The Lost Memory

by The-Storm-Unleashed

This story is in the process of following the story of all major video games and some comics: After seeing the strange writings on the walls and floors of Abstergo, Desmond returns to the memories of Altair to see they have been tampered with to hide the existence of another Piece of Eden. Desmond returns to these memories to find the lost artifact and the person who wields it.

5. The Dancer and The Assassin

The Dancer and The Assassin

Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad

The words fall heavy in my throat as I try to put them to paper. He will never forgive me for letting this happen. He will surely have my life for this. I regret agreeing to such a folly plan, and I regret leaving her back there to die for my fight…

"Malik," the quill scratches onto the paper. "I regret to inform you that the woman…" I scratch out 'the woman' in hatred. How dare I call her that after her sacrifice? "…that Azalea has perished on our journey due to my rash and impulsive decisions. It falls heavy on my heart to write you this and would not put such speculations to paper; but five days have passed since our parting and she has yet to return to me. My deepest condolences, for you knew her better than I. For your satisfaction, and her memory, I will continue my journey in her honor and the Creed's expectations. Safety and peace. Altair." As I sign my name the realization that she is dead and Malik learning of her demise from a letter fall hard on me. This is not how it should have ended.

I arrived to the gates of Acre her horse fell to the ground in exhaustion from a three-day ride with no rest, feed, or water. I paid coin on shelter and food for the horse, which I would never do for any other creature. As the days passed and Azalea's arrival never came, I began to come to the realization that she would never come. Since then, I made point to keep her horse in her memory. The beast galloped longer and harder than any horse I've known simply because his master commanded it of him. Such obedience deserved the best accommodations.

I enter a pigeon coup and I roll the letter that I have been dreading sending to Malik. Tying the word of Azalea's demise to the bird's foot proves harder than I had imagined. Though I had no relationship with the woman, Malik did. Though the extent of their relation was unknown to me, it was clear enough that word of her death would not be well received. After being the cause of Kadar's death, the idea that I brought death once more to a loved one of Malik's weighs heavy on my heart. My hands shake with the realization that this is the dying of my final hope that she will return and I will not have to send word to Malik of her demise. I take the bird and release it into the sky; watching woefully as it carries my words to him.

I take to the streets for my investigation. I listen to the simple talks, quarrels, and business of the people of Acre. I listen closely for conversation that holds the name William of Montferrat. The streets are buzzing with news of William and his plans to overtake King Richard and his land for his son Conrad and that William does not always have the best relationship with King Richard. Soon, I gather enough information to end my investigation and the life of William of Montferrat. I return to the Rafiq and tell him of my progress. He listens carefully to all I have to say. With a few dramatic nods of the head, he gives me leave to go, placing the white feather onto the table.

I take the feather and move towards my target. As I near the fortress where William stays, a commotion spills onto the streets and people gather as King Richard rides into the streets of Acre. He speaks with William, yelling and scolding him for deceiving his people and him. William seems obviously distressed with Richard's accusations, more so because they are being brought to light before all of Acre to see. Eventually, King Richard rides off, leaving a furious William to vent in his quarters, where I have chosen to strike. The man is filled with rage and irrational in this moment, and it is the perfect moment to strike.

I blend in with the crowd to enter the thresholds of the fortress, then find a group of scholars that owe me a favor, blending with them to pass the guards at the entrance, entering William's fortress with ease. When I'm inside, I break away from the scholars and move to the rooftops where I have decided to take the rage filled man. I am wary of archers that guard the roofs because many citizens said that William has an excess of archers. However, when I reach the top of the roof, I see in my line of sight that three archers have been killed. I go and examine the bodies to see that they have all been stabbed.

I examine the bodies and see that they were killed at close range, with what looks like little to no struggle. I have heard that William of Montferrat has been known to kill his own men when his temper grows out of hand. I smile to myself knowing that the man allowed his killer to enter his walls and killed the only men who stand to protect his life. I decide to stay to the rooftops and continue watching below from the vantage point I have. I walk above an opening to an enclosed room where William yells insignificant orders at his men to keep them from his sight. William's temper is taking over his vision and he is becoming more unaware of his surroundings. I watch from above as he sends every man that can stand a threat to me away. With all his guards gone, he sits down at his table to look at his letters. As he seats himself and finds himself comfortable in the peace of the moment, I make my descend on my victim. I fly down onto him as an eagle to its prey. I thrust my hidden blade out and pierce his throat. Blood gushes out of his neck as he tries to struggle, but I hold him down and have him linger a bit longer to explain his actions and finally speak truth of what he and his like want.

