The First Life: Solomon's Temple

30 reviews on the first chapter, with over 60 Favs and Follows. Sweet holy Hera you people are nothing short of amazing. And so much positive feedback, too. Even better.

Okay, the beauty of Assassin's Creed is that it has a fantastic plot that is easy to follow and is fun to play with. As such, we're hopping straight into canon with a happy smile on our faces. Before we do though: NO, Faris is not taking Altaїr's place in hunting down the Nine, nor is he HELPING Altaїr hunt down the Nine. Faris gets to have his own special plot.

HINT: Pagan gods

Disclaimer: I don't own PJO or AC

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Inspired by historical events and an over-active imagination, this work of fiction was designed, developed, and produced by a single-cultural team of one religious faith and belief, sexual orientation, and gender identity.

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"Wait! There must be another way. This one need not die."

Malik's words went unheeded as Altaїr ran up to the old man, shoved him to his knees, raised his arm and extended his Hidden Blade, and ended the elder's life in a spray of blood. Beneath his hood, Faris had the utmost displeased look on his face.

Tenant One: Stay your blade from the flesh of the innocent.

Status: Broken.

Faris had watched silently ever since Haras (Templar bastard that stole Faris' brand-new crossbow invention) invaded Masyaf and held the Mentor hostage, which prompted Altaїr and Faris to perform a rescue mission that involved the deaths of many Englishmen threatening civilian lives, forcing Abbas into submission and placing him into a position of power, and some drop assassinations from high places.

The whole ordeal had resulted in Altaїr and Faris being promoted to Master at the same time, with the 21-year-old younger brother setting a new record for youngest promotion to Master. That event prompted Abbas to say a few choice words to the brothers, which prompted Altaїr to spit at Sofian's boots and sneer. Faris had held his tongue, and let the events pass through him, but that was the day he noticed a change in his brother. And it wasn't a good change.

Arrogance had become a mainstay in Altaїr's life from that moment on, and Faris hated himself for not doing something about it. But what could he do? He couldn't just walk up to his brother and kick his ass back into line, or give him a stern talk-down/lecture, and he wasn't about to go behind Altaїr's back and go to Al Mualim.

No, Faris was not pleased with the direction in life his brother had taken, and the only thing he could do was pray that when the Lord came to set Altaїr straight again, He would do so gently.

"An excellent kill. Fortune favors your blade," Kadar Al-Sayf praised his wayward idol.

"Not fortune, skill. Watch a while longer and you may learn something."

"Indeed. He'll teach you how to disrespect everything the Master's taught us," Malik spoke with clear contempt.

"And how would you have done it?" Altaїr snapped.

"I would not have drawn attention to us. I would not have taken the life of an innocent. What I would have done is follow the Creed."

"Nothing is true, everything is permitted. Understand these words. It matters not how we complete our task, only that it's done."

Malik opened his mouth to argue further, but Faris stepped forward. "Enough. Both of you. We are here for a purpose, and it does not involve quarreling amongst ourselves over the tenants of the Creed."

Altaїr smirked, believing his little brother to be on his side. "Listen to Faris and you may just gain a sliver of wisdom. Now, I'll scout ahead for further threats."

With that, the Master Assassin disappeared down the corridors.

Malik scoffed. "How you can put up with such an arrogant man, I do not know. Kadar, if I ever begin to act like that, please, have the spine to correct me-"

"Thank you, Malik. Your opinion on this subject has been noted and filed away." Faris may have shared the lower Assassin's opinion about Altaїr, but that did not mean that the Master was so willing to let others speak it aloud. Call it Protective Brother Syndrome. Faris also did not appreciate the barb Malik at aimed at him for being 'spineless.'

Sensing tension, Kadar sought to diffuse it with a change in subject. "What is our mission? My brother would not tell me, only that I should be honored to have been invited."

"Al Mualim believes the Templars have discovered something under the temple mount."

"Treasure?"

"I do not know. What matters is that the Master considers it important enough to send both my brother and I at the same time to retrieve it."

