Hello!

As this kind of late chapter betrays, I might have forgotten that yesterday (for me) was Wednesday which meant a new chapter to post. At least, I recalled today.

Here we have a little insight chapter I would say, I really love how this all came out, so look forward to: Allen's thoughts about the assassins, meeting the OC that will be recurrent, Altaïr's thoughts, and Allen&Altaïr being cute. Also: Allen is clever with getting Altaïr where he wants, all in good intents; and Altaïr not blind to it. After a bit. He doesn't mind.

I hope you enjoy!

Assassin's Light

Chapter 10

The wind breezed through Allen's white hairs as his silver eyes watched people move, train, patrol. He had found himself back outside, Altaïr had needed to focus on what was his work as Mentor, and as Malik reminded Allen, the young man did need to take it easy still. The one armed man had then suggested he could watch the training master with the recruits, to get an idea of a few things.

Allen didn't know it was also because the training master, Rauf, was loyal to Altaïr, and would keep an eye on Allen, maybe to assess the young man a bit, but above all to make sure he would not be bothered.

Watching the training amazed Allen, this was similar yet different to the sparring and training he was used to, both from the different era this world was in, and the skills strengthened. Sometimes, he would see the obvious way something was trained for the kill, and it made an odd mix of feeling stir.

He didn't like the idea that assassination was an option, and the way chosen by all these people. But at the same time, could he deny that even in his world, at different eras, battles and death existed? Now, assassins were another matter, not accidental; but it was soothed by the morals, the rules they had.

No, Allen was not one to kill humans, his own Innocence had evolved with the means to fight the Noahs without killing, and there was still the worry he would be forced to, but as long as he could, and he would damn well make sure he could; he would not kill humans. He wanted to say he killed no one, but…

He had never quite forgotten Akumas like Eliade, or Mimi, so human in their emotions. Akumas needed to be stopped, the souls released, but how much of the actual Akuma was its own being? If there wasn't a soul attached, would he even be able to slay them? Certainly, he would protect humans, protect all those the Akumas hurt, but…

These were questions that he could not afford to think about too much, yet they still existed. He was not an assassin, but he could not deny the way he had been called a soldier, and the line between both could be thin.

Still, what remained true at its core was that he fought for the Akumas and humans alike. And maybe… maybe being here, around these people, taught by Altaïr, maybe it would help him.

A shadow fell on his legs, making Allen blink before he quickly looked to the side, realizing a few trainees taking a break had come to rest close by, and one had approached, curious and that small bit awkward. Allen offered a smile, which seemed to soothe the other.

"Hello, Allen right? I'm Hakim." The man introduced himself, although Allen realized he wasn't that much older than Allen himself, probably 21 or 22.

"Nice to meet you, Hakim," Allen nodded, smile a little softer, especially at the way Hakim's eyes seemed to lit up. A social one then, and possibly relatively new.

"Pardon me but… Some of us heard something about your training? Are you..." Hakim started to ask, trailing off, and Allen took mercy.

"Ah, not quite?" Allen scratched his cheek with a finger. "The Apple took me far away from my own battles, in truth. I can't pledge myself to a new one. However, it seems our ideals are very similar. Master Altaïr decided I had skills he could learn and make use of, and in return I am unofficially part of the fighting force if necessary, which is why he wants me trained, until I need to go back."

Altaïr and Malik had warned him to be careful of not revealing certain things, especially the truth about dimensions or the difference in era, or his Innocence; but Allen knew well how to speak truthfully yet still hide things. They had discussed what he could say, how he could; and then, they simply trusted Allen to do what was best.

Hakim seemed surprised, but now he was smiling easily. Allen pretended he didn't notice the rest of the other recruits that must be Hakim's friends slowly drift closer, no doubt hearing them now. "I see… Well I can't say I am too surprised that you have your own fight." He grinned. "We saw you spar with the Mentor earlier."

Allen rubbed the back of his neck. "It was more of a testing, though. I am not sure I would have even lasted more than a few seconds if it had been anything but basics attack-and-defence turns."

It was another of the group that laughed lightly. "Maybe so, but not many can even do what you did for these."

And then another butted in, as if they had lost all pretence. "You do have a fighting style that feels different, though. Is it from where you come from?" A pause, then, "You come from where? Not around these parts, obviously."

Allen chuckled, something warm and fond in his chest. He knew not all were quite open to his presence, but it felt nice, to see some almost welcome him, simply curious. "I'm from England, although I've travelled through a few European countries."

