"Italics in speech marks represents the Arabian language."
::Parseltongue::
Chapter Two: Emotional Interlude
Malik bolted from the office to his private chambers, following the shrieks and screams that alerted him to danger and planted fear in his heart. He skidded to a halt, his fear turning to a quiet fury as he took in what was happening. Darim and Sef were facing each other, both red in the face, tears streaming from their eyes as they screamed at each other. Darim looked close to hitting Sef or storming off and to the side, hiding under the bed screaming in fear was Bashir. The little boy was terrified and Malik had to take a calming breath, closing his eyes for a moment so as not to say something he would regret.
"Silence." The tone of his voice gave all three boys pause. For a moment silence reigned before Bashir, overcome by fear began his shrieking sobs once more. Malik breathed steadily as he walked over to where his son hid. "Sit down." He said sternly to the two older boys. When it looked like they were going to argue he lowered his tone, fury seeping into his voice and the boys paled. "Sit." They fell to their bottoms, barely wincing as they hit the cold stone, they were too focused on watching Malik who was clearly furious. But Malik ignored them, turning to his boy and making himself smile reassuringly as those beautiful watery green orbs met his. "Hello sweet boy."
"Dada!" Bashir sobbed, small chubby hands reaching for Malik as tears streamed down his little face. "Dada, dada, dada!"
"I've got you, baby." Malik reassured gathering his son into his arms. "I've got you." Bashir clutched at Malik's robes and hid his face in Malik's neck, Malik felt wetness spread over his shoulder and felt his boy shake violently in tears. Kissing his son's brow, he turned to Altair's boys. "You will sit here, quietly. You will not move, you will not speak to each other, you will remain sitting until I return. Disobey and you will run one full circuit of this castle with Master Aali. Do I make myself clear?" The boys winced and nodded.
Malik strode to the bed chambers rocking Bashir on his hip. The little boy was too frightened to stop crying, Malik would have to wait for the boy to exhaust himself before he could be calmed. Quietly, Malik hummed a song, a small lullaby his mother had taught him and one he'd sung to Kadar on many a sleepless night. It was both a heart-breaking and yet comforting song, a reminder of what he had and what he'd lost, but even now the simple words and tune brought comfort to his heart and he hoped in time that Bashir would find comfort in the song as well.
An hour passed by, Bashir slowing his cries only to be startled by a loud sound and start up again, too distraught to realise that the screaming had stopped and would not continue. As he waited, quietly humming and muttering soothing words Malik kept an eye on Altair's boys. They had barely moved, other than to sit more comfortably. Darim also looked incredibly ashamed at his behaviour and Sef looked positively distraught. Malik sighed, knowing that he had a lot of emotional issues to unravel. Sef and Darim were not prone to fights, they were like two peas in a pod, bonded like few siblings were, they rarely fought. This argument must have stemmed from something severe, something that was important to the two boys and he suspected it had something to do with the broken bits of wood at Sef's feet.
Finally, Bashir stopped sobbing, rubbing his sore eyes and looking up at Malik with a sad expression that broke Malik's heart. "Dada."
"Yes son, I'm here." Malik reassured. A weak smile crossed Bashir's face and he cuddled closer to Malik's robe, exhaustion taking him over and hopefully calling him to the realm of dreams. Malik made to put Bashir down in his small crib, but Bashir immediately protested, his weak cries barely more than a few whimpers, he no longer had the strength to shriek and cry. Malik sighed and smiled softly, kissing his son's brow. "Alright baby boy. You can stay with me." His son made a soft sound as Malik left the bedroom and re-entered their living chambers where the two boys had waited patiently.
Darim and Sef watched as Malik entered. They watched, awed and surprised when Malik slowly lowered himself to sit cross-legged before the boys putting himself at the same height as them, a feat considering his only arm held an exhausted and hopefully sleeping little boy. "Now, I know you two boys well enough to know this behaviour is unusual. You are very mature and smart young boys, so I expect a reasonable explanation for this." The boys couldn't help but puff up at least a little at Malik's compliment. "Now since I can't listen to you both at the same time, I am going to ask you to speak one at a time and I will listen to both of you. However, I also expect you both to show each other the same respect, when Darim speaks you will be quiet Sef and when Sef speaks you will be quiet Darim, do you understand?"
"Yes, sir." Darim and Sef chimed together.
Malik nodded approvingly. "Darim you shall speak first and Sef you will speak afterwards." Sef huffed a little but said nothing.
"Sef broke the gift Daddy made for us." Darim said. "I came in to watch him climb upon a chair and reach a high-shelf where the gift sat, and he…" Darim was clearly upset as he paused there to take a small breath. "…he knocked it to the floor. He broke it!"
