Part Two

Chapter 11

Jennifer Hernandez:

The Inn is quiet when we finally arrive. It's small too, more of a big cottage than an Inn like the 21st century knows them. The walls are made of nothing more than wood, big logs stacked on top of each other, and the only source of light comes from candles and a small hearth.

We're sitting at equally wooden tables, eating some sort of stew as a late dinner. Other than the occasional slurping of the broth, we're as quiet as the rest of the Inn. If any other travelers are staying the night, we're not sure. Late as it is, everyone has probably gone to bed by now.

Though, for all the calm and quiet, an uneasy tension settles over us. It makes the stew hard to swallow despite its admittedly good taste. There is an expectation in that tension, one so heavy, I don't get more than a few spoonfuls in before I call it quits.

"So, when are you guys going to start yelling?" I finally ask, Ken looks up from his bowl. He hasn't eaten much of it either, choosing to push the contents around with his spoon rather than actually eat it. So it's relatively full when he pushes it away from him. "Because, as much as we honestly deserve it, I want to be prepared."

"We are not going to yell," Leonardo soothes, a fond smile on his lips as he places down his spoon. He sits across from Ken and me, right next to Ezio. His eyes are as warm as his smile then, even if they shine with just the tiniest bit of amusement when he nudges Ken's bowl back to him.

"We are not?" Ezio asks, looking up from his bowl in surprise then. Stew stains his lips, leaving orange grease stains as he swallows the last of his stew. Where most of us haven't really touched the stew, he's devoured it like a starving man.

"Of course not," Leonardo says, words coming out like a warning as he shoots Ezio a pointed look. "They are fully grown adults. If they want to run around, recklessly drawing attention to themselves and endangering their lives, it is completely their own choice to make."

Oh, yeah, he's pissed.

"If it's any consolation," I mumble, cheeks heating up in embarrassment as I slowly swirl the stew with my spoon. Too embarrassed, I refuse to make eye contact and just watch as the vegetables bump around the bowl. "We really didn't mean to get into trouble."

"Of course, not," Leonardo easily agrees, watching us both with amused eyes. There's nothing angry in his gaze, or even the tone of his voice but his words are enough to let me know that, for all his smiles, he's not pleased with us. "But you have yet to realize that trouble follows you two like an old Mistress, bitter and waiting at every turn to ruin your lives."

"That is one way of putting it," Ezio mutters, clearly still annoyed. Where Leonardo can and does hide his displeasure, Ezio doesn't even bother to. He doesn't bring up the topic again though. Instead, he just pushes away from the table. Taking our packs with him, he doesn't spare us another glance as he says, "I am going to find some wench to wash your belongings and will meet you in our rooms. Please stay out of trouble."

I don't know what to say to that, so I don't reply. I let the silence settle over us again, still as thick and tense as before. With nothing more for it, I swallow the last dregs of my stew, gazed lowered in embarrassment. Ken watches Ezio go though, longing in his eyes and the same frown on his lips.

There's a decision to be made here. For him that is and it's a hard one. One weighed with the future development of what their relationship will go from here. And sadly, the options aren't endless this time. There are only two choices left for Ken and, when he sighs, I know he's taking the long brooding choice. Rather than go talk with Ezio and face it all, Ken will hide. He'll bottle it all away, the hurt and longing, and wait with a smile on his face until Ezio turns his way again.

"You're an idiot," I tell him, as I stand. My back cracks all the way up, sitting hunched over a horse for so long will do that to you. Ignoring the twinges of sore muscles, I stretch, loving the way my shoulders crack as I do. "Just tell him already, Ken. Before you both become miserable."

"Tell him what?" Leonardo asks, even though there already is a knowing glint in his eyes. He stands after me, leaving his half-empty bowl behind.

"Nothing," Ken yelps out, shooting to his feet. He doesn't give me the chance to say anything else as he wraps a hand around my mouth and begins to haul me Ezio. "There's absolutely nothing to be said, right Jen."

'Of course, not,' I mumble behind his hand, words dripping with sarcasm even though they can't be heard. I roll my eyes for good measure and let Ken drag me off. Leonardo follows us with a small laugh, amusement still shining brightly in his eyes. Meeting his eyes, I laugh behind Ken's hand all the way to our rooms.