He asks me what I believe his plans to be and when I mention his son Conrad he laughs, telling me that his son is not fit to be a leader. He did not want to take the lands for himself or for his son but rather give the lands to their people. His words make no sense in comparison to the motives the master bestowed upon me. I implore him before he falls, questioning if he were to give the lands back to their people then why instill fear and death upon them, but before I can ask more of him, he is taken by his God.

I brush the feather to his neck angrily and lift myself off of the Templar. I leave William's body and move out of his fortress. Upon my leave, I see what looks like a fight had broken out between William's men. Less than a dozen men lay dead in the courtyard. I look at the positioning of the bodies and the wounds they received and come to the conclusion that these men turned on each other; but why? Could some men have been against William and his ideals while others supported him, which ruptured into a fight? Regardless of what happened here, I have an easy pass through the front gates.

Leaving William without being spotted proved little challenge with the help of his inner circle turning on itself. I travel back to the Bureau undetected by any guards, and when I reach the rooftop, ready to jump down I hear word that an assassin killed Acre's regent, William of Montferrat. The Rafiq commends me upon my arrival for William's demise. He gives me leave to journey to Masyaf and bring word to Al Mualim of his demise. I bow my head to the Rafiq and leave the Bureau.

I blend with a group of scholars as I leave the city's walls. I make my way to the stables and take Azalea's black beauty by his reins. The horse is well rested and fed and in much better condition than he was upon our arrival here. I look into his dark eyes and see myself in them. I did not think these creatures more than just my transportation, but he has proven to be more than that. I mount the steed and ride towards the all too familiar road to Masyaf. The horse is quick as I command him to a fast gallop. He has been resting for three days and is now ready to trek the seven-day trip to Masyaf.

More than half a day's trip passes by, and the horse grows tired. Instead of dismounting the horse at the nearest stables to find a replacement, I dismount the horse, hold onto its reins, and walk next to him, so that his stride slows and the weight of carrying me is gone. The horse seems to understand what I'm doing and rubs his head against my shoulder as if to thank me for understanding his needs. I smile at the beast, not realizing until now just how majestic these animals can be.

We make camp not too long after. I start a fire while the horse lies down. I cook the rice Azalea brought from the merchants on our way to Acre. I think of what my mission would have been like, had she been there. I think of how nasty I would have acted towards her. I imagine the quarrels we would have had and the resentment I would have felt towards her for being by my side. The idea stings and I detest myself for allowing death to fall upon another loved one of Malik's. I am disappointed in myself for being so impatient that I had to continue the journey without her. How arrogant I was starting a fight with the Templars before scanning the area for more. I reflect back on all my childish actions that led to the death of an innocent. Again, I have broken a tenant of my Creed.

The sun rises for a new day. I awaken to see my head resting on the body of the horse. I rise up and the horse is quick to follow, ready for today's journey. We are quick to return on the road and ride on towards Masyaf. There are not many Templars on this road, not until the area where they ambushed me. Therefore, we are free to continue forward in a fast gallop until the road becomes more dangerous.

Hours pass and the sun begins to fall again. We make camp farther away from the main road than before because this road is more dangerous with thugs and thieves, waiting to steal the coin of innocent travelers. It is not long until I am asleep, again resting my head on the back of the horse.

Again, we awaken, and again we are on the road, galloping as fast as the horse can stride. The horse seems content with how I ride him and how often we stop. I try to be a master to him as Azalea was, making sure he is comfortable, and well looked after. Soon, I slow our stride as we come into Templar territory, the same territory where the fight erupted. I look around, seeing the mountains and structures, looking for where the fight began. I begin to smell what I have grown to know as the stench of burning flesh. I look down at our path I see the stain of blood on the road. A large stain, spread across the road and the meadows. I look around and see a fire pit, burning the dead bodies that made the blood stain. There are two farmers watching the bodies burn. I dismount the horse and walk him towards the two men.

"I'm sorry, Friend, but you should continue on your path." One says trying to keep me away from the burning bodies.

"Did you bring these men to their burials?" I ask.

"Yes, we found this bloody massacre on our way to the market. We thought it best to dispose of the bodies before young travelers witnessed its horror."

"Did you find the body of a woman in here?" I ask, hoping to get conformation of her death. The two men hesitate to speak and I grow impatient. "Was there a woman here? A young woman no only than thirty. Hair black as jet with a clock covering her face?" I demand.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but the bodies were so distorted that it was hard to tell." The younger farmer who had yet to speak says.

"If you're looking for your woman, Sir, she is probably gone from this world; my condolences." Says the older man, bowing his head to me.