That wasn't even arrogance. It was a well-known fact in the Brotherhood that Altaїr and Faris were the best the Order had to offer, with the two seemingly invisible in the sparsest crowd, and unstoppable warriors on the battlefield, should the need arise. And when they were together…Heaven help whoever they were being sent after, because the Angel of Death favored the Brothers of None more than any Assassin.

So, for both to be sent on the same mission was cause for great concern.

"Come. Let us hope my brother hasn't done something foolish," Faris said dryly.

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Well, the Eagle had killed a man dressed in red and white armed with a sword, but whether that broke a tenant of the Creed was up for debate. Malik seemed to think so, but Faris, being the loyal younger brother, was willing to give Altaїr the benefit of the doubt. Kadar was more focused on the glowing box above.

"Is that…the Ark…of the Covenant…?"

"Don't be silly," Altaїr scolded. "There's no such thing. It's only a story."

Faris grit his teeth. Had his brother truly become so arrogant as to disregard all of the teachings of the faith their Order was built upon?

As if Lucifer himself was pulling the strings of fate, several Templar soldiers, all of them wearing tunics, chain mail armor, and red helmets entered, being led by Assassin Enemy Number 1: Robert de Sable. The Grand Master of the Knights Templar was a very tall man, and a very well-built one, his body packed with muscle from years of training and battle, and he had an intellect to match.

"Robert de Sable. His life his mine," Altaїr intoned.

"No," Malik said. "Our orders were to retrieve the treasure and deal with Robert only if necessary."

"He stands between us and it; I would say it's necessary."

"Discretion, Altaїr! You've already broken two tenants of our Creed. Now you would break the third. Do not compromise the Brotherhood!"

Altaїr's anger spiked. "I am your superior, in both title and ability," he said coldly, "you should know better than to question me."

Running out of options, Malik turned to Faris, desperately seeking aid in his endeavor to do things silently, quickly, and stealthily…and without needless bloodshed. Malik feared for the life of his own younger brother in this mission, due to Altaїr's blatant disregard for subtlety, and Kadar's own inexperience with such missions. Altaїr saw where Malik's eyes turned, and the Master Assassin was quick to speak.

"Besides, with Faris and I here, victory over Robert, and completion of our mission are guaranteed. Now come, we have work to do."

While Faris did not argue, as he himself was confident in the combined skill of he and his brother, he could not shake the feeling that this was wrong. They were here for the treasure, not the life of the Templar Grand Master. Was Robert's life convenient? Undoubtedly. But as Faris' gaze lingered upon the golden Ark, he still couldn't shake the feeling that…this was wrong.

Still though, Faris joined his brother on the ground, an uneasy Kadar and a nervous Malik next to him.

'Please do not be stupid. Please do not be stupid. Please do not be stupid,' Faris mentally chanted.

"Hold Templars. You are not the only ones with business here."

'Please do not be stupid. Please do not be stupid. Please do not be stupid.'

Robert and his allies turned to face the Assassins. "Ah! Well, this explains my missing man. And what is it that you want?"

'Please do not be stupid.'

"Blood."

'God damn it!'

His one word answer verbally relayed, Altaїr charged forward, Malik futilely trying to stop him. For a reason Faris could not explain, he froze up. His body simply refused to respond to his commands (he also failed to see the Ark glowing softly above). As such, Altaїr's attack was halted by Robert, the man's superior strength holding the Assassin at bay.

"You know not the things in which you meddle, Assassin. I spare you only that you may return to your master and deliver a message. The Holy Land is lost to him and his. He should flee now while he has the chance. Stay, and all of you will die."

During Robert's monologue, Altaїr struggled fervently to free himself, or get his blade close enough to strike, but failed with each attempt. Finally at the end of the speech, Robert threw Altaїr from the room, making him smash through the scaffolding that helped keep the cave entrance from collapsing. The wooden supports now gone due to Altaїr's brief flight, the stone came down, blocking the way back in.

"Men, to arms! Kill the Assassins!"

The sound of clanging steel rang loud and true.

"NO!"

