The Library

When he came to, the first thing that came to his mind was a realization of misplacement. He didn't feel any after shock of pain, though earlier he had felt like the life was being sucked out of him. And really, that was exactly what had happened. To think he had believed Juno when she said there wasn't going to be any pain, really. But why was he lacking any conflicted feeling? No anger, regret, sadness, anxiety, or grief. Or rather... what did he feel?

Oddly, he felt calm. Elevated. And most surreal of all, blissful.

With astonishingly little confusion, Desmond got up. And for the first time in a long while didn't feel any back pain like he had whenever he was laid down on the Animus for certain amounts of time. Quickly, too. His entire body felt inhumanly nible, even more than the Animus' programmed training had allowed him to feel. His manner of thinking less stressed and more content. But he was curious as to what was going on, so the young man took notice of his surroundings.

From the bookshelves that instantly greeted his bearings, he summed up that he was in a library. A very ... unique library.

Unlike most libraries (well, the few he had visited both in real life and during his Animus sessions), this one was not only massive. No matter what direction he looked, he couldn't find any back wall nor did it seem to have a ceiling, but it didn't look or feel like he was outside. The place was well-lit, but not lit by sunlight. But it did feel welcoming, inviting him to have a look around and borrow a book or two.

His eyes then went to the bookshelves. Hundreds upon hundreds of bookshelves all around the place. And as he walked about the aisles, it looked like they were lined up to create interesections, like the streets of a city. Lined up, but not stacked close to each other, giving enough space to allow passage through every collection of shelves, like an extra room. Perhaps they represented the different uses of those books, like the Dewey Decimal System. And in those bookshelves were books filling up every space, no one book looking like the other. One book was really a scroll, another looked like it held old parchment than paper and, to his surpise, there were even electronic tablets in the bunch!

"What the heck is this place?", the first thing that came out of his mouth since waking up: a question. It slurred, but a question still. And as if on cue, he stopped as something came into view from the corner of his eye.

A figure appeared on the left aisle of the interesection, facing a bookshelf a few feet meters from where Desmond was. Surprise painted his face at seeing another person in the seemingly sparse library. He couldn't tell whether it was a man or a woman, for the person was wearing a kind of scholar's robe, the white glistening fabric reaching just above the ankles and the hood doming over the head. And the height and built was just about young adult in size. The person was enjoying one of the books - it looked like a paperback, the size of a Stephen King novel -, but then immediately putting back the book to reach for an old leather-bound one.

The young man couldn't make up his mind on whether to go up to the figure and ask questions or to stay clear of him or her, not exactly thinking of the person as a threat, but because he didn't want to disturb them from their book-skimming. He was getting more compelled to do the former, though. Slowly, he walked towards the person. Just as he was only a meter away...

"Ah. You finally found me, then."

Desmond froze. The voice was male, the accent faguely familiar. And judging from the tone, the man was expecting him. But it was only when the other turned around that he he was close to an answer.

The man gingerly pulled back the hood, revealing a cropped haircut and a well-defined jawline. His face underneath the hood was young but tired, semetic but not exotic-looking, with eyes that penetrated Desmond's soul with fond knowledge and appreciation.

Why did they have that penetration?

It took a moment for him to speak up. "Wait. How did you know I was ... Do I know you?", he replaced the first question he wanted to ask with another.

The expression the other man held was between amusement and sighing. Shaking his head, walking towards Desmond. His height was only slightly below his, but up close he could have a better look at the man's face. The other then said with some humour, "Really? After all your time playing time traveller in the Animus, you don't immediately recognize me?"

"W-wait." Desmond stammered out after getting over the slight shock. "How did you know about the Animus?" He demanded, but not with the usual anger he had before. The want to know was still there, as his volume spoke urgently. "Just...who are you?"

The quiet that came afterwards was unnerving. He felt like he had just disturbed the aura of the place with his brash inquiry. The other man, on the other hand, only stood still, like he was waiting for something. Then, with a snap of his fingers and an 'I got it!', he grabbed Desmond's left hand and placed the fingers near the top lip.

