"Crystal!"
"Crystal!"
"Crystal Larmiar!" A sweet, yet demanding voice reaches the young teen's ears.
"What mother!? I'm practicing my dance moves just like you asked!" Crystal yells back at her mother while swaying her hips and rolling back her shoulders in unison with her fluid arm movements.
"Yes, and I appreciate you practicing, but I yelled your name three times, "Mother huffs out, "Come inside when your done. We have much to discuss."
"Fine." Crystal replies. 'This better not take long. I have the Proving I need to get ready for.' Crystal finishes practicing her dance routine, washes the small amounts of sweat rolling down her bare stomach and returns to the house.
When Crystal was younger she hated that her parents forced her to learn dance so she could become a belly dancer just like her Mother. Meanwhile, her older brother, Keaton, is training to become an assassin just like her Father. She thought it was unfair and has been determined to become a female assassin.
There were would be times where she would sneak off to watch the young boys train. She absorbs their tactics, watched them carefully and then put into practice what she saw. She quickly realized that her movements were fluid and came naturally to her. She bet she could beat out all those young boys and even reach master assassin status before them.
Every time she saw something new, she would sneak off into a nearby forest and practice. She would attack the trees, slash at their bark, their branches, and then climb them and jump off since she did not have the luxury of climbing buildings without being spotted. The rocks in the rushing river were good tools to practice her free running and to control her balance. Her dancing lessons also give her a great advantage in balance and motion.
Over the next year, her older brother finally caught on to her sneaking out every night. He decided to follow her. To his surprise, she was hard to track, he wondered when she learned to blend in with her surroundings and sneak around so well. In his attempts to follow her, he would lose her. After a couple more months he finally got a break in following her, she slipped up and he tracked her down.
He found her, free-running, climbing and hitting trees with weapons. He smirks to himself, 'So she really did want to become an assassin...so she's been trying to train. Typical little sister. Hmmm, well, I see her potential...she's fast, and great at sneaking around. I'll watch her a little more.'
Eventually, he caught on to Crystals training patterns. She would practice what he has been practicing in the training grounds with his brothers. Weeks went by when he would follow her out and observe her training from affair. 'She's getting good. She really could become an assassin. She's so determined to prove Mother and Father wrong. Alright...I'll help her train.'
Keaton emerges from his hiding spot to approach his younger sister. She's so engrossed in her practice that when Keaton steps on a twig and snaps it, she turned around ready to pounce, throwing a knife in his direction. Keaton easily deflects the knife with his dagger.
Crystal blankly stares at her brother, mouth agape. The siblings just stare at each other for a couple of minutes. Neither of them moving, but neither dropping their guard, shoulders tense, hands ready to grab the nearest weapon. After Crystal realizes her self-taught training lessons were discovered, she shakes her head and looks at the stolen weapons surrounding her. She gathers them in her arms with an attempt to hide them from her brother.
"Um...Crystal...I already saw them..." Keaton rubs the back of his head.
"What are you doing here!? How did you find me? I was sure my sneaking out was perfect..," Crystal continues to mutter as panic sets in.
"Don't tell Dad...Please please please don't tell Mom! Don't tell them!" Her voice squeaks.
"Sister," Keaton laughs at her antics as she scrambles around, "Hey, I've known you have been doing this for a while now. I just decided it's time I step in and help you train."
"Wait...train? You...want to help me?"
"Yes, I noticed you have great potential. I think you would make a great assassin." Keaton replies smugly.
"Great! When do you start training me? Oh! Let's start now!" Crystal grabs a dagger and readies to face her brother, "You won't tell Mom and Dad will you?"
"Nah, they will kill us both if I did."
"Than how can I prove myself? How can I prove that I'm just as capable as anyone else?" Crystal frowns.
"How about this...when ever young assassins turns 16, they must participate in the proving trials. Enter, pass, and Dad and Mom should see how capable you are," Keaton pulls out his dagger.
"Let's train!" He rushes at Crystal without any warning.
()
"Alright, Mom, what is it that you want to talk with me about?" Crystal sits on a chair across from her mother.
