The next day finds her kissing King Richard's cheeks farewell as she adjusts Darim around her chest. She promises to write the man, and he tells her he'll write her first, since Robert had a bird specifically trained for Masyaf. She quirks an eyebrow at that, but Malik shushes his horse as Tazim settles down in his carrier against him, and she knows she needs to get moving. Turgay and Shahin are eager to get back to the castle, and as they ride, they're joined by more men, all of who look as if they've fought for a life. Malik introduces them as "his men."
Travel is slow, and when Masyaf looms in the distance, she gets the feeling that something is wrong. It's deep seeded, and she can't shake it. As they ride, still a half-a-day away from the castle, she stops the horses, despite the stop not too long ago to change Darim and Tazim.
"Malik," she mutters, despite the irritated grumbles from Malik's men and the antsy antics of her novices. "Something's not right."
Her novices have come up beside her on their horses, and the horses are acting funny, too. She swallows nervously, frowning as she calms her horse. Malik looks at her, frowning.
"What do you mean?"
"Something isn't right. I can feel it. We shouldn't take the babies into Masyaf."
"What do you mean? What nonsense is this?"
"Malik, there's something wrong here. I only want people I know can survive. That means leaving the novices here with the babies, and a couple of your men to protect them. Something's not right."
She couldn't explain it, but she knew something was wrong. Every bone in her body was telling her not to take the children in there. It was an aura, a cloud, something that was settling within her. She couldn't take her children there. There's something wrong, and it's crawling through her veins and making her blood run cold.
"Then what do you suggest, Altaïr?" Malik asks.
She pauses, looking at the castle. "I want you to stay with the novices and the babies. I'll take your men, and we'll see what's wrong."
"No, I'm coming with you."
"I want at least two of your men, then, staying with the novices just in case everything goes wrong."
Malik grits his teeth but quickly chooses some men to stay behind, and they grumble and complain as they set up a makeshift camp. She then gives the babies to Turgay and Shahin, slings her leg over the horse properly, and takes off down the path with her husband and the men behind her. It's refreshing, she thinks, as the wind whips around her face, tugging her hood down as the adrenaline courses through her veins, building rapidly as the castle comes closer in her view. The horses rear when she pulls them to a stop outside the gates, running up the hill with her short sword in hand. Malik is behind her with his sword, and the men are quickly fanning out. She can see the other assassins jump down to attack, and she simply maneuvers out of the way, leaving the others to take care of them as she slips into the castle with Malik. The courtyard is filled with the villagers, and all of them seem to be in a trance. She slaps them gently and snaps her fingers, but nothing seems to work. They all seem to be staring up at something hidden, and she frowns. She did well to keep her children behind. She wanders into the castle, holding Malik's hand as they pass by a dozen or so people stuck in the trance, staring at something above them.
"I will try to see what they are staring at, if there is a way to break the trance," Malik murmurs. "You see if you cannot find Al Mualim and get answers."
She nods, watching him head up the staircases before turning and walking into the garden. The entire place feels different. The women are not there, and she feels as if it's covered in fog purposely to obscure her senses. She feels slightly disoriented, but she grits her teeth as she continues to look around. She slinks along the sides, fighting the fog that threatens to overtake her. When she doesn't see anything, Altaïr finds her way back up to top, crossing the center.
She snarls when she feels herself paralyzed.
"What is this? What's going on?"
"Ah, so the student returns!"
She looks up to see Al Mualim holding that damn treasure she had been sent to fetch and almost failed if not for her husband.
"I have never been one to run!" she shouts.
"I feared you may have. You have been gone for over a year now, did you realize?"
"I do realize that—let me go!"
"Oh, Altair! I hear the hatred in your voice, feel its heat. Let you go? That would be unwise."
"So you use dirty tactics to restrain me. Why do you do this?"
"I have found proof!"
"Proof of what?" she snarls.
"That nothing is true, and everything is permitted!"
She snarls, tugging at the golden power restraining her.
