Iyad threw his door open and stomped inside, throwing his gloves off onto his desk. He wiped the dirt off his uniform, kicked the door open for Fath, who dragged behind, and threw his bag into the corner. She tried to follow him quickly and stood in awkwardly in the doorway when he wouldn't move. She huffed and nudged him out of the way, eager to get out of the hall. Iyad moved to stand in front of the window, looking out in the direction of the castle.
"Shit." He cursed. Fath frowned.
"That's a bad word."
"Shut up."
Outside, students and instructors were lining up their classes for the day. The teachers yelled at the novices and apprentices to stand up straight and look straight ahead, a sort of disciplinary practice to increase the awareness of your surroundings without moving your eyes to directly look at your target. Other classes were starting their mile jogging routine. This wasn't all there was though; all of the classes within the castle, whether it be in a group or on your own, switched out between training and studying in the library.
Iyad took a short breath and fell back onto his made bed. Curious, Fath closed the door and moved to join him, trying not to make a sound.
"We're supposed to be in class right now," He huffed. Fath's eyes grew in sudden realization. She turned to run, but he grabbed her arm. She fell to the floor, "It started a while ago…No use in going now." He let go of her arm and closed the window.
"Besides," He pulled a scroll from his desk and dropped it in her lap, "I'm supposed to get you caught up to the rest of us before the end of winter." Fath picked the piece delicately and held it out in front of her. She studied the wooden spirals carved for the handles and turned it around in her hands. The paper was old and scratchy.
When she laid it back down, she finally allowed herself to look around Iyad's room. It was messy; clothes were strewn on the back of his desk chair and hung off of other furniture like his bed and bureau. On top of the bureau, a dirty pair of underwear and socks wove in between little knick-knacks and pots of incense. She wrinkled her nose at the unfinished tomato on the desk.
"Do you live by yourself in here? Like Alty?"
"Who the hell is Alty?"
"Altair."
"You—you gave Master Altair a nickname?" He choked.
"He doesn't mind it. I could give you one too if you want." She smiled deviously. Iyad
pinched the bridge of his nose and handed her the scroll. She took it and tried to open it backwards.
"I'm sorry I asked…give me that." Iyad took the scroll away from her and yanked it open. It was a miracle that the parchment didn't tear.
Inside the scroll was row upon row of different symbols. He showed it to her, took one look at her expression, and laughed.
"Master Kazim told me that you probably couldn't read and that I needed to help him educate you. It was either this or more chores." He explained. Fath shrunk away from him and pulled her knees up. Why did he always have to mock her?
Iyad eyed her and pulled the scroll tighter, pointing to the first of many symbols and tracing the lines where they curved.
"Repeat after me."
It was late afternoon when the instructors out in around the village finally let the other novices go. Gray and white uniforms flooded the courtyard and swarmed around the training ring. The sky had grown increasingly dark since the moment they had first woken up. What started as a few clouds turned into a warzone of dark gray. It hadn't snowed yet, though.
Outside, Kazim and Tahir were fighting in the ring. Fath glanced out of the window and grinned. Kazim was winning. He was nice to her when they first met, but she thought that he was really quiet. She didn't really hear much about him either—only that he was really intelligent by the way that Iyad had talked about him.
In the ring, Tahir came down with his fist, aiming for his brother's shoulder, but Kazim blocked it at the last second and spun around. Tahir retracted his hand and aimed for the same spot only with his other hand, but Kazim blocked that too. They were moving so fast that Fath had trouble keeping up with the fight. Around the ring the crowd was going berserk.
Kazim's leg was sliding forward now, taking his brother's foot and sweeping it out from under him, but Tahir had his brother in a close lock and took him down with him. They were starting to tumble with each other now, arms locked, crowd jeering, silent insults, and Kazim's fist cracked against his brother's—
CLAP!
"Fath! Are you listening to me?" She turned around and made a face. After a moment, she sighed.
"I don't want to memorize anymore numbers."
She hated to sit still and listen to what he had to say. She hated the way he asked her to give examples, say them out loud and draw them twenty times each. Every time she would complain, he explained how Kazim made him responsible for her because Altair was slacking off; he always mentioned how it wasn't his fault and that Altair was supposed to teach her the basics and help her through her studies, not him.
