Disclaimer: I don't own Assassin's Creed, the only thing I take credit for is my OC's.

Author's Note: Thanks for the fav's, alerts, and reviews. I love them.

Edited: 2/1/2018

Taming a Huntress

Chapter XXV

Cracking Shield

Savra woke, her head jerking up quickly from her rucksack she had been using for a pillow. She glanced around and saw the bareness of the room she'd been using for shelter. Her eyes moved down to the rug below her and she sighed. She dreamed of her Father. Of when he taught her to use a dagger. Here, in Jerusalem. It was hard being here in the city. So many memories.

She let out a shaky breath as pressed her forehead back down onto her bag, swallowing hard again, and wincing at the knot in her throat.

She could still hear him; her father, so clear in her head. His commands, his encouragement. His voice so very familiar it hurt to hear. Because it reminded her that she didn't really hear it, only in her memory. She couldn't hear it again, because he was dead, and dead people don't have voices anymore.

And it was enough to let out a strangled whimper into her rucksack. She wanted to go home, her home. But she couldn't, because he was dead, the vineyard was dead, everyone there was dead. Except Haydar, and except her, but however long that would last, she didn't know.

She steadied her breathing and sat up, drawing her knees to her chest, and stared at the dark fireplace. It held no fire this morning; she didn't bother to keep it going before she fell asleep the night before. She was too upset, there was too much on her mind. And he wasn't there, he had kept the fire going. But he left, because he couldn't deal with her anymore. So she didn't bother to keep the fire going. She didn't care.

She half expected him to show up in the middle of the night, and every time her eyes had drifted shut, they snapped open at a sound; a creak in the framing, the wind brushing against the window, anything. But every time she'd find herself alone, in the dark room. He wasn't there. He wasn't coming back, and when she realized it, only then did she fall asleep, ignoring the tightness in her chest, and just… slept.

He was right about her; she was selfish. She was, she knew it. But he didn't understand. He couldn't understand, he couldn't. He was detached from the world around him, solely focused on his work, and little things like family bonds didn't mean the same to each other. So he didn't understand, and she kept telling herself that.

He could leave, she didn't need him anyway, and she kept telling herself that too… only it wasn't necessarily needing him there, so much as wanting him near. But it was alright, she knew how to handle herself before him, she could handle herself perfectly fine after him.

Or so she told herself…

Savra pulled her dagger free from its sheath, trailing a nail over the dull side. She flopped back onto the rug and held the blade in front of her, the dim morning light hitting the metal gently. It was her father's, she had found it in one of the chests in his room at Masyaf. It was close enough to her old one, and well… it was her father's, so it was good enough for her.

She tucked the blade back into its sheath. The new sheath. The one he had just given her the night before. She pushed it under her rucksack and out of sight while she grabbed some bread wrapped up in cloth to eat something.

She nibbled the dry bread as she stared at the charred logs in the unlit fireplace. It was very quiet this morning, no pattering rain, no thunder, no nothing. Except for the birds, she could hear those. Chirping outside happily. The sun was going to come out today. She could already see the sky lighting up quickly, making up for the dark days previous.

After her feeble meal she dusted her hands off on the rug and grabbed some clothing to change. When she moved to pull her boots back on her eyes caught the fur buckles clipped around the legs. Her blank expression dropped a bit as she stared at them. She let out a sigh through her nose and pulled the boots on.

Don't think about it she told herself as she got up and tied her cloak around her shoulders and her shawl around her hair. She needed air, and this dank little room wasn't providing it.

"Oh how I hated it!" Lamis exclaimed. "I do love my husband. But only in small doses. He talks and talks of his time served in the army to any who will listen, and I have heard the same stories for over twenty years. I am starting to think he has memory sickness. Too often lately he forgets things he has already said moments before. It's too bad my herbs aren't helpful for that. But I have been sneaking in chamomile and valerian when he gets too talkative. Puts him right to sleep."

Savra gave a small smile behind her shawl as she sat behind the table with Lamis. The woman was going on about her husband as she placed her herbs on the table. The Bazaar was filled with shop keepers moving about, eager to make up for the down business. "What if one day, he doesn't wake up? What if you give him too much?" she asked.

"Then I think it would be a blessing. He lives in constant pain. Some days, most days lately, he can hardly go a few steps without needing to sit. I would miss him, but I think he would be better off than continuing on like this," Lamis replied, but shook her head with a smile. "I had not realized how much I need this time out here in the market. Oh it is good to be out again." Lamis sat back before glancing at Savra. "What about you? Did you fare the storm alright?"