"Crystal, honey, you are sixteen years old. It's time you get married. I arranged a meeting for you to meet a nice young lad tonight. He's just a couple years older than you and..." Mother starts.
"No! I do NOT want to get married. I have plans Mother! Don't go arranging meetings with some guy and expect me to like him." Crystal starts to fume. Her mother tried this couple of times before when she turned 15. She went along with it at first to see her mother happy. She tried starting relationships, but in the end, it didn't work out.
"Dear, I just want to make sure you have a good man to start a family with and that you will be provided for. Hear me out..."Crystal slams her hands on the table between them, using more force than needed to stand from her chair, causing the chair to squeal against the floor.
"Mother, I do not wish to hear it. I will not meet with this "lad". I have plans, and if everything works out I will be able to provide for myself. I do not need my future written out for me. Don't wait up for me, I will be out late." Crystal doesn't let her mother speak as she stomps out of the house to meet up with her brother.
"Why are you frowning?" Keaton ponders as Crystal approaches him.
"Nothing...just...," Crystal huffs, "Mom's trying to arrange and plan my future again."
"Ah...well, don't be so hard on her. Remember she didn't have a choice when she married Father. She learned to love him, and he learned to love her. She only wants you to be comfortable and happy."
"If she wants to me to be happy she should understand that I have no interest in being married and that I have my own plans." Crystal smirks as she daydreams about her being a master assassin.
"Well, your plans aren't going to work if you keep daydreaming and don't put your words into action. C'mon we need to get your disguise ready for the Proving tonight." Keaton ushers his sister along to prepare for the long trial ahead of her.
()
The brilliant morning sun leaks through a window, bathing Crystals pale skin giving it a slight honey glow. The sunlight glimmers over her closed lids, causing her thick lashes to flutter open, her amethyst eyes greeted by the warm rays.
'Go away sun.'
The twenty-six-year-old reluctantly pulls her body up into a sitting position, stretching out her muscles from a well rested night. She ponders her dream of the past. Mixed emotions flood through her, the happiness of how she proved everyone that she could be an assassin, sadness at the lost of her family, friends, and her home.
A soft rasp at the door echoes throughout her room pulling her form her thoughts and emotions that threaten to boil over. When Crystal doesn't reply to the 'knock', another rasp echoes through her room, shortly followed by a soft voice.
"Hey, you should get up, eat something, I bet you're nervous. We should get to the tower as early as we can to settle this matter quickly," Delilah's motherly voice carries well, even though it's soft.
"Alright," Crystal replies hoarsely, her voice almost completely failing her. She assumes Delilah heard her reply as no other noises at her door was made.
She gets off of her plush pillows and blankets and puts on her robes. After fully dressing and arming herself with her usual knives, daggers, her quivers filled with arrows at her back, and lastly her trusty bow (she was actually never really skilled with a sword) she steps out to greet her friends.
"Morning sunshine!" Rakan states out while sipping at a dark liquid from his cup. Rakan was always up before everyone else, he is what you call a 'morning' person. Maybe it's because he's a doctor.
"Sit, and eat some bread." Delilah chirps out. She too is what is called a "morning" person. Crystal tries to sleep in as much as possible. As much as she enjoys the sun, she does not like being up at the crack of dawn. Not necessarily a good trait for an assassin to have, something her father always lectured her about.
Crystal grumbles out a response and munches away on some bread. Rakan and Delilah come up with a "plan of attack" to put into motion when they talk to the Master of this brotherhood Al-Mualim. She tries to listen in, but loses focus and begins to nod off at the table.
"Hey! Focus!" Delilah snaps her fingers in front of Crystal.
She shakes her head, and gently pats her cheeks with her palms. 'I really hate being up this early. But it is what is best in order for us to meet with the Master.' They finish their food, clean up and head out towards the tower. Crystal adjusts her hood to cover her hair, and her mask to cover the bottom half of her face and her neck.
The streets of Masyaf echo with the sounds of the early morning village life. Wooden stands selling their newly made wares, fisherman trying to sell their freshly caught fish, and bakers selling their fresh bread. Each villager routine like muscle memory for them, their pattern repeated on daily bases. Crystal, Delilah and Rakan push through the crowds to reach the steep slope that leads up to the towers of the assassins. As they reach the gate at the top of the slope, two assassin brothers block their way.