We've booked two, both with two small beds apiece. Our rooms turn out to be sparsely decorated. The only other furniture in the room is the chests that sit at the foot of each bed and the one lone end table that holds the candles that light rooms. The bed themselves are lumpy and in no way comfortable, but I sit throw myself on them gratefully.

"Finally," I mumble as I bury myself under the scratchy blanket. The room is in no means cold but, to used to sleeping under the weight of a blanket, I can't sleep without one. So, I wrap myself up in them without bothering to remove anything but my boots.

"You'll be uncomfortable if you fall asleep in all that," Ken warns as he sits on the bed and begins to remove the many layers of his outfits. The dark green doublet is the first to go, followed closely by his boots and leather belt. Left only in his loose shirts and pants, he looks my way. "Seriously, Jen, you'll overheat if you sleep like that."

"I don't want to go to sleep," I whisper, for as true as they are, the words sound childish even to my own ears. Slowly, I crawl out from under the blanket. It pools around me as I do, sliding easily off of me as I turn to look at Ken. "I don't wanna see the flames again, Ken."

"Will you finally tell me what she did?" he asks, words cautious even though he really wants to know. He watches me, gaze careful as I heave out a huge sigh and throw myself back onto the bed. Despite my not wanting to, my eyes slip close on their own. Exhaustion dragging my lids close before I can fight it.

"I'll…I'll tell you all when we get home," I promise him, sleep already pulling at the edges of my mind as I suddenly realize how tired I truly am. "I want to tell you all at the same time, so I won't have to relive it more than once."

Even as I say the words, I can already see the fire building in the distance, can smell the smoke ad it wafts into the air as cities burn and people screams. As the world falls, only to rise again.

~oOo~

Alexander Hernandez:

The streets are empty when he pulls himself out of the hay cart. Despite that the sun still sits high in the sky, there's no one in sight. The city is quiet, empty so that the soft crinkling of hay as the next body lands in the cart is louder than it should be.

"Something is wrong."

His voice echoes around the empty streets, bouncing off mud-brick walls and back to him. He takes in the empty city with calculating eyes, searching for any sight of its inhabitants as the hay crinkles yet again when his companion jumps out of it with all the grace of the Assassin he is.

"It would seem so."

He turns to him then, locking eyes with one cloudy gray and the other deep brown and just as calculating. Mario's gaze is as hard as his when they move, walking away from the cart and out into the city proper.

It's as abandoned as they fear, no soul in sight even when they pass by empty market stalls still and ready for the day's sales. With nothing more to do, they make their way up. Up a long, winding dirt road that climbs the steep hill, and up further still to the Fortress that looms over them. That sits, dark and sinister, on top of the hill and casts its shadow over the city. Towering in all it's menacing glory over it's seemingly abandoned city.

"What is the year?" Mario asks, voice low despite the city's emptiness. Assassin's are masters of concealing themselves, of remaining hidden until they wished to be found. So Mario doesn't see the city as empty or abandoned. Just staged, set to look like it's been vacated for reasons he can only guess at. After all, only once in history has this city been abandoned.

"1191."

Only once, had it's Assassin's fled, never to return again.

The great city of Masyaf has only ever been abandoned once.

And to see it so empty now draws something like dread into their veins. So much can change with just the flick of the wrist. Histories can be and have been written with no more prompting than twisting the wrong blade of grass, and yet, here more than grass has been disturbed.

Here, a girl from an alternate reality has played to her heart's content, shifting and shaping a new, dangerous reality where nothing is certain. Where no one can be sure what will happen next even as the Codex Pages shift to tell the new tales that have emerged. Even as they warn of the new dangers to face, this history is as uncertain as it is new.

Dangerous and dark.

"Do you hear that?"

He pauses, dragging Mario to a halt with him once they near the entrance to the Fortress. Quiet murmurs filter out to them, carried out by a soft breeze that muffles the words but does nothing to hide the unease in them.

"What in the world are they all doing in there?" Mario wonders, edging close enough to peer in through the gate. The courtyard is full, brimming with the city's missing civilians. It's a wonder they all fit, carefully pack in as the guards stand along the walls, watching and waiting.

For what? He doesn't know and doesn't get the chance to ask as a guard turns their way, easily spotting them standing at the Fortress' entrance. Suddenly, more guards spot them as the first one points them out, making their presence known to all of them.

