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Outside the hidden sanctuary, Cairo let out a breath of air, leaning heavily against the wall. How did he get himself into these situations? Being stuck with another Assassin? And this one will surely start to ask questions. After all, who wouldn't?

But there was another thing weighing heavily on his mind.

He knew what Al Mualim told Altaïr before they left. It was obvious that he warned the disgraced Assassin of his apparent disregard for the Creed, which in fact was not true. Al Mualim was the only one he despised. Al Mualim was the only one he could never trust. Cairo knew the truth about the old man yet could never reveal it. Who would believe him? The "wise" old man of the Brotherhood certainly trumped the murderous and antisocial Master Assassin, in terms of rank and trust amongst the Brothers.

However, he could not be bothered. He had more important things to do. Cairo looked around at the small courtyard he found himself once he left his sanctuary, then towards the position of the sun. It was still relatively early in the afternoon; the markets would be bustling still. He wasn't joking when he said he had to get more materials. With a tired sigh, Cairo pushed himself off the wall and began to make his way to the market, fixing his hood.

Unfortunately, Cairo was not able to notice the bulking shadow following him through the alleys, lost in his thoughts as he was. It was only when the shadow made the mistake of taking a single step too close that Cairo lifted his head. But it was too late. Just as he started to turn around, a heavy, blunt object landed on the back of his head.

Cairo's world went to the darkness.

It was dark. It was cold. Those were the first things that Cairo noticed as he started to become aware. Then, there was something cold and heavy weighing own around his wrists and ankles. Shackles, strong ones. They seemed to learn to not leave him without heavy restraints then. With a groan, Cairo's eyes fluttered open. He was relieved to see that his mask was still in place. He could feel the inner fabric lining. It was cool on his skin.

With some effort, Cairo was able to get into a sitting position on the cot of the cell he was being held in. There wasn't much to see, it was similar to the one that he was in the last time he was here. Looking down at his wrists, he noticed that the shackles were steel this time, not iron. They really did all that they could to make sure he didn't get away this time… But it wasn't enough. It was never enough. This time, the shackles were made too large to be able to hold him secure.

Bringing his hands up, Cairo was able to pull off the leather gloves with his teeth by nudging the mask up. Once they were off, he replaced the mask to its proper position. Using the minimal light offered through the small barred window along the wall next to him, Cairo assessed the worn leather and huffed. He would have to get new ones soon, he could see the beginnings of a hole being formed at the junction of the thumb and index finger. The gloves were thick enough to not let a lot of damage hit the skin but thin enough for him to feel and hold things with ease. Without the gloves on, Cairo was able to slip his hands from the shackles with slight twisting movements of his wrists.

He then tucked the removed gloves into one of the many secret pockets that were in his robes. Quickly, Cairo assessed the rest of his person. He noticed that the only weapon that was taken away was his sword, which was getting dull and old anyway. He was going to get rid of it soon enough, might as well do it now. All his other hidden weapons were still in their proper places, especially the hidden blades.

The clanking of the cell door being pulled open brought Cairo's gaze to the new arrival of the guards… Templar guards. The scowl that appeared on Cairo's face went unnoticed behind the mask, but the supreme hatred he felt rolled off of him all-too noticeable waves.

The guards grabbed a heavy chain from the wall and pulled back the hood of Cairo's robes, allowing his freed hair to fall down his back. Cairo fought the urge to pout. He really liked the leather thong he had used to hold his hair back. It was relatively new too. They thankfully left the mask, no doubt wanting to remove it at the public execution.

He knew that's where they were taking him. They have wanted him dead for a long time, not just because of his Assassin status, but because of how hard he was to catch. It was aggravating to them how easily he got away each time. To Cairo, it had become a game of some sort. But not only that, these idiots never seemed to know how to shut their damn mouths around him. It's a wonder that they haven't figured out that their gossiping has helped Cairo succeed in his tasks.

Staying silent as the guards jeered and threw insults at him, Cairo felt the chain wrapping tightly around his neck. He stayed quiet, listening keenly for any information about the new target.

As he was being led to the execution grounds, he was not disappointed.

Altaïr looked around the top floor. If he thought that the bottom floor was lavishly decorated, he was completely mistaken. This… Was the most richly decorated place he had ever seen. Emblems of the Brotherhood were everywhere; hidden within battle scene tapestries, in paintings on the wall, carvings in the wood and stone of the floor and walls. Beautiful floor pillows were neatly arranged in a living area around a hookah, and along the walls. There was a fire pit in the middle of the room, which still had smoldering embers and smoke coming from it.

However, the only place that was not neat was the desk in the back of the room and what looked like a closet. The desk was a mess itself, covered in scrolls and parchment, along with charcoal, wax sticks, and ink. Altaïr went over and cautiously looked at what the scrolls contained. Most were in a different language, one that he could not understand and then there were drawings that resembled the hidden blade and other pieces of small weaponry. One in particular looked strange – a hollowed out blade but he could not figure out what it was.

