Chapter Fifty –Two
Disclaimer: I don't own anything that UbiSoft does.
A/N: I wanted to have this up by Christmas but work wouldn't allow me, then again on New Year's but I wasn't in my right mind. This would have been up earlier last week, but I received news of one of my grandparents coming down with lung cancer. So this is early because I will not be home to update it on its normal date. And yes, I have beat Revelations, yes I did cry, will I be using some of the information given in the game? That's up for me to decide. Until then, here's the newest chapter.
That thought stayed in my head as we made camp for the evening. I didn't understand why I had come up with such a ridiculous thought. I have had my vaccines and shots, so I shouldn't be a carrier or infected. Sucks that I have to take risks.
Lying back on the sands of the desert, looking up at the unfamiliar stars, I sighed, tucking my hands behind my head.
I wondered; if the Apple taught me Arabic, did it bring me here? What brought me to the twelfth century anyways? I don't think there's a Piece of Eden that could mess with time and space. Something like that was just…otherworldly. Then again, according to some of the nut theories that I've heard, I have high doubts that the Pieces of Eden and the mysterious "Those Who Came Before" can really do anything like that. I shook my head, never finished the second game to really figure out who they were.
Sighing, I glanced over at the assassin, watching as he warmed his fingers near the fire, the missing digit standing out moreso than usual. "Did it hurt?"
Altair golden eyes looked over at me, before turning back to the flame. "For a short while." He rubbed at what he had left, as if remembering it.
Sitting up, I crossed my legs, holding onto my ankles. "It's a commitment every assassin must make, right?" He grunted. "A choice of what you have to do for the rest of your life. Not that different from marriage I suppose."
"Marriage?" His head turned sharply, giving me a funny look. "And how do you see the similarity between marriage and being an assassin?"
I nodded to his hand. "Where I'm from, you would put a ring on that finger to show that you have a spouse. Should there be verbal fights, it's much like the trash talk you assassins have with your opponents."
"Trash talk?"
"Taunting them."
"I do not taunt." I smiled, knowing another with similar features who does. "I still fail to see the similarities."
I looked over to the fire, holding my hand out, the heat seeping through my skin, warming my hand. "Well, it's still a lifetime commitment. That you would defend your spouse with your life, much like you assassins do with the creed, with its honor. You'd die before you let anything bad happen to it. You trust it."
"The creed is not a bed warmer, nor can it produce children."
Glancing over at Altair, I felt anger that he would say that about my gender, and yet, sad that he would say such a thing after her. "Is that how you see us?"
He didn't say anymore, looking back to the flames, his hood hiding his eyes again. Sighing, I turned away, looking at the sticks inside the fire, as it was being eaten by the hungry flame like a glutton after cake. No, I knew he didn't. Rolling over, turning my back on him, I closed my eyes, trying to get some sleep. Acre's realization made me concerned and if what I thought was true, then I am in some serious need for some help.
-.-.-
Morning came, and with it, the eerie quiet that would pass between us. Clicking my tongue, I gripped the reins tightly, wondering if I should continue to ride with Altair. He'd be heading to Damascus next, then to Jerusalem, from there, to wherever Robert was. What would I be doing then? Would I be following him still or would I be in Masyaf, in the care of his master? Should I sneak away one night and fight my chances in the desert or should I merely stay behind in one of the cities?
No, I had my stupid fangirly mark on me which meant that if another assassin should spot me then I would be brought into the creed once again and dealt with the punishment of being a traitor. I am not a traitor. I am not even an assassin! I sighed, realizing that I would have to stay, that I would have to see everything through.
It pained me to know that I'd have my heart broken.
Stupid stupid me.
Damn whatever brought me here.
An eagle called out over head, making me look up. In its sharp talons was what looked like a dead snake, perhaps one that it caught while hunting. I could imagine it coming out of no-where, catching and killing the snake instantly before flying away. How very similar this bird of prey was to the assassin riding with me. It must be in search of a perch nearby to eat its kill, to taste the savory victory of knowing that it was a mighty hunter, bested by nothing else in the skies.
"Wish I could fly."
Altair's hood turned my way. "And be like Icarus?" Holy shit, he knew literature.