"You there," the closest one calls attention on them but not moving from his post by the gates. No one moves towards them, actually. They all just continue to stand at their posts, keeping a close watch on them but in no hurry to detain them. "Hurry inside, The Master is about to speak."

He nudges Mario forward then, ushers him through the gate even though Mario seems fit to plant his feet into the soil right then and there. The unease that floats around the civilians settles quickly on them, making them wary even as they move inside.

"This won't be good."

Mario agrees with a nod and pursed lips as they settle towards the back of the crowd. The unease is almost palpable in the air, heady and disturbing as they watch the crowd slowly turn towards the dais when an old man takes a stand before them. But it's not just any old man.

"Al Mualim," Mario mutters, one eye twinkling an old shade of gold as his frown deepens. The gold doesn't last long, it's gone in seconds, eye returning back to its deep, brown hue so quickly Alexander would have thought nothing of it if not for Mario's next word. "He is red."

It doesn't come as a surprise, not really anyways. It's expected, so much so that he begins to wonder just when Al Mualim took on the red hue. Just when did he betray them all. When did he turn his back on them all, twisting and using their blind faith in him to suit his own ill needs?

When did he join the Templars?

"Will you be red to them?" Alexander asks then, curious. It hasn't occurred to them before to wonder this. Mario is an Assassin, one of the Italian Brotherhood, sure, but an Assassin none the less. But if Al Mualim is already the enemy to him, will Mario be the enemy to them?

To the Brotherhood he has so wholly misled.

"I do not think so," Mario whispers back, considering the possibility only briefly before his eye glints again. The golden hue lasts slightly longer this time as he sweeps his gaze over the courtyard, taking in all the soldiers lining its walls. "They are all blue to me, only Al Mualim shines red. A wolf hidden within a flock of sheep."

Alexander makes no comment on that. Calling highly skilled Assassin's a flock of sheep is just too far out of his depth to make any comment on. So, instead, he turns his attention back to Al Mualim now that he's sure they won't suddenly be picked out of the crowd as outsiders, or worse, as spies.

Which is exactly what they are doing now if he's being honest.

As Al Mualim takes the dais, two guards drag a limp body between them. They stop to the left of Al Mualim, holding the body aloft as the person—a man—they're holding can't stand on his own. No with only one leg, after all.

"Abbas."

The quiet mutter flits through the crowd as more than one person recognizes their disgraced brethren. As Abbas is identified, the unease increases even more, but the muttering never grows in volume. It doesn't become shouts or demands to know just what Al Mualim plans for him. The crowd simply murmurs, waiting to see what Al Mualim will do.

His decision is law, after all.

"My dear children," Al Mualim begins, his voice easily reaching them even from so far away. The murmurs fall silent before the words have even left his mouth. Eager to see what decision he has made, they quiet down instantly. "It has come to my attention that, despite our best efforts to remain true to ourselves, we have lost our way. Our ideals have slipped away from us and, in my ignorance, I have allowed hatred to fester and grow in our community and for that, I must apologize.

"Long have I known that the seeds of discourse have been sowed among us but I have willfully turned a blind to them, hoping that the unity of our Brotherhood would settle them before they could develop into what they have," Al Mualim says, ignoring the muttering that starts up again. "I am afraid I must admit that I was wrong. Where I hoped our bonds would hold strong and keep us united, they have broken, dividing us and, in turn, dividing our Brotherhood.

"Our unity as a Brotherhood is only as strong as our weakest bond, and if this is our weakest bond then I am afraid we are not as strong as I had assumed," Al Mualim tells the crowd as he waves a hand towards Abbas. "Two orphaned children, raised as my own, under my tutelage and care. Raised together, as brothers from such a young age, and yet, one has deliberately hungered for the blood of the other. Has hunted him and hurt him and his kin. If I have failed here, in the simplest of moments, I am worried of where else my failures lie.

"And, for this, I must find a solution," he says as he waves a figure forward. They're covered head to toe in white robes, hiding their identity as an equally white cloth wraps around their face, hiding their identity from the crowd as they step forward, carrying something big and gold in their arms. It's a case. A fancy golden, oval-shaped one with pointed edges and silver trim. "No matter the method or consequence, I swear to you all, I will unite us once again."

