Chapter Six:
Nothing is True, Everything is Permitted
1200
"Laa shay'a waqi'un moutlaq bale kouloun moumkine. These are the words spoken by our ancestors, the first of us: Nothing is True, Everything is Permitted." Altair held out his hand, and I placed the bloody feather in his hand. "Today, another joins our ranks. Suna, please rise."
I stood and held out my left hand. Altair brought the white-hot metal to my ring finger and let it sear against my skin. Besides a grimace, I tried not to show how much it hurt. Compared to what Altair did, this was nothing. Altair finally took the metal off of my hand and handed me a leather bracer, with armour plating on the part that faced outward, and the unmistakeable chamber of a hidden blade on the part that faced me. It looked just like Altair's.
"I know that this was not the first man you killed," Altair said as he let the feather fall into the fire (even though it floated for a time), "but he was the first you killed as one of us."
I slid the hidden blade onto my left hand and flicked my wrist quickly. The blade sprung out, and missed my fingers. I clenched my fist and realized that the blade had been modified. Altair had said that he was going to find ways to disguise Assassins better, and the lack of a ring finger spelled-out who we were when we would be seen. After all, many people wore white, and hoods were common. The same went with our weapons.
Altair motioned to the ramp extending past the tower. There were three, and I'd seen many Assassins leap off of them before. Maria, Darim, and Sef were watching me carefully, studying my emotions. I'd learnt not to show them, but I smiled in their direction before I moved onto the ramp.
Altair went to the edge of the ramp next to mine. He smiled and spread his arms, like he had wings, and leaped off. I imitated him, and plummeted down. The adrenaline rushed through my body, and the wind whipped at my eyes, but I forced myself to look on. Because this was my first Leap of Faith, and I wanted to make sure it wouldn't be the last.
I hit the haystack dead-on and breathed a sigh of relief. I popped out and saw Altair lying on his haystack casually, almost like he'd just floated down in that position. He got up and held out his right hand, and I shook it firmly, just like he had when we'd first met.
"Welcome to the Assassins, Suna," Altair congratulated. "May you always fight for the weak, and bring justice to the wicked."
2012
"I don't believe this," Shaun muttered as he typed on his screen quickly.
"What?" I asked, looking over his shoulder. "You don't believe what? C'mon, don't leave us mere mortals hangin'!"
Shaun glared at me. "Your ancestor, Suna Ibn La'Ahad, became a high-ranked Assassin when she was only fourteen! And look; I fast-forwarded as much as I could, and she's the one who taught Darim how to use a crossbow!"
"Really?" I studied the screen and saw my ancestor showing a young Darim how to use the weapon Shaun stated. She scolded him when he got it wrong, but nodded when he did something right. She never praised him. "Hey, Desmond! It looks like my ancestors taught one of your ancestors a thing-or-two!"
"Yeah? Well, Altair taught Suna everything he knew, so he was her mentor!" Desmond shot back.
I grinned. "Just think; without my ancestor, Genghis Khan wouldn't have died, because Darim killed him with a crossbow!"
Desmond shook his head. "Shut-up, Sam!" I could see, however, that he was laughing.
"Lucy, there's another memory break," Rebecca pointed-out to her friend. "Look; here, at the very beginning of Ezio's memory node, and here; in a memory node of Sam's. The difference is, in Sam's, it has half the memory contained, but we won't know the end result."
"What?" Lucy checked Rebecca's computer screen while Desmond and I glanced at each other. "Try to get information on how to surpass that node!"
Rebecca typed quickly. "Hm… Well, it looks like there was some sort of traumatic event that almost cleaned out the memory." Rebecca saw me tilt my head—something she'd gotten used to seeing. "It means that your ancestor tried to forget what had happened, but instead only suppressed the memory."
I nodded. "Hey, sorry for the change in subject, but do you guys have any clean clothes and… deodorant? I haven't changed clothes yet…"
Lucy looked at me funny and then led me out of the room. "We have only a few spares, but I get what you mean."
"Thanks," I said, rubbing the back of my head.
Lucy left me in the bathroom and handed me a stick of deodorant, and then found some clothes for me. Blue jeans, and a black shirt.
