You know, it's times like these that make me both love Rauf for his sense of forethought, yet want to kill him for that very same forethought. My ride to Damascus, short as it was, was excruciating in the heat that had yet to dwindle into the creeping chill of the wet season preluding winter. For, you see, Rauf had taken the initiative to give me his old worn travel cloak, because while it wasn't currently cold nor wet, the nights in the desert were frigid and one could easily freeze to death if not careful.

Although, during the day, it was all I could do to not roast to death underneath the sun-baked black fabric. This was exactly why I wanted to turn around and rush back to Masyaf. I wanted to throttle that man for making me roast in this heat. But, then again, he would probably demand more answers out of me. As it was, I barely got out of the village without him ringing me dry of all I knew.

It was startling, being dragged up to my rooms and being plopped down on my bed, my 'brother' standing vigil with his arms crossed while staring me down sternly.

"I think we need to talk."He stated, his voice taking on a tone that I knew all too well. It was his 'I know you're hiding something big, so spill it right fucking now' voice. It never failed to make me cringe like a naughty child when he used it on me.

'About what, brother?'I signed, blinking up at him innocently. He sighed in frustration, pushing his hood back as he ran a hand through his hair.

"Cut the bullshite, Altaire. You know very well what about. What was that in the village? The voice that invaded my mind so suddenly? I know that was you!"The look in his eyes dared me to lie. I suppose the jig is up.

"Yes, that was me. And before you ask, no, I don't know why I have this new ability. It started when I first touched the treasure that Malik retrieved from Solomon's temple. As for why you heard it, I wanted to see if I could be heard by those who have not been exposed to the treasure. Apparently, this happens to be the case." Seeing that he wasn't likely to get anything else on the subject, Rauf dropped the matter. But I knew that wouldn't be the end of it.

"So thanks to that fantastic clusterfuck of a mission, you can speak for yourself. I don't know if that should be a good thing or not."He joked. I just stared at him, my face totally deadpanned.

"Oh, sure. It is a very good thing that my mission partner has lost his arm, my best friend is missing and likely dead, and I am back down to novice rank. Also a very good thing that I will likely be hanged should anyone discover that I can speak without moving my lips. Yes. A very fucking good thing."I snarked, crossing my arms, then blinked. Since when did I get so worked up over a bit of my brother's humor? Normally I have better control over my emotions than this. Am I ill?

Surprised as he was at my little outburst, Rauf put a thoughtful hand to his chin, "Hmm... I think I may have just the thing to help you with that dilemma. Get yourself ready to go and I will meet you at the gates in an hour."He ordered, and before I had a chance to protest, he was out the door.

An hour later, I was brushing out my horse's mane, waiting for Rauf. Since my subsequent demotion, I no longer had a choice among the horses, and was allotted one; a beautiful black stallion named Khan. And while I had only just been assigned to him, I could already see that he had personality. As I placed the brush back on the hook, Rauf rounded the corner into the stables, carrying a dark bundle of cloth.

"There you are! Ah, I feared you'd left already."He greeted, relieved. I snorted.

"If you'd have kept me waiting much longer, I might have. What is this you've brought?" I asked, gesturing to the bundle. He started, as if just remembering about it. Silly, scatterbrained Rauf.

"Oh, right! Of course! I noticed that, since your new cloak was so heavy, that you might do better with a thinner one, so you do not die of the heat. Mind you, it is a bit worn, since it is one of mine,"He explained, "I have also erm... 'liberated' an instructor's scarf from the seamstress."At his mischievous tone, my shoulders shook silently as I laughed.

"You thief! How much did you have to flirt to get away with that?" I asked, eyeing him. He stared back, completely unashamed.

"Whatever do you mean, dear sister of mine?"He quipped innocently. I rolled my eyes, shoving him playfully.

"You know just what I mean, you womanizer!" At my words, his pout reminded me of a sad puppy.

"Ay! You wound me with your harsh words!"He mock-groaned as he helped me with the scarf. It was strangely comfortable; made of an incredibly soft material. Once he backed away, I swung the cloak around my shoulders, fastening it and pulling up the hood. I scowled when he whistled.

"Now that's a fearsome assassin!"He snickered, "Even if you're short."I felt the vein in my forehead pulse as I climbed up into my horse's saddle, resisting using Khan as a springboard to kick Rauf in the head.

"Oh, shut up!"