"Where is this gift?" Malik suspected he already knew and sure enough Sef pushed the wood towards him. Malik saw it wasn't shattered wood like he'd first suspected, instead the wood had merely broken at the weakest point but to his eyes he could see how easily it might be repaired by a master craftsman. The wood was formerly a sculpture of an eagle on a branch, the base, a simple block of polished wood had been broken off, taking a part of the branch and a part of the eagle's talon with it. Overall, the damage to the bird itself was minor, reconnecting the bird to the base would take skill but Malik knew of several craftsmen who would welcome the challenge.
Sef sobbed, fingers clenched into fists and resting upon his knees. "I didn't mean to break it, Master! I just wanted to hold something of Daddy's. I wanted…" The boy began to cry. "What if he doesn't come back?! What if Daddy dies like Mummy did?"
Almost instantly Sef was embraced by Darim, the older boy forgetting his own anger and disobeying Malik's order to stay seated to embrace his brother. Malik hid a fond smile, watching as Darim soothed his brother, the elder apologising for shouting at the younger and admitting he was afraid too. The boys sobbed together and Malik waited, knowing the boys needed this moment to reconcile and bond. He knew Sef in particular had taken their mother's death very hard. The boy was barely old enough to understand the concept of death, its permanence and impact on the living. The absence of his father only strengthened Sef's sense of loss. Darim was a fine boy, a perfect brother but he could not replace Altair or Maria.
"I am sorry. I was bad." Sef sobbed into Darim's shoulder.
"No." Darim stated firmly. "I shouldn't have shouted at you. I was wrong. I was angry and sad, but I should never have hurt you the way I did."
"Sorry, Master Malik." Sef stated turning bleary eyes to the adult in the room, clenching his brother's robe a lot like how Bashir had clenched Malik's robes not so long ago. "I will accept your punishment." Sef stated, the hitch in his breath the only indication that he feared the punishment.
"I will too." Darim stated firmly. "If anyone is to blame it is me. I lost my temper; it is my fault."
"There will be no punishment." Malik stated softly. "Come here boys. Sit with me." He encouraged, smiling as the boys wiped their eyes and cautiously sat closer. "Tell me young ones, do you think Altair would be angry at the broken statue or at the fact that his two boys were fighting?"
"He'd be mad at us for fighting." Darim admitted quietly.
"Your father loves you with all his heart, just as your mother does."
"But mummy isn't here!" Sef protested with a sob.
"Isn't she?" Malik asked. "Do you not carry memories of her? Did you not love her? As long as you remember her, as long as you carry memories and love for her in your heart she is never truly gone. Your mother may well be watching over us now and what do you think will sadden her most?"
"Us fighting." Sef answered in a quiet voice.
"And how do you think Bashir feels? He saw the two people he loves most fighting. The older boys who protect him were fighting and hurting each other with their words."
"He was frightened." Darim stated. "He was crying and we ignored him. I am sorry, Master Malik."
"It is not me you have to say sorry to. And Bashir is too young to realise this fight has passed. He has been hurt by seeing his two protectors fight. It will take some time for him to trust you again but I know you two are usually responsible and respectful so I am going to continue to trust you. We all get angry; it is talking through that anger instead of acting on it that makes us the better men. Now, I know this statue is broken, I understand that it is important to you but it can be fixed. I know many craftsmen who would gladly take on the challenge of repairing this. So, there was no need for anger. It can be fixed. Your brotherly bond cannot if you go too far or say the wrong thing. Any harsh word or action will be remembered and I for one would not see such a beautiful bond of brothers be destroyed by regretful words and actions."
"I am sorry Master Malik." Sef stated. "I'll do better."
Malik smiled fondly. "You are already doing better than most boys your age. You are choosing to listen and to apologise and that shows a lot of maturity. I am proud of you both." The compliment did exactly what Malik hoped it would do, it made both boys smile, the distress of the situation gradually passing as no one else screamed and shouted. "Besides, even we adults make such mistakes, but unlike you I know many who made too many mistakes and had to seek redemption."
The boy's side-eyed each other hoping for a story and Malik did not disappoint. "I think it is time I told you a story of one such fool, who became a hero." Even as upset as they were neither boy could hide their excitement as they settled closer to Malik, watery eyes wide with interest. "There was a young novice who was strong, smart and incredibly capable. He worked hard, too hard at times, choosing his duty over friendship and family. To almost all the Assassin Order he was a lone warrior, someone to fear and distrust. They feared him because of his strength and cunning, they distrusted him because to them he seemed not to care for others. His closest friends were two brothers, the youngest idolised this lonesome warrior, but the older brother was wary, frightened that his younger brother would be led astray by the lone warrior's arrogance." Darim glanced at Sef, a worried frown covering his face as he watched Sef avidly watch Malik.