Savra nodded distractedly as she watched the bustling of the market.

"Are you alright, dear? You seem so distracted."

Savra glanced at her sidelong. "Just thinking," she said quietly.

"Hmm. Anything in particular?"

"No… yes but… it's nothing," Savra replied.

Lamis eyed her for a moment before giving a small nod. "Sure then, if you don't wish to I won't press. None of my business anyway. But if you—oh look here comes Malik." She smiled as she watched the Dai approach.

Savra followed her gaze and saw Malik walk up with two young men trailing behind him looking bored. She caught Malik's eye and saw his widen. He turned toward the other two and mumbled something to them, causing them to go walk around the Bazaar to entertain themselves.

"Malik, how are you?" Lamis asked with a smile.

"I am well, I hope the same is for you?" he replied as his eyes continuously sought Savra's.

"Oh yes, I am. Now, did you come for the usual?"

Malik nodded and Lamis went for some small boxes and began rummaging through them, mumbling to herself distractedly. Malik leaned over the table closer to Savra and spoke quietly.

"What are you doing out here? Where is Altair?" He glanced up and onto the roof buildings, searching for him.

"He's gone," she said softly.

Malik's eyes snapped to hers. "What do you mean gone? Gone where?"

Savra shrugged. "I don't know where he went."

Malik glanced at the preoccupied Lamis before speaking again. "When did he leave?"

Savra rested her elbow on the table and placed her cheek on her knuckles. "Last night."

Malik's brows furrowed. "And he still has not returned?"

Savra's eyes followed the two novices walking around the fountain in the center of the market. "He's not coming back."

She saw him still and she felt his gaze on her as he searched her face for answers, but she kept her sight from him. "He left without you?"

"Yes."

"But… you were supposed to go—"

"North? I know, I'm not going."

Malik narrowed his eyes as he frowned. "You told him no." It wasn't a question.

"Yes."

"And he left."

"Yes."

"And you are still here."

"Obviously."

Lamis made a sound of triumph. "There they are!" She brought over a few small pouches and placed them in front of Malik. He nodded his thanks and the two had a short conversation over things Savra didn't bother to overhear. When Lamis began chatting with another who had come over, Malik turned his attention back to Savra.

But Savra was watching the two novices as they sat at the fountain, glancing every now and then at Malik. One dipped his hand into the water and flicked his fingers at the other's face, causing them to go into short seated wrestle.

"There not very bright are they?" she asked as she watched.

Malik looked over his shoulder and gave a small scowl.

"I'm sitting right here. And they don't even notice."

"No, they are not. But they weren't sent to look for you."

Savra glanced at him. "I thought you said—"

"I know, at first I thought that too. But I'm beginning to suspect Al Mualim only sent them as a distraction for me. He probably assumes I am aiding Altair in hiding you. He wants me distracted with them, so you are left unattended, and easier to find for the one who was truly sent for you. One who's much more skilled than they."

Savra gave an amused huff. "Poor you."

Malik shook his head gravely. "No Savra… poor you." Her jaw tightened as she lifted her eyes to his. "You should have left as Altair had said."

"No, I should be right where I want to be, which is here."

"You endanger—"

"You see that man over there behind the stall?" She jerked her chin to gesture behind him. Malik turned and nodded. "He sees my mother often, she comes here, you saw once. He's been letting me know when she visits him. I'm exactly where I want to be."

The Dai narrowed his eyes at her but didn't say anything about it. He glanced at the two making their way over now and spoke quietly. "You are not invincible, and I'm afraid you will learn that the hard way."

Savra looked away. "I don't think I am."

"Good, then don't be surprised when things don't go your way. He risked a lot to help you, so you know."

Savra flinched slightly as she turned her gaze to the fountain.

"The least you could do is not let it be for nothing."

Savra didn't reply. She jumped a little when she felt him grab her hand, and her eyes snapped to his. "You know I can't be much help to you anymore. You are truly on your own now. Safety and peace, Savra."

She stared at their hands as he squeezed it before letting go. She heard him say goodbye to the healer as he turned and left, taking the two novices with him.

Lamis questioned her about Malik for a few moments, but when she saw Savra was going to remain silent, her questions ceased. Savra's grey eyes remained on the table, staring at her hand.

After some time she got up and walked away from the herbal stall. She made her way through the people in the Bazaar, glancing at the jeweler stall to see the vendor speaking to a woman, but it was not Sasha, so Savra kept walking.