Altaїr was at the rocks in an instant, desperately trying to pry the stone from his way so as to join his little brother in combat. It was no use, he did not have the strength to move such heavy objects. Despair overwhelmed Altaїr, and he allowed tears to fall from his eyes at the thought of his brother dying due to his actions…

No. He could not afford to think such thoughts. What he had to do now was return to Masyaf, and await Faris' return. If his little brother was not back within the week, then Altaїr would move heaven and earth to raise an army and storm Jerusalem, if only for the sole purpose of discovering Faris' fate.

Now firm in mind and body and spirit, Altaїr climbed his way out of Solomon's Temple, and returned to his home.

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Faris' eye twitched when his brother was thrown into the adjacent chamber, and the ceiling came down. Now it was just him, Malik, and Kadar, vs Robert de Sable, and four of his personal guards, all of whom were powerful swordsmen in their own right, with Robert possibly being more than a match for Faris in a contest of the blade.

"Men, at arms! Kill the Assassins!"

Faris responded with his own orders. "Kadar, after the treasure. Malik, you and I have the Templars."

"We would not be in this situation if your brother had just-"

"I know. Thank you. Focus on the battle at hand, please."

While Kadar left the immediate battle and began to climb for the treasure, Faris and Malik had the extreme honor of engaging four Templars at once, seeing as how Robert seemed content to stay back and watch. The world around Faris faded away, and the only thing he became aware of was the two bucket-heads before him.

Moderately tall, muscled well enough, and they carried themselves with the gait of experienced swordsmen. Faris drew his own sword, the curved blade glinting in the torchlight. The Templars drew their own straight swords, and prepared for combat.

The one on the left struck first, but right off the start did he make a mistake. He overextended. Faris brought his blade down, holding the Templar in place, and then backhanded the man. The blow had enough power to send him to the ground. The other Templar moved in, but Faris managed to parry, his hand ringing from the strike. In the moment of respite, the Assassin whipped his crossbow from his back, and shot the first Templar in the throat.

Now, this is the part where Faris hated modern advancements in weaponry. In order to fire another bolt, he would need to use his other hand to pull an arrow from his quiver and notch it, all of which took time, and in a battle, time was not something one had a lot of. After this debacle was over, Faris was going to design a self-reloading mechanism, so help him God.

The second Templar recovered, and engaged Faris once more, only this time his form was tighter, his movements more precise. There were no openings to exploit, and no mistakes to capitalize on. So, they dueled, a deadly clash of steel that lesser men would have found to be impossible to follow.

Their hands numb from so many clashes, the two warriors deadlocked. Faris' hood his eyes from view, and the eyeholes of the Templar's helmet cast his own orbs into shadow. Taking a quick glance to the side, Faris saw Malik knock one Templar to the ground, then sidestep the other and stab him through the throat with his short sword. Then there was Kadar.

"Faris! I have it!"

That was the wrong thing to say as Robert suddenly remembered there was another Assassin. The bald man whipped around, narrowed his eyes, drew his sword, and then he hurled the blade.

SQUELCH

"KADAR!"

The Templar Malik knocked to the ground took that time to attack. He swung his sword, but the Assassin reacted in time to save his arm from being totally cleaved off, but so fast as to prevent total damage. The blade of his short sword blocked that of the Templar's before it could go through the bone, but that was it.

Blood soaked Malik's robes.

Also during the distraction, Faris struck down his own opponent, just as Robert retrieved his sword from Kadar's warm corpse. Malik screamed in anguish, more at the loss of his brother than the sword in his arm. Tearing himself free of the blade, Malik instantly dispatched the offending Templar, and made to charge Robert in blind fury.

Faris stopped the older Assassin. "Stop, Malik! You are no match for him in this state. Take the treasure and return to Masyaf. I'll deal with Robert."

The Assassin's words reached the older man, and the fury in Malik's eyes dimmed just a bit. "You had better make it back yourself," he said. Malik picked up the strange treasure, cradling it gently against his chest, its shape making it an awkward carry for the recently crippled man. With one last look at his fallen sibling, Malik disappeared into the bowels of Solomon's Temple.

