Disclaimer: Ok so this is the last one of these I'm going to post. It should be apparent by now that I only claim the characters that I created. So, one last time…I own none of the Assassin's Creed characters, save for the ones of my own creation.

The first sensation Amira felt was one of weightlessness amidst the brightness. Then, the light faded to be replaced by sunlight and sweltering heat, and she found herself falling from a few feet in the air. She collided with the sand covered roof beneath her with a thud, and swore as she picked herself up, brushing the warm sand off of her as she stood.

The first observation she made was that the sand wasn't just on the rooftop, it was everywhere. It coated the ground, roofs, people, animals. Everything seemed to be covered in a fine film of the stuff. The second thing she noted was the overwhelming heat. It was almost oppresive in the way it seemed to pull all the moisture from her.

"Where…where in the world am I?" she wondered as she peered at the world around her. Amira took in the tall spires that climbed into the blue sky and the archaic looking building style. "It looks like some old town in the Middle East…but that can't be possible, can it?" she asked herself as she peered down at the streets below her. Men and women milled below her, the women dressed in long, plain dresses and the men in simple cloth as well.

"Shit. Well I certainly won't fit in dressed like this…I need to find a way to get some clothing so I can blend in…" she muttered as she observed the area. "Here goes nothing…" she said as she awkwardly dropped down into a nearby alleyway and walked out into the streets.

She kept as much to the larger crowds as she could, ignoring the stares she was getting as she searched for a place where she could buy or steal clothing. She smoothly maneuvered through the throngs of people, her face calm despite the overwhelming urge she felt to curl up and hide somewhere, anywhere.

'That kind of attitude isn't going to help you. You don't even know where you are.' The voice inside her head said firmly, and she set herself to the task of finding out where she was currently located and how she had managed to get there. 'Could it have been the Apple? But why would it send me here?' she wondered as she made her way into one of the larger markets.

Somewhere outside of Jerusalem

Altaïr groaned inwardly as the headache began again for the second time that morning. It had gone for a brief time, and now it seemed it was back even stronger. Malik glanced at his friend worriedly as they road towards the city, noting how his hands were clenched so tightly around the reins that his knuckles were white. Al Mualim had sent them on a mission together, one that wasn't on the list of men he had given Altaïr. They easily made their way into the city under the guise of scholars and within the hour, they were standing in front of the bureau leader. He informed them on the details of their target, a corrupt judge who was responsible for the deaths of many innocents in the city.

"I will trace out his habits. I want you to see if you can find out where he will be today." Malik ordered, and Altaïr grudgingly agreed. "As you wish, brother." He told him, displeasure dripping from his voice.

He was just barely able to disguise the pain that pounded his head as he made his way out of the bureau and parted ways with Malik. He made his way to the marketplace where he sat tiredly on a bench beside an old man who was babbling to himself. He lost himself in the stream of conversation around him, catching small snippets of a conversation here and there that he was able to focus in on and obtain information from.

He switched to his eagle vision to better focus on his targets and fixed his eyes on the two figures that were glowing a faint yellow. He listened to their conversation and gathered what information he could from them before he switched back to his normal vision. He shook his head slightly to clear it, and then surveyed the area around him. Seeing that there were no guards, he easily weaved his way out of the market and back to the bureau.

Amira waited patiently a few feet away from a clothing vendor, and upon noting what the currency looked like, she knew that whatever money she had would be useless.

'Well…poop." She muttered, 'I suppose I'll have to chance at thieving then…' she thought to herself as she took advantage of the vendor's distracted state.

'So now instead of standing out because I'm wearing different clothes, I get to stand out because I look like the freaking hunchback of Notre Dame. Great change Amira, really great. Fantastic change we have here…'

She slipped the hood of her now stolen cloak over her head, shifting her backpack so it was less obvious, and melted silently into the crowd. Throughout the day, she had slowly gathered information about her surroundings. She discovered that she was in Jerusalem, and based on the clothing and other signs, she estimated that she was sometime around…a time at possibly wasn't hers. Finally, she was frustrated at playing a guessing game and stopped a woman carrying a heavy jar. The woman impatiently glared at her and then snapped out her answer before trudging on.

"You've got to be kidding me. How the heck did I end up here? And of all the times…Why me…?" she muttered to herself as she settled on a crate in a darkened alleyway and thoughtfully chewed through a piece of bread that she had bought with money she had stolen from a wealthy man's purse. Her head was still pounding slightly, but nowhere near as painfully as it had been.