I quickly changed and glanced at myself in the mirror. I'd never been one to fix hair before, but even I could admit that my naturally curly brown hair looked like a rat's nest. After forcing a few strands down, I realized that my eyes looked strangely alive, almost like they'd been sleeping for such a long time, so they finally got some good ol' rest. I'd thought that it was a bit strange with Desmond and I; he and his ancestors looked really alike, especially with the identical scar on their lips, but Suna and I… we had the same brown hair, the same face shape, the shape of our eyes, but our eyes were too different. Suna's were sapphire-blue, and mine were liquid-gold. Everyone I knew always commented that my eyes were strange, and almost cat-like.
I opened the door and headed back to the main room when I wondered if Suna and I shared the same scars. Sure enough, we did. I had scars on my abdomen that I remembered were from those guards that had chased Suna when she'd first met Altair. And when I rolled my left sleeve up all the way to my shoulder, I found the scar that the archer had given her; the very one that Altair had patched up.
"Cool…" I muttered.
"Are you going to keep standing there and admiring yourself, or are you going to get back into the Animus?" Shaun snapped.
My body went frigid and I immediately rolled down my shirt (which, luckily, I had decided not to bring up further than the top of my abdomen). Rebecca was trying to hide her laughter by hiding behind her monitor, but I could see her shoulders shaking madly.
"S-Sorry!" I gasped. "I just… Desmond has the same scar as Altair and Ezio, so I was a bit curious…"
"So… do you?" Desmond asked.
It seemed like he wasn't the only one who was curious. I brought my sleeve back up and showed them the scar identical to the one from the archer, and then I lifted my shirt a tiny bit to show them the wounds his friends had given Suna after the archer's death.
"You probably got those throughout your career as an Assassin," Lucy remarked. "I don't see any other way you could've gotten them."
"Yeah…" I brought my shirt back down, as well as my sleeve. "Still…"
Lucy paused before she asked me to get into the Animus 2.0, though Rebecca insisted that everyone call it "Baby". Even the spare was supposed to be called Baby.
"So, are we gonna check that crazy memory of mine?" I asked.
Lucy nodded. "We might as well. And then we can get past that and figure out what's what. I don't see any break in the node from your ancestor, which means her memories stretch for pretty long, but I think that might be just a tiny glitch. Don't sweat about it."
I nodded. "Okay. Let's do this!"
"You're awfully excited," Lucy said. "Why?"
I shrugged. "I dunno. I guess its just nice to live a past, and be able to remember it."
1203
"Darim…" I sighed and took the wooden knife from the ten-year-old. "No. See, this is how you hold it!"
Darim took the knife back and imitated me. "Like… this?"
"That's better." I drew my own shortblade and held it in front of me defensively. "Now, I want you to try and hit me holding the blade like that. Don't worry; I will not fight back. But when you go up against a strong opponent, you want to find the cracks in their defence when you first start fighting. While attacking me, I will tell you where I could kill you. I want you to remember those spots and work hard to erase them from existence."
Darim nodded and attacked. His defence was full of holes, but I didn't chastise him about it. He would learn, eventually.
"Your left side!" I told him. "You attack using your left as momentum, when you should be using your right! If you use your left side while holding the blade in your right, and vice-versa, then you'll throw your weight around too much, and that side will be open to attack!"
Darim quickly righted himself and attacked again. I nodded in approval, and then caught his wooden shortblade.
"That is enough for today. Go and play with your friends, but remember to work on what I told you." I saw Darim smile and run off. I couldn't help but smile as well, and I watched him go. When he was gone from my sight, I put the wooden shortblade on the weapon stand and replaced my own silver shortblade onto my back.
"I thought you did not like it when young Assassins went to play with their friends?" Malik came and stood beside me. "Wasn't it something they did if they did not care about their training?"
"Yes, well, Darim worked hard today, so I decided it was worth rewarding." I headed into the main part of the keep, Malik following me. "You should take him as an Apprentice. He would learn much from you."
"I believe that it would be best if you took him on," Malik replied. "Altair and I taught you as best we could, so I am certain that you would do the same for Darim."
"I cannot," I said quickly. "Even I know there are limits. I am young, and I have not learned all I need to know. It would be best if someone wiser took him."
Malik laughed as I grabbed a book from the shelves. "You mean older, Suna! Even I know when you're joking, as much as you try to hide it!"
"Not hide it; it is merely immature." However, I couldn't help but smile.
