For a couple of days straight, the party of Assassin's walked and trudged through this dreary weather. The most energetic out of the group was Ezio but that was slowly diminishing as the storm got worse and worse by the hour. Altaïr and Connor were grouchy from the rain while Desmond paid no mind, continuing on through the mud. They had searched the area for game but unfortunately nothing came their way so they scoured for berries, roots, water, and anything to stop their hunger. Connor had found a huge bush that kept water safe within its vibrant green leaves and left the water unharmed from any non-purified objects or critters. They all drunk till their bellies had the feeling they would explode out of the cavity, satisfying their hunger at the moment. Ezio decided to go ahead of the group, dashing through the brush, anything to get out of this God forsaken jungle. His feet echoed through the forest with brush, twigs, branches, mud, and sand crunching under his leather boots now worn out and soaking wet. The sounds of crashing waves erupted in front of Ezio, scaring him. He jumped, turned and ran back, not daring to face this mighty "creature."

He ran to the back of the party and pointed to the noise from the trail he had just created.

"The sounds over there don't sound too friendly to me!" Everybody listened closely, the trickling of water down the trees, crashing onto the ground, onto them, and through all of that they shrugged until they mulled over the sound once more, trying to distinguish the crashing. Desmond's face lit up and he ran as fast as he could along with Connor. They raced ahead of everybody, Desmond yelling on the top of his lungs, "Waves!" They kicked up mud behind them, making Altaïr go even sourer and Ezio raising his arms up, trying to protect his face from the brown invaders. Wiping off his robes and his face, Altaïr bitterly muttered something under his breath. He hated it here and would do anything to go back to Masyaf where the hot summers with no rain would keep him quite content for the rest of his life. Heck he'd take on Al Mualim or Robert De Sable if he had the chance. Ezio cursed in Italian, he didn't mind the rain but now his handsome face was somewhat stained brown from the mud and underneath it was pale due to the amount of rain they had been receiving. Calmly Ezio asked Altaïr how big the waves were that he heard just before the others took off.

Sighing, Altaïr listened, using his sensitive hearing to his advantage. They walked through most of the jungle and even though they sounded far away it bellowed like a storm that hovered over both him and Ezio. He wasn't good at math the only time it came into play is when there was an assassination he had to preform, even then it was very simple math from how many guards there are, to the timing of the target coming in or out and the right time to strike his target down. He turned to the Italain and saw Ezio peer into a muddy puddle, scooping some water out of the bushes leaves, wiping it against his face, as though trying to rub things off.

"I cannot say."

"Then I will try to delay arriving onto the beach then." Ezio muttered, really wishing he was back in Venezia where there were canals and not huge waves that sounded like something going to eat him. Altaïr silently agreed, he didn't want to face these waves since he was terrified of water because one he lived out in the desert so there was barely any water and two there wasn't a river, lake, or ocean for miles so he truly didn't learn how to swim. Ezio was only scared of the water because of the noise it created along with the storm that got to the point where trees fall to the sound of the thunder claps, the water flooded parts of the jungle making everyone climb into the trees and navigate around the murky brown pools of rain water, and the ground at times gave in. Ezio had no problems with water since he was the best swimmer out of the family but watched Altaïr's body language.

His body was unusually stiff as though the Syrian was expecting a blow and at the mere mention of the word 'water,' he'd flinch as though he'd gotten pinched by an invisible hand. Ezio wanted to shrug it off but the closer they got to the resounding beach, the more he was anxious to stay back into the jungle. It would've been fine but there was nowhere to build a fire there. They reached the edge of the jungle where in view was a large mass of land, with miniature puddles and surprisingly not as much rain. The two Assassins' looked to one another and raised an eyebrow. The same thought simultaneously passed through their head just as a thirty foot tall wave towered over the unsuspecting pair: 'Where's the other two?'

The wave crashed onto the cliff and they parted, Ezio clinging onto a big boulder, the sea salt stinging his eyes and Altaïr who was carried back into the ocean, his yells drowned out by the churning sounds of the surf as it sucked him under. He thrashed against the constricting current, feeling his whole body being thrown and turned as he helplessly tried to swim up to the surface. He failed, only managing to stay in one place but another wave swept him upwards, successfully getting a gulp of air before another wave pushed him under, the ocean carrying him like he was a leaf in the most powerful rapids on the planet. Altaïr tried to fight the beast of the ocean only to fail as air bubbles escaped his scarred lips. The water pressure was too much, his lungs hurt, his legs and arms went numb, the cold water threatening to freeze him. He slowly sunk and his pupils shrank to tiny slits as a flashback came to him.