"Villagers aren't allowed here without good reason." The left assassin bluntly states arms crossed over his chest.
"We seek an audience with the Master, Al-Mualim, it seems our friend here caused a ruckus in the village the other day and he wishes to apologize for his disrespect," Rakan replies back coolly.
Crystal steps forward and nods towards the two soon to be brothers. The one crossing his arms replies back with a nod, the other one, points out at her, she recognizes him as being called "Abbas".
"You! You're that novice that got me in trouble, "Abbas shouts out. "Let them pass, I'm eager to hear what Al-Mualim will do to this young lad." He smirks down at Crystal's small form. She stares back up at him, her eyes not leaving his. 'Did you forget that I beat you yesterday?' Crystal smirks underneath her mask.
The assassins step aside to let the trio pass through. The walk past the training grounds was a couple of boys were locked in a scuffle. Their trainer seeming very pleased with their fight. Crystal notices a tower to the right, a couple more boys scaling its rocky texture, trying to reach the top. She frowns when she looks at her form. 'I might not be able to pass for a sixteen-year-old...the boys here are tall...I'm just short....'
They continue through the main tower, stone steps perfectly aligned with one another. The walls ornate with rows of bookshelves reaching from the floor to the ceiling, with flags decorated with the assassin's symbol hanging from the top edge. Each shelf containing infinite vast knowledge carefully organized inside scrolls and books. As they approach the top of the steps to reach the second floor a familiar assassin stops them.
"State your business and then Al-Mualim may speak with you." He looks them over, looking over Crystal a couple of times. "You! You're the one that caused that ruckus the other day. Master has been meaning to speak with you. You did give me your name last time."
'Oh,...it's the one named Malik At least the level-headed assassin around here is on guard and not those immature ones.'
"Excuse my interruption, but our young assassin here cannot speak." Rakan speaks, "But his name is Ralf." He gives Crystal's shoulder a hard smack, causing her to lurch forward but she steadies herself, giving him a glare.
"I see. Wait here, I will tell the Master you have arrived." Malik turns on his heels and heads to the center of the room. A minute or two has passed, and then loud voices reach the trios ears.
"Stay out of this Malik! The Master did not ask your opinion," A deep-voice laced in venom spits out.
"Hey may not have asked for my opinion, Altair, but at times like this sometimes it is needed." Malik hisses back.
"Enough!" An authoritative voice rings out, "You two are fighting like children. Malik, I appreciate the opinion, but at this time, Altair is right, it is not needed unless I ask it of you. Please escort the visitors to me. Altair, we shall discuss this at a later time. Now leave." The voice commands respect. Crystal shivers, her nerves getting to her.
'I may assume that that man is the Master. He sounds very intimidating. My Father was authoritative like that as well. I never found him intimidating though, well he was my father." Crystal continues to ponder while she waits for them to be called to meet him, her nerves continuing to fester.
"Out of my way!" A fairly tall assassin walks towards them at an alarming speed, he does not give them time to move, as he uses his broad shoulders to shove his way through.
"Once again...all the assassins have been so rude," Delilah whispers meekly, hoping the hot-headed assassin didn't hear her.
"Come, Master Al-Mualim will see you now, and don't mind him, cocky-bastard. That's just Altair, he gets that way when the Master scolds him." Malik ushers them onward.
The trio is greeted by a neatly organized desk with parchment and ink waiting to be used. More rows of bookshelves on either side of the room. A couple of scholar looking assassins quickly scramble into the rows, fill their arms with scrolls and leave just as quickly as they arrived.
"Master..." Malik begins.
"Thank you, Malik, you may leave." Crystal turns her head to see an older man standing at a very large window at the back of the rounded room. He releases a pigeon out into the world to seemingly deliver a message attached to its thin scaly leg. When he turns around to face the group, Malik gives a respectful bow and promptly leaves.
"What brings you to Masyaf?" Al-Mualim greets.