"Brave of you, boy," Robert said evenly. "But futile in the end. After I am finished with you, Masyaf will know my wrath, and the treasure will be mine once more."

Faris did not respond, and instead began to pray.

'My Lord...be with me in this fight against my enemy. Guide my blade and my body. Grant me the knowledge needed to attain victory swiftly. If it be your will that this man falls today, please, accept him with open arms and a kind smile, and please absolve him of his sins. However, if it be your will that I fall today, please welcome me with all that I prayed for Robert. Amen.'

Robert struck first, and Faris rolled to the side. Popping up, he thrust out his blade, but the Templar parried with enough force to knock the Assassin's saber out of his hands, and then he kicked him in the chest, knocking Faris flat on his back.

The Son of None was back on his feet almost as soon as he went down. He pulled his own short sword out of the sheath on his belt, and he took a stance. Legs spread shoulder-width apart, and offset. Head inclined to where the beak of his hood shielded his identity. His left arm, holding his blade in icepick grip, was held under his right arm, the two limbs forming an 'X' shape.

Robert stalked forward with all the gait of a victorious lion. His face was set in stone, his eyes cold as the steel of his sword, his body taut and coiled for action, his cape billowing behind him, and his sword held tightly at his side. The Templar Grand Master made for quite the imposing sight, but Faris was not afraid.

His Lord was with him.

Robert swung his sword in a mighty downwards arc. Faris slid to the side, and the blade hammered against stone with a clang. The Assassin punched the Templar in the face. Robert grunted, and swung. Faris angled his short sword to where Robert's larger blade glanced off the side. Faris jabbed him in the face again.

This time, blood was drawn.

Robert wiped his jaw, and inspected his now-colored bracer. The Templar smirked. "Your Master has taught you well, boy. It has been many seasons since I last saw my own blood. You have my respect, Assassin…the only men that earn my respect are those that I will kill."

Faris said nothing, but the corners of his mouth slowly turned upwards into a calm smile.

Robert smiled as well, his teeth stained with the crimson fluid of life, but his smile was one of dark anticipation. The anticipation of a worthy challenge.

The Templar raised his sword parallel to the side of his face, then he began to rapidly step forward. He closed the distance between him and Faris within seconds, and he swung with both hands when he got close enough. The Assassin ducked, but Robert' backswing forced the man away before a blow could be struck.

Robert advanced on Faris, swinging his sword with deadly force and precision. Seeing no opening yet, the Assassin displayed his skills in coordination, agility, and stamina as he continued to backpedal and twist, avoiding each of Robert's strikes with expert ease.

Finally, Robert's own stamina gave out, and his next attack was sloppy. Faris immediately capitalized, blocking with his smaller blade, gripping the hilt of the Templar's sword, and kicking him in the gut with enough force to send the man stumbling back…without his sword. Faris dropped the blade, and it kissed the floor with a clang.

Faris approached the Templar, who was on a knee, supporting his weight with a hand on the Temple wall. The Assassin sheathed his short sword, but he was still on a hair-trigger for sudden movements. Robert looked up, saw the approaching Assassin, and he snarled.

The Grand Master stood tall, gaining a second wind.

Faris raised his fists in preparation for a battle of the fists, his missing ring fingers on prominent display. His opponent was a head taller than he was, and a great deal more physically inclined, but he was also tired from his furious sword assault. Where Robert was on his second wind, Faris was still on his first, and was showing no signs of fatigue.

The Templar advanced, and opened the brawl with a series of hard jabs against the metal plates on Faris' bracers, before finishing his combo with a knee to the gut. A knee that the Assassin caught, and slammed his elbow down upon, easily bruising the skin, and perhaps the bone beneath. Robert winced.

Faris' fist shot up from the Templar's leg, and into his lower jaw. De Sable's reflexes were better than would expect, because he grabbed the offending limb in his own powerful grasp, and gripped the front of Faris' robes. The Assassin let go of the leg he was holding, which was a mistake in hindsight seeing as de Sable now had both feet on the ground again.