It was a very hot and sunny day in Masyaf; the people were stirring with activity like they usually did. Most of the children played in the streets or helped their parents with chores such as fetching water from the well or attending to the livestock that couldn't escape the blistering heat as easily as the citizens did. Within the castle of Masyaf where the Assassin's lived and trained, Umar was working at his desk as usual while Altaïr was looking out the window. The boy felt a tiny cool breeze filter in through the window, rippling through his dishwasher blonde hair, his face plastered from the liquid heat that tormented him more than his father.

Umar turned from the desk to look at his only son. He was his pride and joy ever since his wife passed away. Altaïr resembled his mother in every shape and form from his eyes to the way he acted amongst strangers. He was strong and silent unless something piqued his interest. With a sigh escaping his lips, Umar approached his son and wrapped him in a gentle hug feeling the same breeze infiltrate his burning skin. Altaïr didn't move but stood still, watching as the other children ran out of the training area, disappearing beyond the iron gate where the gate stood agape to the citizens. The only time it was closed was to invading enemies which hasn't happened for a while.

"Father, can I go out to the well today?"

"No not today my son. We have enough water to last us a whole month." Umar shook Altaïr gently on the shoulder and all Altaïr could do was stare out the window.

Altaïr snapped back to his senses and tried swimming again, feeling his lungs became ever more painful from the pressure upon his chest and his face turned blue. The heaviness of his weapons were unbearable weights. Altaïr undid his weapons belt as quickly as he could, the leather slipping through his gloved hands and he pushed off of something hard, shooting himself upwards, his weapons sunk heavily into the sand below. Altaïr struggled as he saw something, a light that made him warm as though he stepped inside a warm bath. His thoughts went blank, not even thinking about the pain in his chest or the panic that had once invaded his senses. Air bubbles escaped him but they weren't important to him or his lungs exploding for air. The warmth made his thoughts retreat into the back of his mind, his body sinking.

He didn't know how he managed to get out of the fortress but now here he was with a little group of children from the village, gathered at the edge of the riverbank. It wasn't a vivid green but looked like a washed out photograph as the river raged with waves spurning and turning violently. Three or four kids went only to the shallow parts, making the water spray onto themselves while two other elder children swam across the river and back, giggling at the dares they dared each other. Altaïr stayed on the land, unsure of whether to bask himself in the coolness of the river or head back to Masyaf before his father or one of his comrades finds him here. One of the kids that accompanied him looked at Altaïr, his black hair sopping wet from dunking himself under the water, walked towards him, his clothes weighted down from the river.

His brown eyes twinkled with happiness and Altaïr only saw him a couple times but he was one of the Assassin's children. 'I guess his father let him come down here.'

"Hey Altaïr, want to climb the tree over the river?" he pointed to an old tree that hung over the deepest part of the river. It was a popular climb for those who mastered the skill. The leaves were there no more and the twigs wilted from the lack of hydration.

Altaïr nodded and the mystery kid climbed up the tree first, scurrying sloppily to the thicker part of the tree where it hung over the river. Altaïr followed behind him.

"Did your father want you here?"

"No, my dad said that it was so hot people would burst but I told him then we would've exploded." They climbed to the part where beyond the thick point of the hanging tree were two limbs, both wilted and they didn't see the hazard as they sat upon them. Their feet were being cooled by the spray of the river, sending automatic relief to their overheating bodies. Altaïr explained his situation with his father and the kid across from him smiled. The tree creaked and groaned but neither noticed as they discussed several things about the order.

"I don't understand," the kid began, kicking his feet lazily over the branch. "Why do those people called the Templars want to take control of everybody? It wouldn't work we can never be controlled."

"I agree." Altaïr nodded, feeling something was off. Not the boy in particular but did he sink a couple inches? He couldn't tell but that was the least of his worries.

