yes, I have returned! just as there are millions of me in games you must suffer through my reappearance even now!

Somehow, the moment I put up the first chapter, my mind went blank as to what I had intended to do next with this. otherwise this probably would have been here... last week or something, but I am lazy. And running around as shay trying to unlock all the cheats and blowing up other ships is far too entertaining for me.

Anyway, now that I have done this, I'll probably feel better about writing the rest. character introductions are the worst and I had to do two in this one (I made the last one just not be there this time to put it off...). honestly the only reason I didn't give the main oc a family is because I did NOT want to have to come up with any more characters, along with deciding the chemistry they would have with Nasira. After all, I've not written much for entertainment and I'd like to practice something without too much stress or complicated plot.

onwards to the introductions!

Why did it have to be him? Of all the people in this fortress she could have met that day, why did it have to be this man? For standing in front of Nasira was only the most terrifying man to have ever walked this earth. At least, that's what she thought of him. Most people would likely just call him the mentor of the assassins.

Her brain was completely frozen. What was she supposed to do now? He had said something to her, hadn't he? She had been in the middle of answering when she had seen his face and all thought had left her. He was just standing there, more like looming… looking at her with his unnaturally hued eyes. She assumed that is, Nasira couldn't even bring herself to glance up at his face a second time. His all too near face. Though he must have been a couple of feet away, even being in the same room as he was too much for her.

'wait… what did he say to me again? Boxes! He said something about boxes!'

Finally, Nasira's wits returned to her just enough to recall his offer of help. That could have been a disaster, she had almost agreed. Stuttering out the politest refusal she could manage in her poor mental state, the young woman swiftly made her escape towards the kitchen.

Once again, as she began sorting the laundry into proper cupboards, she was forced to consider this fear. This near phobia of Altair was something that any who knew of had called irrational, as he had never done anything that had negatively affected her that she could think of. Many of his actions were actually quite beneficial to her way of life in recent years. In truth, seeing him in the hallway had been her very first direct interaction with the mentor.

She had seen him in action once before, four years ago, when Masyaf had been invaded and Al Maulim had been taken hostage. Perhaps that was when the fear had truly begun to set in. Hiding between a few bushes, she'd had a clear view of one of the scuffles as he singlehandedly took down seven men on his way to the fortress, without taking a single blow himself. No human should be able to move in such ways. Nasira had heard many of the other servants refer to the sparring matches between the higher ranked fighters as though they were a dance. Personally, she had never been able to understand this. Dancing was supposed to be pleasing and beautiful. Not a horrific bloodbath of weapons and flailing limbs, as one man falls to the other's superior skills.

Of course, his ability in battle wasn't the only reason for her seemingly unfounded fear. Al Maulim had held an artifact so powerful that he had taken control over the minds and bodies of an entire village filled with warriors. Not to mention, even being an older man, he was still quite skilled in combat himself. Yet Altair had somehow overcome any hold over his mind and killed the previous mentor. How could a single man take on such a threat and succeed? Now, of course, Altair was in possession of the artifact, meaning at any point he could use it himself.

Clearly, he was a demon in disguise. Or perhaps he was some sort of demigod… Nasira had just finished sweeping the various dirt that had collected on the floor when this occurred to her. Despite his overwhelmingly frightening image, she began to imagine just what he might oversee, were Altair truly a demigod. War, certainly, but there were always multiple facets to their reign. Maybe it would be something impressive, like Eagles. Many called him the eagle of Masyaf after all. But Nasira preferred to imagine it would be something exceptionally specific, such as half melted ice, or neglected blades

Thoughts of possible domains in mind, Nasira began her trek through the service entrance on the side of the castle, past the two guards on duty, and down the steep hill towards her small home near the center of town. It wasn't a grand dwelling by any means, but it suited her needs just fine. All she ever did there was sleep and make dinner anyway. She hardly even ate at home most days.

As usual, today she would be bringing dinner to Kaaf and his sister's home to share. Neither of the two had much patience for cooking and she liked the company it provided. Unfortunately, it barred her from eating quite as broadly as she would have liked. Kaaf was such a picky eater. No spicy food, he only liked long grain rice, nothing with chickpeas. The list went on for what seemed like eternity.

Later that evening

Kaaf kept a tidy home, it always seemed to have been freshly cleaned. It was larger than her own house, though not by much. Stepping inside, bearing the usual pot holding the main dish, and knowing that Zaina would have prepared the side of rice, she always insisted on at least doing that much, since Nasira brought them dinner so often. There was never a need to exchange pleasantries upon her arrival, she would simply let herself in and go about preparing the table for dinner. Most days, Kaaf and his sister would barely noticed her arrival until she would announce that the meal was ready.