Angrily, I turn from the two men and mount the horse. I gallop away from the stench of death. I look up and see a sign that points the direction to the cities that I want to go. The stone that holds the word "Damascus" points to the west. "Acre" points south, "Masyaf" points north, and "Jerusalem" points east. I look at the stone that reads "Jerusalem". The curves of the letters haunt me, as if they are drawing me in. I decide that my next action is not to inform Al Mualim of William's death, but to ride to Jerusalem and speak with Malik. He deserves to hear of Azalea's demise from me and not a letter. With that, I turn east and ride towards what I imagine, will not be a welcoming reunion.

Four days pass until I finally look upon the walls of Jerusalem, clean and more well-structured than those of Acre. I blend with some scholars and enter the city's gates undetected. I separate from the scholars and quickly shift through the crowds and alleys, wasting no time to reach the Assassin's Bureau. Upon reaching the ladder that leads to the Bureau entrance, I begin to feel sick. The thought of what Malik will say to me worries me. I can hear his voice in my head now, yelling at me for my recklessness. Nevertheless, I swallow my pride and climb up the ladder, to the roof, and jump down the entrance to the Bureau.

"Safety and peace, Malik." I say more unsure than pervious times I have greeted him this way.

"Safety and peace, Altair?" Malik questions, grasping a letter in a tight hold: my letter. "Safety and peace?" he questions again with anger in his tone. "How can you wish safety and peace upon me, Altair when all you bring to me is death and chaos?" he yells now furious.

"Malik, I—"

"Save your breath, Altair! Your excuses will not fall on naïve ears this time." Malik pulls out the letter and reads from it. "My deepest condolences, for you knew her better than I." He puts the letter down and looks at me. "What were you thinking, Altair?" He yells. "Your foolish actions have led to another death! Another soul in my life you have stripped from me. Have you no shame in the innocent lives you take?" I try to argue but he will not let another word come from my mouth. "For your satisfaction, and her memory, I will continue my journey in her honor and the Creed's expectations." He reads again. "Not only do you take her from this world but you spit on her memory as well. Did you never listen to her, and what she believes to be true? No, of course you haven't, else you'd know she cares little of the Creed and what your master asked of you!"

"It falls heavy on my heart to write you this, and would not put such speculations to paper, but five days have passed since our parting and she has yet to return to me." I hear a voice say from behind the curtain in the back. A hand pulls the curtain back, revealing who the voice came from, and before I can react, she says, "Really Altair, don't exaggerate the rumors of my demise until you've seen the body, cold and dead." She says with a smile on her face.

I am utterly stunned. I cannot move or speak because I look upon the eyes of a ghost. "H…how are you a…alive?" I finally manage."

"Skill, Altair." Azalea says, "Something you claim to have and yet have not proven so."

"There were far too many men for you to kill, unscathed." I say now noticing that she is without a scratch, with no scar or limp or physical deformity to show what she endured. No matter how great the skill, it is without possibility she was able to leave that fight unscathed. I watch as she and Malik exchange glances, she just barely shaking her head, telling him to keep whatever she did a secret from me. "No man can survive a fight such as that without harm." I say not lingering on the exchange of glances.

"Once again, you underestimate what is put before you." She says with a smile. "Killing the archers for you in William's fortress also proved to be little challenge, but very necessary because you failed to consider just how much of a threat they could have posed. Even more so of a threat were his men outside his quarters. Less than a dozen guards were waiting outside to kill you once you departed William's quarters with his blood on your hands. Had I not been there you would have easily died."

"Those men… they turned on their own." I say remembering how they were positioned.

"Yes, I moved them to appear as though they did so to not arouse suspicion." She says maliciously.

"Why are you not in Masyaf, Altair?" Malik asks, "You were successful in killing William of Montferrat. Why have you not crawled back to the master to lick his boot, as you so love to do?"

I look at Malik, and then the woman. My reasoning for coming here before Masyaf was to tell Malik of her demise in the flesh, rather than through paper. I wanted to grieve with my brother over the death of someone he held dear. However, now I feel my reasoning to be folly and futile with the outcome of the circumstances. I choose to lie about my intensions in order to maintain my pride in the situation and hide my concern for the woman's life. "I returned to show you, Malik, that I killed Montferrat on my own, without her help. It seems to me that I am in no need of assistance, so I wish to continue my assignments without her." I say prideful.

The woman cocks her head to the side in either amusement or confusion. "Altair," she says with a scoff, "Were the archers not dead upon your arrival? And what, might I ask, would you have done once you killed Montferrat and walked out of his study to see dozens of armed guards pointing their swords at you?"