"W-W-What the-!"

Taken aback, Desmond tried to pull his hand back, but the stranger had a firm grasp on it, keeping it align his mouth, then spoke. "Just trace your finger from here and down." And firmer, he looked at the confused man's eyes and said, "Trust me."

The look he gave Desmond was authorizing, but much like that of a father. Trust...

Relunctantly, he moved an index finger over the lips until it settled at the bottom near the chin. The minute he removed the finger, though, a shining line started glowing from where his finger had roamed. When the light had diminished, the other man let go of his hand, took a step back and smiled. "Now, try to remember."

That one little line started it all. Because it wasn't a line. It was a scar. A blade scar, one he himself had and it all came back to him.

His first Animus sessions. The feel of the Levatine sun. The clashing of swords and hidden blades. The Assassin beaurue. The library that was no longer filled with books. And the old man, sitting on the chair with the Apple of Eden in his hand, waiting for death, his final work done.

Recognition finally showing itself, the other man's smile gleamed even more as Desmond uttered the name with such reassurance.

"Altair.


Interlude

The van was moving at a fast enough speed that they weren't skidging about the forest uncontrollably while driving away from the Temple. The solar flare was going to happen any minute now and they had to cover as much distance as the van would suffice them with.

Shaun's iron grip on the steering wheel was whitneing his knuckles. Bloody hell, why? Why did this have to happen like it did?

Yes, they had succeeded in solving the mystery of Those Who Came Before, that they were able to complete everything in time for the Temple to manipulate the impact of the flare to prevent an apocalypse. But at a price that they almost couldn't comprehend. And now, they were only three, running away because Desmond insisted upon it while he offered himself like a patient lamb for the slaughterhouse to Juno's twisted intentions.

Bollocks, the whole mess of it.

"The energy signal is getting more unstable!" He heard Rebecca exclaim frantically. From the corner of his eye, he could see that she was reading the current seismic frequency of the Earth. "I'm not sure just how far we need to be to avoid the impact-"

A sudden curve on the road forced him to make a hard left, causing Rebecca and William to bump hard onto the van's side. As they recovered, he gave a hurried apology as he steadied the vehicle into a straight path once again.

William then grabbed both of the seats to sit up. "We can calculate the frequencies later. Right now, we have to keep our distance. There's no telling on the amount of aftershocks we'll be experiencing when it happens."

Nodding, the Englishman went back to my driving, but the current scenery that welcomed us made me say, "Which I believe is sooner than we think." He indicated to the front view, then went to park the car near a clearing and hit the breaks. His attention went back to the others, who were just as mesmerized as he was by what was infront of them.

Green lights, emitting from beneath the ground and within the atmosphere. What was once dark nighttime was now plundged into a veridian radiance, the entire scene a close-up of the Northern lights right where they were parked. It was the most captivating display of energy they had witnessed since Desmond (as Ezio Auditore) had found the Grand Temple in the Vatican.

"It works...", was all he could say. No witty comment of any sort about how Juno was actually true to her word: that the purpose of the Temple are functioning and Desmond's sacrifice wasn't wasted. For a minute, they all felt like a storm was almost through its passing.

But any form of celebration or condolence were shoved out the door as a sudden rumbling came. The van started rattling with the earth's shaking, the movements sensed even through the upholstry of the driver's seat. It must've been the result of the Temple working against the diabolic fury of the solar flare. It was causing the earth's seismic pattern to go haywire and more the anything, the aftershock is te fiercest at where they are, being closer to the Temple.

As he looked up, William's expression was almost wild, but he had enough instict to hold him and Rebecca by the shoulders and force them to bend over. "Everyone, brace yourselves!"

It might have only been a moment or perhaps several minutes. They couldn't tell as the van shook but miraculously didn't topple over. As they sat there, trying to keep their bearings as the world's spasm continued, very little thought processed through Shaun's mind.

But this was better than being roasted. That much he gave thought for.


Meeting The First

He couldn't believe it. Didn't know if he wanted to or should. Maybe this was all in his head, like when the others had plugged him into the Animus. But something was tugging deep inside to tell him that this was all happening, whether or not it was all inside his head. He felt so confirmed by that somehow.