They'd started up some small talk here and there. Simple things like how long he had been a novice and how long she'd been living in Jerusalem. The answer to both was 'all my life'. Iyad was known for playing pranks all over the village and sometimes even in the castle; he told her his story about how he was an only child and how much he liked the water and the outdoors. In fact, he wouldn't shut up about it. He had a great life, but she couldn't help but see how knowledgeable he was for being only eleven.
"What did you do in Jerusalem?" He mumbled, handing her another piece of paper.
"What?"
"I said, 'what did you do in Jerusalem'?"
"Not a lot," was her only reply. The parchment around them fluttered with the breeze coming in from the open window and some of the scraps flew to the far corner unnoticed. Iyad tossed his quill aside and let himself fall back into his pillows.
"That's really specific." He mumbled, rolling his eyes, "Keep writing," he ordered. She did.
"The people there just weren't very kind."
"I wouldn't be if we were in the middle of a Crusade either."
"Can I stop now?" She whined. Iyad sat up and looked over her progress. After a moment or two, he relented and stood up.
"We're going to have to continue later." They both rolled the scrolls and gathered their materials to return them to one of the cubbies on his desk. Being the only occupant in the room, he had double the space, like Altair. The only furniture he possessed was all basic: one desk, a bed, a chest, and a lone bookshelf.
"Let's go." He said, shrugging on his armor.
"Go where?" she asked. Iyad grabbed her hand, but she snatched it back, keeping it close. Iyad raised an eyebrow at her and offered her his hand instead.
"You want to go cause trouble?" he grinned, mischief dancing like fire in his eyes.
"Won't we get in trouble though?"
"That's half the fun, stupid." Ignoring the jab at her intelligence, she bit her bottom lip and cautiously stuck a hand out.
Iyad took his chance grabbed her hand in his, pulling her with him. She screamed that they forgot to close the door and he yelled back at her that if anyone stole anything he'd know, that it didn't matter, though she argued that it did. At this, she giggled. He was so carefree, maybe she shouldn't worry so much.
They got halfway down the hall when they bumped into a taller Assassin rounding the corner, causing them to skid to a halt. The figure bent down and picked Fath up, allowing Iyad to regain himself alone.
"Iyad, did you kidnap a village child?" the man asked. Fath stared up at him and innocently swung side to side.
"I'm an apprentice here. A novice." She stated. The Assassin grimly raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms.
"You're a little young…and feminine to be—"
"Go away, Mutasim." Iyad snapped, pulling her behind him. The older man smirked.
"I believe you two bumped into Me." he mused, "Who's her mentor?" Fath opened her mouth indignantly, but the older novice kept her quiet.
"I'm teaching her. Now move it." The three of them stood there for what seemed like ages before he finally moved out of the way, attempting to trip Iyad as he pulled her through.
"I'll see you soon, Fath." He said with a small wave and a malicious smile. When Fath only stared back at him, he continued walking.
Iyad ignored her whispers of protest when he kept dragging her forward. Iyad was practically trying to fold her into his back. A shield. Was this man dangerous, what did he do? Why does Iyad not like him? He seemed a little weird, but nice enough. She squeezed his hand.
"Let's go." He grumbled, yanking her back around him when they were finally in the clear. Down the hall, Mutasim was laughing. When they were far enough, she tried to stop him from running.
"Is he dangerous?" she asked warily. Iyad shook his head and started running again, letting go of her hand.
"Why did you want to leave so badly?"
"I didn't."
"But—"
"I didn't."
"I don't' understand why you never tell me anything," Fath breathed, glaring at the back of his head as they ran. Other than being suspicious, he only made Fath wonder if he was worth talking to at times. She couldn't be picky with her friends, though, and she knew that. How many boys here would want to train with a girl anyways?
"Just drop it and I'll tell you later," he relented, annoyed. They skidded around another corner and ran past a small group of older novices. One of them yelled at the two stop running in the halls and they slowed down momentarily. As soon as they were out of sight they both broke into a jog.
"Where are we going?" Fath asked while they ran down a flight of stairs.
"To my mother's house."
"I thought you wanted to—"
"Well, now I don't."
They made their descent down the pathway towards the village, quietly sneaking around all the remaining classes out training by the cliffs. The instructors didn't have a clue and the novices could care less who was sneaking out. They'd be punished later and Iyad knew this. It was disrespectful of them to leave, but the first quarter of training was already done and passed so it would just be a hassle to get in now, he reasoned. Might as well take advantage of their day off.