"I would have fought them all as you did." I say quickly so she cannot continue her questions.

"You would have fought them all." She returns in amusement. "And when the guards had time to find Montferrat's body and sound the bells of his death, then how would you have planned on escaping that fortress with both guards on the inside and out looking for you?" She says with her hands on her hips.

"I am not your child to be scolded!" I yell finally finished with her tone towards me. "You may think that I need to learn how to work with others and assist my brothers, but you are no brother of mine. You are nothing but a woman, using what little skill you've conjured to convince men to turn against themselves. Helen of Troy you are; not a warrior. I will gladly allow any brother of my Creed to aid me in my missions and fight the battles I cannot. But I will not allow a woman to stand here and envision she harbors more skill than I."

I scarcely see the look in her eyes because her hood covers most of her face, but from what I can see, she is fuming at my tone; trying desperately to compose herself. She begins to move, slowly, shaking her hips as she walks as if she is taunting me with her stride. Malik and I watch her carefully as she makes her way towards me. She approaches slowly, building up her next move; and soon, she is within inches of me. I tower over her this close, realizing that she is smaller than I thought. I had not noticed how small she really is.

While I am distracted at her height, she takes the moment and with a quick movement that I do not foresee, she takes my arm and pulls it behind my back and bends it to the point of breaking. I fall to my knees and she bends down pressing her lips to my ear. "Don't you dare speak to me like a petty whore you can command around." She whispers.

I try to break free from her hold, a simple swing of my leg to knock her down and I will be free; simple trick we assassins learned in basic training. However, when I try this move, she holds her ground, as if knowing that I were to move in such a way. She takes her free hand and digs her fingers into my shoulder where the arrow pierced my skin on the King's Road. She opens of the wound that the Rafiq of Acre had stitched. I let out a grunt of pain.

"Enough, Azalea!" Malik yells in command. She halts her torture and looks upon the man with shock. I am more than surprised that he would stand up for me. I would have thought him to enjoy such pain bestowed upon me.

"Malik, he deserves—"

"Yes, he deserves much," Malik says stopping the woman from justifying her actions. "But if you continue this, he will return to Al Mualim in this state which will raise suspicion; questions that will lead to your existence."

The woman mulls over Malik's words, going through every scenario this situation can produce. "Do you not think it just that he loses the use of an arm as you did because of his actions?" She finally says pulling out a golden dagger from her waistband. I stare at the dagger with wonderment, at how a woman of her stature could be in possession of such a wonderous tool. I imagine the woman a thief and procured it from a wealthy patron of hers.

"What happened to me in that temple was Altair's fault," Malik agrees and I try to free myself from her hold but fail in her grip. "However, vain and reckless as he may be, he is my brother by oath, and had he been able to return to Kadar and me for assistance, he would." I look up at my brother. His willingness to forgive my actions that lead to the death of his brother by blood and the loss of his arm is something I have yet to understand from him. It is that humility that makes him stronger than I.

I cannot look back at the woman from the angle she has me, so I know not if Malik's words have done anything to her. But when her lips touch my ear again, I jump and wait to hear what she has to say. "It is your turn to listen to me. If you value any respect for the man who has spared your arm, you do as I say. Prove to him that you can complete your missions with me by your side. Prove to the man you failed to protect, that you can protect something of his. Now, is that understood?" She says spitefully.

"Yes." I let out watching Malik the entire time she speaks to me.

"Look onto him," she says pointing the end of her blade to Malik. "believe what you will with your Creed, the man that stands before you, is the one to aspire towards, not that cowardly master of yours." Malik gives her a pressed glance and without another word, she releases me from her grip and leaves the Bureau.

Anyone else convinced she knows Al Mualim more than she is giving off?

I've been searching her ancestry for how she might know him. So far, I can't find anything.

"Altair," Malik says with a sigh, "You will ride to Masyaf, and tell Al Mualim of your victory at William's fortress. If Azalea does not join you on the trail to Damascus then she will find you in the city." Malik comes to me, and examines my arm for any true damage she may have caused by twisting it so. I advise that my arm is fine, and a simple stretch will bring the arm back to its original order. Malik takes hold of my arm and stretches it gently. "I think it best that you do not trifle with her. Contrary to what you may believe, she is a skilled assassin, and she will not hesitate to kill those who oppose her. I believe it best that you do not oppose her."

I pull my arm from his grasp, "What is her relation with the Master? What is her relation with you?" I ask suspiciously.

Malik sighs, "She is dear to me, Altair. I see she is not keen to you, but I beg you receive her with open ears. She has foreseen much trial in her life being so young. I'd hope to see her struggle end if only for a moment."