A sudden chill down his spine and what felt like a snarl from Crown Clown made Allen react. He jumped off from the small wall he had been sitting on, turning while taking a few steps back. A knife hit where he had been a second before, though Allen noticed that it had been aimed to scare him and not injure him, likely to graze him lightly or pin his clothing.

Crown was still rather unhappy though, and Allen shifted his gaze to where it was directing the wave of protective annoyance. The culprit seemed a bit startled, both from how Allen had avoided the knife, and how he spotted them. Or maybe it had to do with the sharp call from the training master, who heard the surprised little yells of Hakim and his friends.

Allen recognized the man, though. Hadn't he been around this Abbas before? And one of the men who had not looked too happy about Altaïr's decision. Allen made sense of Crown's still protective anger, then.

His Innocence liked Altaïr, for how he had treated Allen, and so, it was not just disgruntled with how they attacked Allen, no matter the intent. It was also sensing this man was someone who did not have good feelings toward Altaïr.

Allen watched the training master, who had went to the man, reprimand him. Allen's eyes were on the man though, gaze almost deadpan, then brought his attention to Hakim, who had put a hand on his shoulder and inquired with worry if he was fine.

Allen smiled. "Of course. This wasn't meant to hurt me, anyway." He gave a little grin, lowering his voice with mischief in it. "I'm almost sad he didn't try to do something up close, I could have thrown him."

Hakim laughed, his friends snickered, but when Allen glanced backward, past the training master who was now approaching him, he met the man's glare with his own.

Allen didn't care about that attempt. Hell, Lavi himself would have been the kind to prank him in similar manner, maybe not with something sharp, but certainty startlement. Don't get him started on Kanda's willingness to poke with Mugen anyone who bothered him enough. However, what Allen disliked was the knowledge it was not so much about Allen himself, but about Altaïr's decisions.

The Mentor might have chosen to give Allen a safe place, to implicitly protect him; but that did not mean it was a one-way deal.

And if there was one thing that motivated Allen quite well, it was to be the protector. The destroyer who saved, wasn't he?

"I apologize for Nasim's behaviour." The training maser told Allen, eyes quickly checking that the knife had really not touched Allen. "That was good reflexes, which I am happy you have." The man smiled. "I look forward to when you can train with us." He then extended his hand. "I'm Rauf."

Allen returned the smile, and shook hand with Rauf. "Allen, although I think everyone knows." He joked, widening the training master's smile.

Then the man returned to the recruits, Allen sat back on the wall as Hakim and his friends got back to training; and Nasim had left, but not without last looks toward the interactions.

Not without feeling bothered again by the way Allen glanced at him, silver eyes showing nothing, yet still enough to make the man know he should warn Abbas.

You were right, Abbas. This boy will be troubles.

Altaïr stretched his legs out and his arms up, sighing in relief. Malik had left by now, leaving the Mentor to work out a few more things. The situation in Masyaf was decent, the one through the Holy Land was not bad, but certainly in need of watch. In Acre's especially, it seemed the Templars still had a solid influence in its port.

They were also like shadows now, at first forced to slow down, halt almost, from the loss of their Grandmaster, Robert de Sablé. But the Templars were still around, still mixed within the Crusaders, and had gotten the idea of not being as open as to what they were doing.

It was forcing Altaïr to call for more discreet missions when it concerned them, but also to be careful for all others too, unsure of who could report to the Templar. Besides, the time of striking in broad daylight, sending a message and being recognized so easily, it might be one that needed to change.

He glanced down at the rough sketch of new methods they could use, including poison. Theirs was a way that did not bring needless suffering, but many poisons could work fast. But these were changes his Brothers were not fond of.

And then… There was Allen. Altaïr had already seen one, two little things that could provide helpful for Assassins to learn. But it was not just in terms of skills, of fighting. The man was not blind, not to his own self, even less since he learned the hard way that if he allowed himself to not question certain things, he could be used.

Allen had a charm that he seemed unaware of, one that Altaïr could only associate with the light of the sun. It was sometimes blinding in its intensity, and at other times it was warm, gentle. You felt like looking away, but you also wanted to feel it, keep it in sight. You felt refreshed. And sometimes, you felt like listening, watching; as if Allen was a guide, not one who preached, but simply one whose presence you would focus on, willingly or not.

Allen was like the brightest glow of the sun before it set. And the imagery both softened Altaïr's heart and hardened the lines of his mouth.