'A better question to all of this would be how I can understand them all, and vice versa. Surely the dialects have changed in the nearly thousand years that have passed between my time and now, so how is it that I can understand them, clear as day? Is this another part of the Apple's powers, and if so, why me? Why bring me here, of all people?' she found herself wondering, a concerned frown creasing her forehead.

Back in the bureau, Altaïr was also silently sighing in relief as the pounding in his skull receded to a tolerable level. Malik returned only moments after Altaïr did, and the two shared their information with the rafiq.

"He retires late in the evening, and does not rise until early afternoon." Malik finished, and Altaïr stepped in.

"He will be attending the execution this evening. We can target him there and complete our mission. We know that he travels with very few guards, and believes himself to be like a God and in need of little to no protection. We should be able to eliminate him easily." Altaïr told the rafiq confidently, and Malik's lips twisted into a snarl of irritation as a frustrated sigh gusted from him.

"Mind your arrogance, Novice!" Malik snapped, furiously meeting his companion's golden gaze. "I will create the distraction and you will eliminate the target. Al Mualim wishes it to be done so." He informed Altair, once more going over what their Master had instructed and Altaïr inclined his head slightly. Irritation glowed in his eyes but Malik refused to back down or look away, glaring at him until Altair was forced to drop his gaze.

"Rest for now and try to keep your bickering to a minimum." The rafiq instructed and each man moved to comply, their shoulders tight with tension.

Outside, Amira climbed onto a nearby roof and hid in the garden that was there to escape the boiling sun. She brushed the thick layer of dust off of her cloak and tried to wipe off as much as she could from the rest of her.

"Oh, of all the many places that stupid thing could have sent me! It would send me to a place that's boiling and we have to be covered head to toe!" she muttered in exasperation as she wiped sweat off of her brow and tossed the cloak and tee shirt carelessly on the wooden floor beside her backpack. She carefully re-donned her vest and tightened the vibrant red laces securely before she drifted off into an uneasy sleep, the pressure in her head lightening slightly.

It was early in the evening when Malik and Altaïr stood ready atop the buildings overlooking the city square where the scaffolds had been hastily constructed. Their target was the presiding speaker at the execution and was already pacing across the scaffold shouting orders at the workers. Altaïr moved into his position, ignoring the headache that persisted annoyingly. Malik stood ready in his position, and each man waited for the trial to begin from their posts.

Back in her garden, Amira awoke to the sound of voices walking towards her. "Are you attending the trial today?" a male voice asked, and was answered by a noncommittal grunt.

She heard the faint clink of armor and tensed. She shrunk against the wall behind her, the familiar and reassuring weight of a blade sliding easily into her palm as she waited. After a moment, she peered through the slit in the gardens fabric overhang and saw the backs of two soldiers walking away. Once they were out of sight, she slipped from the garden after donning her cloak, wincing slightly as her headache returned. She left her backpack there, and made a mental note of what building the garden was on before she made her way down into the streets.

She managed to make her way towards the city square where the trial was to be held and looked around curiously.

"Well, I can honestly say I've never seen a public gathering like this to see a group of people be killed…It seems rather barbaric. But then again…I suppose I shouldn't be surprised." she muttered as she slipped unnoticed against a wall near the front.

The trial began shortly after she arrived, and even as uninformed as she was about the situation, she could tell simply by the evidence presented that the people were all most likely innocent of the crimes. Yet not a single one spoke throughout the entire trial. The crowds became more and more noisy, demanding the deaths of those who were being judged, and Amira felt her heart go out to them.

From the corner of her eye, she caught a flicker of movement from the rooftop of the building across from her. A white figure leapt down from the roof and landed unnoticed before making their way into the crowd. Scanning the other rooftops, Amira caught sight of a second person in white and tracked his movements.

"What are you two up to…?" she mused as she shifted her attention to the man in the crowd.

He was tall enough that he didn't quite manage to hide, although he did an admirable job of slouching to compensate, so she was able to keep an eye on him easily. As he neared the front, she suddenly flashed back on the scene she had seen and knew what was going to happen.

At the sound of a commotion behind him, the white robed man moved smoothly into action, flinging carefully aimed knives at the ropes around the men's necks and freeing them before he sprung forward and killed the few guards that were there and landing on his targets back.