I frowned. "I doubt that I would ever fashion wings that large to carry me over the skies. I'm also afraid of heights so I'm pretty sure that I'd only glide over short distances while staying as low as I could to the ground."
He cocked an eyebrow. "Then why wish it?"
"Doesn't everyone?" Sighing, I shook my head. "No, of course not. You seem as if you're flying when you're bounding across the rooftops and jumping from unbelievably high places with nothing to land on save for a hay pile." He grinned, hiding his eye beneath his hood. Cocky assassin prick. "Aren't you afraid of falling?"
He didn't say anything for a while before letting out a breath. "Once."
"Have you fallen before?"
"Once. I broke my arm."
I blinked incredulously at him. Him, the assassin who knew no fear, who was so perfect at almost anything he did, well, game wise that is. "How did that happen?"
He didn't say anything which made me think that he was either showing off or was trying to prove himself. Who would he be showing off to though? This couldn't have happened when he was an adult or a teenager, maybe a kid. Maybe it was to prove his worth to the other novices? To Al Mualim?
"Boys will be boys, I suppose." Turning my head away, I let out a small smile. "Should you have sons, I fear they would be just like you."
His horse turned as he cocked his head. "Seeing my future again, soothsayer?" My smile grew as I said nothing. "Tell me, is it mine you only see, or the whole future?"
I looked up to see his golden eyes, stopping Glue to sigh. "I know so much about you, assassin, so much that you will do before you even think of it. I know what will happen soon, the outcome of battles between you and your enemies and many things that you will do in your lifetime." He blinked once, but his face remained stoic. "I do know the future, in a way, but I cannot tell you any of it."
"You are afraid."
"There are a small handful of people I think of when I keep information from you." He gave me a curious look but I wouldn't say anymore. I couldn't. I had to think of his soon to be family, of his descendants, of those that I have known almost as well as I've grown to know him. I think of them, of the ones who would be affected by anything he will do.
We didn't say much else as we continued on our way, walking through the night as the tips of the mountains of Masyaf came into view. My heart pounded against my ribcage as I took a breath slowly.
The master of assassins, the old man in the mountain, would ask Altair of his mission, I knew that much, but he'd also expect for me to be as I was when I had left, different.
Still, I took a deep breath and readied myself for anything.
It was morning when we reached the cavern leading to the village. The river could be heard and the smells of the village told me that the people inside were moving about. Petting Glue as I released him into the hold of the assassin horse master, petting Anisa as I walked by. I was worried about her but she seemed to be in better spirits and even trotted over to nip at Altair's robes, tugging on the fabric gently.
She seemed to be...bigger a little bit around the tummy. "Is she pregnant?" I asked the horse master.
The assassin was an older man with silver in his hair, giving him the silver fox look. "She'll have a foal in the spring, I should think." He winked at me then, his dark eyes bright and mischievous. "It is odd considering that they would be bred here in Masyaf when instead, she was stubborn and did it in the dead of night, not but a month or two ago."
Kadin...she was carrying Kadin's foal. My thoughts raced back to the dark horse with such soft fur and strong legs. Looking at Altair, I saw him rubbing her large face, his hand scratching at her chin as she lipped at his palm, looking for anything sweet to have. As I smiled, I couldn't help but notice that she was the only thing he was gentle with.
That would change soon, I knew that much.
Walking ahead of the assassin, I looked around the village, not seeing too much difference except that the produced had changed just a little bit. Children were still playing, still moving with speeds that would soon be noticed by the other assassins. How many children were pulled away from their family and friends so that they could be trained to fight, to kill, to die for something that they had no control over?
I tried to push past that feeling as I noticed some novices running around the rooftops, holding some sort of prize of either stolen fruit or a red piece of fabric. Was it part of their training to do this though? I had never noticed that Altair really was a thief, that he was trained to steal out of people's bags and pockets without being noticed. Who had taught him to be a thief? Was it Al Mualim? Another assassin? Was it something he had picked up from watching others?
I have seen the boys in their white hoods jumping from place to place, their speeds faster than any of which I had seen. I had never really gotten in parkour back at home, never really been introduced to it but this was fascinating to watch them run across buildings and to make smooth jumps and brave leaps across wide gaps between buildings.
