Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed, subsequent machines used or any of the Assassins Creed characters mentions. I do however own Nylah so any attempt to rob will be severely punished! MWAHAHA.
On a lighter note, here's the story…

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A/N: Okay, I am amazed at the response to this story. Special shout outs to Sono la Notte, PurplePluto and stifledcreativity. I really appreciate your comments, they've spurred me on to finish this story. Just to let you know, there will definitely be Ezio and Desmond stories later on in the series. If you like Assassin's Creed, go read Anticipation by Sono la Notte, it rocks. Sorry for the plug, it had to be done. I'll see you all soon and thanks again : ). Enjoy.

Chapter 7: Altaïr 1120

Altaïr and Malik sprinted, side by side, across the now familiar rooftops of Damascus; they were heading for Malik's family home where his father and brother now waited for their arrival. Malik had run ahead to tell them of the plan to assassinate them, and Malik and Altaïr's plan to get them out of the city.

"Malik, are you okay?" Altaïr called as he saw his partner fall behind from the corner of his eye. He turned.

"I'm fine, just a little tired" He called back, walking over to Altaïr and falling at his feet. "Just a few minutes rest and I'll be fine" He breathed gently, his eyes fluttering closed.

Altaïr caught him, feeling something warm and sticky on his back. He pulled his hand from behind Malik and saw it painted red with his friends blood.

"Malik!" Altaïr cried, falling to his knees beside him.

"Infidel, die" Altaïr heard that all too familiar call as an arrow whistled past his head, narrowly missing his nose. He looked to the source of the arrow and saw a solitary guard slowing his run to aim his bow more accurately.

Altaïr stood quickly, avoiding the first arrow fired in his direction. The guard quickly knocked another, taking steady aim. Before he had chance to fire, Altaïr was on him, avenging his friends injury before sprinting back to Malik.

"Malik, wake up" He said, lifting his friend into his arms.

"Altaïr? What happened? Why is it so cold?" Malik questioned groggily.

"The guard" Altaïr said, carrying his friend whilst sprinting away from the corpse that he had pitched over the rooftop into the street "He hit you with an arrow, I don't think it's too serious" He tried to reassure his friend, and himself. Malik would not die. Could not die.

Altaïr pushed himself harder, ran faster, in a concerted effort to save his partners life.

...

Nylah jolted awake for a second time. Upon finding Altaïr gone she felt desperately alone. Then she remembered that Altaïr had said that he had Malik had a mission to complete.

"Rafiq" She called, climbing to her feet quickly and running to the door of the Rafiq's office.

"Yes" The Rafiq appeared in the doorway, concern painted over his usual sneer.

"What was Altaïr's mission? Where is he?" Nylah was panicked, the loneliness clawing at her insides. In all the months that she had spent in Damascus, she had never missed human company. Meeting Altaïr had stirred something within her that craved comfort and company.

"I am not at liberty to discuss his mission. However I can tell you that he will be at Malik's family home, beside the Damascus Temple" The Rafiq nodded to Nylah as she thanked him and moved to leave.

"Be careful Nylah am Egypt, the guards are jittery today" Were the Rafiq's parting words as he handed her a hidden blade from the shelf beside the door and returned to his spot behind the desk.

"Thank you Rafiq, I will not forget your kindness. Safety and Peace" Nylah said, walking from the room.

"Be upon you too" Nylah heard the Rafiq call as she climbed the wall to the roof hatch, climbing onto the roof before strapping on the hidden blade and hooking the mechanism around her little finger. She flexed her hand and the blade sung through the air, springing forth from it's sheath and taking the place of her ring finger. When she thought about it, Nylah couldn't see how Altaïr didn't know she was an Assassin just from her finger. She put it to the back of her mind; if she didn't move now she would never get the chance to ask him.

She sprinted across the level rooftops surrounding the Bureau, looking intently for any sign of Altaïr. She skidded to a stop as she saw a drip of dark liquid on the floor that look unsettlingly like blood. She knelt down and dipped her index and middle finger in the liquid. The came away scarlet. She was right, it was blood.

Nylah followed the trail of small drops to a larger puddle. It then smeared a little into a footprint. The footprint lead away until the person evidently realised that they were leaving a trail and ended with a scrubbed patch of red in the dust. Yet there was no body in sight. The blood was sill warm so it can't have been long ago.

As Nylah thought over what might have happened she heard a commotion in the streets below. She walked to the edge of the building, casting a shadow down onto the streets. She saw the body of a guard laying in the centre of the cobbled main street. It had clearly been thrown from the rooftop she stood on, possibly the exact same spot that she stood right now.