I look onto my brother, ignorant of why he holds the woman so highly, but I have learned through the trials I have been tested recently, that I should hold Malik in a higher esteem. "If it is what you wish, I will give her my ears." Malik thanks me, and I leave the Bureau to Masyaf.

Three days into my ride to Masyaf pass quietly and uninterrupted by the unwelcoming presence of the woman. Upon leaving the Bureau, she took back her horse, leaving me to find another. I am far too angry and weary to continue her teachings, so I pick a new horse at every stop I take. I figure if I stay away from the Templar guards that wait on the trail ahead, then having a horse that does not care about my wellbeing will not matter.

At every turn I take, I expect the woman to surprise me with her irritable tone about everything I do wrong. However, as I come and go from every major entry point on the road to Masyaf, the woman never shows herself in any way. I make sure to be alert and watch for any place she might hide from above, observing my every move. Yet, every highpoint that she can watch over is vacant of her presence. Once I reach the gates of Masyaf, I realize that the woman is not going to make an appearance, so I leave my mind of her presence and focus on the task at hand. I reach Al Mualim's study and speak with my mentor of these men that I am to kill. Their motives become more puzzling as each man justifies their actions before death. Some men I slay compare their deeds to those of the Creed. Upon sharing this with the mentor, he scoffs, stating that these men are like snakes, spilling venom even at death. I wish to press my mentor further. The more riddles he feeds me, the more frustrated I become, but for now, I keep to myself. Before, I would press the master too far for information, but I am not to test my luck with him any longer than it has already been pressed.

I think about the woman and her knowledge of the Master. I consider approaching the Master with questions of the woman. I could end all my frustration with the woman and Malik by just telling the Master about her. For some reason, she and Malik do not want Al Mualim knowing about her. But what would happen if he did? How does the Master know about the woman, and what will he do if he knows she is alive and taken hold of Malik's ear? I decide to learn more regarding the woman and her role with Al Mualim before I let the secrets unravel.

I leave the Master's study with the task of killing Abu'l Nuqoud of Damascus. I ride forth to Damascus as quickly as my horse will take me. I stop at every point I need to obtain a new horse. The ride to Damascus takes me five days, rather than seven as it had with the woman.

As I arrive at the city's gates, I hear the shouts of merchants calling me in. I look around for the scholar that owed me a favor for saving his life, hoping that he will lead safe passage into the walls of Damascus. After my recent killings, the city guards have been more aware of the "assassin with the white hood". However, the scholar is nowhere to be seen, and my passage passed the guards becomes more difficult. I take the horse around to the stables where it can eat freely. As the horse eats, I look around for some safe way in. There are no crowds coming in and out, so blending is not an option.

I look back at the horse and see someone that I did not expect to join me: the woman's black horse. I walk over to the beast and caress its head. The horse seems to remember me because it pushes its head against my chest. I look around for the woman. Surely, she is near.

"Jabbar seems to have taken a liking to you." I turn to face the woman who appears from nowhere. She is lighter on her feet than I had thought.

Jabbar is an Arabic based name meaning "powerful". Just to let you all know.

"You named your beast?" I ask with disgust. This is a horse, not a child.

"Yes, the same beast that rode nonstop for three days to save you." she reminds me spitefully.

"Why are you not inside the city?" I ask adverting from her counter attack.

"I was waiting for you. What are you waiting for?"

"There are a group of scholars I like to blend with so the guards do not know of my presence here in the city. However, they are nowhere to be found."

The woman frowns, "where's the fun in that?" She turns from me and makes her way to the entrance. She swings her hips as she walks to the guards. I presume she is trying to distract them with her… "charms". Surprisingly the guards succumb to the temptation she holds and they are distracted. I take this time to slip my way in. I am about half way through the gates when one of the guards notices me.

"Is he with you?" He asks the woman.

She looks at me and lets a smile cross her face. A smile that tells me she has other plans. "No," she lets out with a fearful tone. I glare at her, hating her for what she is doing to me. "He's an assassin!" She yells and my heart races. I expected her to give me trouble with the guards, but to bring attention to my true identity and the Creed can compromise my mission.

The men are quick to react and charge at me with their swords. I run into the swarm of people in the city of Damascus. At first, I shove them out of my way; bashing them so I can gain speed. However, once I become out of sight, I blend into a crowd. Soon after I separate myself from the crowd, I sit down on a bench, keeping my head down from exposure and watch the guards run past me, wondering where I've disappeared to.

