The Story of a Rafiq

Chapter 26

Malik knew that being a father, a leader over the creed, and a part-time baby sitter for Darim and Sef was not going to be easy. What he didn't expect was the lack of faith that the other Assassin's had in him. As he passed people in the courtyard, or while out getting breakfast he kept getting glances that told him how much they respected him. They glared, sometimes gave pitiful looks, looking at his arm as if he were a cripple on the street who could not muster any strength to do anything. He knew that was going to have to change, but how?

He glared down at his porridge, waiting for the courtyard to fill up more, Tazim sat next to him, nudging him and trying to get his uncle to eat, but couldn't manage to do so. Finally, when he knew the time was right, he stood, placing his bowl down and marching over to Majid, who blinked up at him curiously.

"Is everything alright Malik?"

"Fight me."

"Excuse me?" People turned to look at them, confused, some looking at the now ex-Rafiq as if he were mad.

"Fight me. You are a master assassin, are you not? Do you dare back away from a challenge?"

Majid frowned and stood, crossing his arms, "Malik, what's your reasoning for this?"

"Just fight me." He knew his final strand of patience had snapped, and he did not mean to take it out on his uncle, but he knew that he was not going to gain any respect the way things were going. If he himself couldn't fight, why would anyone else trust his word or lead?

He walked over to the training circle and hopped over the fence, taking long strides over to the swords and grabbing two. He tossed one over to his uncle, the man grabbing the hilt with ease, looking at his nephew concerned. Why shouldn't he be? Malik had just called him out during breakfast and now everyone was staring, questioning if their leader had lost it. Why had Altair left this man in control of everything? He knew that was the question on everyone's mind as he glanced around at the faces that surrounded them. His eyes landed on Rauf, who raised a brow at him. If only Malik had a way to communicate to the other, to tell the man what he was doing.

"Are you sure you wish to fight?" Majid asked, keeping his blade lowered still.

"Yes."

The two got in their stances, briefly reminding Malik of his and Altair's first sword fight, then both lunged forward, their blades clashing as they began their dance. They side stepped to avoid blows, lunged forward to make their own. The battle was longer than any Malik had to endure for a very long time. Sweat perspired on his brow as he kept his eyes trained to the other, Majid sweating just as much as he concentrated on the movements. For a while it seemed like a dead even match before Majid's sword swat to the side, the older man staring at his now unarmed hand, stunned. His uncle never doubted Malik's skill as an assassin, and always knew he was well taught with the blade, but never did he ever think that his nephew could beat him.

The assassin's around them slowly started to clap as their shock subsided, the one-armed man smiling slightly as he reached his hand out to his uncle, who took his hand earnestly. "It is good to see your skill has not deteriorated. If I had offered to tie an arm behind my back I'm afraid I might have lost even sooner," he stated, grinning to show Malik he meant it as a compliment.

Malik nodded his head respectfully, then turned to look at the crowd, who had their eyes trained on him, anticipating what he was going to do next. Was he going to challenge another man? What was in store?

"If any man doubts my skills, please step forward. But I will have you know that I do not intend to back down. Master Altair left me in charge because he knows that I will move forward motivated and determined, just as the fight you just witnessed. I will do my best, listen to words of others and keep the creed close to my heart as we further our cause. I repeat, does any man wish to challenge me?"

No one answered, which relieved Malik. Not because he was worried for another fight, but because that meant that the people trusted him now, or to a degree. He would continue to do his best, but now that he proved to them that he was not a cripple, he felt confident that he could lead these people just as Altair had told him. He caught Rauf's eye once again, and gave him a smile, earning one in return, a silent 'Well done' was passed between them as his old classmate turned and headed back to the gates to stand guard as he usually did.

"Should have warned this old man of your intentions," Majid stated, laughing lightly as the crowd dispersed and went back to what they were doing before.

"I was angry, I apologize."

The older man nodded his head and looked to Tazim who walked over to them looking up meekly. "You really are a great assassin Baba," he complimented, grinning as Malik reached out and ruffled his hair.

"You will be a great assassin too as long as you keep your training up."

The boy nodded his head, then rushed back to the courtyard, no doubt going to finish his breakfast before going to his novice classes. Majid patted Malik on the shoulder, before he too headed back to the courtyard since he was a mentor to the young.

He looked up, noticing Abbas watching him from the side. Anger swelled up in his chest, but he held it inside, turning and heading up to the room on top of the library that Al Mualim use to reside in. He walked to the desk, then glanced to the front of it, grinning slightly as a memory flooded his mind, the ghosts of the past staring up at the desk in horror, scared to be told that he was doing badly. He remembered once being so scared of a failed mission that he clung to Altair's hand, staring hard at the floor, waiting for Al Mualim to speak.