Before long, the northern wall of Damascus loomed over me. Slowing my horse to a trot, I dismounted and led him to the stable to the right of the city gate, handing the young stable-boy three silvers to watch over him for the week. If anything, he looked surprised at the amount of coin given to him, but said nothing of it; merely doing as bid.

Several meters back, toward the merchant stalls that often loitered outside the city, there was a small commotion. Three city guards were pushing a lone scholar around, teasing and jeering childishly, calling him a heretic, among other things. For some reason, my annoyance levels spiked, and I started toward them. They paid me no mind as I stalked toward them, and only saw me as an active threat when I stabbed the first guard in the throat.

"Filthy brat! I'll have your head!"One of the remaining two shouted before he too, was caught by my blade. The third appeared to be smart, and backed away, his sword going back in it's sheathe. He raised his hands in surrender and I relaxed a bit. It appeared he'd only been standing guard as the others toyed with the scholar. He couldn't have been any older than I was. Feeling strangely merciful, I jerked my head toward the gates.

"Next time, don't let them push you into something like this. Now go on. Get out of here." I barked, and he nodded quickly before running off; presumably to another position to guard something. With that little spectacle over, I sighed tiredly, pinching the bridge of my nose as a headache began to throb behind my eyes. What is wrong with me? I never tire this quickly. A glance at the two corpses on the ground, and the coppery scent of blood made my stomach lurch uncomfortably, to the point I actually had to turn away and lean on the nearest tree to keep from falling to my knees and heaving my meager breakfast back up. In the end, it was futile, and the scent overpowered me, causing me to yank my scarf down and empty my stomach into the grass. I felt a hand start to rub soothing circles into my back as I coughed, trying to clear my throat of any remaining bile.

A handkerchief was dangled in front of my face and in my peripheral vision, I could see the scholar I'd rescued looking down at me with a concerned frown. I wiped my mouth, then turned to the scholar as I tugged my scarf back up. He gave me a sympathetic smile.

"Child, you should not fight if the sight of blood affects you so. Regardless, you have my thanks for getting me out of that rather unpleasant situation. I assume that you will require entrance into the city?"He asked, his smile never faltering as he placed a hand on my shoulder. I nodded.

"Yes. I would be most appreciative." At my response, the scholar's smile widened.

"Alright, then. Let us join my brothers, then I'll bring you to Jafar."He said, and it took quite some physical effort to keep my jaw off the ground. As it was, my eyes widened considerably.

"Oh, do not look so surprised, child! We scholars are friends of the assassins! And Jafar is a delightful young man! A decent dice player too! I've lost my fair share of games to him. Why, just the other day-"The scholar went on and on, regaling me with details about the young Rafiq. Apparently, the man was not much older than Malik; the age he gave being twenty-nine. He was kind enough, according to the scholar, but had a slightly sarcastic manner about him. He was a potter, that much I know; his work is absolutely beautiful.

Once inside the city walls, the scholar guided me into the poor district, the bureau building coming into view after a few minutes of walking. Leading me around the side of the building, the white clad knowledge-seeker knocked on the secret door -that was annoying as hell to find- and waited. After a brief moment, the door creaked open and standing just visible in the shadows was Jafar.

"Salaam Aleikum, Rafiq."The scholar smiled and Jafar relaxed.

"Aleikum Al-Salaam, Haitham. How is your family?"He asked. The newly named Haitham smiled.

"They are well. My daughter is expecting her first-born any day. I feel so old!"He chuckled, "Anyway, I have brought you one of your friends. Do take good care of her? She was ill earlier and I fear for her health."

"Of course. Do give Nadia my regards."He said without looking away from me. The scholar nodded and waved before taking his leave. Jafar placed a hand on my shoulder and guided me into the bureau and sat me down among the pillows in the enclosed garden. I stared up at him curiously and blinked when he put his hands on his hips and gave me a look.

"Two years, Altaire. Two years, and I hear nothing! Not one letter or visit saying whether you are alive, dead, missing, or taking a vacation in bloody Venice; then I receive a bird stating you are to be tested for loyalty? And these rumors! You have some explaining to do!"He exclaimed, his voice getting more agitated as he spoke. I just continued to stare, unsure whether to trust him or not. On one hand, he did save me from being raped. On another, I've not had a chance to really get to know him, and even if others speak highly of him, I'd like to be my own judge of character.

When I didn't answer him, Jafar rubbed the back of his head and sighed, "Right. I forgot. You don't speak. I suppose I'll find out in time."Then he smiled, "Make yourself comfortable and I'll have a meal ready for you shortly."