A shadow formed on the ground, elongated and familiar, and she froze in her step. Her eyes snapped to the roof of the building she was near, and she saw a flash of white, but that was it, nothing was there.

She shook her head and made for the alleyway, climbing the crates and pulling herself up onto the flat roof. Her eyes darted around the building tops, but there was nothing, no one.

Don't think about it.

She crossed the buildings and lowered herself into the window.

She wasn't going to think about it.

The next morning when she woke, she laid there in silence for the longest time, just gazing at the cracked ceiling. When she bored of that she moved about the room, cleaning up the items tossed around the floor and folding the clothing that had been thrown from her rucksack to dry.

When she finished with that she sat in the center of the rug with her bow resting across her lap, her fingers traced along the metal edges and moved to the string, plucking it.

It gave a dull thrum, too dull and too low for her likings, so she busied herself with tightening the string. Once she fixed it the way she liked it, her eyes sought the arm sleeve folded near her rucksack. She bit her lip distractedly before giving a huff and reaching to pull it on. As she finished tying the last string she turned her arm over as she inspected it, giving a small smile of approval. She bent it at the elbow over and over to wear it in, when a sound caught her attention.

She tilted her head as she heard it again. It was a thump, from… below.

Her brows furrowed as she listened again. It was muted and inconsistent, but it was coming from directly below her.

Directly below her meaning someone was inside.

Her heart sank as she got to her feet. Her bow clattered to the ground noisily and she cringed as she scrambled to pick it up. There was no sound anymore.

She waited, minutes, and nothing came. She hurriedly moved to grab her dagger, her eyes pinned to the blocked door. The skeletal dresser was still sitting in front of it, and she didn't think anyone would be able to push it.

Still nothing came, so she relaxed a bit. Perhaps it was a rat.

When she sat down again, she eased her nerves with munching on some dried meat, her eyes gazing out of the window.

Footsteps.

She heard them, thump-thump- thump. Below her. Closer. The stairs. She knew it, because they were nearing the door. She was on her feet in an instant and her eyes were glued on the door.

She heard the handle turn, and with it felt her heart sink. She swallowed as she took a step back.

The door rattled and her breathing increased.

The dresser jolted as the door was shoved, echoing in the empty room loudly, but not loud enough to overpower her heartbeat hammering between her ears.

She took another hesitant step back as she watched the dresser slide forward a bit, dragging on the stone floor and screeching.

But it stopped, the door stopped.

And for a moment her shoulders sagged a little and she lifted her foot to take a curious step forward.

The room exploded with a boom when the door was kicked open with force, and the dresser toppled over onto the ground, shattering the weak wood.

Savra shrieked and tumbled back onto her rear, the dagger clattering out of her hand. Her silver eyes locked on the dark brown ones in the doorway.

He stood, dressed in dark grey robes much like Altair's with flashes of white here and there. His hood was down, revealing black hair, a rugged face, and a nasty scar running from his left ear to his chin. His dark eyes held hers, and she saw smugness leaking from them, and a bit of amusement.

Zaim, she recognized. She had seen him a few times at Masyaf. He was very quiet solemn, hardly ever speaking unless he deemed necessary. He usually kept to himself, and was very solitary, sparring alone against invisible foes, instead of other Brotherhood members like the rest did.

He had been polite to her the few times she passed him, nodding a greeting, or speaking hello. But that was it.

But he didn't seem very polite now.

He gave a small smile as he stepped over the broken dresser and into the room.

"So, the little trouble maker is here. I see guessed correctly," he spoke.

Savra stayed still as she watched him glance around the room uninterested.

"You seemed frightened, Savra. Did I frighten you?"

She swallowed before she gathered her voice. "You make a lot of noise for someone who is trained to be quiet."

He gave her a wry smile. "I did didn't I? But it was intentional, I assure you. To get your nerves kicking, yes? After I found you, which was too easy by the way, I decided to have a little fun. I was under the impression that this was going to be more difficult than it was. I'm already disappointed."

He began walking around and Savra's hand moved for the fallen dagger sheath. He noticed and gave a smirk before he continued talking, "You see, Al Mualim rarely sends me out anymore. A mission was compromised some time ago, its how I got this." He pointed to his scar. "After that he felt I was too much of a risk, and kept me closer. I find it insulting that Altair had a second chance given to him so soon after his failure. But I don't complain. He was always Al Mualim's favorite, everyone knows that."

Savra kept her eyes on him as his darker ones swept over the folded clothing and all her other items resting on the ground.

