The Story of a Rafiq
Chapter 21
A life of doing nothing but following orders, killing men and learning to defend his own existence only to end up giving leave to the men who come for jobs. He always thought of the job as a Rafiq to be for old men, not young men who still had their whole lives ahead of them.
"I suppose that is all I can do..."
"Not entirely," The two looked up at the doorway, Al Mualim standing, his hands behind his back as he walked into the room fully. "You have skill of drawing Maps. If you agree I will have you in charge of copying out maps and making new ones of Jerusalem for other assassins and Rafiqs to use. Also, being a Rafiq isn't just sitting around and giving orders. It takes knowledge and a lot of snooping and surveillance to find out where certain targets are more likely to be. It also takes good vocal skills to make friends and allies in the city. It's much more then what most assassins think."
Malik thought for a moment, then slowly nodded. It wouldn't be that big of a deal. More or less it could be a bit more relaxing. He would be in control, he would make the rules for his bureau, he could tell the assassins yes or no for if they could go in for the kill or not. He nodded his head and looked back up at the master, "Alright."
"Excellent news," the older man smiled wide, and pulled out a set of robes and a cloak that he had seen most older assassins wear, "Since you will not be needing the in field robes, you can replace them with these as your every day clothes," he stated, holding them out to Malik, who took them and looked at them curiously. "I'll give you a week to get ready, there are plenty of doctors in Jerusalem that can look after your arm to make sure that it heals correctly."
As the master left, he looked back at Majid, who grimly smiled. "I always thought I'd be the one in those robes sooner or later, not you," he stated, leaning back against the wall.
Malik lightly smiled, and stood, changing into the robes and looking down at himself, then to the flap where his other arm should have been. Majid stood and walked over to him, pulling out a thin rope from his robe and tying it so the flap wasn't dangling.
"Oddly enough they suit you," the older man stated, smiling at the younger who looked himself over as best as he could.
"They feel a bit lighter then normal assassin robes," he marveled, pausing and looking to the door as he heard it open. His eyes narrowed, stepping back as Altair walked in, avoiding eye contact with both of them. He started to pack his things away in a sack, hesitating as he made his way back to the door, and glancing back at them, his hand against the side of the door. He seemed to want to say something... But his mouth never opened.
Malik let out a breath he had been holding once the other left the room and closed the door behind him. He had been fine, up until he saw the other. It was reality, Kadar and Tamir were gone; and even though he was told it wasn't his fault, he couldn't help but feel responsible. His knees buckled, as he quickly fell, Majid rushing to his side as he felt tears rush to his eyes. It was several minutes before Malik could control his sobs and mutter a soft "I'm sorry" to his uncle, who only shook his head and held him close.
"It's good," Majid started once Malik was no longer crying, simply breathing deeply, focusing on the sound of the air entering and exiting his mouth, "That you will be going to Jerusalem. It will give you a new start, and new challenges."
All Malik could do was nod in response. He felt pathetic, but what really could he do? He lost a father figure, a brother, a lover, and his arm all in the same day. He felt his uncle hoist him up and lead him out of the room. He could feel the eyes of others on him glancing at him with pity, but he ignored it, following Majid's lead down to the courtyard to get something to eat. He wasn't particularity hungry, but managed to scarf down a little bit of food before giving up and retreating back to his room.
The room was his hideaway for two weeks before Al Mualim finally sent him on his way to Jerusalem. The trip was agonizing since he was alone, but he didn't let his thoughts get to him as he made sure to keep his mind completely blank the whole ride there; else he would break down and start to cry again. Never in his life had he wanted to just give up before. When his mother was murdered he fought to survive for the sake of Kadar, when he was forced to study endless material that he didn't find the least bit interesting he kept going to prove himself. But this... It really got to him.
Once he arrived in Jerusalem he wandered the streets till he came across the market. He bought a few fruits, then headed to the bureau, shoving the delicious morsels in his bag before struggling up the ladder that lead to the bureau entrance. "What a pain," he murmured to himself, sitting down once he reached the top, glaring down at the street below. Never in his dreams would he ever think of climbing a ladder as a chore.
He got back up once he gathered the nerve to, and walked over to the gate, pulling the key Al Mualim had given him out of his pocket and unlocking the gate, slipping inside, then re-locking it. The master had told him to do this for a week, giving him time to get situated in his new home and to look around the streets and begin to do his job.
What Malik was going to do with a whole bureau was beyond him. He was use to having half of a room to himself, not an entire building. He walked inside and grinned as he saw the many scrolls behind his desk. Slipping behind it he began to glance through them, almost feeling giddy knowing he'd be able to read all of these as he wanted and whenever he wanted.
It would be a nice distraction at any rate...
Malik glanced up as he heard the door to his room open. The Master Assassin next to him shot up immediately, and looked at the man who entered. "It's twin boys*, Master," the man stated, making Altair's eyes widen.
"Can I see them?" The man nodded at Altair's request, turning to lead him out. The older assassin glanced over to Malik with pleading eyes, making the Rafiq sigh and nod his head, closing his book and setting his ink and quill off to the side.