"The three were usually a great team, but more often than not the lone warrior took control and claimed glory for the group's successes. And as this continued the older brother became more and more worried and angry at the lone warrior's arrogance. And one day the lone warrior proved the older brother's fears right. He charged into danger and when he was defeated and was forced to flee, the two brothers remained behind with the enemy. Only one brother made it home."
Sef and Darim gasped.
"The older brother, grieving at the loss of his brother became angry and full of hatred and he severed his friendship with the warrior. He sought vengeance but was denied by the Master of the Order, the warrior was too useful to kill and so the big brother was denied. And the big brother, injured by the enemy could no longer fight and fulfil his duties, so he was sent away, he became the Dai of Jerusalem, the once skilled warrior was tasked with allocating duties, recording missions and information and worst of all, paperwork." Malik made a suitably disgusted face and the two boys giggled.
"One day the great warrior made his worst mistake, a mistake which could have cost a lot of innocent lives and would have endangered the order. The Master of the Order punished the warrior, taking away his rank and declaring him a novice. He was given an important task, to reclaim his honour by performing great deeds on behalf of the Order. Three such tasks brought the warrior to Jerusalem where he was forced to face the Dai, the friend he betrayed and the elder brother who'd lost everything due to the warrior's arrogance. The brother was so full of hate and anger that he abandoned the morals he'd held in such high esteem, he did only what he had to, receiving the warrior's information with cool regard and disregarding the warrior's concerns."
Darim and Sef were rivetted, barely moving as the listened to Malik's tale. "You see, the warrior was on a journey of discovery. He was beginning to recognise his own arrogance, beginning to realise that he was wrong to be so prideful and most importantly, he was discovering that there was more dangerous than the enemy he was seeing." He smiled as he observed the boy's fascinated expressions. "Do you remember what Master Aali taught you?"
"Always keep your eyes on a swivel and your ears open, the enemy you see is not the one to fear." Darim stated.
"The wolf you see is not the one to fear." Sef input. "The one's you can't see are the ones who are the real danger."
Malik nodded approvingly at the recollection of their lessons. "The warrior discovered a conspiracy, one that spanned much of the known world. The Templar's who were eager to steal our free-will had agents everywhere and the warrior was beginning to discover that there were others involved, others not yet revealed to the warrior. And the warrior confided these suspicions, the confessions of the Templar's to the brother, the Dai. And over time the Dai began to suspect as well. He put aside his anger and began to listen to the people of Jerusalem. And over time the suspicion became a reality. There was someone else, a Templar pulling all the strings, one who was having the warrior kill his competition, the other Templar's. The evidence suggested we had a traitor in the Assassin Order." Darim and Sef gasped in shock. "And the brother watched this realisation change the warrior. The once arrogant man showed a version of himself that seemed strange and abnormal. The warrior had a heart and the brother began to realise that the man who stood before him was not the warrior who had killed his brother."
"He had changed so much?" Sef asked fascinated.
"He forgave his brother's killer?" Darim asked, unsure, eyeing Sef with worry as if imagining how he would deal with Sef's death.
"The man had changed so much the brother realised he could not blame the man for the death of his brother. The man had been changed, he had been humbled and had realised that his arrogance had placed so many people in danger. He pleaded with the brother for forgiveness and the brother did not give it because the man before him was not his brother's killer. And in forgiving the warrior, the brother forgave himself for in truth he blamed himself for his brother's death as much as he blamed the warrior. He realised the hate and grief had changed him into a person he did not like. He wanted his brother to be proud of him, he wanted his brother's memory to do good, not to inspire hatred. And the younger brother had loved the warrior, even at the end, so the older brother accepted what had happened and let go of the past to look to the future. He did not forget, but he wanted to use the memory of his younger brother to do better, to do something good."
Darim nodded, looking thoughtful and a little confused.
"Meanwhile, the warrior began to realise his family, his friends, the Assassin Order was in great danger and he began to realise that being the only one who knew placed a great responsibility on his shoulders, one he was not sure he was ready for." Malik confirmed. "He confided in the brother and the brother realised that this warrior needed his support, that the warrior was alone and facing a great and terrible enemy. So, the brother chose to follow the warrior once again, placing his faith in the warrior, praying that the warrior would save and protect the Order. And you know what?"
"What?!" The boys asked excited. Malik hushed the loud boys, lightly bouncing Bashir as the boy whined quietly into his robes. "Sorry." Sef said, embarrassed.
