Guys, I can explain... I know, I know! What a terrible person I am with yet a somewhat other filler chapter? If I had not taken such a large gap and published every week as originally planned I would have honestly been finished by Halloween next month and maybe even contemplating a possible sequel idea I had (but that's a topic for another day).

Still, I have finally finished editing this chapter and completed it (although I feel it could have been better but whatever)
Please enjoy this chapter!

They waited out in the courtyards. Basilio finally staying quiet long enough for Tazim to hear himself think. As though he needed to do much thinking in the first place. They had been given their orders so now what were they waiting for? The young man let his eyes wander to the vast emptiness of the silent courtyard before hearing footsteps not too far behind him.

The Assassin, Zamir. He kept his chin up high as he took slow steps, nearing the other end of the courtyard. Basilio had turned his head, motioning to Tazim, "I must speak to Zamir now. I will not be long."

"Should I not come as well?"

"No-," he paused, thinking over his options, "No, I will just be a moment."

He had taken far less than just a moment. Speaking in hushed voices, Tazim could only observe from afar. The elder Assassin rested his hand on the youngers' shoulder, his lips barely moving as he spoke. He sent a glance in Tazim's direction before turning his gaze just as quickly.

Tazim may have even mistaken them as family, a father and son or an uncle and his nephew if it weren't for their differing appearances. The younger man's own skin was soft and lighter, sandy much like his short and mussed hair. Zamir himself had far darker features, roughened even more by time.

Basilio did not seem entirely content or perhaps convinced of what his superior had been telling him. A sour face was not something he easily or purposely hid. After exchanging a few more words, Basilio nodded his head and met Tazim once more.

With a sigh, the younger spoke, "He calls for you."

Tazim should not have felt concerned yet he could not rid himself of the feeling. Like an unscratchable itch within his very core. He neared the Assassin with a nod of his head, the older man greeting him with a warm smile.

"Tazim."

"Assassin."

Zamir chuckled. He grasped Tazim's shoulder in congratulations and patted it happily. He felt like a child with this man's hands on him. Zamir must do such thing often as he felt comfortable to do so. It almost made Tazim wonder whether the Assassin had been a father. "You have made it, brother. Just as I am leaving, off to new lands as it seems. I wished to have guided you but things do not always go as planned, if ever. Basilio will look after you."

So he had been given his orders. Abbas had quite terrible timing. The only other person whom Tazim had met would be leaving just as he had arrived. The more favored person he had met, if he was being truthful. And Zamir would be leaving him under the care of a novice only to make matters even more unfortunate.

"I can take care of myself just fine," the young man remarked.

With a light chuckle, Zamir answered calmly, "He is not so terrible as you may think. And I believe you can take care of yourself, but there is still much for you to learn."

Yes, he was right about that, but Tazim had trained himself all his life. What could this boy, hardly any older than himself, teach at all? He might have been in the Order longer than him, but Tazim was still not very content. He was being bullheaded and he knew it. It was frustrating in its own way. But there was little he could do and the young man must take whatever help given to him.

Tazim took this time to move his bag aside, motioning to the sword he uncovered, "You'd given me a blade but... I had thought to bring a weapon for myself." He untied and brought the sword up for the Assassin to examine.

Zamir gladly took it from the boys' hands. Inspecting it closely, the Assassin tilted his head, his brows knitting together. Each groove and curve became familiar. Most familiar was the weight to the sword. The designs, its age-

"No-," he strains a faint smile, followed by a dry chuckle escaping his throat, "No, Basilio will see to it that you are given proper weapons when needed."

The younger man accepted his sword once again, looking down at it as though it were defective before shaking his head in disapproval, "You put much trust and hope toward him."

Basilio was just a boy. One who didn't know when to keep his mouth shut in Tazim's own opinion. Whether he would make a good Assassin, the young man had yet to make up his mind on that factor. Still, Zamir held the other boy in quite high regard.

"As I've done the same to you," the Assassin replied truthfully, taking Tazim by the shoulder once again and giving a light squeeze before letting go. He had little time to prepare for his departure and wished only the very best for his new recruit. What few words he could say, Zamir hoped the young man would take them into consideration, "Today you close the door to your past and embark on the journey into your future, young one."

"Will we meet again?" Tazim dared to ask, unsure if he ever would see the Assassin while in Masyaf. The same Assassin who had led him there.

All Zamir did was smirk, as though that gesture alone answered his question. He took a single step away, pulling up his cowl before finally speaking with one final nod of his head, "As always, safety and peace, brother."