Altaïr could not make sense of what he was looking at and could not understand what the words were. He knew it was a different language, but he only knew Arabic and some English.

He then walked over to the closet, which looked as though it was ransacked. Altaïr kneeled down next to the clothes and noticed a long, white piece of fabric underneath the other clothes. That's what he noticed the most. Carefully, Altaïr tugged out the fabric and noticed multiple red-brown spots and stains on it. Blood.

He broke from his thoughts when he noticed sunlight beginning to filter into the room. Looking up at a small window, he noticed the sky beginning to lighten up. He could leave.

Forgetting the bloodstained cloth, he hurried down the ladder and to the door. This time, he had more success at opening it, since it slid open easily this time. If Altaïr was being honest with himself, he would continue to think this place is stranger than Cairo himself.

Altaïr carefully made his way up the steps, occasionally stumbling on those that were crumbling apart. This place was honestly a death trap.

The sun was blinding when he finally got out of the hidden sanctuary, despite it only just beginning to come up. But that was the least of his problems.

Cairo had not come back and Altaïr had no clue as to where the Assassin could be. He was actually getting to be slightly worried.

There was something off about the atmosphere of the city, it seemed livelier than it had when the two arrived. And something in his gut told him that it wasn't anything good.

Altaïr wandered out of the alley and into the bustling streets, listening for any indication of where the missing Assassin could be or what could have happened to liven up Acre. He did not know what he was expecting, but he knew that he was not expecting hearing about an execution. Especially an execution of a "demon" who wore a white robe and deceived everyone in the city. Cairo…

Altaïr changed his direction and set off for the execution grounds. However, when he arrived, he saw that there was already a large crowd surrounding the raised platform. They were all jeering out, thirsty to watch the spectacle that promised bloodshed, especially from the "demon." And on that wooden platform, stood an Assassin bound in heavy chains. There were chains wrapping around Cairo's neck and connecting to the high beam, chains connecting from his wrists to the floor boards, along with his ankles, allowing no movement. The position the chains caused put him so that his limbs were spread slightly apart.

The Executioner strode around the bound Assassin, occasionally landing a hard blow on the man's bowed head. Altaïr could see red dripping down the mask that Cairo still wore and a dark wet spot forming on the cowl of where he had been hit. It was too much to be from that one hit alone. Altaїr supposed that the Executioner had been up to that particular act for some time.

The small sight of blood sent the crowd further into a frenzy and further excited them. Cries for more filled the air. Altaïr began to push his way through the crowd to get closer to the platform. He could not allow one of his Brothers die, no matter how strange or annoying he may be.

"You have been charged with the multiple murders of important people, filthy rat! You shall have no appeal to your case and shall be executed here, damned-to-hell Assassin!" the Executioner called out, once again bashing at Cairo's head. "Do you have any last words, pig? Before I take your pathetic life?"

"Yes. If you would please grant me this last request. Please, remove this mask and hood so that I may stare into the face of my sins with my last breath," Cairo asked, bowing his head once more. The motion allowed more blood to fall. Behind his mask, Cairo rolled his eyes. How many times have we played this game? Get some new material.

Cairo.. How can you give up so easily! Altaïr questioned angrily as he pushed his way more aggressively through the crowd, earning multiple angered curses from the viewers.

With a smirk on his horribly scarred face, the Executioner grasped the mask and hood, ready to pull it off.

"And one last thing…" Quickly, Cairo pulled his bare hands through the obviously too big shackles and stabbed his hidden blades into the bigger man's skull. Altaïr froze in shock and wonder as the smaller pushed the dead man to the ground with ease. "Long live the Creed."

Cairo straightened and pulled his feet from the shackles on his ankles and pulled off the chains from around his neck, just as more guards came rushing to kill him. With a hidden smirk, Cairo reached into his robes and pulled out a small ball made of glass.

"Maybe you will catch me next time."

Throwing the ball onto the ground, it erupted, and smoke began to build around Cairo's feet. Screams and gasps of fright filled the air as the smoke terrified the by standing crowd.

And once the smoke cleared, Cairo was gone.

"Where did he go?"

"Find him!"

"He couldn't have gotten far!"

These yells came from multiple guards as they pushed through the frightened crowd as they immediately began their search. Altaïr watched and looked back towards the platform as the last of the thinning smoke cleared. Where could he have gone?

"Altaïr!" a hiss came from behind him and he turned around slowly. Cairo was standing behind him.

"What are you doing here! The guards can find you here!" Altaïr hissed.

"I know, so come on!" Cairo said as he grabbed Altaïr's arm and dragged him away from the crowd and from the guards. Altaïr quickly followed and together the two left the area.

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