"Your smile contradicts you, Suna." Malik patted my shoulder. I had heard from Maria and the other Assassins around Masyaf that Malik and Altair had rarely ever smiled, and then Maria became pregnant, Altair married, and Malik was his best friend and most trusted Assassin. Things tended to be brighter when they went your way. "But that is good. Our work, serious as it is, needs happiness sometimes."
I nodded in understanding and realized that the book I was holding was not the correct one. I checked through the shelves quickly and found that it was not there.
"Malik, where did 'The Art of War' get to?" I asked.
Malik studied the shelf and frowned. "It should have been here. No one is permitted to take books out of the keep; especially that one."
"Something is wrong," I observed, and slid the book I was holding back onto the shelf. "I can feel it."
"You investigate the area." Malik started up the stairs. "I will ask Altair to help me look for the book, just-in-case some fool placed the book elsewhere."
I nodded and headed out to Masyaf. The sun was getting low, but I knew that the book had to be retrieved. I spotted two men speaking furiously at each other, and sat on a bench not far from them.
"Why would he take the book from the Grandmaster's own collection?" one of the men raged. I recognized him as the potter. "He knows that it is foolish, and that he will be caught and punished!"
"I think he wants to be," the other man replied, stroking his beard. I remembered that he was the butcher. "Mohammad has never been one for rules, and is always looking for trouble."
Mohammad? I remember him. He tried to kill me once, but I did not tell the Grandmaster about it. He decided that that act of mercy was an insult. I shook my head. What a fool.
The potter looked around to see if anyone was watching. I pretended to be asleep, and then he leaned in and asked, "What do you mean?"
"Mohammad wants to be caught so he can fight another Assassin, preferably one who is already a Master," the butcher explained. "He believes that then, and only then, will he be recognized as a strong Assassin, and be brought up into the rank of 'Master'."
"The fool!" the potter scoffed. "Assassins are patient! He can't expect to be handed that title on a silver plate! We all know that Altair's adopted daughter, Suna, worked hard to become an Assassin! So what if Mohammad was training since he was born? What it comes down to is that Suna worked harder and had more talent than he! Now look! She is a Master Assassin, and has been since she was fourteen! Grandmaster Altair has not coddled her, and I remember many a day that she and Altair were at odds!"
"That's just it; Mohammad believes that Suna is not strong enough. He believes that the position of Master should have been given to him." The butcher shook his head. "That boy will get himself killed if he does not return that book. It is a very rare book, and I know that not even the Templars have it. If they got their hands on it… every strategy that the Assassins utilize will be known."
The potter crossed his arms. "Will you help me look for that fool boy?"
"I will. He will most likely be with his friends, as they never leave his side."
The butcher and the potter walked off. That was when I stood up and slid my hood over my head. Mohammad… You fool. That book is worth much to the Grandmaster. I will retrieve it, and I will ensure that justice is issued.
I sped across the rooftops and found Mohammad in no time, by the sea, harassing a woman… as usual. His friends and he were pushing her in a circle, and her balance was lost instantly.
I dropped in front of the woman, startling Mohammad and his friends. "Why don't you fight someone your own size, Mohammad?"
Mohammad laughed. "My own size? If you are implying that I fight you, then you must be blind and ignorant! I am a man, and you are a woman. I am naturally bigger and stronger than you are!"
"Is that what you wish to prove?" I asked as I helped the woman to her feet. "Is that why you stole the book?"
Mohammad laughed harder. "So that is why you come, Suna!"
The woman stared at me in recognition. "Suna? The young Master Assassin? Suna of the Shadow-Step?"
I tilted my head. It was no doubt that many people did not know what I looked like, since I never left the keep unless I was on a mission, but that last part…
"Shadow-Step?" I repeated. "My name is Suna. Why the nickname? When did I get a nickname?"
"You didn't know?" one of Mohammad's friends asked. "Around here, you are Suna of the Shadow-Step, known for never making a sound when stalking prey. Many people know you by that name, though it is only whispered."
"I… am speechless." I turned to the woman. "Can you get home by yourself? Or would you like me to help?"
She shook her head. "I can make it. Thank-you, Master Assassin."
As the woman ran off, it seemed that Mohammad had become angered by his friend and the woman, who had called me "Master Assassin".