He rubbed the back of his head before turning to walk behind the desk and sit down. He pulled out the book from his robes, then opened a bottle of ink and dabbed his quill in it, and continued where he left off...

"What news, Novice?" Malik asked, grinning to himself to see the appalled look on the assassin's face as he entered the room.

"I am not a novice," he countered, his eyes narrowing very slightly.

Malik 'tsked' slightly before continuing, "A man's skill is defined by his actions, not the markings on his robe." Was this really the Rafiq's way of trying to find reason to forgive the other? He honestly didn't know.

"We can trade barbs, or do Al Mualim's work. It's your decision," he stated, making Malik glare at him this time.

"Then be out with it!"

"Jerusalem Regent, Majd Addin is holding a public execution not far from here. It's sure to be well guarded but it's nothing I can't handle. I know what to do."

Back to square one. A muscle twitched in Malik's jaw as he rolled his eyes, "And that," he stated, refraining from sounding even more judgmental than he already was, "is why you remain a novice, in my eyes. You cannot know anything, only suspect. You must expect to be wrong, to have overlooked something. Anticipate, Altair. How many times must I remind you of this?" Was the other a child once again? Did they go back in time, and were still in Masyaf in their novice classes?

"As you wish. Are we done?"

"Not quite. There is one more thing," Malik stated. He had almost forgotten this from the rage that he was feeling for the man in front of him. He should have known better than to lecture the idiot instead of getting to the point. "One of the men to be executed is a brother, one of us. Al Mualim wishes for him to be saved. Do not worry about the actual rescue; my men will take care of that. But you must ensure Majd Addin does not take his life."

"I won't give him the chance," Altair stated confidently.

"So I hope..." Malik trailed off and produced a feather, sliding it forward, the assassin taking it, then leaving without another word, passing two hooded men who were waiting near the entrance.

"Are we to go with him?" one of the men asked, Malik shaking his head.

"No, keep a distance from him. Find your way into the execution and save our brother. If the novice messes up try your best to still save him. I will not have another good man murdered because of him," he looked down, the two bowing their heads.

"Safety and peace, Rafiq," they chorused, Malik bowing his head and repeating the same words to them, and watched as they departed.

A few minutes passed before he found himself walking to his room and laying on the bed. It would be a few hours at the very least before anyone returned with any news. He was feeling tired with worry, and also a bit of fear. What was he scared of? He bit his lower lip and let out a sigh. Of course he knew that answer. He was scared that Altair was never going to change. Sometimes he seemed like he was, then others... He shook his head and nuzzled into the cushion letting out an exasperated breath. "What am I going to do, Kadar?" he whispered against the fabric.

He felt a pang in his heart, and clutched his chest, tearing up. He missed Altair more than anything. He missed hugging him. He missed sleeping next to him. He missed the way he smelled after he washed up after a long week of travel. He missed his childish attitude that he only showed around him. He missed everything that he was. He clung to the fabric of his robes and sat up, throwing his cushion across the room and yelling out in frustration. Let the people outside hear him, the neighbors, whoever! He just wanted Altair back.

After he got all his frustration out, he walked out of his room, and flopped down in his chair. How long had it been? Minutes? Hours? He rubbed his forehead and glanced up as an assassin walked into the room, his hood donned over his head so he could not see who it was. He knew better than to think it was Altair, this man held himself high, as if he had lived a while and knew his stature in life.

"Safety and Peace, Rafiq," the man spoke. Malik knew that voice. He frowned and raised a brow, repeating the words back to him, watching him carefully. The man let out a soft laugh, then removed his hood, revealing that it was Majid.

Malik stood, immediately crossing the room and pulling his uncle into a hug, "How have you been, Uncle?" he asked, pulling back and looking into the eyes of one of the few men he could really trust with his life.

"Well, and yourself?"

"Tormented..." he half laughed, running his hand through his hair. "Altair is on a mission to kill Majd Addin as we speak."

"And the fact that he is here is bothering you?"

"Slightly," his brow twitched slightly as he sat down in his chair, his shoulders slumped forward slightly in an almost depressed state.

"It's why I am here actually. Al Mualim requested I check up on you myself. Of course, I wanted to anyway, but it was a perfect chance... Have you had the opportunity to mourn?" he asked, slowly.

"Plenty... I suppose I am just having a hard time adjusting to this new life. I keep finding myself wishing for the past..."

"I understand the feeling..." That was right. Majid lost Tamir as well as Kadar. He knew exactly what Malik was going through right now, and even though he himself did not lose a limb, he still lost a part of himself. "But everyone mourns differently, correct? It is hard," he nodded.