The sounds of horses whinnying caught both of the boys attentions and they froze. There standing under their tree were three men from the fortress. At the head was Umar, in the rear was another Assassin named Torik, his light brown eyes sparkling with disapproved rejection at their actions, and Al Mualim, the Mentor. Both of the boys shook with fear as Al Mualim approached the base of the tree. His voice was gentle and calm as he called up to them, making them tense more.

"You two should get down now, it is too dangerous to be up there, especially in this particular weather-"Without any warning, the branch that one of the boys sat one crunched under the pressure and Altaïr plummeted down into the river. He was caught by surprise but the water overwhelmed him, feeling his sense give out. He closed his eyes and in turn surrendered to the darkness, catching one sound and it was human.

"Altaïr! Wake up!" Ezio screamed, slapping the man across the cheek. He had found his body floating within the calm waves of the pool. Before that, Ezio couldn't find Altaïr for ten minutes at the most from the churning waves. He called and called but got no reply except for waves that crashed onto the cliffside, shaking Ezio greatly before he used the wave to his advantage. The next surf dragged him into the ocean just how the ocean did to Altaïr. Ezio forced his eyes open and let the current drag him to wherever Altaïr was. He surfaced a couple of times before arriving to what looked like an underwater cave. It was dark and spooky, something out of a modern day horror movie. With adrenaline pumping, he dove again but hurried his swimming pace to find the man.

His eyes adjusted to the dark but he couldn't tell if there was a body here so he was his rare skill turning an infrared vision on, looking for a golden body. Scoping out the cave, he finally fell upon a golden target that floated harmlessly upon the surface of a pool. Approaching the body he would've let out a sigh of relief. Altaïr wasn't face down and even better was that he was breathing slow and steady breaths. Ezio hauled his comrade into the cove, straining his arms to the point that his arms felt like they were being slowly torn from his sockets.

Altaïr stirred a bit but uttered a word more like a name that Ezio couldn't really recognize but it sounded as though he was afraid. Afraid of whatever or whoever it was. Altaïr did go into random spasms like Desmond did except it wasn't as scary or life threatening rather he was rolling around, trying to free himself from a nightmare. It was failing as his breathing lessened and lessened making Ezio panic. Not knowing what he was doing, Ezio slapped Altaïr across the face as hard as he could; it drew blood from under the Syrian's eyelid. Finally out of desperation, Ezio gathered a handful of the cold water and threw it in the man's face.

Altaïr bellowed a scream, panting uncontrollably, clutching his chest as though reassuring himself it was a dream. He snapped out of his memory and looked around. They were inside something of a cave, dark blue and the only light was from the shimmering pool, it rippled the light onto the walls and onto his Italian companion, whose face looked worried and solemn. He was wet to the point of his clothes threatening to be pulled off and Altaïr looked down kind of realizing his situation a bit. He was obviously wet. The pain on his back throbbed violently and it spasmed hard too, it would've made an average man wince and scream at the pain but Altaïr could tolerate it. He was trained to.

The cave rumbled slightly and Ezio steadied himself as he rose, riding out the vibration. He wrung his clothes dry, gesturing for Altaïr to do the same but out of politeness, he refused. Just for the moment anyways.

"Where are the others?" he asked hoarsely as Ezio wrapped one of the Syrians arms around his own shoulder, supporting him against the semi dry robes. With a grunt, Ezio replied, "I don't know, I was too worried about you to actually find out where they went." Altaïr understood. They were missing and unfortunately, this meant that they were on their own at least for a while if they found some comrades or allies.

The cavern was dark and it wasn't helpful especially when the walls started to get tighter and tighter. It was a claustrophobic moment. It was too constricting, making the Assassin's resort to the only option that was important in that instance: a time to rest. Ezio helped Altaïr back onto the ground, the wound on his backside still throbbing painfully. Too much pain as a rock scraped against the wound causing fresh blood to flow freely with a grunt escaping his lungs. Ezio ripped a piece of his dark cape off and felt around Altaïr's torso desperate to staunch the blood. A hand that missed a finger grabbed the Italians wrist with his quick reflexes and Ezio went stiff with fear.

"I'll guide you." The deep voice murmured, guiding Ezio's wrist to the wayside of his back.

