His first impression of Ezio was 'This man is an idiot! If he wanted to act like an Assassin then he shouldn't have screamed at me or put his hands in the air!' He thought bitterly as Ezio was explaining all about how he, Altaïr, changed the Brotherhood from the little things to how he forced everyone out of Masyaf for safety. At first he absorbed this like the ego maniac but later he just wanted peace and quiet! Altaïr poured over the options he had to get home from dumping this coward and go look for directions home, stay with him until they get directions, or just walk it out. His forehead felt pain for furrowing his brows over what felt like an hour trying to figure out what to do. His boots resounded soft pats on the ground while Ezio's leather boots, with golden buckles clomped down on the glass surface noisily. Altaïr couldn't hear anything except for his thoughts and didn't notice that Ezio stopped walking beside him.
Ezio let his hood down. He swore he saw something float downwards onto the surface over twenty feet away from his and Altaïr's location. He turned and saw what looked like a grey blur lying on its side as though a wounded animal may lie if it has no more strength to go on.
"Hey Altaïr! Come here for a minute!" He waited but the sounds of feet seemed to get farther and farther away.
"Altaïr?" No rich accent to his reply ever came. Ezio turned to face Altaïr but saw that the other Assassin had walked a good mile. He ran towards Altaïr with great speed. He had always been a good sprinter since he ran through Firenze as a kid and on top of buildings for most of his life. A life that had no enemies, no worries, and a carefree life that now turned into an Assassin life. He gripped Altaïr's robe tightly, feeling the rough fabric itch his fair skin. His first thing that came out of his mouth was something he didn't mean to say.
"How can you stand this? It feels like an uncomfortable material!"
Altaïr snapped and managed to grab his throat hard, lifting Ezio off the ground, noticing how incredibly light he is.
"If you dare ask that again I won't hesitate to kill you!" he hissed, watching as Ezio desperately grasped his hand, scratching and clawing his way to get away or to get air. One of the two. He let go, watching as the Italian fell to his knees getting his air back.
"That's…not what… (Gasp) I... (Cough) was…going…to ask! I wanted to have you come over to where I saw something." Altaïr's ear perked at Ezio's gasping words. There was something he spotted? Could it actually help him get back to Malik and his other comrades?
"Well then let's go." Altaïr wanted to start to wherever Ezio had claimed to see but obviously he needed him to point out the object. So he had to watch the Italian pant like a dog as he was still catching his breath.
'I guess I squeezed too hard.' Altaïr gazed down at his temporary comrade and Ezio finally stood, rubbing his neck.
"I have to admit, that's one tough grip you got there! I thought you were literally going to kill me there!" He chuckled nervously. Even though Altaïr was the greatest Assassin there'll ever be, he had to be careful. He didn't want to die at the hands of the great Mentore before he killed his father's and brother's murderer whom he realized was Rodrigo Borgia.
He flinched at the memory that the Spaniard was at his Uberto Alberti house delivering the letter to set them free but it had back fired as they were hung. Ezio vowed revenge and so far, he is successfully getting it done but he was so close to getting the Borgia until he ended up here. He gathered his sorrow and corked the bottle, walking stiffly back to the grey figure he spotted. Altaïr followed silently behind, hoping that this was going to get him back to Masyaf. Ezio and Altaïr made their way in silence as they approached realizing that the grey figure was a man. Ezio felt somewhat of worry in his heart about this man. He seemed oddly familiar in what way, he couldn't tell. He hurried himself over to the man raising an eyebrow at the attire.
In our eyes it was a white sweatshirt with red lining, blue jeans, a grey backpack that went over one shoulder, and worn out sneakers. To the other two Assassins' however, this was totally new to them.
"What kind of an Assassin where's this short of a robe?" Ezio asked, taking the hood off the man's head, seeing the face. He represented Altaïr a bit but yet the other facial features suggested that this man was different. He lifted the man up and shook him gently; trying to wake him if indeed he was alive. Altaïr watched in silence, questioning the Italian's method of waking someone up.
"You treat this man as though he was a child," Altaïr pointed his voice as cold as the bitterest snow storm in the world. Ezio held his breath as Altaïr closed the gap between them, cupping the man's chin. He tilted the head from side to side and did see a surprising resemblance to himself, the shape of the face matched his own in a mirror and there was a scar on the right side of his lip. He glanced over to Ezio who did too have the same scar.
'This couldn't have been mere coincidence.' He opened the eyelid and saw a rolled back eye which didn't surprise him in the most.
Ezio held his breath, his heart rate increasing every time Altaïr examined the unconscious male. He already had a taste of his fury but that was only a sliver of what Altaïr truly had. Already just by his attitude and body language, he figured that the Syrian was a man full of anger, hate, and something mysterious imbedded within his history. He probably hid it because he didn't want to look weak but in turn it had turned Altaïr's heart into a dark abyss that you would've get stuck in if your ship got destroyed, along with not being the best swimmer. He was actually terrified of water from an earlier age but that is a different story. For now, his memories were sealed away along with his heart. It may take all eternity to figure him out just like Ezio is trying to do right now.
Ezio was terrified as Altaïr stood up, concluding his examination on the stranger. At first, the Italian was examining Altaïr like a still cat in a certain position determining whether they were going to attack you or not. Suddenly with a swift kick, Altaïr foot connected with the stranger's gut. Unfortunately, nothing happened.
"Is he-?" Ezio started but Altaïr snapped as loud and swiftly like cannon fire.
"No he's not dead! If he was he would-"
Suddenly the man sat up and screamed his lungs out, making Ezio recoil from the sound in his ears. Altaïr was caught off guard for he jumped backwards but failed to land correctly and hit the ground with a resounding thunk. The man screamed and screamed, writhing on the floor in convulsions. He spat up blood and laid there, his golden eyes all blood shot with dilated pupils.
"OH MY GOD! WHAT DO WE DO?!" The Italian shrieked, panicking as the man took shorter and raspier breaths as he flopped like a fish out of water. Both the Assassins didn't know what to make of this man until the ring finger caught Ezio's eye and he noticed it was the same emblem that was branded into the Italian's flesh.
It was like a brand but to us it's tattoo ink but to Ezio it was a brand that never scorched your skin.
"Uh Altair?" The man gave him an irritated gaze and Ezio continued, "This guy's an Assassin too!"
Hey guys! Sorry if this chapter was short but please read and review for the benefits of future stories! Oh also, I will include Connor but I've got make him come in at an "appropriate" time! Hope you enjoyed! Love from The Cherryblossom Tree. 3s