"I believe there is something wrong with me, Uncle..." Malik slowly looked up at Majid's questioning gaze, "I have accepted my brothers death, and the loss of my appendage... But it's not that I am mourning about that as much anymore. It's... Altair. I miss him. And him being here makes it even harder to accept that he has changed. Abbas and Al Mualim have told me he is repenting, and yes I know he is sorry for what he did, but my heart still aches. I feel I cannot just mourn this and move on..."

"It's because you love him. That feeling won't just go away," Majid started, choosing his words wisely, "He may have changed, and he may be repenting, but it's who he ends up in the end is what we have to look at. If you think about it, he may have just been lost, and is in the process of coming back to us. And when he is back to the way he was, would you be able to accept him?"

Malik was silent for a moment before he sighed and shook his head, "I do not know the answer."

"And you can't. It's all about the healing process that is going on in your own heart, and the strides he makes in life. He may take a step closer to your heart, or a step away. Time will only tell."

At his uncle's words Malik was suddenly feeling a light sensation. For the first time since before the incident at Solomon's Temple, he felt at ease and relieved. Majid understood him, and knew exactly what to say. He lifted his hand and bit the side of his finger, before lowering it and looking up at the other man, who was smiling kindly to him. "Thank you," he whispered, the other nodding his welcome.

The two jumped as the sound of bells erupted from outside. Malik stood and walked to the entrance, closing the gates and then walking back into the room, looking to his uncle who smirked slightly. "What?" the Rafiq asked, raising a brow as the other shrugged.

"I've never been in a Bureau before when the gates were closed," he stated, making Malik smile and lean back against his desk.

"You must be tired from your journey. If you'd like you can rest in my room."

"I'll take you up on that offer, thank you." The older man stood upright, then entered through the room that Malik pointed to, closing the door behind him to give him privacy with his dreams. Now the only thing that Malik could do was wait it out till the bells stopped ringing...

It was a good hour after Malik opened the gates before his two men entered, giving him the news that the mission went well and that the rescued assassin was hidden away safely and being tended to the few wounds that he had. The Rafiq told them to wait out for his next orders, not praising them, but unable to hide the glow of pride he felt for finding the right men in the city to be on his side. He walked over to his desk, and flopped back in his chair, suddenly feeling tired from all his emotions from the day.

It wasn't long after that Altair could be heard dropping down into the Bureau. He couldn't tell if the other was going to be cocky, or modest. He was hoping the latter. He did not feel like snapping at him, he didn't have the energy to.

"Jerusalem needs a new ruler," the other stated as he walked in the doorway.

"So I have heard," Malik stated simply as he stood, looking over the unfinished map on his desk. What more could he say to the other?

"What's this?" Malik's nose twitched in annoyance. "No words of wisdom for me? Surely I have failed in some spectacular fashion."

Was he looking for a prize? A congratulations for doing his job? Well Malik was not going to indulge him, not at all. "You performed as an assassin should, no more, no less. That you expect praise for merely doing as told however, troubles me."

"It seems everything I do troubles you." Did he hear his voice shake at the end? He looked up, unable to see his eyes because of his hood, and his lower half of his face revealed nothing.

"Reflect on that. But do so on your way back to Masyaf. Your work here is done."

Malik watched as the other left with haste, holding his tongue as he refrained from calling him back. He rubbed at his eyes and nodded his head, sitting back down and staring at his desk, his brows furrowed. He could see it now. Altair was trying to change, trying to go back to the way he was. Malik was simply snapping at him for every little thing. He was picking the fights. He wasn't giving him a chance. And now who knew how long it was going to be till he saw him next. He frowned and for the first time in a while, clutched the stump of an arm, his eyes narrowing to glaring slits.

Kadar would not have wanted any of this. He would not want all the work and effort to make a lasting a true relationship to go down the drain this easily. Yes, his brother lost his life, and yes Malik lost his arm, but even so the younger Al-Sayf brother would never want this to prolong this much. He'd want forgiveness, especially since Altair was obviously trying to seek that forgiveness. The Rafiq looked up at the ceiling. There were so many emotions running through his mind, and all were conflicting. He wanted a break from all of his thoughts. He bit his tongue and shook his head.

All he knew he could do at this point was to bare with it, and keep moving forward...

Notes:

Hopefully the two chapters back to back make up for the lack of an update for a while. I really am sorry, even though I have said in the last chapter, and I really do hope you forgive me OTL. We are getting closer to the end of the younger Malik, and with that I'll be adding more older Malik in the next chapters.

Review Response:

Ookamikuro: Don't worry~ Malik won't die, I can promise you that. The story is progressing on the plot of the game, but with certain details altered (Malik's death being one of the many alterations) So you don't have to worry about that x3

Please review~ It lets me know what I am doing right and wrong, if you liked it or hated it, etc. Any response is something! x3