Nylah saw the people in the street look at her shadow and look up at the rooftop but before they could see her she darted from view, following another track of blood that lead to the edge of the building, from the original puddle. She reconstructed the scene in her mind.

...

A faceless man stands, facing a guard. The guard fires an arrow at the man, catching him in the shoulder or somewhere equally non-lethal. The guard then slows his run to line up his shot better. This is when the faceless man strikes, killing the guard and leaving a small trail of blood. He throws the guard from the rooftop and begins to run away, scrubbing his foot when he realised he was trailing the guards blood - possibly his blood - after him.

...

"Altaïr, what have you been up to?" Nylah whispered, looking in the direction of the bloody footprints.

She sprinted after them, following a straight trail but looking around as she ran. Suddenly someone grabbed her arm.

"What the-" She spun around and saw Altaïr with his finger to his lips. He beckoned for her to follow before picking up a figure that was slumped on the floor behind him.

"Malik?" Nylah gasped "Altaïr, he's dying".

Nylah took Malik from Altaïr and put him on the floor, kneeling over him and placing her hand on his cheek, trying to shake him awake.

"Malik, Malik you have to wake up" Nylah hissed, shaking him gently.

Malik's eyes fluttered open and he mumbled "Is Altaïr okay?".

Altaïr knelt beside Malik, reassuring him that he was fine while Nylah tore a strip of cloth from her cloak.

"Altaïr, help me roll him over" Nylah said, moving to Malik's side. Altaïr did as Nylah asked and soon Malik was laying on his front, his wound open for Nylah to see clearly.

"Keep him talking" She ordered, stripping off Malik's top and inspecting the wound. The arrow remained buried in his flesh but Nylah knew that if she could get the arrow out he would be fine. He was breathing fine and wasn't dead yet, meaning that the arrow had missed most major organs in his chest area. She felt around the wound before deducing that it had passed between his ribs. She sighed and instructed Altaïr to hold Malik steady as she prepared to pull the arrow out. Malik groaned in pain as she touched the wood of the shaft. Nylah sighed.

"I'm sorry Malik, there's no painless way to do this. It's going to hurt" She said, trying to be as gentle as possible as she felt around the wound.

"Just get it out" Malik moaned.

"Okay, ready" Nylah counted from three and began to pull the arrow out. Malik cried out in pain.

"Keep him quiet" Nylah hissed as the arrow-head began to surface. With a quick yank the arrow came out and Malik cried out into Altaïr's hand.

Nylah wrapped the strip of material she had torn from her robes around his chest after wadding another strip of material over the wound. Dressing Malik quickly, Nylah and Altaïr ran towards Malik's family home. Nylah did not know the mission but she knew that they had to be at Malik's home.

...

"Altaïr, tell me the mission" Nylah cried, pacing back and forth in front of Altaïr.

"Nylah, if I tell you the mission Al Mualim will kill you" Altaïr sighed "But if you really wish to know then I will tell you, but you must hear me out before you pass judgement on my actions"

Nylah and Altaïr sat across from each other at the table of Malik's family home while Malik's father and younger brother quickly finished packing sparing supplies for a journey that would take them the better part of a month.

Altaïr and Malik had decided to send Malik's family to Egypt, to Cairo and then further south to the more remote regions. Malik was certain that Al Mualim's reach did not extend that far, Altaïr was not sure but did not want to be pessimistic; especially not when his friend was wounded and fretting.

"Malik, sit down" Altaïr sighed, looking over to his friend who was rushing around helping his little brother pack up, occasionally stopping and leaning against the wall for support. "If you don't rest you'll never get back to Masyaf".

"I do not care about getting back to Masyaf, only that my family is safe" Malik continued to walk brusquely around the small house, grabbing random objects of use such as blankets, clothes and food.

"Malik you are not thinking" Altaïr stood and placed his hand on his friends shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

"I am thinking… I am…" Malik trailed off and sighed, complying with Altaïr and, finally, sitting down to rest while Altaïr helped his family.

...

A/N: Ohoho, they're almost in the clear, the mission's almost finished. The end of the mission isn't the end of the story though so don't fret. Thanks again to those mentioned above, I hope this has you on the edge of your seats [don't fall off though, that would be bad]. Honestly I really appreciate it and I can't thank you enough because this is my first real endurance trial : ). I'll see you all later in another thrilling chapter.
Bye bye and have fun.
Safety and Peace.