"Come! Destroy the betrayer! Send her from this world!"
The binds are gone, and she watches as her marks appear from nowhere. She snarls again, ripping through them easier than before. Her eyes narrow as she watches the last one vanish. Something is wrong here. If her master wanted her dead, why would he have given her the chance to fight? She straightens, her lips twitching into a smirk before she is seized by the golden restraints again.
"Face me! Or are you afraid to be beaten by a woman?"
"I have stood before a thousand men! All of them superior to you! And all of them dead-by my hand! I am not afraid!"
She snorts at him as he materializes in front of her.
"Prove it," she growls.
"What could I possibly fear? Look at the power I command!"
She watches as more clones of Al Mualim appear, and as soon as she gets the chance, she is upon them, tearing through them with a fury to protect her children. She doesn't want to let him get a hold of them, of her husband, and how is Malik holding out? When she goes to attack her master, she's seized again, a snarling, howling mess. Her children are on the outskirts of Masyaf. They will be taken and turned into mindless drones if she cannot kill him. With all this power he commands, there must be some reason he hasn't yet killed her. Her children will live and be strong. She must fight to protect them.
"Have you any final words?"
She snarls and spits at him. "You lied to me! Called Robert's goal foul when all along it was yours as well! Let me down! I will fight and kill you!"
"I've never been much good at sharing."
"You will never win! Even if I am to die, others will find the strength to stand against you!"
"And this is why so long as men maintain free will, there can be no peace."
"I killed the last man who spoke as such," she hisses.
"Bold words, child, but just words!"
"Then let me go, and I will put words into action. Tell me, 'Master...' why did you not make me like the other Assassins? Why allow me to retain my mind, to fight?"
"Who you are and what you do are twined too tight together. To rob you of one would have deprived me of the other. And those Templars had to die, but I was much too busy and far too lazy to do it myself. Even now, I still need your power. I cannot hope for anything other than you seeing the truth and following me willingly. But the truth is I did try to turn you in my study when I showed you the treasure. But you are not like the others. You saw through the illusion."
"Illusion?"
"That's all it's ever done, this Templar treasure, this Piece of Eden, this word of God. Do you understand now? The Red Sea was never parted, water never turned to wine. It was not the machinations of Ares that spawned the Trojan War, but this! Illusions! All of them!"
"You speak madness to have such a lack of faith in mankind and in God. What you plan is no less an illusion-to force men to follow you against their will!"
"Is it any less real than the phantoms the Saracens and Crusaders follow now? Those... craven gods who retreat from this world that men might slaughter one another in their names? They live amongst an illusion already. I'm simply giving them another, one that demands less blood."
"Their 'craven gods' are one and the same. They fight for their belief, as all men strut and preen. It is a man's way. You do not see women in charge, do you? If we were to rule, there would be no bloodshed. Men wish to fight, wish to prove themselves the best. It is they who choose bloodshed. Let a woman rule, and there will not be that. Besides, at least they choose these phantoms."
"Oh do they? Aside from the occasional convert or heretic?"
"It isn't right."
"Ahh. And now logic has left you. In its place you embrace emotion. I am disappointed."
"Then let me go, and I will fight you with the spirit of the emotion that you so respectively hate."
"I did not say that I hate you."
"I did not accuse you of hating me. I accused you of hating emotion."
"That is the weakness of a woman," Al Mualim mutters, shaking his head. "I thought you had overcome this."
"I have gained it back to give me the power I need. Now release me and fight, pig-headed old man!" she shouts, struggling again.
Al Mualim laughs, and she growls at him.
"Very well, I will grant you your one last wish."
When she's released, she can feel the fires of God filling her, wondering momentarily if King Richard was praying for her safety. Any god would listen a man like him if he requested something. She doesn't hear what he says as she chases him all over the garden, screaming like a banshee. If she can't kill him, her children will die. Turgay and Shahin will be killed for helping her, a traitor, and Darim and Tazim will be murdered. When that thought crosses her mind, she feels as if she's been possessed by rage.