I blinked in surprise at his retreating back, my decision having been made. He didn't press me for information. Perhaps...

I sighed, removing my cloak and lowering my hood.

This is going to take a while...

"So you're saying, that when you touched that... thing, it blessed you with this... odd form of speech?"Jafar's eyes were impossibly wide with wonder, and bouncing a bit as if he were a child given honey-cake at the prospect of a new mystery.

"Not my exact words, but yes. That's it in a nutshell."I said, a crooked grin sliding onto my face. Jafar hid his own grin with his tea cup.

"It has been quite hectic this past month and a half. Every time a brother, a team, or informant comes in, the rumors keep coming. If you'd have heard some of the things pouring out of their mouths, you'd have likely gutted them where they stood."And there, precisely, is the sarcastic manner that the scholar had mentioned. The headache from earlier that had settled into a dull throb was starting to reappear as he mentioned the fools I've to call brothers in arms. They knew little of which they spoke, and much of it had no place being spoken of in the first place.

"Rafiq," I sighed tiredly, pinching the bridge of my nose,"I do not care what the others think of me."When I made use of his title, his eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. I could tell he wanted to say something, but he refrained and smiled that silly little grin that Kadar used to give me when he was afraid I was going to chew him out when we were children.[Like this: ^v^]

"Hmm... As you wish, Altaire."He said simply, "If you have finished your meal, I would suggest you get some sleep. It is getting late and you've some information to hunt for tomorrow." Jafar stood and I nodded, handing the platter up to him. He left the garden and I made myself comfortable among the pillows.

When I woke again, I had a blanket tossed over me. A look at the open latch door told me it was late into the morning, nearing noon. Sitting up quickly, it seemed, was be a bad idea, as when I did so, a spark of dizziness shot through my head and almost sent me sprawling. Almost being the operative term. Hunching forward I placed a hand over my eyes, waiting for the dizzy-spell to avert. After a moment, my head stopped spinning and I stood slowly. Taking it as a good thing that I didn't fall on my face, I entered the bureau proper and sat across from Jafar at the counter. He looked up from his pot and smiled.

"Ah, I was wondering when you would rouse. I assume you are feeling better?"He asked good-naturedly. I nodded.

"Much, thank you."I returned, leaning my elbows on the counter some. Jafar stood and disappeared behind a curtain for a moment before returning with a tray in hand. He placed it between us as he sat down and placed a steaming bowl of porridge and a cup of hot tea in front of me.

"Thank you."I said simply, and waited for him to sit before digging into my meal. I could sense Jafar's gaze lingering on me as I ate. I would glance up when he thought I wasn't looking and he'd look away guiltily when I caught him staring.

"I am ah... sorry for your troubles."He started awkwardly, clearing his throat. I raised an eyebrow.

"Think nothing of it."I said as I took another bite.

"Yes, you've never been one to follow orders to the letter. Not one for the creed either, I suppose?"His tone took a condescending lilt to it and I swallowed wrong. I coughed and tossed a withering glare in his direction as I took a drink.

"What have you heard?" I asked, holding the glare as I kept eating. Jafar just raised his hands in a placating manner.

"Hey, is it my fault that those that come and go share rumors?"He reasoned and I rolled my eyes.

"You do not necessarily have to listen to them, you know."

"Touche."

Grumbling, I pushed my empty bowl back towards the tray and knocked back the last of my tea. Jafar was pushing his porridge around his bowl when he noticed me stand. He took the empty teacup onto the tray and motioned me to wait a moment. When he came back, he had my satchel with him. My eyes widened at the sight of it.

"I assume this is yours?" Jafar asked and I nodded quickly.

"H-how?"

"An informant of mine brought it to me from the stables not an hour ago. It seems some scatterbrained assassin forgot to bring their supplies with them last night."He gave me a knowing look and I dodged his gaze.

"My apologies." I muttered, and Jafar chuckled.

"Just see to it that this does not become a habit."He cautioned, placing my satchel on the counter and pushing it toward me. Picking it up carefully, I swung it over my head and shoulder to rest comfortably against my hip. I bowed my head and started for the door.

"Altaire."

I stopped and glanced over my shoulder at Jafar curiously.

"You remember the procedure to seeking information alone, yes?"He asked.

"Of course. You need not explain." In my response, I barely kept my eye from twitching. I may be a novice in rank, but I know what the hell I'm doing.