Fath followed closely behind Iyad, trying not to shiver and focusing on where they were actually headed. On their way wherever, she thought of where Altair was and what he was doing, who the man in the castle was earlier, and how much she hated studying.
The village was eerily quiet with the impending snow storm shadowing the land. A few shops in the market only held a handful of the regular merchants who were actually in the process of closing up; the usual socialites who loitered around the middle of the village were absent and the patrols were spread thin.
What nagged at her the most about the situation was the silence; she thought that it was too quiet as they walked down the roads of Masyaf that used to be filled with clusters of civilians, cart merchants, architects, and patrols. There were no screaming children playing tag or helping their mothers shop and there certainly were no elderly out and about. In the alleys, she could see makeshift shelters pinned to the walls of buildings with bodies of all sizes under each one. She could empathize with the homeless, the orphans, the poor and sick. She was one of them once and she knew how hard living outside at the mercy of the gods could be. Relying on the generosity of strangers wasn't always the best way to gain a decent meal either, if you could even call it generosity. She'd seen kids her age back in Jerusalem being pulled to their feet and hauled into houses, all of them coming out with a frown, but none of that mattered if you held a few coins in hand. Asking around, some of work they had to do was understandable. The rest of it was despicable. She may be young, but even the youngest of children can harbor hate in their hearts.
Instead of begging to noblemen on the streets, she had stolen from them. There wasn't anything she wouldn't risk for a possible meal. The guilt was bearable and she'd share her food with maybe a few other homeless men, women, children…so she forgave herself in time. Take from the rich, share with the poor.
Now, Fath could say that she was lucky. She was the luckiest girl alive. No more pick pocketing for gold coins, no more running away from angry guards, and no more lonely nights on the streets trying to find shelter from the rain.
"There's going to be a storm." Iyad mumbled. Fath stared up at the sky and opened her mouth, catching snowflakes on her tongue and smiling. Iyad made a face. "What are you doing?"
"My friend back in Jerusalem told me that snow was just frozen water. I didn't know that back then," She explained, "and it's fun." She fiddled with sleeves of her tunic and put up her hood. "How much farther is your mom's house?" Iyad shrugged.
"We're already here." He said, approaching small clay building with wooden shutters on the windows and vines climbing up the sides. Smoke was billowing out the chimney like opening at the top.. He opened the door and walked inside, kicking it open behind him for Fath. She followed silently and felt the warm air envelope her as she stepped into the doorway. The fire blazing in the shabby brick stove on the opposite side of the room lit the house with a warm glow, a pot of stew brewing over the flames giving the house an herbal smell.
"Mom?" He called. There was a soft clunk from the back of the house, some shuffling, and soon enough, a middle aged woman was making her way towards them from the back room. Her dark brown hair was tied back neatly in a bun; her dress was worn, brown with age and reached down to her ankles. In her arms, she held a cat who bounced lamely in her arms with each step.
"Iyad? You were here just yesterday." She smiled.
"I know, I just wanted to make sure you were ready for the storm is all."
Fath cocked her head to the side and observed. Well, this was a different side of him she hadn't seen.
"I'm fine, I'm fine. You and your father…he was always so worried too." She said, waving dismissively at him. She let the cat hop out of her arms and dusted the fur off her dress. "Shouldn't you be training right now, actually?"
Iyad pursed his lips and thought for a moment. Behind him, Fath shut the door with a soft thunk and shyly stared at the ground.
"Oh—uh, mom, this is Fath." He stammered. His mother's eyes shifted away from her son and fell upon the smaller figure behind him. She peered around her son's shoulders and raised an eyebrow.
"It's not often you bring a friend home, Iyad," she said, walking towards the pot by the fire, " You should know better than to skip training to play." Iyad frowned at his mother.
"It's not my fault we missed. She needed help studying and the scholars were unavailable." His mother wasn't impressed.
"What about her parents, couldn't they help her?"
"Mom, she isn't from the village. She's a new Novice at the castle." His mother stood up and took a good look at Fath, staring long and hard at her appearance before giving a small laugh.
"I apologize. I didn't see your robes. Iyad, why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"Mother!"