One that holds something as dangerous as it is evil.

The Apple of Eden.

"We should get out of here," Alexander warns then, already stepping back and away from the crowd. Mario doesn't reply to him though, doesn't seem to get the danger of the situation as Al Mualim opens the gold case. "Mario, we need to leave. Now."

But Mario doesn't budge, doesn't move an inch as the lid is lifted off the case, revealing a soft golden glow. Slowly, almost reverently, Al Mualim reaches into the case, hand carefully closing around that soft golden glow.

"Well shit."

There's no running now. Not when the glow, once soft and low, suddenly explodes out, spreading over the courtyard. It covers everyone and everything, settling thick and heavy over them. Everyone goes limp instantly. Backs going ramrod straight and hands dangling at their sides, everyone turns to the apple suddenly, raggedly, like dolls forced to line up and stand at attention.

All except him.

It's with no small amount of panic that Alexander watches it all unfold. As everyone—even Mario—falls in line under Al Mualim's gaze, he's not sure if he panics more because it doesn't happen to him or that it happens to Mario. But he's always been a quick thinker, you have to be in his line of work as a private investigator well versed in the act of blending into a crowd. So, with nothing for it and even less he can do, he lets himself go limp.

He relaxes his stance and lets his arms dangle at his side as he turns to face Al Mualim in time with Mario. Rather than stick out like a sore thumb or even leave Mario to his fate, he stills, relaxes, and watches as Al Mualim lets his gaze roam over them, something dark but no less satisfied in his gaze as he watches them all fall in line to do his bidding.

"Even if I have to steal the will of everyone to do it," Al Mualim says, voice loud, louder than it had been now that he's in the presence of absolute silence. He spends some time just watching them, calculating something Alexander can only guess at. "But now is not the time."

With those last words, Al Mualim lets them go. Just as suddenly as the glow swallowed them, it releases them. The glow shrinks back in on itself, receding as Al Mualim places the Apple of Eden back in its case and seals it away.

"So I ask that you all give me your patience and understanding as I work to on uniting us all again," Al Mualim says once everyone comes back tot themselves. As they shake off the last of the Apple's grip the mutters start up again like they never stopped, everyone continues bitten off sentences and something like a chill crawls up of Alexander's spine.

"As for dear Abbas," Al Mualim continues, bringing their attention to the man who is still in the grasp of the guards. "I will send him off to our Persian Brothers to heal, both physically, mentally, and emotionally. Maybe by surrounding himself in our origins, he might one day be able to join us again."

With that Al Mualim gives the order for the guards to take Abbas away. Rather than taking him back into the Fortress, though, more guards join them as they move off the dais and toward the gates. It's an escort, Alexander realizes as he takes in the packs over their shoulders, one that's going to take Abbas directly to Iran.

They're all dismissed then. As the crowd follows after Abbas, sending him off with well wishes, Al Mualim ends his speech with one last promise to unite the brotherhood. Not that Alexander lingers long enough to actually hear what else Al Mualim says.

Once the intent of dismissal is clear, he all but hauls Mario away. Alexander doesn't exactly run from the fortress, but it's a close thing. With one fist securely curled in Mario's coat, he drags him out the gate and down the hill before Abbas' escorts can even exit the fortress themselves.

"Alexander, my friend, what is wrong?" Mario asks, gaze confused even as he lets Alexander drag him. He doesn't put up any resistance, not even when Alexander starts them down a dark alley. "What has you so spooked?"

"The Apple, Mario," Alexander curses, letting Mario go once he's sure they're far away enough to avoid drawing anyone's attention. Not that he let them stop in the alley. Once he's sure Mario will follow, he leads them further down the alley, fully intending to take the back streets back to the swirls. "He used the damn Apple on you, on everyone."

"What?" Mario asks, confusion still in his gaze and even bleeding into his voice now was he matches Alexander's quick strides down the alley. His eye goes to the roof instantly, yearning to take to the roofs for a quicker escape. Not that they can actually use them. For all of Alexander's expertise and skills in combat and espionage, climbing is just not one of them. "When?"

"Just now," Alexander says, his own confusion growing as he slows, giving Mario a curious look. Pulling to as top at the base of the building that holds the swirl, he turns fully towards Mario as he says, "In the courtyard. Didn't you notice?"

"No…No, I did not."