"Tazim, time to wake up," he stated, lightly shaking the boy, who groaned and rubbed his eyes. "It's time to go greet Altair's children and welcome them into the world."
At this statement the young boy's eyes widened with a unknown excitement, jumping up and clinging around Malik's neck so he could still stand, and then hold him as he walked. He wasn't about to admit it out loud just yet, but he was glad that Tazim was here. The boy brought a smile to his lips and since he was his brother's son, it gave him a little piece of Kadar.
The look on Altair's face amused Malik to no end. His eyes were widened slightly in a fear that he'd never seen the other wear before, his lips propped in a way that seemed like he wanted to smile but couldn't manage to do so. The Master Assassin simply looked terrified at the idea of being a parent now that his two children were born. As they entered the room where Maria and the two boys were being kept, the Rafiq felt a light tug on his robes, looking down to see Altair's fingers entwined in the fabric.
Maria was asleep on the bed off to the side, the two baby boys in the arms of two of the masked women in the room. They approached the new father, allowing him to take both of them, making the man suddenly glow with pride as they snoozed in his arms. "What will you name them?" Malik asked.
Altair looked thoughtful for a moment, then gestured to the boy on the left, "Darim," then to the right, "And Sef."
Malik shifted to the side, getting closer, Tazim's neck craned over to get a better look. His lips were parted as he stared down at the two baby boys as if waiting for them to do something interesting or perform some sort of trick.
"What do they do?"
Malik nearly laughed, but kept a straight face as Altair pouted his lips out, thinking of a way to answer the question. "Well, they are only babies. They cannot do much until they grow. You were like that at one point, you know?" the Rafiq answered.
Tazim's nose scrunched slightly as he buried his face in Malik's shoulder, "I was not," the boy protested, making the two men smile, "When will they get bigger?"
"Sooner or later. That's the amazing thing about life, it takes time to grow but once it has it is well worth the wait." Malik looked up at Altair once again and grinned, "I should probably take Tazim to his teacher."
The Master Assassin nodded his head watching as Malik turned to leave, "Wait, Malik." Malik turned back and looked to Altair who almost looked pained, "I love you."
The Rafiq blinked, gulping lightly as his eyes shifted slightly. Openly saying this in front of others, it was odd and unheard of. He looked around for a moment, and was surprised to see that no one was phased by the confession. Had Masyaf changed this much since he had last been here?
"You know I do too," Malik answered finally, smiling ever so slightly, then turning and heading out.
"Do I have to go train right now? I want to hear stories of your adventures with Master Altair," the boy in his arms complained, pouting as he looked up at his Uncle almost pleading with his best imitation of a puppy.
"You really are your father's son," Malik mused, setting the boy down in the courtyard, a group of Novice's Tazim's age sat a little ways away, "Go with your friends, and learn your material well. If you do I'll reward you with a story, alright?"
"Yes, Baba. I will," Tazim nodded, clenching his fists with enthusiasm and running off to join the others.
"Brother, can I speak to you a moment?"
Malik's eyes darted to the side, his eyes landing on Abbas who held his hands behind him in a pitiful manner, his head lowered ever so slightly.
"You may," Malik answered, turning to face him, keeping his arms at his sides, standing upright so he did not seem faltered or intimidated by the other.
"I simply had a question about Altair."
"Ask it."
"What does he plan to do now that Al Mualim is dead and gone? What is his plans?"
"Why do you not ask Altair about this yourself?"
"I dare not face him, brother."
"And what gives you the courage to face me and not him?"
Abbas looked down a moment, hesitant to answer, "With all due respect, you are not the one in control of the Apple. I've felt and seen what it can do, and do not wish to feel that pain again."
Malik was disgusted. He was afraid of Altair because of that horrible artifact that had his brother's blood on it as well as so many others. Of course, Malik hadn't seen exactly what it could do so he couldn't share anyone who had seen it's fear. But the fact that it rendered someone who was so cocky enough to take it and try to use it scared made him almost concerned for Altair for even having to be near it.
"I do not know the answers of which you seek. Altair has not spoken to me of his plans."
"Then why are you here?"
Malik nearly slapped him, his nostril's flaring in annoyance, "I'm here to be of help if I am needed. Nothing more or less. Now if you excuse me, I will be taking my leave."
Angry was a bit of an understatement of how the Rafiq was feeling. But the idiot did prove to ask a question that Malik had not thought of: Why was he here? Was he here simply for Altair's comfort? He made his way to the dorm tower and shook his head. 'No, Altair said that after Darim and Sef were born he would have to travel. I am here to watch over the brotherhood in his place,' Malik reminded himself, rubbing the side of his face.
Malik was barely turning thirty now, but he could honestly say he felt as if he was a man of his eighties. Not a comforting feeling at all. He flopped back on his cot and let out a sigh, his head laid against the cushion as he closed his eyes ridding his mind from any thought. He stayed like this for a good hour before he allowed himself to sit up, taking his book, ink and quill. He still had a lot to write, he couldn't just stop now...