"I will not return the book," Mohammad said as calmly as he could, then drew his sword, "unless you can defeat me and take it back."
"Mohammad, we are Assassins; brothers and sisters. Why fight each other? We have enemies that must be vanquished for the sake of the world!" I frowned. "Are your friends as keen about fighting me, as you are?"
Mohammad looked to his friends. One stepped away; the one who had told me about my nickname, while the other two drew their blades as well.
"Coward," Mohammad growled. "Leave then! I do not need someone who is too weak to draw their blade!"
"Against a comrade?" The young Assassin shook his head. "I see what Suna speaks of. We must let this go, Mohammad. Your time shall come."
"Be silent!" he snapped.
I drew my shortblade, my favourite weapon besides my hidden blade, and held it in front of myself defensively. "Your friend is wise. Drop your weapon, or I will make you."
Mohammad attacked. I parried the blow and kicked his side, then guarded against one of his friends. They locked our blades together, but I stepped back quickly. He was falling because of the weight he'd put forward and his face met my fist, sending him into his friend. The two fell to the ground in a tangle of arms and legs while Mohammad came at me again. I saw the book in his belt, and quickly formulated a plan.
"You!" I said to the Assassin who had refused to help Mohammad while I fended him off. "What is your name?"
"Talal!" he answered readily.
"Please get either Master Malik or Grandmaster Altair down here now!"
He nodded and ran off. I knew that, in their rage, Mohammad and his friends had not heard a word of what I asked of Talal. I connected my elbow to the face of the Assassin I'd already hit with my fist, and then slashed at his gut with my shortblade. It was shallow, so it would heal, but it was deep enough that I knew he would not get back up.
"You killed him!" Mohammad attacked me with a renewed vigor, but his rage blinded him. He did not see that I had only paralysed his friend.
His last friend swung his sword as hard as he could, and I side-stepped to avoid the swing. He tripped, his momentum carrying him, and headed towards the edge of the cliff. I grabbed the book from Mohammad's belt and then reached out, grabbing his friend's hand just before he fell.
I sighed in relief as I slid the book into my belt (Mohammad hadn't noticed that it was gone yet) and pulled the Assassin away from the edge. He looked up at me with a surprising admiration, and was about to say something when some blood was flicked onto his face.
I gasped and clutched the blade protruding from my gut. Mohammad slowly slid the sword out from my guts and through my back, but the blade did not cut through my leather gloves as I held it. I heard him start to laugh.
"Nothing is True," he remarked as he placed a hand on my back. "Everything is Permitted." He twisted me around and clenched the collar of my robes, then ripped my hood off of my head.
But I found the strength to glare at him. "You do not know the meaning of the phrase."
I knew it had angered him further. He would have said something else, had it not been for a voice cutting through the air.
"Suna!" Altair sprinted towards Mohammad and I.
I could see the worry in his eyes, even from how far away we were. I smiled and slid the book from my belt, and dropped it beside the Assassin I'd saved. Mohammad's muscles were tensing, warning me that he was about to toss me off of the cliff and into the sea.
But as he let go, I grabbed hold of him. "If I go," I told him, "I am taking you with me!"
Before he could react, we were plummeting towards the water. Mohammad screamed, but I embraced it. I knew death was coming, but death was something I was not afraid of. I had never been.
"SUNA!" I heard as we hit the water.
We plunged underneath the sea, the waves tossing us around like a feather in the wind. The salt stung my wound horribly, and my eyes, but even with my eyes opened under the water, I could not know which way was skyward.
I eventually closed my eyes as my heart slowed. I brushed against Mohammad, and I knew he was dead. He had been struggling desperately against the waves, as he had never been one to merely accept.
But then, I felt hands grab my body, and I was being dragged upwards. Breaking the surface of the water, I heard panting and gagging. I knew the panting well. It was Altair.
Altair brought me to the beach and tried to shake the water out of my lungs, but it did not prove most effective. It wasn't a moment later that, even the behind the darkness of my closed eyes, I saw a golden light. It was so bright, I almost mistook it for the Afterlife, but I knew it was not.
I always thought that, if I died young, I would ask that my hidden blade be given to Darim, and my shortblade to Sef. I knew that they would have more use of them than I would.
"Suna, do not leave!" Altair said to me. I would have given anything to reply, but I could not muster the strength. "I will not let you!"
