Instead of having endless fun with his newly acquired blade, Altair found himself searching the entire city of Damascus for the troublesome vixen. He checked for her in all the districts, but to his dismay and confusion, he couldn't find the target.
This was disgraceful.
How could an elite assassin like himself lose something so vital to someone so inferior? Nothing could describe the shame and anger he felt right then and there.

He realized how quickly time had passed when he looked out towards the setting sun.

"I have to get back to the Bureau soon," he muttered.
But how could he go back? Malik was sure to become suspicious of the Hidden Blade once he saw that it was missing. Altair couldn't imagine what his comrade would say… and since a woman stole it from him, Malik would forever taunt him for this.

'However,' he thought, 'If I get to the Bureau, I can ask the Rafiq if he's heard anything… out of place here recently,'

It took Altair a matter of minutes to reach the Bureau. As he fell through the rooftop's entrance, he caught a glimpse of Malik, relaxing by the wall on a pile of pillows. He looked up at Altair with the same jealous-like expression from before.

"Back so soon, are we?" Malik asked with a feigned smile as he stood up.

"I have no time to fool around, Malik. Is the Rafiq in?"

Malik gave his eyes a slight squint. "Of course," he said.

Altair quickly paced towards the small office of the Bureau leader. The Rafiq, as they called him, wore a dark, hooded robe with his full and scraggly beard hanging out of it. He turned to face the distraught-looking assassin.

"Safety and peace, Altair." he said, "Is something the matter?"

"It is nothing I can't handle, Rafiq." Altair lied, "But I am in need of some information."

"Information? Why, surely Master Al Mualim hasn't given you a target for today."

"It is not a target. Well at least… not yet."

"Where is this coming from, Altair?" Malik interrupted as he strolled into the room.

"It's nothing" he replied, "I'm just curious about something."

Malik knew something was up; the assassin couldn't fool him. But then he saw something… or rather, he didn't see something, on Altair's left arm. He was one weapon short.

"Are you sure that it's nothing you can'thandle?" Malik asked with a smirk on his face.

Altair glanced suspiciously at him. "Yes," he said annoyed.

"Oh, well then does this 'something' have anything to do with your Hidden Blade?"

Altair blinked as he tried to move his arm out of Malik's sight, but it was of no use. He knew it was gone. The Rafiq had started to take notice too.

"Is this true, Altair?" he asked, stunned, "Did something happen to your Hidden Blade?"

'Dammit,' he thought, 'I should've known nothing gets past Malik….'

"We're all waiting, Altair." Malik said sarcastically.

"I-I got into a bad fight with a group of Templars," he said finally, "I'd rather leave it at that…"

"Templars, you say?" Malik continued with his sarcasm, "Well, from what I've heard, the Templars will be here in Damascus tomorrow. They have a gathering in Jerusalem, about a week from now, so they're taking a short rest in Damascus. Now... what exactly happened, Altair, or are you too afraid to even admit defeat?"

"I was not defeated, Malik!" Altair retorted angrily, "If that thief hadn't caused trouble, she would be dead by now!"

"And... that's a good thing…? Wait—did you just say, 'she'? As in a woman stole the Hidden Blade?" Malik forced himself to hold in laughter.

"No wait! That's not what I—stop laughing, damn you!"

Once Malik calmed down, Altair finally told him and the Rafiq everything.

"You are not to breathe a word of this so long as you live!" he said sternly to Malik.

"I don't think I can promise you that," he said

"Oh trust me, you will. Or so help me God, I'll—"

"At ease, Altair," interrupted the Rafiq, "A clear mind will help resolve any issue. Now then, it was a lady thief, you say, that stole from you? I have heard of such a woman. They are not common in Damas, but there was one particularly in this area that has been stealing all kinds of things."

"What kind of things?" Altair asked calmly, but sternly.

"I'm not sure. She has a strange taste for the things she steals. Some claim that she has stolen medical things; others say food, but then there are times when she steals weaponry too. But the strangest thing about this is people consider her a saint!"

"Is there anything you could tell me that might help, Rafiq?" Altair said impatiently

The Rafiq paused for a moment, then said, "... all I can tell you is that the woman spends most of her days in the bazaar marketplace, to the west of here."

"I'll go at once."

"Don't be in such a rush, Altair… or at least don't rush off without a word of caution..."

Altair turned back to face the Rafiq with yet another impatient look.

He continued, "I give you warning, young assassin. The girl has many allies that roam the streets. Cause anything out of turn and they'll be onto you. I don't think that would be in your best fortune."

"I thank you Rafiq" he said.

"How is it that you know all of this?" asked Malik.

"Because the wench has stolen from me as well!"

Altair breathed, "That is most unfortunate..."

And with that, he stormed off towards the direction of the bazaar marketplace, Malik following behind him.

"This woman..." Malik began, "...how could she have stolen from you?"

Altair frowned at this question, but answered, "When we get there, you shall see..."