In a display of extreme physical prowess, the Grand Master lifted Faris off the ground, and threw the man across the Temple floor. In most circumstances, the most damage to be done by this might've been a slight jarring, however, this was a rare circumstance, in which the way Robert launched Faris caused the Assassin to land…and hit his head.

Now, there wasn't anything extreme like loss of consciousness, amnesia, brain damage, or even a concussion of any major concern, but one could say that, to quote a modern phrase, Faris had his bell rung. And it rang loudly. In the daze, Faris felt like he was swimming through the sap of a tree, undergoing a sense of nausea and vertigo at the same time.

It was not pleasant.

However, like all things, the ringing came to an end, and just in time because Robert de Sable was looming over the Assassin, sword poised to deliver a beheading strike. Just as the blade came down, Faris rolled forward, narrowly avoiding death. In a motion too fluid to be real, mid-roll, the Son of None hurled a throwing knife at the Templar's face.

Once more, de Sable's reflexes proved to be exceptional, as the man leaned back with eyes wide in surprise. However, he was not fast enough to escape total injury, as the tiny blade just managed to carve a small little gash upon the blank, curved canvas of the Grand Master's cranium.

Robert grunted in pain as his skin was split, and blood spurted from the wound. He glared murder at the crouched Faris, before roaring so loud that small bits of debris fell from above. He charged forward, a limp in his gait, sword high and cape billowing as a warrior's below tore from his throat.

Faris rolled straight out, right to where his saber had been thrown away, and spun around in a flurry of white.

SQUELCH

Robert's scream died in his throat as he impaled himself upon the curved blade of the Master Assassin. Groaning, he stepped backward, dropping his sword and covering his wound with both arms. It was not a deep cut, and it had missed all vital organs. Robert would live, but that did not mean that he not in pain. Contrary, in addition to this cut in his abdomen, his jaw was sore and blood was leaking into his eye.

The bite of steel upon flesh was not a forgiving one.

Robert took a few steps back, before falling to his knees with a growl of defiance. "Well, boy? Finish it."

Faris sheathed his sword, and approached the Templar. Even on his knees, Robert still managed to look imposing, the blood leaking down his face only adding to his intimidating countenance. The Assassin splayed his hand, causing his Hidden Blade to extend with a SNIKT. He raised his arm, ready to pierce Robert's neck...but something stopped him.

Faris couldn't explain it; there was just this feeling that held him back from striking-from dealing the killing blow. Then Faris remembered his prayer.

The Assassin grabbed Robert de Sable by the throat, and brought them nearly face-to-face.

"Your life...is not mine to take."

Faris punched the Templar in the face, knocking him out. Just then, the Son of None heard the footsteps of several armored men rapidly approaching. When said men entered the chamber, all they found was their master unconscious on the ground, bleeding from the head and abdomen, and a dead Kadar Al-Sayf.

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Thus ends the first chapter of the First Life arc. Next chapter will be the Siege of Masyaf, or something similar, haven't made up my mind yet.

Now, you might've noticed something odd about the fight between Faris and Robert. As I wrote it, I made it intentional that there seemed to be several opportunities for our hero to end the villain, most noticeably when Faris punched Robert in the jaw. A simple hand-splay and the Hidden Blade is biting through the jugular.

Instant death.

However, the reason for this is revealed in the very last line of dialogue. I still intend for canon to happen; I still intend for Altaїr to hunt the Nine; I still intend for Altaїr to face Robert and kill him. Therefore, Faris did not kill de Sable. I also realize that many people will not be happy with this, so I will explain the other reason.

God.

Simple as that. Faris is a Christian, and practices the Christian faith (which will be really fun in coming chapters), and so he prays before every major event in his life for the Lord to guide him correctly. Here, God guided Faris to stay his hand from a killing blow for the entirety of the fight.

Don't like it? Tough. I'm a Christian myself, and I find this idea to be different, practical, and fitting for a story based on belief. So, please, respect my faith and a simple work of fiction with religious elements, and don't waste your time with a flame condemning me for being a religious fanatic.

Anyway, Fav, Follow, and Review please!