She laughed and turned back towards the pot of soup. "I'm only teasing, calm down. Rest up, you two. Just be back at the castle before the storm hits!"
"Yes mother. May we have some soup before we leave?"
"Just a little."
"Thanks."
Iyad steered Fath roughly by her sleeve and sat her down while he dished them out two bowls of beef stew, his mother settling herself down to sew. Outside, the wind howled and pushed lightly at the front of the windows.
With another gust of wind, the front door swung open. A busty woman stumbled inside with a young child following quickly behind her; the two looked disheveled as they closed the door firmly behind them. The woman regained her footing, kicked the door one last time, and took a deep breath.
"Ugh," she breathed, "the wind is picking up faster than I remember." The little boy at her feet rubbed at his arms and regarded the room with contempt in his eyes. Iyad didn't blame him. He'd rather be home than in some strangers house during a storm like this.
Iyad's mother gave her a tight lipped smile, eyes cast down at her creation. Iyad, still doling out soup, didn't even blink.
"Hello Aadila, Basil . What brings you barging into my home this late in the day?" she drawled, obviously annoyed. Fath stared at them over her shoulder, even while she accepted her share of stew. Iyad reached over and yanked on a lock of her hair, snapping her back around.
"Don't stare, it's rude." He said through a mouthful of soup. Fath rolled her eyes and looked away. Aadila bent down, ruffled the snow from her son's hair and dusted her skirt.
"My husband and his friends are drunk in my house. Again!" Aadila spat. "You know how he gets. It's bad enough he drinks all the good alcohol, but to destroy the house with his friends in their splendor? I've had enough for today." She finished. Iyad's mother sighed.
"I suppose you'll be staying in the back room again tonight? You can't keep doing this." Aadila sighed and nudged her boy out of the way as she made her way towards Iyad's mother.
"I know, I know. Just for tonight. Basil is scared out of his wits."
Fath peeked unknowingly over her shoulder at the young boy standing idly by the door and made a small face. He looked more bored than scared.
Iyad's mother reluctantly allowed them to stay and ordered Iyad to make them bowls of soup as well. Moments later, everyone was sitting near the fire, more or less enjoying their food.
"Did you hear?" Iyad's mother suddenly whispered to Aadila who glanced back at her.
"Hear what?"
"About Conrad?"
"Have I? HA!" Fath jumped and Iyad smirked at her, "Conrad of Montferrat…" she continued, "that coward. Hiding behind his wife last year and pushing Guy of Lusignan out of Jerusalem for the kingdom the next."
"He's the new King of Jerusalem then?"
"Yes…Richard sold Guy the Lordship to Cyprus instead." Aadila drawled.
"I've also heard that Conrad's son is up to no good too."
"Not again…last time we tangled with him our men came back either dead or covered in red."
"Then there was poor Tahir who lost his wife during the siege," Iyad's mother mumbled, lowering her voice even more, almost too low for Fath and Iyad to hear, "Didn't come out of his room for weeks after it happened, I think. Some of the other women even said that his own brother didn't even bother to lift a finger to help him during the battle." Aadila handed a bowl of stew to her son and scoffed.
"Well, I don't believe it! I see them speaking to each other every so often when I go up to help wash the robes! If I was Tahir and that happened I wouldn't speak to him at all, brother or not!" She said. "Oh! Did I forget to mention that Lawaiza spilled her husband's drinking water yesterday and he—"
"Did you hear that, Iyad?" Fath hissed, shaking his arm; the soup in his hands sloshed out of the bowl and splashed into his lap. He cried out frantically rubbed at his leg. His mother paused her and Aadila's gossip to glance at her son. She frowned in disapproval and tossed a rag his way.
"Be more careful! Don't waste anymore, Iyad." He and Fath grimaced and edged away from the mess. "I'm sorry." She whispered. When he calmed down, he stood up and bid his mother a goodnight, dragging her with him out into the snow.
"What the hell, Fath!" he cursed. The wind had picked up even more since Aadila's entrance minutes ago.
"Didn't you hear that?" she shouted of the wind, "Tahir lost his wife because of Kazim!" Iyad crossed his arms and started walking back towards the castle.
"Aadila also said that it could be false information!" He yelled. They still couldn't hear each other well.
