It was one day in the training grounds. They might as well have been in a fire, because the sun-baked the ground and anyone outside. Even if it were unforgivingly hot that day, the students were still outside, training as always.

Malik was leaning against the wall, in the narrow strip of shade. Soon though, the sun would peak and that shade would be gone and the castle would offer some after a while longer. His hands were loosely clutching the hilt of the wooden sword. It's not like he wanted to train today. It was too hot and he was still grieving.

But according to Labib, thirteen meant you were old enough to get over your personal issues and train. There was no break for him.

And there was poor Kadar... Malik had watched him this entire time. It's not like he was a good fighter to begin with, but Kadar even struggled in a couple of sparring matches until Altair got the better of him. But by then, the eleven year old was panting and drenched in sweat.

Labib sighed, "Why not you take a break, boy."

To the offer, Kadar nodded and shuffled towards Malik, and sunk to a sit. His neck and cheeks were bright red with a sun burn, and the back of his shirt clung to his skin. Flush from exertion, he let his head rest against the wall. "This is just unfair..."

Though Malik would have liked to give Kadar some encouragement, he couldn't conjure up anything to even fake being happy. Besides, he couldn't say much of anything before Labib called him over to get some sparring done.

He climbed over the wooden boards around the sparring quadrangle and lifted up the training sword to Altair. Of course, the other was more up to the challenge than him.

The wooden replica swords smacked with a loud bonk as the match begun. Altair dove right in, and Malik leapt back to dodge it, his back hitting the fence. He tried to find a way out of the edge, but there was no way around the other student. He was effectively cornered and put on the defensive. That wasn't for long before his training sword was knocked right out of his hands, and it flew to the other side of the space, hitting the fence with a smack before landing in the dust.

Altair lowered his training sword and said fairly bluntly, "You are terrible at this."

To that, Malik felt prickling anger. He snapped back, "It's easy for you! You're father died and you got trained by Al Mualim!"

"It's not my fault that he didn't want to train you," the other said foully. "Maybe you're just not worth the trouble."

Angry and easily set off, he stormed over to his wooden sword and picked it up before charging at Altair in hopes of smacking him across his smug face with it. But Altair effortlessly lifted up his hand and caught Malik mid run by the face. Malik's feet shot out in front of him and he hit the dirt. Before he could get up and try to clobber him again, he was pinned down by Altair's foot.

Labib seemed a bit unsure, "This better not result in another issue, Altair."

"It won't be," he said back to the instructor. Then he leaned down, foot still on Malik's chest, and said, "If you want, I can knock you down into the dust again."

"Just get off of me!" Malik growled.

"Don't give me venom for beating you fair and square," he said unamused, "if you suck up your pride and ask me nicely, then I'll let you go."

Okay, so this was a challenge of pride. Malik got that. But damn it, he wasn't going to let that go so easily, pride and Kadar were the two things he had left. He gripped Altair's ankle tightly and tried to push him off, but it was in vain.

"You're going to suffocate me, you big oaf! Get off of me!" Malik demanded, and once more he tried unsuccessfully to push him off.

"Absolutely pathetic," Altair said, shaking his head. "I thought you would be a bit more of a challenge, but I guess I am wrong."

"Get off!"

Altair sighed. "You know, I think I understand. Your dad made you strong, and now he's gone, so you have to act all tough to conpensate."

"How could you ever understand," Malik hissed. "You don't even know how this feels in the slightest!"

"And how could I not," he questioned.

"Because you don't have a little brother!"

It seemed as thought Altair had no responce to that. For a moment he stared at Malik hard, then he eased off and let him go. He sighed heavily. "I'm sorry."

But Malik pushed past him and climbed over the fence with a sharp, "Just leave me alone!"

Kadar took a shallow breath, staring out the window in he and his brother's room. The sky dark now and the heat from today gone very quickly. It was cold now. His blanket was slung over his shoulders for warmth. "Brother, what was all that about during training today?"

His brother was laying on his side, facing away. "Nothing. Just go to sleep."

"But it was," Kadar disagreed, "You said Altair couldn't fight well in a spar. I can see him beating me, but you too? I think I even did better."

"It's nothing, Kadar. Go to sleep."

"Fine..." He lowered his chin down on his crossed arms as he continued to stare out the open window. Maybe if Malik wouldn't tell him, then Altair would.

I guess that's about when the bitterness started between Altair and Malik. As a result of one day, Kadar decided to start looking to Altair for help more than his brother. *shrugs* I dunno.

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