A rational part of his mind wondered how much of his concerns should this other world of Allen's be. The Assassins were sworn to freedom, to peace; they asked of themselves to learn to be wise, to question everything and to not accept single truths.

And so, should he accept that this second world was now part of his own? Now that he knew of it, that he knew he had never questioned before the existence of other worlds, how much should he wonder?

The replies to these questions could have immense consequences. If he, as the Mentor of the Assassins, decided that this other world deserved to have its own Assassin's Order, an organization to serve from the darkness this other world…

Altaïr rubbed his temples. Never would he have guessed that he would not only have to handle rebuilding their Order, but also that he would need to consider a whole other world too. He had already been thinking about how to expand their influence, bring more Bureaus to more cities, more lands. But that… was quite the influence he would aim to reach.

And once more, how much rights did he have? This was not a question any man would think to ever ponder. Altaïr had voiced the idea to Malik, but the man too seemed uncertain. Like Altaïr, Malik wavered between both arguments, between the feeling that now that they knew, they could not turn a blind eye to a whole world of people who they did not know if they had anything like the Assassins; and between the feeling that it was not the same as faraway lands.

Should Altaïr ask Allen, then? But would the young man be able to think about it without being influenced by his dislike of kills? In logical ways, Allen seemed someone who could think objectively. Yet… Maybe it would better to only ask if Altaïr himself had a better grip on how he felt about it.

What Altaïr did know, though, was that Allen needed to stay for now, for enough time to figure out some things. And, maybe, so Altaïr could learn as much as he could from Allen, and teach Allen himself.

The mental image of the Apple flickered in his mind, the stray thought that it might provide answers. Not just about Allen, but also many things. It had already planted in his mind a map that showed places that as far as people know did not exist, or had not discovered, since there was so much water between them. It had planted unfinished ideas for how to improve the hidden blade, for other weapons.

How much could he allow himself to seek its knowledge? How could he protect his mind from its influence?

How could he make sure it would not affect Allen himself?

Altaïr breathed out a laugh. Seems like I need you and your opinions, now that you entered my life… He mused, sighing. He should feel disconcerted, and in some ways he did; but it was still so close to how unsettling it had been to discover Al Mualim's intents, how the past few months had changed his life, and his own self, the arrogance and certainty of his ways weakened and carved anew as he started to truly ponder.

So what was another element that was different, new, bringing changes? What was another element that left him curious and questioning like he had rarely been?

Lips twitched, lifting at the corner; amber eyes unknowingly burning.

Allen was a mystery, a bundle of questions and wonders, to unravel and understand; almost shadowing the Apple. Certainly, Allen was an interest to take better than the Apple; and maybe it was all for the better, the Apple could be a tool but not a goal.

Maybe Allen could even teach him how to protect his mind. Hadn't he mentioned it had been easy, in relative ways, to do?

A flare of dark anger burned his chest, and with it a twist of worry. Altaïr needed to know more about this entity, this second person that threatened Allen's mind. That was one threat that he could not ignore, though not so much the one for his Brothers. The most important was to keep an eye on the threat for Allen, because if Altaïr made sure to protect Allen, it would protect his Brothers too.

But the other way around would not protect Allen; and who knew if it would even truly keep his Brothers safe? He was still protecting the Brotherhood, more so if it became true that this other world needed them. Allen would be their sole link toward it.

Altaïr blinked as something golden entered his line of sight. He had barely a second to recognize Timcanpy before the little being happened to press himself to Altaïr's face, covering it. The man made a sound of surprise that he would deny was anywhere close to a squeak, leaning back in his chair in a quick movement, one hand lifting to grab the small menace.

"Tim!" came the sharp, if amused, call; and Allen's hand grabbed Timcanpy first.

Altaïr's hand covered Allen's in the next moment, and both paused in their movements from the contact, the smooth and warm skin telling Altaïr it was the left hand, ungloved. Then Altaïr dropped his hand, and Allen moved Timcanpy off his face, the golem not resisting but very much grinning; which revealed Allen's sheepish smile and blushing cheeks.

"Sorry, you seemed very thoughtful and I might have mentioned something about bringing you back." He lowered his gaze, one finger of each hand busy stretching Timcanpy's mouth and body, which the golem seemed all too happy about. "Didn't think this little menace would go for it."

"You were thinking of smacking my face?" Altaïr asked, lifting eyebrows, expression showing nothing of the amusement, and mischief, he felt.