Calling out to gather the other two into the room, she set the pot of already prepared rice onto the table next to the main dish. Odd, the rice was much colder today than normal, she must have made it early that evening. As Kaaf shuffled into the room his smile seemed rather hesitant and flustered, not his usual jovial grin. Telltale signs of what was to come. However, he only did this when they were alone, was his sister not here?

"It is good to see you Nasira. Zaina requested that I inform you, she has other plans and will not be joining us for dinner this evening." Another sign, the formal way of speaking that he only used when he was nervous. There was only one thing that would make Kaaf nervous around Nasira after all the years they had known each other. "wait, wait, before we eat, let me light few candles. I would like the atmosphere to be more-"

'Just how many times do I have to refuse for him to understand?'

Trying her best, but not quite succeeding, to hold back the exasperated sigh and keep the irritation from her tone, she cut off his attempts, hoping to divert the course of this night before he could go ay farther. "Kaaf, you have asked me hundreds, likely thousands, of times by now. My answer remains the same. Please, just let us enjoy this meal." The prolonged silence that followed her proclamation was near painful. It was not her intention to hurt the poor man, but he had to understand, she was perfectly fine on her own.

Aside from Zaina, Kaaf was her closest friend, yet after her father had passed on, his responsible ways had gotten the best of him. Had he ever truly wanted this for himself, Nasira might have considered his proposals more carefully. However, she knew it was nothing more than his own desire to be a good friend, both to her and her father, that had distorted his feelings into what he though was more than friendship. How could it be anything else? Not once before her father had passed had he shown any sign of something more than just friendly affection towards her.

For, in these many years, Kaaf had taken every chance he could to ask for her hand in marriage. Sometimes he would make a big deal out of it, trying to be romantic like tonight, others, he would casually ask her as they were enjoying tea and light conversation. This incessant repetition was nothing short of infuriating to Nasira.

Probably his worst proposal had been when she was preparing to move out of their house, when she could finally afford to live on her own. He had said something so offensive, to all women and their ability to look after themselves, that she dared not repeat it even to herself. Of course, in the very next moment, he had registered what he had said. He had apologized to her every time he saw her for three whole weeks. It wasn't until she had told him that his apologies were making her more angry than his comment that he'd stopped.

Once they had finished their meal, neither having said a word since the obvious rejection, Nasira determined that it might be better to just go home and rest. Most nights she would have stayed to socialize for an hour or two, but the atmosphere had remained oddly strained. It was unusual for him not to pick himself up after a rejection. The last time he had said anything about it he had been back to his gleeful ways almost immediately. Perhaps she had been too harsh…

"good night Kaaf, When Ziana gets home tell her I said hello." Just after she opened the door she turned back, knowing that she couldn't just walk out and leave him with this awkwardness hanging over them. "and… I'm sorry if I was too harsh earlier."

Having made her apology, she hurriedly stepped through the door, closing it behind her. While she hadn't wanted to be so cold, having another of those apologetic "let's fix this" conversations, was not how she wanted to spend her night. Talking about feelings was nothing short of cumbersome for her. If only there were some way to instantaneously transfer the emotional intent behind her actions into the other's mind without needing to have a drawn out talk about them. It was so easy to misunderstand when having those conversations.

Now that she was outside, she wanted nothing more than to go home, take a bath, and fall asleep. Tomorrow would be much the same as any other day, wake up early, make the steep walk up the hill, prepare breakfast and lunch for the assassins, then journey home, before fixing dinner for Zaina and Kaaf once again. It was all very routine and that was how she liked it. Today's events in the hallway had been more exciting than anything she could recall in the past five months.

It was not until she had stepped out of the bath that it occurred to her: she had left her cookware at Kaaf's house. Not that it mattered, she could pick it up the next evening, but she was generally so organized. Forgetting the pot only proved to her how frustrated she had been.

Just before dozing off she went through her plan for tomorrow once more. After work she needed to go to the market, then back again to her house to start preparing dinner. She had recently lost one of her dresses to a dreadful tear that even Zaina was unable to mend. Maybe she would buy one with some color this time, most of her clothing was quite bland, grays, browns, or dark blues mainly. Planning out just what style she would want, trying to distract herself from any guilt over having hurt kaaf, she drifted off at last.