – Until it was too late, of course.

They could only watch in shock as the Assassin bounded across another horse and up onto the building before sprinting across the skyline into the sunset. The group watching was silent; each taking in what just happened.

It was the Assassin that led them to the balcony that recovered first. He jumped over the edge and onto the street a few minutes later. The group of Assassins begrudgingly followed; blending back into the dark and heading onto the outskirts of the other side of town: closer to the bureau. The people thinned out and a lull soon surrounded the area, giving a sense of power that came with the presence of most Assassins.

Sitting casually on the ground, picking flowers and braiding them into a simple wreath was the Assassin from earlier.

For the second time that night, the leading Assassin spoke, "Anima," he addressed the Assassin formally. The Assassin looked up from the flowers but didn't move, so the man continued, "We saw your Assassination tonight, you did well. Master will be content with your work." After finishing his sentence, he stepped forward and removed his hood revealing a man in his early twenties with light brown hair and dark eyes.

The sitting Assassin rose too and mimicked the man's actions; revealing her face.

The group of men from the North gasped in shock.

The Assassin was clearly female with Swedish blonde hair, pale grey eyes, fair skin, rounded and delicate facial features, and a petite stature – she had looked taller from far away.

"What is the meaning of this?" Altaïr snarled.

The young man cautiously glanced at the tall and muscular Assassin, "This is one of our Assassins, Anima."

The young girl bowed her head in respect before directly meeting Al Mualim's eyes, "Pleased to make the acquaintance. Master spoke highly of you and all of us were anticipating your visit. I'm sorry for catching you unaware of my… status." She chose her words carefully; grey eyes flickering uneasily between the seething Assassins.

The young man stepped up and cleared his throat, "And you may call me Raan*." Slowly, the visiting Assassins dragged their eyes from the small girl and acknowledged the other.

Anima turned towards the old path at the base of the mountain and started walking. After moving a couple steps she called over her shoulder, "Come, it's getting late and I'm sure you are hungry and tired. I know that I am." She smiled slightly before continuing up the road, not waiting for any reply.

Sure enough, they followed.


A/N: So? Too long or too short? (heh, heh) Critiques would be nice. Thank you for your support!

*Raan pronounced: Ron