The man whom he identified as Altair ibn La'Ahad took his realization in with an air of satisfaction. "Come." He let go of Desmond's hand and made to turn and walk along the aisle, indicating for him to follow. "Walk with me."

He obeyed and they made their way alongside the bookshelves. They kept going about, turning at every intersection they met and occasionally, Altair took a book or two from the shelves and carried them while leading Desmond.

After a few more paces, the latter's curiousity urged him to ask, "So... this library. It's huge." Huge didn't even begin to describe it. It was endless. "Is this like your library back in Maysaf?" It had only occured to it now, but he had remembered the stack of empty bookshelves, which were a disturbing difference actually to the abundancy of reading material the library they currently were in was.

Altair nodded at the statement. "Yes. This is a special place, and not just for me. And just like that library, this one is filled with invaluable knowledge." He was quickly skimming through one recently worn book before closing it and offering it to the American. "Go on. Have a look for yourself."

With surprisingly minimal hesitation, Desmond took the book. He and Altair had to stop their walk so he could get a good read from the item. First glancing at the expectant once-Master Assassin. "Alright.", he said flatly before opening the book.

A wave of exhilaration washed over him. As if on a synchonized fast forward mode, he was witnessing in his head all sorts of scenarios from point of view of a person he has never seen before, but oddly felt accostumed to. First was the birthing of the man, then the awkward coming of years, the marriage that would soon be withered by his recruitment. And lastly, the face of his enemy as they battled to the death, not realizing the bomb that would go off soon to innitiate their deaths.

It wasn't shown in that order but he was overwhelmed by all this information being transported into his mind, as clear as if he was there. But it was too much. Too detailed and close to home even though it he didn't want it to be. With a great amount of effort, he quickly closed the book.

He expected to be mentally exhausted or scarred by that experience, but only felt reflective. After clearing his mind for a moment, he turned questioningly at Altair. "What...what did I just saw...in this book?" The shock was still present, if his voice was any indicator to it. immediately he gave the book back to Altair, who only hummed in thought at his mental russ.

The other man took back the book and put it on the same shelf he had pulled it out from before turning back to Desmond and spoke, "The man who's life you had witnessed is a young soldier recruited to fight in the Vietnamese War. These books,", he raised what looked like an electronic tablet as a bizzare example, "all tell the stories of those who had ever lived for any amount of time in the material world. And like any reader interested in stories, I come back here many times to try to understand the enigmatic occurance called living." He paused to start walking again, urging Desmond to follow. "And that is why you were first dropped off here."

He followed again once more, intrigued by what the other man was saying, however fague it seemed. Thinking about his next question, he then carefilly said, "'First dropped off'? You mean this isn't my last destination?"

"No, it will not be your last." Altair dictated knowingly. "There is no limitation when it comes to figuring out one's self. Which is what I'm going to be helping you with."

That threw Desmond off. "Help me figure out what?"

A robed arm shot up to tenderly hold onto his shoulder, squeezing comfortly as Altair spoke again. "Figure out why your life was what it was."


Author's note: Phew! Finally got to doing a chapter for this! Since I've finished one chapter for Dial-Up Assassin ahead of time, I decided to quickly (relative to how long my chapters usually are) finish chapter 1 for this.

Also, I've made this to indicated the events after AC 3 and during the modern events in AC 4 (but nothing too invovled with AC 4, since I neither want to give away too much for everyone nor spoil myself.), so the In. As for where Desmond is, it's kind of an astral reality to that of the material (living) reality, which intersect each other, but the atral reality has no chronological bounds and is sujected to the preference of the soul and not the carnage intentions of the physical body (I really hope I can sum that up in later chapters, but oh well.)

Next update: Febuary 16-22 (I want to give myself lots of time while complete chapter 4 of Dial-Up Assassin and putting together the events of the next chapters to this one. Also, because reading during the weekends is nice, so yes. Scheduled there. XDD)

Review and suggestions are welcome! Bye!

~Itchy