As predicted, Allen widened his eyes a bit, letting go of Timcanpy to wave his hands. "No! Of course not-Tim."

Altaïr snorted, both from the long suffering tone Allen's voice had change into at the last word, and the golem that now act as a munching-happy hat. "How do you even still have hairs?" He found himself commenting, the tease in his voice not hidden anymore.

Allen pouted his way, crossing his arms. "The true miracle, I guess." He replied, too deadpan to be anything but teasing back. Something in his expression shifted, eyes more watchful. "You should take a break. You've been in there since I left, and since Malik left."

Altaïr stared at Allen, the young man squirming a bit under that look, but keeping his own gaze on him, little frown of concern showing. The Mentor noticed the way Allen also looked around briefly, no doubt taking into the few documents and notes across his desk.

Something incredibly soft and nostalgic appeared when Allen smiled. "Is it common to all leaders to have so many papers?" He teased, then, he chuckled and shook his head. "Although… I don't think anyone can avoid their papers as much as Komui would."

Altaïr leaned back against his chair, a curious glint in his eyes. "Your leader?" His gaze flickered to the various papers on his desk. "I can't say I'd blame anyone who would rather not to these."

Allen snorted, then leaned against the desk, mostly facing Altaïr. "Komui is the Chief of our Headquarters. He's, for the most part, the one who leads us. He has people above him, but unless they're giving orders to our Generals, they leave the handling to Komui." His lips twitched. "His second in command, Reever, is the lead for the scientists, and also the one who is always trying to get Komui do work on his papers." The young man let out a long suffering sigh. "I was almost stabbed by another Exorcist because Komui hadn't seen the letter Shishou had send them to tell of my arrival."

Altaïr noticed the fondness in which Allen was talking of Komui, and it made something deep within long for it, long for his own Brothers to be able to feel in such a way, or at least, in a positive way. But for that… He had to prove himself, didn't he?

"He sounds like quite the character, your Komui." Altaïr commented. "But I'm assuming this tendency of his doesn't stop him from being a good leader?"

Allen's smile was warm. "I don't think he's much older than you, and it was a few years ago that he became the Head Chief. He joined as a scientist, from what I heard, and climbed his way up." His voice lowered, something both sad and angry, almost troubled in his eyes. "He wanted to be by his sister's side. I never fully heard the whole thing, but I've seen Lenalee around the ones from Central… They took her away when she was discovered as Accomodator, kept her by force, and it was only when Komui became the Head Chief that he was able to protect her and help her. It's not just her, he always does his best to look out for us."

Altaïr could understand now, why Allen showed such fondness for the man. If he was not wrong, he could see that to Allen, this Komui was like a brother too. And Allen told him that Komui was not much older than him, no, that he was maybe even a bit younger when he took the position of, for all intents and purposes, a leader.

It was reassuring, if the assassin was honest, and then he realized that Komui had been motivated that his love for his sister. Then, if Altaïr truly wanted the best for his Brothers, if it was a form of love, not just of duty, would it give him the strength to bring the Order to greatness?

There was a little smile at the corner of Allen's mouth, and Altaïr narrowed his eyes, hit by a thought all of the sudden. When the white haired looked away, tried to appear innocent, he only confirmed his suspicion.

"Have you been distracting me from my work?" And have you been looking to cheer me up?

Allen shrugged, sheepish but not apologetic at all. "Someone has to; it's good that you're serious about it, but it will mean nothing if you overdo it. Besides, you weren't focusing anymore when I arrived. You looked like you had a headache just waiting to hit, and too many thoughts."

Altaïr crossed his arms, watching Allen just long enough to make him squirm again. "You do realize I'm the Mentor here, and you are scolding me?"

Allen's eyes widened, and took an innocent edge, all puppy like. "Well, I can look out for the Mentor, right?" His voice had lowered through the words, almost a small, hesitant wisher by the end, and Altaïr swore he could see imaginary ears lower.

Ugh, he is the true menace, Altaïr thought, as he stood up from his chair, sighing. "Fine; stop giving me that look."

Allen's expression switched into a blinding smile, eyes sparkling. "It's almost dinner time, we could get Malik and eat outside. You two have been inside for hours."

Altaïr allowed a small smirk to form. "Was it dinner you were aiming for all this time?"

Allen just grinned innocently. "Well, food is always nice when you're taking a break."

Altaïr did not reply, only shook his head, but he allowed the intent, enjoying a little the happy smile of Allen as they walked out the room to find Malik.

To be continued...