"Excellent! Then allow me to start you on your way. Tamir makes his living as a black market merchant. So the Souk district should be your destination. I would suggest you seek out the following places: a small souk northeast of here, the madrasah to our east, and in the gardens north of this Bureau. Focus on these places and he should become well known to you."After giving these directions, Jafar gave me a rather cockeyed grin. I refrained from commenting on it and nodded instead.

"My thanks for the guidance. I'll not trouble you further." As I resumed walking away, I heard him muttering.

"Believe me. It is no trouble."

One thing I can safely say about Jafar is that he picks his informants well. Even though I hadn't been on a solo mission since my novice days, his directions make my task so much easier. It's not so much that I didn't know what I was doing. I'd gathered plenty of information when I'd been paired with Rauf, and then Malik. I am just unused to having to do everything myself. No backup, and little help from other assassins. Hell, usually, I was the backup. I'm more comfortable with long range combat; for every kill made by an arrow or a throwing knife, I wouldn't have to see the face of the victim. I may be an assassin, but no matter how much my father and the master tried to carve out my emotions, I am not unaffected by the blood that stains my hands. No matter how much I bury my emotions and hide my heart behind a wall of arrogance, the nightmares don't go away.

Ah, but I digress.

I wandered the streets some before coming across the souk Jafar had mentioned. Small as it was, it was fairly lively; with high, arched roofs with tiny windows to allow the mid-morning sunlight to sporadically dance across the heads of the souk's shoppers; candles dripping little bits of wax on unsuspecting heads. I tuned out all of the chatter unimportant to my mission, and eventually, something stood out. The mentioning of the black merchant's name. There were many merchants grouped together, talking and looking annoyed in general. I had to slow down in order to head off the rumor that was sure to start.

"He's called another meeting,"said a portly merchant. Clearly he was delivering unwelcome news as the expressions of the other merchants darkened severely."Tomorrow afternoon."

"And what is it that he wants?"The second man demanded, "Another warning? Another execution?"

"He has work for us."The portly merchant said simply and the second merchant, the one in blue, shook his head in disgust.

"Which means we won't be paid."his tone took a bitter turn, "And we'll work even longer hours to meet his lofty demands!"

"He's abandoned the ways of the merchant guild. Does as he pleases now."The third, red clad merchant complained, running a hand over his thick beard."He treats us like servants!"

"The guard does nothing to stop him."the first, portly merchant agreed.

"Enough."The blue clad merchant interrupted the beginnings of an argument between the other two. "We must go. If we're late, he'll be angry and we'll suffer for it. It's all we can do to keep to his schedule. We don't need him offing someone just to make another point."

"Perhaps one day, someone will have the courage to stand up to him."The third merchant sighed, throwing his hands up in defeat.

"Perhaps." The second one agreed, "But until that day, we should do as we're told. I for one, wish to enjoy life for a while yet."

I kept my eyes lowered, waiting until the little group dispersed before leaving the bench I'd perched myself upon. Having heard the men's complaints, it was all the more reason to be rid of the death-dealer. If he was a butcher of his own people, then those that worked under him would praise his death.

But it makes little sense. Why is this man; this death-dealer, able to do as he pleases?To be able to go against the guild? Guilds are supposed to be sacred communities. It is the order of things among merchants, blacksmiths and other traders; how they're able to set their price ranges. The way they make money. Those that went against the guild were ultimately blacklisted and denied any form of help.

They'd be completely on their own.

…?

Is that what I am now?

On my own, with no support other than what others choose to give me? Is my value so little that another could decide to let me die on a whim..?

Surely not!

I refuse to even consider such a thing!

I completed another round through the souk before stopping for a light meal. For one reason or another, I've been hungrier than usual, and I don't usually eat much. Walking as I ate, I thought on what I'd learned so far.

If there was to be a meeting tomorrow, then it was safe to assume that all of the souk's merchants of that particular guild would be there. Tamir would be there, loitering about the stalls, urging those around him to produce more; to sell more. With his attention occupied with business and traders filling the souk, it would be easy to slip in among the crowd and remove him from the equation.