With a tight nod, he resumed following the directions carefully. After a couple of tries and dry laughs, the cloth rested upon the cut, making Altaïr wince in pain. Ezio did a victory dance in his head but knew that this wasn't enough of a medical treatment. He looked into those deep golden eyes, the eagle eyes, and saw the coldness that was masking an emotion, an emotion that didn't want to be opened. He turned away and ran, his voice echoing back the usual call, "I'm going to get some water!" It was a way to get out of a semi awkward situation but one that seemed a bit appropriate for this moment. Altaïr looked after the Italian and gave a smirk before his vision clouded again as he revisited the last part of the memory, his mind slipping into a torpor state.

He had given up. He couldn't remember anything else that had happened. The coldness of the water paralyzed his whole being physically and mentally, the darkness that had now consumed him but when he awoke, he was facing the piercing gaze of the hot and vengeful sun, with the sounds of ecstatic surprise resounding around him. Exclamations came as well when Altaïr pushed himself up off the ground coughing the water out of his lungs. He gurgled at the taste of the fresh water now tainted with blood. The sound of his name sounded desperate almost pleading with him about what he couldn't say. Everything to him was cloudy and uncertain; he readjusted his arms and legs, standing up but with his body racking. He stumbled and nearly fell but he kept his stance, waiting for the dizziness to cease its troublesome actions. Altaïr was unaware of where he was until the feeling of warm arms encompassing him within a strong embrace. It was tight and all Altaïr could do was slowly, mechanically, hug back. A soft cry erupted from the blur and the young boy's eyes focused in more, recognizing the facial features slowly. The broad nose, the dark forest green eyes, and the grey stubble painted along the jawline was his dear father, crying with soft tears showering the boy's face.

"My dear little eagle, don't scare me like that again!" Umar cried with relief and harshness. All Altaïr could do was nod and rest against his father.

This moment could've been a little bit longer but a cough startled the family reunion, turning their attention to the other two men and the boy that was being held by one of the Assassin's in a death grip. He looked feeble and frightened in his rags for clothing compared to the Assassin dressed in his magnificent white robes. The boy kind of trembled but otherwise was fixated in a daze usually when witnessing something terrible. It didn't matter to Altaïr or his father, rather the Mentor approached both of them, his rich honey voice making Altaïr feel warm and welcomed within the presence.

"Are you alright child? That was a fall you had and the water, it could've killed you!" Nodding Altaïr watched as another Assassin approached the master, bowing his head.

"I'm sorry Al Mualim; I must've not told my son that it is dangerous to climb the old tree. My apologies." Al Mualim didn't pay attention to the Assassin rather his blind eye focused onto the wet boy. He gave a tiny sigh and got onto his feet.

"Let's get back to Masyaf shall we? I still have important work for everybody to get done quickly. He turned to face the horses and nearly mounted Umar's white stallion but he paused.

His black robes cut through the still air and in his voice that was so gentle and soft, that Altaïr had to strain to hear the words through the mans old and cracked lips.

"Umar, you may take a day off for now. I bet your son will need you after the time in the current." Neither he nor his father could believe their ears! The master giving them the day off? It was a forbidden dream but the wish was granted as Al Mualim clambered onto the restless horse, the horse pawing the ground angrily. Nobody could ride that stubborn horse except for Umar and Altaïr. The horse was designated to them and people took it as a sign of a great strength amidst the family but they, Umar and Altaïr ignored it. Umar and Altaïr loaded onto a black stallion with silky fur and was permitted to be the head while Al Mualim rode behind, bringing the back of the party on a white mare with blood red eyes and a fiery temper. Altaïr wanted the white stallion for it was his father's but the Mentor refused simply giving the excuse "too wild for a recovering victim." It was believable to for the mare would rear, buck, and whinny aggressively against its new rider. Al Mualim stayed strong though. He fought the horse with the reins, keeping him under control for a certain amount of time. Altaïr watched as the river slowly diminished from his fearful golden gaze and soon arrived in their chambers, still struck down with the haunting memory of the river.

Okay, sorry about that, my laptop is being dumb so a whole month it said that my flash drive which held my fanfic was in error and needed to be replaced. So I tried it again and two months later now it says, "Oh well you can work!" I need a new laptop so it may take me awhile to write new fanfic. Hang on; chapter 12 is in the works as we speak. Love from The Cherryblossom Tree 3