She wakes up as Al Mualim dies, the Apple rolling from his grip during that out of body experience. All time has stopped, and she is alone, sitting at with her master's head in her lap, running her fingers through his hair to comfort him in his last moments. Regardless of if he's corrupt or not, she owes him much.
"That is impossible! The student does not beat the teacher!"
"The student does not give birth and befriend men who walk with God alone," she murmurs, feeling her anger trickle out.
"Birth? You have given birth?" Al Mualim cries. "When did this happen?"
She chuckles, running her fingers over his cheek. "Three months ago. I have two healthy boys who simultaneously take from my body and give me strength, and two novices who have helped me and Malik raise them."
"Malik? They are Malik's? I am not surprised. I knew that something was bound to happen between you. That is why I sent you on that mission to Solomon's Temple when I did."
She blinks, then looks him in the eye. "What?"
"I knew that was lust between you. I had seen it: I have felt it from Malik's point of view, the bubbling lust that grows from being around a woman that you love."
She takes the man's hand from his stomach, pressing a kiss to his fingers. "It is this love that has been your undoing, then, it seems. For I had slept with him, and that weight that we were excited about, that growth in my chest, they were all signs of pregnancy."
"I have been a fool."
She cradles her cheek with his palm, feeling what little strength he has left being put to caressing her skin. The calluses are soft, and although the skin is thick, it is a comfort to feel him touch her one last time. He will always be her father, the one who took her in when she was left to die.
"It does not help that you played with fire, either."
Al Mualim snorts, and she can feel the out of body feeling beginning to grow weaker as she presses a little harder into his hand.
"This man that you said you befriended, who walks with God alone and deludes himself into thinking as such—"
"It is King Richard, and we both realize that there is God after death, one who will judge the souls of the dead. For as you said, the Apple creates illusions, and anything it has shown you of the afterlife is just an illusion."
Al Mualim is quiet for a moment, and she kisses his palm. Despite their horrible ending, she will miss him. She hears her master chuckle quietly, letting go of her cheek in favor of looking at her. She runs her hands over his cheek, despite the beard, feeling sad that he's about to die.
"Your words make me fear for my soul, and I simply wish he does not judge me too harshly for the insanity I invited into my life."
"I will look forward to seeing you in the afterlife, master."
Al Mualim chuckles as he begins to fade. "Ah, but you have proven that you are stronger. It is you who wears that mantle now, child. Use it well, and resist the temptation I have so willingly bitten from."
She smiles as the world around her begins to reform. "I will, and I will make sure that you are remembered for your whole life, not just the end."
She rises from him as the world comes crashing back down onto her and dusts off her robes. She will miss him, if not least for the support and love he had given her, the favoritism he had shown her when things got too much. Her eyes come to rest on something glowing from the Apple, and she frowns.
"Thank you," she hears in her ear, in Al Mualim's voice, and she smiles, stepping over to the treasure. "But you must destroy it."
She doesn't hear Malik enter as she reaches up, amazed when her fingers go through the floating image.
"No," she says. "I will not. I will keep it and use it as an example. Men cannot learn by stories alone. We must repeat mistakes if we are to learn. Words do not penetrate the skulls of men. Injuries, beatings, and lashings do."
The voice is silent, and she momentarily thinks that this will be perfect for entertaining her kids if she can figure out how to make it work. She blinks, mesmerized by the image, and it takes a while before she can straighten up, brush off her robes, and scoop up the treasure. The image disappears, and she slips it into a pouch, feeling a pleasant hum throughout her as she holds it close.
She looks around and sees Malik standing there, staring at her with a frown.
"He is dead?"
"He is dead. We are safe."
"Hardly, there is chaos in the village."
She frowns. "Then we must contain it now."
She chases down the assassins, having them herd the villagers into the courtyard to be placated and reassured. Turgay and Shahin come in with her children as she speaks to villagers and assassins alike, and she takes Tazim from the boys, Darim going to Malik.