Malik chuckled. "The warrior saved the Order and he made the Order better. Thanks to him Masyaf became one of the safest places in the civilised world." Malik leaned forward smiling at the boys who now rested their elbows on their knees and their heads on their hands, watching Malik in fascination. "This warrior faced many an enemy in battle, he was a skilled warrior but he also opened his mind and learned. Each day he went out and faced Templar's. Each day could be his last day, but every time he went out, he discovered more about a traitor within our order and he knew he could not die until his family, the Order was safe."
"He protected his family?" Sef asked.
"Yes. Because we are all family." Malik reassured. "Your father is a lot like this warrior. Your father was a skilled Assassin, one of the greatest and he still is." He smiled at the boy's obvious pride in their father. "He too became very sure in his skill, to the point he became arrogant. But as he went into battle, facing death each day, he realised that he wanted to live, to better himself and others. He fought not to kill, but to return home to his family. So, you see boys, your father will always fight to come home to you, as long as there is breath in his body he will always come home."
Sef's eyes watered with desperate hope. "Daddy won't leave us?"
"As long as he breathes, he will always return home, young one." Malek reassured. "And it is important that we keep hope. That we remember him for all the good he does." Malik made sure that both boys were watching him, something he did not need to do since he had their rapt attention but he wanted to make sure they heard what he said next. "I understand this object means a great deal to you, and we will see if we can repair it. But no object can replace your father in your heart, the memories you keep are more important than the wood at your feet, my boys. Altair would not be angry at the broken object; he'd be saddened by your arguing. Would he want to see you fall apart like this?"
"He's be disappointed we fought over it." Darim admitted. "He'd be angry we valued the statue more than each other. Loyalty to family above all else."
Malik smiled as both boys nodded. "Now, Darim, pick up the statue and place it on the table, I will see who I can find to repair it. Sef, take Bashir from me so I can stand. We will have dinner and then you two will sit with a piece of parchment and quill and write down the three most important tenets of our creed. You will do it in your neatest writing until both sides of the parchment are covered. Then and only then will you be allowed to play."
The boys did not protest, they knew Malik's punishment was not as harsh as it could have been and that Malik was being quite lenient. Instead of punishment, he'd told them a fascinating story, and unbeknownst to them a true story about their father before assigning them lines. Malik just hoped the moral of the story would eventually be understood by the two boys, he hoped they realised that the story was about how the warrior was humbled and became a better man and how he overcame adversity to help better the order, his family. Darim seemed to understand but Sef was perhaps too young to understand the true morality of the story.
Bashir slept through dinner, the atmosphere a quiet companionship. The two older boys too lost in their thoughts to speak and Malik knew not to speak, he'd said his piece and now it was down to the boys to learn and remember the lesson Malik had taught. Often the most remembered lessons were those where children had to come to their own understanding, where they had to put thought and practice into their lesson. If Malik kept repeating the lesson, they may remember but never understand what he was teaching them, no, for Darim and Sef to fully learn the lesson they'd have to be left to their own thoughts and devices. Malik would be there to answer questions and guide but his active part of the lesson was over, it was down to the boys to remember and understand.
Still it was sometime in the evening as the boys were readying themselves for bed that Darim approached him. Bashir whined, still effected by the morning row and grumpy at the boys resulting in him stubbornly clinging to Malik's side for the whole day. The two elder boys had been saddened but they'd understood. Malik shushed his son, smiling warmly as Darim took a seat at the table before Malik. "Did Daddy hurt people too, like the warrior in the story?"
Malek sighed. "We all hurt people, Darim. Even when we don't mean to. You hurt Bashir with your row this morning, we assassin's hurt people when we hunt the Templars. We do not want to and nor do we intend to hurt people but no matter what we do, it can't be helped. We are human, Darim, we all make mistakes, what makes us good people is that we admit to those mistakes and we take the lessons from those mistakes and make ourselves better. Everyone makes mistakes, no Master has a perfect record, my child, but every Master is alive today because they used those lessons to improve themselves to make themselves a better person. Your father is a smart, caring, kind man and a skilled, cunning warrior because he has taken those lessons life has given him and made himself a better person. And I have no doubt you and your brother will follow his example and become great Masters and leaders of the Assassin Order. You are both intelligent, open-minded and skilled, you make your father proud every-day."
"Is my father a good man?"
"He is." Malik confirmed. "Now, you've all had a stressful day. It is time for bed. You can ask more questions tomorrow."
"Goodnight, Master Malik." Darim stated in a thoughtful tone as he left the room quietly.