He was led away by Basilio shortly after, not amused in the least at the situation they were both now in. With an abrupt tour through the grounds as they ventured toward Basilio's own quarters, Tazim was able to relax his mind even if just for a few moments with their shared silence. There were few other men roaming, strolling and either soundlessly watching the two or ignoring them altogether.

At last, they would reach the youngers' chambers. Having gone through the cold halls of the castle and such a long journey from home, Tazim was looking forward to a bed of any kind as long as he had a place to rest.

"For now," Basilio spoke with a smile as they entered his bedroom, "my home is yours as well."

Tazim wasn't sure what he was expecting but he was dazed nonetheless. A modest sized room, kept clean and in order with what few items the younger had. With an empty desk near the far wall, a chest at the end of his bed, Tazim was impressed with the extra space in the bedroom no matter how cramped it truly was.

"I'll have a chest brought up where you will keep your things, clothes, personal items. You will need a bedroll for the time being." Basilio continued as he set his own belongings down in one corner, stretching his arms upward. He sighed tiredly, leaning against the cool stone wall and lazily turned his attention to the other boy.

Tazim could only nod his head and bite his tongue to suppress the stale yawn aching to be released. "And my sword?" he finally asked, setting his things on the neatly kept bed. His bag easily dropped down just as Tazim himself sat with his sword resting across his thighs, thankful at last for a moment to rest.

Basilio sighed and pushed himself from the wall, over to the other boy. The faint grin on his lips being ever so present, he took the sword from Tazim and examined it with one hand by the light coming in through his window, "Tsk, it's old... keep it in the chest. You will be given a new one."

He nodded, taking his sword again once more and sheathing it. Tazim began to gather his things, ready to put them away for the time being when he asked his next question, "And training?"

It was the reason for his departure from Jerusalem, after all. To become an Assassin in rank as well as in heritage. It was the very reason Zamir had recruited him, had it not? Although, it wouldn't be his most favored option to be trained by Basilio, Tazim could certainly come to terms with it above all else.

The younger man shrugged and gave a light shake of his head, observing Tazim. How tragic the fact that the words which would leave his mouth spoke only truth. Basilio forced a hint of hatred behind his voice, "There is little training. No discipline to urge us to train. All you must do is your job once it is given to you and not complain."

"Collecting taxes. Making deals." Tazim remarked audaciously.

"That is right," Basilio warned, his eyes becoming dark, "If you know what's best for you, you will keep quiet and go on with your duties."

Tazim kept from rolling his eyes, his tone was enough to tease the younger man, "You seem afraid of the Master."

His words more than annoyed Basilio who scoffed, took a step closer to Tazim and spat out his dismay, "I do not fear death. Now watch your tongue. Not all men here are as kind here as you may assume. Take caution."

"Noted."

Basilio turned once more, pacing and running a hand through his tangled hair. He seemed to be thinking over his plan for the remainder of the day as he suddenly brought his thumb up to his mouth, chewing on the tip of his nail and half mumbling to himself. At last, he must have come to a conclusion as the younger man sped to the trunk by his bed. Kneeling, roughly searching the trunk and acquiring an aged pair of robes.

"Now change your clothing." Basilio instructed coarsely, "Take these robes for now, Novice . We will acquire a change for you soon, " he tossed him the robes which he could spare for the time being.

Tazim nodded, catching the clothing in his arms and began to undress, "What will I do today?"

Basilio shrugged, lost in what he could make Tazim do that day as well. There would be little to nothing for him until they properly assigned him a task at all. Basilio collected the discarded clothing as the other young man changed into his new robes, having at last come up with a plan. "I'll show you how things are done. You will be my shadow. First we toss these clothes. Then, we raid food from the kitchen," he spoke with a smile, "Only after that will your special tour will begin. You will meet those in the village."

With a delicate smirk on his own face, impossible to hide, Tazim agreed. Having collected his old clothes and neatly set aside his belongings, the young man followed Basilio out into the chilly halls.

So without really purposely attempting at making the chapters longer I somehow am still doing it...? I'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing. I have so so so many story ideas I want to write which is the reason I take so long in finishing any story tbh. Let's take a moment to thank music because it really is helpful with writing and helped me finally publish this chapter.

Any questions or comments please feel free to ask or drop me a line on Tumblr at mocosamedia (might even help me keep on my updating schedule). Have an awesome day/night!