Once I determine that I am out of sight of the guards' pursuit I make way to the Bureau. Once I drop in, I say to the Bureau leader, "safety and peace, Rafiq."

"Upon you as well, Altair." He returns, "I heard of your entrance upon the city's gates. Subtlety has never been your strongest asset." The Rafiq jests.

"I did not intend on entering in such a fashion. Certain circumstances led to such an obvious entrance." I say between clenched teeth, thinking of Azalea's amusement at how everything panned out.

"Well no doubt your target will be aware of his timely death. Whose life has Al Mualim ordered you take now?"

"His name is Abu'l Nuqoud. What can you tell me of him?" I tell him.

"Ah, the merchant king of Damascus; richest man in the city. Quite exciting!" The young Rafiq returns with bewilderment. In addition, he continues at my command to speak information of this man and where I might find vital information for my search after bringing up my demise with the brotherhood. Once aware of where my search will begin, I thank and leave the Rafiq so I can quickly rid the world of this man and become one-step closer to understanding the truth of these men and their purpose in this world.

Once I am away from the Bureau, the woman shows her face. "So where do we begin our search?" She asks as she leans against a wall. I pass her and she pushes herself from the wall to follow.

I resent her for using words such as "we" and "our". This is my search and my mission. Had she not taken the ear of Malik, and had I not harmed him in such a way, I would have kept it that way. Rather than arguing with her I wordlessly lead her to the rich district where we will begin the search.

My methods seem displease the woman, for when I climb the largest tower in the rich district to find where to begin my search she scoffs at my tactics. "Why are you wasting your time climbing towers when you could be walking amongst the city's people for information?" She says watching me begin my ascent up the tower. She does not follow my lead and simply looks up at me.

"Climbing these towers helps me find my investigations. Looking upon the city at this height shows me everyone's actions." I say as I climb higher away from her. Soon, I am out of earshot from her, and stop looking back, wondering where she is. Once I reach the top of the tower, I look down at the city like an eagle. I watch every move every man and woman makes while they go about their business, unaware they are being watched. I find two men whispering in the shadows to each other and determine that their secret might prove helpful towards my investigation. I perform a leap of faith and make my way to the two men. Once they are in view, I sit on a nearby bench so not to raise suspicion and listen in on their conversation. They speak of the man I am to slay and of a large shipment that has arrived in the city. They begin to speak of Nuqoud's religion and its scriptures and I listen less. I think of the shipment they speak of. I look around and spot the woman in a crowd, listening in on the same two men I am. Once the men part from each other, I join her in the crowd.

"Their conversation was of no importance. Let's move on." I say as I walk through the streets with her.

"Of no importance?" she repeats. "Altair, did you even hear what they spoke of?"

"They simply spoke of a shipment that came, and his religion, but nothing that can help me defeat the man."

The woman scoffs. "This is why you walk the streets instead of wasting your time climbing towers. The shipment that has arrived is a vast shipment of wine; meaning that Abu'l is planning another extravagant party." I shrug seeing no importance in the matter. She sighs and continues, "Damascus is already in debt and many people starve while he throws parties, this makes him a loathed man in this city. If you were listening to what scripture the man quoted you would have known that the drinking of wine is against Nuqoud's religion. If he is capable of going against his God's will, imagine what else he is capable of."

I take time to absorb everything she heard, and how it could help my mission. "With the people hating him, the party would be the best place to strike. No one would defend the man like Talal's men did."

"Exactly," Azalea smiles.

"Very well, let's continue our investigation." I stop myself as she walks away from me, catching myself that I said 'our investigation' rather than 'my investigation'. I try not to think much of it because she most likely did not catch on to what I said.

As she walks away from me, I watch her move. She swings her hips and moves as a lioness stalking her prey. She seems to continuously be on the hunt; her shoulders perpetually tense as if she waits for someone to attack. I wonder about her. Where she is from, who her mother and father were, what led her to the life she lives; and above everything, how she knows the ways of my Creed. I wonder what her affiliation is with Al Mualim and where her resentment for the man begins. I question her relationship with Malik as well. I am aware of the way in which Malik looks upon her, taken by her presence. I wonder how long Malik has taken a liking for her and when and how he was first captivated by her.

She looks back at me and I look at her lips because they are the only part of her face not covered by her hood. They curve up slightly, "Azalea," I let out. "How do you know of the Assassin's Creed?" I ask and she stops her stride and her smile wipes from her lips.

Her body tenses and she grows cold. "That is nothing that should concern you." she says coldly and turns from me.

"How am I to call you partner if I know nothing of you?" I say throwing the silly notion of our partnership to her.