"My second chance came about two weeks ago. Find you, bring you back. Not my choice of an assignment, but as I said, I'm not one to complain. And of course, the assignment became more interesting when it was hinted that Altair himself was hiding you. I found that laughable. Only to be pleasantly surprised when I overheard your little lover's spat a few nights ago."

He looked at her with interest. "Tell me, are you Malik's lover as well? Using your wiles against them both to help keep you safe? I saw you speaking with him yesterday at the market. It's a smart tactic. Very clever."

Savra sneered at him from her seated position as she gripped her dagger casing harder.

His lips quirked at her expression. "No then, I guess. Just Al Maulim's pet, Altair."

He sighed as he looked around again. "Well then, pack up, and let's get going."

Savra's brows furrowed. "What?"

He looked at her with boredom. "My assignment is to find you and then return you to Masyaf. I found you, and now the next part is to return you. That would require you to pack up, unless you'd like to leave your items here. Makes sense, seeing as how you're not going to be having any use for them once arriving there. There is a rumor that your death is impending."

Savra grit her teeth. "You expect me to actually go with you?"

He grinned then, his eyes flashing dangerously with excitement. "I was expecting you to cower and comply, but I see you aren't going to make this easy. Good, I already said this assignment was too easy. I was hoping you would put up a fight."

His dagger was out faster than she had seen his hand move. He twirled it as he approached her. Savra's other hand gripped the handle of her own and yanked the dagger, only it didn't come out of its sheath.

'Get used to pulling it out, its slightly more curved than your old one.' His voice rang in her ears.

Zaim watched her in amusement as he crouched in front of her. He snatched her dagger from her hands quickly before she could stop him and freed it from her belt with ease. He inspected it lazily, then held it out to her by the blade.

Her eyes narrowed in confusion as her hand slowly came to grip the handle. He let go as she did.

"I would not be much of a fight if you were unarmed," he said with a smile." You are already at a disadvantage, seeing as you're a woman."

Her jaw tighten and his eyes lit again.

"You're strange, Zaim," she said eventually.

He chuckled at that. "You just don't know me very well, Savra."

He groaned when her foot slammed into his knee and he fell back in surprise, his eyes seeking hers in shock. She stood and backed away from him with a frown. "And you don't know me either, Zaim."

She saw him ground his jaw as he stood. He stalked up to her, his eyes holding no more mirth. She scrambled back and brought her dagger across her, but he slapped her arm away and backed her into the wall.

She brought her arm across again and he gripped her wrist as he leaned closer, staring only at her eyes. His fingers tightened painfully and she winced, her own fingers loosening their hold on the handle.

Her fingers tightened slowly, ignoring his own as her silver eyes held his brown ones in defiance.

He's wasn't fast enough when she ripped her wrist free, nor was he fast enough to avoid the dagger catching him across the back of his hand as she did so. He starred at the blood pooling out of the new tear in his brown gloves. He stared at her and she stared back.

She didn't see when he had slammed his fist into her stomach. She didn't see it, but she felt it. And it hurt like nothing she had ever felt before, all the air had left her lungs and she involuntarily sank to her knees as her arm came to curl around her belly.

"He never said you had to be in the best shape," Zaim said from above her. "'Just bring her alive, Zaim.' That's what he said."

She coughed hard as she struggled to breathe, her eyes closed tight from the pain.

He grabbed her by her braid and hauled her to her feet, ignoring the strangled yelp she gave. He shoved her back into the wall causing her spine to arch. He gripped his hand around her throat and her eyes widened, her own instructively coming to close over his. He squeezed, watching unfazed as she let hard puffs of air leave her nose.

She gasped in alarm when he lifted her by the neck, her feet inches from the ground, her hand trying to pry his fingers from her, her other struggling to hold the dagger.

She ground her teeth and tried to kick, but he avoided her boots easily.

Her fingers shifted around the dagger as he watched her struggle. She made a motion with her mouth, and spat onto his face.

Outrage filled his features as he flinched back. She saw his other arm come up to wipe his face and she tightened her grip some more, quickly bringing the dagger up and down, embedding itself into his forearm.

Zaim hissed in pain as he released her. She yanked her dagger when he did so and jumped away from him. His eyes glared at her dangerously and he launched himself at her, causing them to tumble onto the ground. She felt his dagger graze her rib, and she quickly maneuvered herself away, trying to keep her arms from getting pinned. He wouldn't stop.

He was furious, she could hear it in his breathing. He was trying to restrain her wrists, and she was doing everything she knew to prevent him.