Amira saw the flash of red that appeared when his blade pierced through his targets neck and saw him swipe something across the wound. The shouts of guards rang into the square, and the man looked up with a sense of irritation and alarm at the soldiers approach.

Within seconds, he had leapt free of the scaffold and sprinted towards an exit and was quickly followed by his companion.

Amira narrowed her eyes at the guards chasing them, 'They're never going to escape that many of them…' she thought before she turned and ran after them. She made her way quickly to the roof of a building and leapt the gaps with slight difficulty as she tracked the guards below.

Glancing ahead, Amira noted that the robed men would soon be cornered in an alley too small to easily fight in. "You know, maybe on second thought, this isn't such a bright idea!" she half yelled as she flung herself off the roof.

She landed harder than she intended, hitting the ground in a roll and stubbornly pushing herself back upright. She found herself in front of the guards and just behind the retreating assassin's backs. The guards started at her sudden appearance, and she turned on her heel and sprinted away in a different direction after carelessly flinging a throwing knife at the group to catch their attention.

With a shout, about half of the guards turned to follow her and she nearly laughed. 'It's like herding sheep. One little distraction and the whole herd is thrown off…But at least this way it gives them a chance to escape from some of these guards…' she thought as she ran.

Both Altaïr and Malik turned at the sound of someone landing behind them and the guards shouting, and saw a cloaked figure disappear with the group of guards trailing after. They quickly finished off the few that remained, and without saying a word, ran after the guards that had left.

Amira ducked through an alley, taking out one man as he managed to get close enough to slice open a wound in her thigh before she carried on her headlong sprint. Suddenly, a group of guards who hadn't been chasing her turned the corner in front of her and she barely managed to dodge around them. Catching sight of the guards chasing her, the new group joined in as well. Amira looked over her shoulder and cursed. She now had upwards of ten men after her instead the six that had been, and they were closing in quickly.

"Holy crap on a cracker! Where do you all come from? Don't you have some other important business to do?" Amira panted in disbelief as she ran. Swearing, she ripped off the cloak and carelessly flung it in the face of the guard behind her. She heard his muffled cursing and grinned briefly, "Let's see how you like getting your arms and legs tangled in that silly thing, eh?"

Muttering a curse, she skidded to a stop and turned to face the closest two. She ducked under their attacks, and blocked them the best she could with the thin sword that had been sheathed to her back. Even still, their attacks managed to break through her defenses no matter how solid they were, and she felt the guard plates that lined the stomach of her vest beginning to crack under the force of the blows.

"Oh, not good!" she muttered, seeing the rest of the guards round the corner.

She turned and ran, leaving the two guards bleeding on the ground. Some paused to take care of their friends, but a large amount still followed her. She repeated this tactic, waiting until several men had grossly outpaced the rest and fighting them until the others caught up before turning and running again. Amira felt her strength dwindling as she bleed from several gashes and her breath tore out of her chest.

Suddenly, she heard the twang of a bow release and she felt a searing pain lance through her. The pain stole her breath for a moment and she staggered to one knee with a gasp before she stubbornly threw herself back onto her feet. "Seriously? Now I'm being shot at?" she shouted angrily before she turned the next corner and out of the archers sight.

Her hand brushed against her side and came away slick with deep red blood. One of the arrows hadn't pierced her, it had only glanced off her side, but the wound was still deep and painful. The other had just barely glanced off of her ribs, and stuck stubbornly in her side with only the portion of the shaft in her. The arrowhead gleamed dully in the fading sunlight and with an annoyed growl, she broke the feathered end off the arrow, pulling it free with a shriek.

She faced several more of the guards, fighting through the black eating at the edge of her vision. One of the guards lay dead with her sword buried deep into the bone, and she didn't have time to retrieve it before the others caught up again.

"Damn it all…This blade's a piece of crap." She said glancing at the stolen dead man's blade, blinking back the darkness that spotted her vision.

Altaïr and Malik ran the rooftops parallel to the street the guards and cloaked figure were on and landed silently behind the group. Amira drew a gasping breath before turning and facing the guards again as they slowly backed her into an alley, and fought them with the last bit of strength that she had left.

A solid punch in the gut from one of the guards doubled her over in pain and he then proceeded to take advantage of her state until he froze suddenly, blood trickling from his neck. He fell beside her, and she collapsed as well. The last thing she saw before black overwhelmed her vision was the faint white of a robe. Then there was only her overwhelming pain, and then, nothing.