I would have continued to watch them, if I wasn't suddenly bumped into by a very spiteful person. "Can you not be a bother to everyone, girl?" I heard. Turning my head, I frowned at Abbas but lowered my eyes. I couldn't pick a fight with him. It wasn't my place to stand up to someone that could kill me. "Stay out of my way," he snarled, walking past Altair, bumping shoulders with him as well but Altair didn't look back, instead, his head rose higher as his pace continued, leaving Abbas to stand there, a furious look across his face.
I said nothing as I followed Altair, wondering if it would be worth staying for a day or two of recuperation. Would it be worth the risk of being controlled again by Al Mualim? I really didn't have a choice in the matter. If I run, I'm a traitor, but if I stay, I will live in fear.
These thought plagued with my mind until I noticed that all too quickly, we had arrived at the library. I held my breath as we passed under the stone arch that lead into the courtyard of the training facility, seeing that once again, Ra'uf and his students were missing. In fact, nearly all the assassins were missing.
Why? What would make them leave their post? I looked at the large window, seeing Al Mualim looking out, and I could barely make out a smile beneath that full beard of his.
My stomach twisted but I stayed quiet, walking much closer to the assassin as we entered the cool library. It was a welcomed relief from under the hot sun that I wanted to pull away my shawl but instead, I was frozen with worry. I didn't fear the assassins around me, no, I feared the man behind them all.
The doors of the gardens were open and I could hear the soft giggles of the water that ran through the garden but not of the girls. Something was terribly wrong, I could feel it in my gut.
"Welcome home, child," came the deep voice. Turning my head, I saw Al Mualim watching Altair, as if he was proud of him. He didn't address me, for that which I was grateful, but as we walked to be in front of Al Mualim's desk, I stayed behind, standing near the bookcase, watching the men interact. "What news?"
Altair lowered his head in a bow before staring at his master in the eye. "Another of the named has been put to rest," he said calmly. I blinked. This was where the wise man read in the codex was found. This was the man I knew Altair would become.
Al Mualim nodded and rose to full height. "Then it would appear that your work is nearly complete and your status restored." I could see a smile grace his lips, a proud man indeed.
"A question, master, if I may," Altair inquired, cocking his head forward.
"Ask and I will answer," Al Mualim granted, nodded as he turned to his left, as if ready to pace.
"Why these men, Jubair and Sibrand?" Altair asked, holding his hands up as if holding the names of the nine.
The old man gave a sly smile, as if he was playing with fire. I inched away from him, being reminded of a snake. "Ah, but you see," he started. "They pave the way for change." His hand made a sweeping motion, as if he was moving something aside, something invisible. "Ensure threats both old and new are not given cause to intervene."
Altair blinked, looking at the ground, his eyebrows furrowing. He was becoming wise, I could see it. "To weaken them is to weaken our enemy," he said softly, as if seeing pieces of a puzzle being fit together. "I suppose that makes sense."
I wanted to smile, knowing that he would see through these half truths soon. It was true, what Al Mualim was saying, that the Templars were weakening both Richard and Saladin's armies so that they wouldn't see anything unexpected coming. But at the same time, I knew that this was also a plan for Al Mualim, I just couldn't say anything, not yet.
"For these men to continue their work, our work would quickly be undone." Again, this was a half truth. If there wasn't any fighting, there wouldn't be need for assassins, no need for anyone to die over something stupid and petty.
Altair could see this, I knew that, for he looked up, his golden eyes narrowing to look at his master. "How is that? We've caused them much grief," he stated. Soon, Altair, this will be clear soon, I swear it.
"We strike at the arms, yes, but this is a hydra that you face and it is quick to replace that which is severed." I frowned.
Altair curled a fist. "Then we should chop off its head and be done with it," he said angrily.
A knowing smile touched Al Mualim's face, as if he was pleased with the way things were going. "Soon, soon," he promised. "We are close. Only one more man stands between us and our ultimate goal." Al Mualim spoke of Jubair in Damascus.
"I'll return to my work," Altair said, his head up as he stood ready. "The sooner this last man dies, the sooner I face our true enemy." No, Altair, how wrong you are.