"I want to ask Kazim about it!" Fath replied. Iyad laughed.
"You think he'd tell you? That's personal information!"
"What?"
"I said, that's personal information!"
"Personal? What does that mean!" They were nearing the beginning of the mountain to Masyaf's castle now. The two of them were constantly wiping snow out away from their eyes while they ran.
"It means—," he started, taking a breath, "—it means that he won't share it with you because he doesn't know you and you don't know him!"
"How do I get him to tell me, then?" she asked. A moment later and she fell face first into the snow with a yell. Iyad skidded to a stop, glaring at her body before taking her robes and yanking her up. He used her upper arm for leverage and soon she was out of the snow, gasping.
They both made it halfway up the first slope of the mountain before she stumbled again, not quite falling, but on her knees this time. The boots she had gotten from the novice earlier were too worn; they had no traction on the wet roads. Iyad reached down for her and, struggling, hauled her onto his back with a tight grunt. He jumped a bit to readjust her, finding it easy to maneuver even with the extra body.
"You weigh, like, nothing!" He yelled, appalled.
"Why can't he tell me?" she asked again, ignoring him. Iyad gave another grunt and jogged the rest of the slope with difficulty.
"Because he probably wouldn't want to!" He explained, blinking snow out of his eyes. Fath buried her head in the crook of his shoulder and relished in the warmth when she breathed. When she coughed into his shoulder, Iyad shouted at her and nearly dropped her back in the snow.
"Hey, stop that!" he scolded. Distracted, he suddenly slipped in the mud and plummeted face first into the ground, letting Fath tumble off into the snow to the side. The white, cold powder coated their hair, dirt rubbing onto their uniforms. Fath coughed again and sat up quickly, crawling to Iyad who got up with a groan.
"I hate the snow!" he bellowed, standing up and wiping slush out of his hair. Fath tried not to laugh as she yanked at his arm. The castle was in their sights now. Iyad stood up and slid a bit, but otherwise stood his ground. He picked her up again and carried them both up the path towards sanctuary.
"Where have you two been?"
Kazim stared menacingly down at the two snow covered novices in the room adjacent to the mess hall. Outside, the blizzard roared on, covering the mountains and village below. Fath wrung her hands together nervously. Iyad stood idly with his hands behind his back, shoulders squared, face passive and bored.
Kazim folded his arms and looked at Fath. "Stand still while I'm talking." He ordered. Fath flinched and dropped her arms. She looked down at the floor with humiliation in her eyes.
"You two didn't show up for training, let alone the first hour of dinner. Do you know how disrespectful that is towards your brothers and I? Disgusting behavior, even for you Iyad." They didn't answer. The wind outside punched at the windows and whistled through the cracks in the walls.
"I expected more out of you," He hissed, looking at Fath, "and I should have expected this much from you, Iyad." The novice merely stared up at him. Fath's eyes watered.
"I'm sorry, Kazim." she mumbled.
"There is no sorry on the battlefield so there shouldn't be any at all. If you aren't going to take your training seriously then there is no reason why you should be here! Don't you dare cry. Even if you are a girl, you are not to be given any special treatment. An assassin does not show his emotions, do I make myself clear?" Fath nodded stiffly. Kazim sighed, closed his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Go to your rooms." Fath quickly turned and started down the hallway, Iyad following leisurely. "I can reassure you both that Al Mualim will be hearing of this." Kazim called after them, opening and slamming the door to the mess hall. The younger girl sniffed and rubbed at her eyes. She had to be stronger than this. Altair said that Assassin's didn't show emotion and Kazim just said so too—that meant that she couldn't either. It was forbidden. She just had to be stronger than this.
"He doesn't mean it." said Iyad. Fath sniffed and glanced at him.
"Mean what?"
"He didn't mean what he said about expecting more from you. He lied."
"Why?"
"Because we broke the rules. He had to yell at us. If he didn't he'd be a bad teacher." Iyad explained. Fath pressed her lips together, but said nothing.
They both passed Al Mualim's study and turned down the hall leading to their respective tower; all the candles were lit in the halls, but it still felt like they were outside in the snow.
"Kazim doesn't punish his students physically like some of the other teachers here." He explained to her. "We don't know why, he just doesn't. Neither does his brother." They passed more rooms and more hallways. It was quiet. "No one asks about it, though. I asked Altair once, but he didn't answer." Fath frowned. "It's like everyone is afraid of each other here…we aren't brothers, we're more like enemies."