She kicked him and he growled. He had her by the throat again and she flailed, clawing at his injured arm. He sucked in a pained breath, lifting her neck and slamming it back down onto the stone floor with a sickening smack.

She stopped flailing. Her vision went dark for a few seconds, and she didn't move. She held her eyes closed.

She felt him still above her and grip her chin, moving her head from side to side. She stayed still.

"Wench," he hissed as she felt his weight leave her.

She could still feel him next to her, probably kneeling beside her as he inspected his arm. Her fingers tightened their grip around the handle.

She heard him groan a little as something fell free and clattered to the ground.

He was pressed to her hip and that's where she aimed when she shot up and brought her dagger down.

She was on him, her dagger held to his neck, pressing dangerously against the vein pulsing underneath. His eyes were frozen still on hers. And he held his breath. She shifted her knee and pressed it to his groin roughly, watching him wince. She swallowed as her eyes moved down to the blade, one swipe was all it was going to take. One jerk of her wrist.

But she didn't.

"Still fun?" she whispered to him.

She felt a push against her blade as he swallowed hard and the vibration as he spoke, "Very."

She stared at him for a moment before, trying to figure him out, but it didn't last. She was thrown onto her back and he was already getting up.

She scrambled to her feet as he was reaching down for his dagger and she launched for the window. This room was not the place for this. She had to get to the market, to the public.

Her hands worked frantically to pull herself through the broken boards. She was out to her waist when she felt him grab her boot and pull.

"Don't run, Savra," he said from behind before giving another yank. "I'm in the mood for a fight, not a chase."

She kicked back hard and felt her sole hit flesh.

He growled and grabbed for her foot again. She struggled wildly to pull herself free, and she was out to her hips. When she pressed her hands to the wall for more leverage she felt him let go. And she felt herself fall.

And she screamed, expecting to hit the hard stone floor of the alley with a splat.

Only she didn't.

She hit something softer, but not much better, causing it to fall on the ground with a loud groan.

"Oh, what the hell!" A male's voice complained from beneath her. "I hate Jerusalem!"

Savra looked down after catching her breath only to see the back of a dark blue tunic and the dark hair of someone. She felt him shift over from under her and she was presented with a severely familiar face.

His bronze eyes widened at the sight of her, and widened even more after a second with recognition. "Or maybe not. Yesterday it was piss, but I could be swayed to like it this shit city if occasionally girls like you are thrown on me in between chamber pots."

Savra's eyes narrowed. "You," she ground out.

He grinned wolfishly. "Me, sweetling. Your hero has caught you."

She opened her mouth to say something, but a thought crossed her mind and her eyes snapped up to the window high above. He wasn't there, and she frowned anxiously.

Her silver eyes were brought down in surprise went she felt the man beneath her place his hands on her legs. She was very aware then that she was still sitting on him.

"I was beginning to think I'd never see you again, little huntress," Ilyas spoke with a pleased smile.

"I was hoping that would be the case," she replied with a frown. She held some contempt for him after what Altair had said the other night, even if he had only made it up, it still bothered her.

His expression dropped for a split second before he recovered. "You did just use me to break your fall. This is the second time I've saved you from death."

"I wouldn't have died."

"No, just wound up very broken, in pieces, and I would have just stepped over you in disgust. Never to know it was my little huntress whose body parts littered this alleyway." He winked mischievously.

His eyes caught something on her right arm and they narrowed, and then she felt him stiffen as his hand came to brush over the fur covering the small bracer she wore. "You are her, aren't you?" he asked in disbelief.

Savra made a face of confusion. "Wha—"

"The assassin, he bought that from me. For his lady." Savra's eyes narrowed some and watched as his own went to her left arm, shaking his head when he saw the leather sleeve. "You are that girl. This small world we live in, isn't it?" He began to sit up, she moved herself to the stone floor and watched.

"You know he is an assassin?" she asked quietly.

Ilyas nodded as he brushed the front of his tunic. "Yes, wasn't too hard to figure out."

Savra gave a small nod after a moment, her eyes trailing back up to the window.

"So, someone pushed you out?" Ilyas asked as he glanced at her when he saw her attention keep getting drawn to the opening in the wall.

"Something like that…" she replied without looking. He wasn't in the mood for a chase he had said. It still didn't stop her heart from speeding.

Ilyas cracked a small smile. "What did you do?".

Savra turned her gaze to him then before glancing at the bloodied dagger she still held in her hand. Ilyas' eyes followed.

"Damn," he said lowly. "Did… you kill someone?"