Not ready to dismiss his student, the master of assassins raised his hand. "Before you go, I have a question for you."
Altair's face softened. I blinked in wonder. I had never seen him without some fire in his eyes and now he was calm. This was the man who would do great things. This was the Altair the world knew. "Of course."
"What is the truth?" Al Mualim asked, pacing in front of Altair now.
Without hesitation, Altair answered. "We place faith in ourselves, we see the world the way it really is and hope that all mankind might see the same." The Eagle of Masyaf's eyes followed his master's movements.
"What is the world then?" Al Mualim asked, barely letting Altair finish.
"An illusion; one that we can either submit to, like most do, or transcend."
"What is it to transcend?" He was now in front of the dangerous assassin. For a moment, I forgot the truth, I forgot where I came from and what I knew.
"To recognize that nothing is true and everything is permitted." The motto of the creed, the saying that beats within every heart of every assassin in the world, that which binds them to the creed for life. As it beat in their hearts, it beat in mine. "That laws arise not from divinity, but from reason." Altair paused, looking away before looking back at his master. "I understand now that our creed does not command us to be free, it commands us to be wise."
No. No assassin is free. They are bound to the creed, this lifestyle. If one were to leave, they would still know everything that they know, they still know the truth, that there are still dangers out in the world, they would still want to fight these dangers, to save who and what they can before succumbing to death and its embrace.
"Do you see now why the Templars are a threat?" asked Al Mualim.
Altair nodded once. "Whereas we would dispel the illusion, they would use it to rule." His voice grew darker, as if it knew of the ominous fate the Templars had in store for the world.
The old man nodded. "Yes, to reshape the world in an image more pleasing to them," he said gently, his hands raising as if her held crafting tools. "That is why I sent you to steal their treasure, that is why I keep it locked away," he said, his head turning to his desk. "And that is why you kill them," he stated, turning back to look at his dangerous student, a darkness entering his voice. So long as one survives, so too is their desire to create a new world order."
Lowering his hands, he was once again the teacher. "Take your equipment, seek out this last man. With his death, Robert de Sable will at last be vulnerable." He turned to walk back to his desk, watching it carefully. Was the Apple talking to him, showing him images?
I didn't ask, I couldn't, I looked to Altair instead as he bowed his head, closing his eyes. "It will be done."
Almost as if he forgot something, the master of assassins turn to Altair, raising his hand. "Safety and peace upon you, Altair." The assassin said nothing for nothing needed to be said and we both watched as Al Mualim went to the giant window to over look the fortress and village that was Masyaf, his hand folded behind his back.
On the desk I could see the short blade, knowing that this was one of Altair's personal ones. As he picked it up, he swung it around with grace before tucking it under his arm, sheathing it and stretched, getting use to having the weight on his back.
Our eyes met for a second before looking over at Al Mualim. The master didn't have anything to say to me, one which I was very grateful for.
The assassin crossed the balcony again, motioning me to follow. I looked back at Al Mualim before nodding, listening to the scholars whisper softly amongst themselves as they were hunched over books. "You were both wrong," I whispered, once we left the library. "You were wrong about the hydra. They grow their heads back, not their arms. To kill them, you stab them in the heart," I said, putting a fist to my own. "Here, so that they would never rise back up."
Altair smirked, nodded. "Then that's where we will hit them next." He then looked over at the window, to see his master once more before return to his walk to the village. "What of Jubair?"
I sighed. Of course. "Jubair al-Hakim is a scholar. Whatever his evil is, you will put an end to it, I have no doubt about that." I paused in my thinking however. "How did you know his name was Jubair? I doubt that even Al Mualim would be informed of what he's doing in Damascus."
It took Altair a second, his eyebrows furrowing together. "Al Mualim told me, when I returned from the sleep of the dead," he said slowly, his hand touching his abdomen, to the scar I knew would be there, the mark of a traitor in Al Mualim's eyes.
It was then that I saw it and felt satisfied that I am helping. Altair was beginning to doubt his master even more now.
A/N: It was rushed, I'm aware, I was packing and cleaning as I was typing, trying to finish this before it was time to go. Next week, everything will be back on schedule.