It was two weeks before Malik had seen another Assassin grace him with their presence. Much to his relief, it was someone he didn't know, who was being sent to get rid of a man posing as a beggar who murdered when they least expected. It was a clever disguise when there were so many beggars around, and reminded Malik much of Isam Rasheef. He sent the Assassin to look for clues in the square, and was surprised to find that the man returned not even three hours later with plenty of information for the Rafiq to give the man a feather and the go ahead to take his life.
As much as Malik was surprised, the life of a Rafiq was something that suited him well. He had time to do what he wanted, while doing his job and scouring the city, learning it's every hiding spot and gathering place. He had yet to make any allies yet like Al Mualim had suggested, but didn't see why he immediately had to and settled for mapping out the city first.
He unrolled a piece of paper, pulled out a quill and a vial of ink, then uncorked it, listening to the sound of a thud and footsteps that followed. He ignored the presence of the other man, assuming it was the Assassin he had sent out an hour ago. He opened his mouth, ready to ask for the feather back, when another voice was heard making him freeze.
**"Safety and peace Malik."
He glared at the paper below him before glaring up at Altair, his heart wracking with hurt as he looked at his face, "Your presence here deprives me of both. What do you want?" he sneered, setting the quill down, eying the other.
"Al Mualim has asked-"
"Asked that you perform some menial task in a effort to redeem yourself," Malik interupted, sighed, then continued, "So be out with it."
"Tell me what you can about the one they call Talal."
Of course Malik had heard of the man in his two weeks of being here. Spend a moment here and listen to the crowd and anyone would know of him. But Malik wasn't about to just up and tell the other everything he knew, especially when he had that demanding tone. "It is your duty to locate and assassinate the man, Altair. Not mine."
"You'd do well to assist me. His death benefits the entire land."
Altair looked agitated, as Malik wanted. He smirked very lightly in realizing how much Malik had seemed to change from the happy person he was once, to the bitter, vengeful person he was today. "Do you deny his death benefits you as well?" he jeered.
"Such things do not concern me."
Such an arrogant bastard. Malik clenched his fist, "Your actions very much concern me!" He gestured to his arm, turning away so he didn't have to look at his face.
"Then don't help me. I'll find him myself!"
Altair turned to leave, making Malik sigh and lower his head in defeat. Even now his hatred wasn't enough for him to continue like this. He didn't want to admit it, but he still cared for him. His back turned away from him hurt as much as it did when he betrayed him. "Wait... Wait," he called out, making Altair stop and turn his head to glance back at him. "It won't do having you stumble about the city like a blind man. Better you know where to begin your search."
"I'm listening."
Malik watched as the other turned to face him once again. "I can think of three places," he pointed south, "South of here in the markets that line the border between the Muslim and Jewish Districts," he paused and pointed north, "To the north near the mosque of this district, and" he paused again to point to the east, "east, in front of St. Anne's Church, close to the Bab Ariha gate."
"Is that everything?"
"It's enough to get you started," Malik sneered, regretting telling him this information now. "And more then you deserve."
Nothing more was said. He watched as Altair left, and collapsed back against his chair once he heard he had gone. He wasn't ready to face him, not in the slightest. He let out another sigh and rubbed the back of his neck, closing his eyes as he breathed in and out deeply. At least he didn't break down into tears anymore...
Notes:
*I couldn't bring it in my heart to give Altair another reason to hurt Malik in order to have Sef, so I made the boys twins instead. Darim is still the older one though, that much is still true Dx
**At the beginning-ish of the game when you are given the choice of going to Acre of Jerusalem, which do you choose? I always go to Jerusalem just because I like to bug Malik :D; That's why Altair appears so suddenly, I figure if he went to Jerusalem before Acre he'd arrive around this time. That and I wanted Altair in here more D:
On another note...
I don't think anyone realizes how much I hate packing. I really... Really do. If you didn't read on my DA about how I have to pack up all my stuff lemme give you a little short version of what I'm having to do: I'm going to be going on a Disney on ice tour with one of my closest friends, well hopefully. I won't really know till about August. But, since I'll be gone for 9 months away from home, and my parents are about 85% sure they are going to be moving while I'm gone, I'll have to pack away the entirety of my life in boxes and sort through everything to toss out or to put in a box and keep.
Why did I tell you guys this? Basically to let you know the reason if I suddenly get slow on updates. The story isn't exactly close to being finished, more like half way. So I promise I will not abandon the story, but please bare with me if I get slow ;A;
Review Responses:
Dredonis: It wasn't much fun to write, I'll say that much. ;~;
RocKath Girl: Thank you very much for saying so! It means a lot. I'm sorry for killing Tamir ;~; It killed me a bit to do it, but it just didn't seem possible in my mind for everyone to just keep on living Dx
BADAZZtoldya: xD I ninja write when I have time to do so. Give me the time and I'll write to my hearts content~ Also I have to thank you. Your reviews never cease to make me smile every time.
Story Puppet: Thank you, and yes, It's about halfway-ish done.
Rindou Kiara: I aim to please x3 -spoils you with more chapters-
dippychick16: Oh gosh! I'm so sorry Dx If it makes you feel better I wrote most of that chapter in the middle of the mall when I was waiting on a friend. It was so hard not to cry x.x;
Thank you so much for the support, the reviews, the story faves and alerts! They mean so much to me and brighten up my day!