Savra shook her head. No, she didn't kill anyone.

He looked at her carefully. "Are you an assassin as well?"

A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "No, I'm just a stupid girl who is trying to avoid being assassinated."

Ilyas' lips quirked as he raised a brow. "How strange! So am I."

Savra couldn't help the quiet chuckle that left under her breath. Ilyas grinned and looked around. "So, where's the fool who's trying to kill you?"

Savra's expression dropped then as she looked up at the window again. "I don't know…"

Ilyas stood and began brushing his trousers, checking his belt for the two curved daggers the rested at his hips. He glanced down at Savra before holding his hand out for her.

She looked at it for a second, then grabbed it to help her stand, wincing at the pain that surfaced in her stomach.

Ilyas noticed. "Why would someone be trying to kill you?"

Savra shook her head. "It's very complicated."

"Hmm, must be," he said as he glanced down the alley.

Savra stayed staring at the window. All her things were in there. Everything. And she didn't know what she should do about it, she didn't know if Zaim was still there. And she couldn't stay there anymore anyway.

"Where is your assassin?" Ilyas asked, Savra moved her eyes to his questioningly. "Or... is he the one trying to kill you? Is that something you two do? Something you prefer...?"

Savra balked at his suggestion, her eyes wide. "No! Why would you think that?"

Ilyas shrugged simply. "People have all sorts of tastes when it comes to... pleasure."

"Stop talking," Savra said exasperatedly and turned from him to keep an eye on the window.

Ilyas chuckled and came to her side, looking up as well.

"So then, where is he and why is he not here at your aide?" he asked, more serious than before.

"Oh…He's …gone..."

Iyas stared at her then, searching, but Savra kept her gaze from him.

"Alright… is that where you live?" He gestured toward the window.

"No, just my things are in there. I… need them."

"And you're afraid."

Savra shot him a look. "Wouldn't you be?"

He chuckled as he put his hands up. "I guess I would be if someone was trying to kill me."

He turned his sights up. "I could get them for you, if you'd like."

Savra gave him an uncertain look. "Can you climb that?"

Ilyas grinned. "Can I climb that she asks. Of course I can climb that."

"What are you doing here anyway?" she asked as she watched him begin to climb.

"The storm was too much to put up with out there. I've been staying in a tavern for a few days."

She followed his figure as he disappeared into the window, and she glanced around nervously while she waited.

When he reemerged, he tossed her rucksack down which he had placed all her items in. He fit her bow out of the window and dropped it as well. She caught it easily and waited for him to climb down.

He jumped the last couple of feet and ran a hand through his dark hair. "There's a lot of blood on the floor."

"Yes, I imagine." She replied, distracted. She glanced down the alleyway again, wondering if it was too late for Lamis' shop to be open.

"What are you going to do now?" He asked her.

She shook her head. "I don't know. I think I'm going to hide in the Bazaar for a few hours, and then find someplace else to stay."

Ilyas' brows furrowed. "You have no place to go? Do you not live here?"

Her eyes moved to his for a second. "No. But that's my fault, and I'll figure something out." She began pulling on her cloak, sparing him another glance before walking down the alley towards the Bazaar, pausing to speak over her shoulder. "Hmm… thanks, for letting me fall on you."

She saw his bronze eyes light up in amusement. "It was my pleasure. Fall on me all you'd like, little huntress."

Savra rolled her eyes but smiled good-naturedly before giving a wave and making her way back to the bazaar, eyes darting to every shadow that crossed.

It wasn't long before the hunter's voice came from behind. "Wait!"

She turned to see him walking up with a furrowed brow. "I… can help you."

Savra began to protest. "No, I don't want your he—"

"Let me help you," he said more sternly. "Just until he isn't trailing you anymore."

Savra stayed silent as she looked at him, biting the inside of her cheek anxiously.

"Let me help you," he said again, his bronze eyes strangely serious.

Savra fought the urge to say no again. She needed help. She knew she did. She had not expected Zaim to actually find her. And had really not expected him to be so... brutal and determined. She was out of her depth. Just like Malik and Altair had warned. She sighed before swallowing. "I…alright."

Ilyas gave a nod with a relieved smile. "Good, come this way then. I know of a place."

He turned the other way and started walking down the alley. Savra hesitated to follow and he glanced back when he didn't hear her footsteps.

Ilyas paused and waited. "Trust me," he said.

It took her a while to think, but eventually, she made up her mind.

So she followed the hunter. Silver eyes mindful of the shadows.

Authors Note: Thanks for Reading!

Sombrette