"Being your partner is just as pleasurable for me as it is you." She says bitterly turning away from me.

"Then why agree to it?" I ask her, following her closely.

"Because Malik asked it of me."

"And why would Malik wish you to do such a thing?" I finally ask, "Why would you be so willing to subject yourself to my presence?" I finally catch up to her and step before her, causing her to stop in her tracks. "Could it be because you're infatuated with him?" She peers up at me through the hood of her cloak. "It is clear that he holds you so highly." She swallows hard and before she can respond, she is interrupted.

"Abu'l Nuqoud is a gracious man!" The voice yells out to the crowd. Azalea and I make our way towards him. He continues to preach the wonders of Nuqoud and all his good deeds towards the city and its people.

Azalea listens carefully to the man's word as I watch her carefully. The whole matter has little sense to it. Why would Malik test my ability to ensure the safety of a partner in the field? Had this been his true concern—that I am unable to maintain the safety of my partner in mission—Malik would have had a brother of the Creed commit their time with me. Why bring Azalea into the matter? Why is her purpose more meaningful to Malik's cause than a brother? What does Malik wish to teach me with this? Or rather, how is he punishing me with her? I consider the notion that Malik is using the woman to gain intelligence against Al Mualim. Azalea's distain for Al Mualim, though unclear, is obvious. Since the death of Kadar, and Al Mualim's lack of reprimand for my actions in the Temple, I have noticed that Malik's devotion to the Master has wavered. Could Malik be using the woman to gather intelligence from my missions to practice against the Master?

Once the man has finished his speech on Nuqoud, Azalea and I follow him in hopes he leads us to somewhere private where we can extract information from him without the guards' influence. He leads us into a restricted area, where guards defend the entrance from civilians. I am quick to adapt and see beams over the guards that will easily support my weight. Azalea is ahead of me as I watch her kill an archer that waits parallel from the beams. She nods my way and I move up the building as she crosses the beams. We follow the man into an empty back passage where we strike. I jump down and grab the man's shoulder. When he is facing me, I punch him in the face. The man is quick to defend himself and fights back. He manages to hit me a few times, however, I am faster and stronger than he; and soon he gives up, throwing his hands in front of his face.

"Please, stop" he begs, "I will not die for that man." He says, revealing that Nuqoud is not the wonderful man that he so openly preaches of.

I press the man for more information regarding Nuqoud and he tells me the truth of the Merchant King. He tells me of the hatred the man has upon himself; the shame and despair he has in seeing himself. He also tells me that Nuqoud never leaves his chambers, making killing him more difficult. However, as I press more from the man, he advises during the celebrations Nuqoud looks down upon the crowd and speaks with his guests. The man quickly follows this information with a warning that when Nuqoud speaks with his guests, but only for a while, it proves to be a small window of opportunity. When the man is finished speaking with me, he asks me to let him go and I laugh with amusement. I know these snakes all too well. If I allow him to run free, he will be quick to tell Nuqoud of my plans, so the man has to die. I flick my wrist, releasing my blade, and thrust it in his stomach. I watch as the man falls, making sure he is dead before I leave his body for someone else to find once I am long gone.

As I walk from the body, I speak with Azalea. "Nuqoud must know he is despised by the public, else he wouldn't send snakes to spit venomous lies into the ears of the public. But to what end?"

"Why would Nuqoud want the people to think highly of him?" She asks me as if she already knows the answer.

"If the city saw him as a saint, maybe he could see himself in a better light?" I guess and the look on Azalea's face shows me that I'm wrong.

"His parties," She leads me, "The shipment of wine was larger than any he's ordered before. He wants the public to come into his home and drink with him."

"But why?" I ask, wanting her to tell me the secrets and intentions the man holds.

She shrugs her shoulders. "That I don't know."

"I guess time will tell." I say looking into the horizon, seeing the Merchant King's extravagant home.

"Come, we have more to investigate before we can safely attend his party." She says and we move on back to the main streets of Damascus.

Azalea and I move closer to the Merchant King's palace where we suspect more information about the man will present itself. I look around and see a brother of the Bureau hiding in a doorway. I signal Azalea to stand back while I speak with my brother and see if he holds any information about the man I am to slay.

"Altair, my brother, how are you?" he asks with a welcoming tone; something I have not received from my brethren since my rank was stripped of me. "Any news of Adha since she left?" he asks and I stay quiet. I cannot bring myself to think of the woman whom I once held so close to my heart. "No?" he says seeing my sudden change, "How sad. I'm sure you'll find her someday," He says hopefully and soon goes on about his business telling me of Templar guards that saw his face and are now after him. For fear of exile or death from the Creed, he asks me to slay the men for him in return for information on my target. I except the challenge and leave my friend.