Nodding to myself, I took yet another round through the souk, listening to all around me before I left the area for the gardens Jafar had mentioned earlier. Rather than focusing on information solely about Tamir, I focused on gossip about the souk itself. Mothers and fathers were chasing after naughty children, cautioning them to stay away from stalls. A merchant bemoaned the guards' attachment to Tamir. The information was by no means important, but I listened anyway; how the man wanted more security by his stall near the northeastern exit of the souk, and how he'd drafted a letter to the merchant king, explaining his dilemma. Some other merchants were complaining of the noise in the rafters above their stalls, arguing whether it was rats or children as the source. A thief bragged to a friend of how he evaded guards thanks to some of his other friends slowing them down. And two little boys speaking in hushed tones about a hole in the wall where they snuck in to steal food every night. I couldn't help the pang that shot through my heart at that thought. Children shouldn't be forced to steal to live. They should be in a warm, safe environment with plenty of food, clean water and love. Alas, that is but a dream in this imperfect world.

With a sad shake of my head, I rounded a corner and left the souk, leaving the depressing thought behind me. I kept my ears open as I made my way north, listening again for any mention of Tamir. I found it slightly annoying that I hadn't seen any informants about. Were there none that could offer me any useful information? Or were they all purposefully avoiding me? Did they find it amusing, to watch me circle about like a nose-blind cat? Well, let them laugh! What do I give a damn what they think of me, so long as my mission is complete?

I had to pause as I passed through a narrow alley. Did I just hear Tamir's name?

Creeping out into the wider street, I took a seat on a bench between two scholars and listened as a town crier gave a rather long-winded speech.

"He was said to have driven a caravan back in those days. Though business had been poor, none wanting what he had to offer; fruits and vegetables from nearby farms. And so, he left Damascus, riding north towards Jerusalem; but with the long journey, his goods would surely spoil. Then soon after, he crossed paths with the Saracen army, the men half starved and their morale low. So Tamir gave the men his food.. Some say, that if not for Tamir, Salah-ad-Din's men would have surely turned on him. It could be we won the battle because of that man. And when all was calmed again, Salah-ad-Din repaid Tamir a thousand times over."

Never more was I glad that I had a scarf over my face. The sneer that passed over it would have surely gotten me a beating by any passing guard. The fact that my target has men spouting propaganda that would make his image lighter in the eyes of the people would make my job all the harder.

I sat there patiently, watching as the crier praised Tamir's exploits; how generous he was, how his weapon quality was second to none and how the Saracens would surely win the war with said weapons on their side. Pretty words to bring the people's hopes up. What would they do if their sultan lost the war? What then? Would they weep? Or would another rise up and take his place? Would there even be an opportunity for one to take his place, or would the crusader armies force us into submission?

So many variables to consider...

Finally, near sunset, the crier's voice began to give out, and the crowds began to thin. He smiled thinly as he stepped away from his shaded stand and moved into the thinning crowd. Probably returning home, or off to a tavern for an evening drink. I followed him, careful to keep a safe distance. Even now, so many miles away from Masyaf, I can hear the master's voice clear in my mind, his lessons ringing true.

"Keep a distance between yourself and your target. Never be seen by a backwards glance."

It was rather terrifying, honestly. To be after my quarry with little means of support sent a thrill down my spine that I've not felt since I was a child.

Turning a corner after him, I noticed he'd stopped. It seemed the crier had crashed into a woman who'd been balancing a jar of water on her head and now she was demanding compensation for her broken pottery. I felt indignant disgust rise up in my chest when he struck her, sending her sprawling into the dirt. He sneered, then walked on, kicking bits of broken pot as he went. I followed when he turned off the street, making a mental note of the area I was passing, as to return when I was done with this man.

I was pleased when he turned into a dark, narrow side alley, the walls pressing in just enough for a plan to form in my head. I drew up behind the crier silently, then unsheathed my short-blade and wrist blade simultaneously. I held the short-blade to his crotch, my hidden blade to his throat. He froze, trembling.

"You seem to know quite a bit about Tamir," I hissed into his mind, "Tell me what he plans."

"I know only the stories I tell,"He shuddered, "Nothing more." I pressed both blades a bit harder, my hidden blade digging into the delicate flesh of his throat ever so slightly.

"A pity, then. There is no need to let you live if you've nothing to offer in exchange for your life."

"Wait,"The crier's voice trembled, "There is one thing."At the offer of information, I lightened my hold just a bit.

"Continue."

"He is preoccupied as of late. He oversees the production of many weapons."

"And? They're presumably meant for Salah-ad-din. This does not help me; which does not help you." I tightened my grip slowly…

"No, listen!"I felt the crier squirm in my grip desperately. "Not Salah-ad-din. They're for another. The crests these arms bear. They are different. Unfamiliar. Tamir supports another, or so it would seem, but I do not know who."I nodded, sheathing my hidden blade, but not releasing my arm from his neck.