"I don't understand." She mumbled. Iyad rolled his eyes and led them up a flight of stairs.
"Of course you don't. You're only, what, nine?"
"I'm only a year younger than you!"
"Yeah, but maybe you'll understand when you're older." He laughed. She'd get there eventually, he figured.
The two of them climbed the rest of the stairs in silence, staring out the windows when they could on their way up. The snowstorm was slowing down, but the force of the winds still attacked the fortress and snow was starting to build up. Iyad joked that they'd be lucky to get outside with all this snow. Fath stared at him in horror. When they reached Iyad's room, he didn't say so much other than goodnight before closing his door, leaving her standing in the hallway.
She opened the door to Altair's room and went inside, yawning she found her mentor sitting at his desk, scrawling down information on a sheet of parchment. He didn't even glance up from his work.
"You're soaked." He said disapprovingly. 'It's snowing outside' was her reply.
She quickly changed clothing and tossed the wet uniform into a basket by the door. When she started to comb her hair with her fingers, she realized that maybe if she wanted to fit in more with the other students, she just had to look more like a boy. The first step to that would be to cut her hair. Cut her hair…
"Altair?" she mumbled, turning towards him. He had long since removed himself from his work to linger by the window. He glanced at her. She almost took it back, but no. She'd made up her mind a long time ago. "Would you help me cut my hair?" she finally asked, holding up her wet, brown locks. For a minute, he only blinked down at her, but finally, without any questions, he retrieved a knife from his belt and sat behind her on the floor. "Really short, okay?" she asked.
Back in Jerusalem, she'd have one of her few friends cut her hair for her, but never so short. It was hard to get away from guards and men with long hair because they'd often grab it to yank her back. She'd been caught a few times that way and mercifully been let go with only a kick or two to the stomach or whatever, but she liked her hair.
She could hear the sound of the blade slicing through her hair like a blade cutting through cloth. It hurt when Altair would pull a lock taught against the metal, but she didn't complain.
Snnnnnnnnnip.
Fath watched as he carelessly disposed the chestnut locks to the side. Little by little, she could feel the weight of her hair lighten. She didn't expect to look pretty, naturally. Boys were ugly so she had to be ugly if she wanted to fit in. At least, that's what she reasoned would make her be a boy instead of a girl.
Snnnnnnnnnip. Snnnnnnnnnnnnip.
Fath could feel every cut of the blade against her neck near the end, every stroke and tug of hair. The hair pile slowly grew until there was enough to make up a small cat. She could feel the air on her neck now, the air on her shoulders, and the breeze on her forehead. It felt nice, different. Maybe she could get used to being a boy. When he was done, Altair sheathed the knife and roughly dusted the hair off her back, almost pushing her over when he dusted her shoulders off.
"Finished." He said, "And you're cleaning this up." Fath grinned and ran her hands over her head. What used to be smooth and long was almost too short and choppy. The back of her neck was smooth and pretty much hair free. What had her laughing was the way he cut the hair on the back of her head. It was uneven and rough; some areas were longer and some were shorter. He shook his head and gave her small smile. "You look like a boy."
"Yeah." she quipped, shaking her head so little flakes of hair fell onto the ground and in her face. The older assassin only shook his head and glanced out the window where the snow pelted violently against the frame. Fath got up and started scooping her old hair into the trash bin. "Altair?" she asked.
"What?"
"Can you help me train some more tomorrow?"
AN: I'm trying to get into that 10 year old mentality...I hope it's working. XD
Anyways, I put some history into this chapter. Everything about Guy of L. and Conrad Mont. is true according to Wiki. It might not seem like there's any plot so far but trust me, there's going to be a time skip next chapter. I'm sorry for the long absence. I don't have as much time to write as I'd like to during the school year, but now that it's summer I'm trying my best to write. How's everyone's summer going? Hope everyone is well!
Thank you so much for all the favorites and follows on this story. It means so much to me. I love you guys...really. It makes me smile every time I receive a follow/favorite notice via email. It makes all this writing feel all the more worth it.
I'll update as soon as I can. Please expect a time skip next chapter. :)
Hope you guys liked it!
Stay chill~