"Is that all?" I asked.

"Yes. That is all I know."He grunted.

"Then I leave you in peace." I told him before removing my arm and short-blade from his person; only to shove him forward into the alley wall before striking him in the back of the head with the hilt of my blade. He fell like a sack of potatoes.

I should probably kill him, however I do not feel like being sick today; the scent of blood would more than likely turn my stomach as it did yesterday.

So I left the crier, making my way back to the bureau. I had a marker to retrieve.

"Ah, Altaire! Welcome!"Jafar greeted warmly. I regarded him tiredly for a moment.

"I've gathered the information. The marker?"I asked, leaning on the counter between us just a bit.

"First things first, Altaire. Tell me what you know."

And I did. I regaled him with what I had discovered throughout the day, thoughts of the merchants whispering amongst themselves, the fear written plainly on their faces. Jafar nodded as he listened, one hand stroking his goatee in thought.

"And have you devised a strategy to rid us of this blight?"He asked. I nodded. A meeting was being held tomorrowat high noon at the Souk Al-Sillaah; an important sale to be discussed. Possibly the largest Tamir has ever made. While he is distracted with his work, I will strike swift and true. I told Jafar as much and he nodded in agreement.

"Your plan seems solid enough. I give you leave to go."He acknowledged, reaching underneath the counter and withdrawing a delicate white feather. He handed it to me, his expression turning solemn.

"Let Al-Mualim's will be done. You may rest here until morning."

"Thank you." I smiled, stowing the feather in my robe before turning and going to the pile of pillows and rugs in the enclosed garden. I flopped down tiredly, sleep taking me soon after.

Shortly after sunrise, I left the bureau for Souk Al-Silaah. Buying a sweet roll from a stall, I took a perch on a rooftop, resting, perhaps dozing a bit here and there, in the shade until noon. After a few minutes of scanning the souk, I caught sight of Tamir. He was arguing with an elder man over something. I couldn't hear what it was about, nor did I particularly care. I just wanted to get this over with. Tamir was a rather striking figure in his pristine turban, crimson tunic and dark leggings. He was glaring daggers at the old man in front of him, teeth bared behind a dark mustache. I climbed down a nearby ladder and wove through the crowd; reaching the front in time to see Tamir stab the old man to death.

"Let this be a lesson to the rest of you."Tamir addressed the now silent crowd as a pair of guards removed the bloodied corpse of the old man, "Think twice before you tell me something cannot be done. Now get back to work."

Continuing to mingle with the crowd, I followed after Tamir, waiting for an opening, which came in the form of his bodyguards terrorizing some poor stall owner for gifts for their wives. I stepped forward and sank my hidden blade into his neck. Tamir released a strangled sound, but did not scream. He writhed for a second before going limp. A stall owner stared wide eyed before turning his back on the scene. I lowered Tamir to the ground, out of sight.

"Be at peace."I said gently as Tamir's eyes fluttered open.

"Ah, how embarrassing."He said, a sneer working its way over his lips, even as blood pooled at their corners, "To die at the hands of a woman. How disgraceful. You will pay for this, Assassin. You and all of your wretched kind."

"It seems you're the one who pays now, Templar. You'll not profit from suffering any longer."

Tamir gave a rasping, shallow laugh. "You think me some petty death dealer, suckling at the breast of war? A strange target, no? Why me, when so many other men do as such?"

"You believe yourself different?"I asked.

"I do; for I serve a far nobler cause than mere profit. Just as my brothers."

"Brothers?"

Again, Tamir chuckled. "Ah, but he thinks I act alone. I am but a piece in this grand scheme. You'll come to know the others soon enough. They won't take kindly to what you've done."

"Good. I look forward to ending their lives as well."

"Such pride. It will destroy you, child."And he passed.

"Sometimes, people have to die for things to change." I whispered to the departed soul, closing his eyes. Reaching into my robe, I took the delicate white feather and stained it in the dead man's blood. I was moving away from the body when a cry rang out behind me. I had been seen! I bolted, the pounding of booted feet behind me almost drowned out by the rumbling of thunder overhead. Why do I suddenly have a bad feeling?

No time to wonder. I have to lose these pests.

A/N: I apologize for the long wait! I have been password locked out of this chapter for the longest time and couldn't remember the password for the life of me! I'll have the next part out as soon as I can. In the mean time, if you want something to read, I have been rewriting 'A Naked Legacy' if you wanna check that out.

Safety and Peace, my lovelies!

Novice out!