I look at Azalea who stands at a nearby merchant's table. Without direct interaction, I tell her to wait where she stands for worry that my brother might watch my investigation and see her helping me bringing word back to Al Mualim. She nods understanding and I leave her to continue my mission alone. There are only three men that I am to slay, and I make sure that they are as subtle as I can perform. I cannot have the city's guard getting involved in this investigation. I find one standing next to a back-passage way and I am soon to strike, flicking my wrist, bringing my blade out and through his neck, and walk away before he falls to the ground. The next I find on a rooftop looking down on the people. He is the easiest to kill, far from other guards and witness to see. I send a throwing knife his way from another rooftop, and I am back on the road looking for my next target before he falls to the ground dead. The next walks the back streets of small Damascus homes. I thrust the blade in his throat before he can turn to see who follows him.

I return to my brother and tell him the deed is done. With excitement, he tells me his gratification of my help and informs me that a statue in the middle of Nuqoud's home is easily climbable and I should consider using it during my kill. I thank him for the information and we part ways. I meet back with Azalea in the same place and we make our way back to the Assassin's Bureau.

"So," she begins as we walk the busy streets of Damascus. "Who is Adha?" she asks.

I look at her with mild anger. I did not think she heard the conversation between my brother and I, and I resent him for bringing her up. "That is none of your concern and of no importance to our mission" I say coldly.

Surprisingly, she ends the conversation at that, knowing not to press me for more information regarding Adha. For the first time since the woman has been assigned to me, she understands the boundaries I place.

Once we reach the Bureau Azalea stops and I remember that she is not to enter in the Damascus Bureau. I look at her and see that she is still hesitant after my outburst. "I won't be long…" I begin.

She shakes her head. "I will see you at the Merchant King's palace tomorrow." She says distantly.

"Where will you stay?" I ask concerned.

"Do not worry about me. I will find somewhere to rest for the night. Simply focus on arriving tomorrow."

We both stand there in silence uneasily waiting for the other to say or do something to make the situation better. Therefore, I bow my head at her and climb up the ladder to the Bureau. I jump down and speak with the Rafiq. I tell him everything that I have learned about the Merchant King, and how I have planned to strike him down. The Rafiq seems impressed with my plan and gives me the feather and leave to go. I exit the office of the Bureau and rest on the pillows that beckon me for rest.

Once I lay my head down, I enter the lands of dreams. I see Adha for the first time since she was taken from me. I had tried before so hard to keep my mind from thinking of her. However, after my brother mentioned her, my mind is too weak to deny her presence. I dream of her capture, and how I so desperately tried to reach her, yet failed to save her. I see her body now, lifeless and gone, being torn apart by rats and dogs. It is a gruesome death for someone so beautiful.

I push the image from my mind and the realm of dreams scrambles for something to occupy my attention. Soon, I look upon Azalea's face; her entire face. Her face contorts in fear as I hold the Piece of Eden as if a weapon being used against her. I raise the Piece of Eden and throw her across the courtyard. She hits her head and blood drips from her. I thrust out my hidden blade and hold her up against a wall. I yell at her but cannot hear what I say. The blade presses against her neck, drawing a trickle of blood. Then with a swift thrust, the blade pierces her neck and she falls to my feet, cold and dead.

I lunge upwards at the terrible vision I have seen. Sweat rains from my body as I inhale deeply. I question why my dreams would paint such a horrid scene, and why my actions would be used to harm the woman. I wonder if this is an omen for what is to come. Will I use the artifact the Master has procured against Azalea, and if so, why?

I leave the Bureau and travel to the Merchant King's palace where the festivities lie. Because I did not receive an invitation I must sneak in, which proves easier than I had expected. Once inside, I look around for the woman. I try to find her black hood in the crowd of rich and extravagant velvet tunics that everyone wears.

As I scan the crowd, I notice that there are no women inside besides the dancers. I conclude that Azalea must be watching the festivities from above when a dancer comes over to me. She moves her hips in ways I cannot even imagine possible. I try to push her away, wanting to focus entirely on Nuqoud and my mission, but the dancer is persistent, gyrating next to me. I push the dancer away from me again and this time she turns to me, looking at me, and when I look upon her face, I then see that the dancer is Azalea. She does not wear her hood so for the first time I see her eyes and the rest of the top of her face. Her hair and thick eyebrows are as dark as her eyes. Looking into her eyes, seeing myself reflect in them, I begin to feel something twisting in my stomach. Though the feeling is not a romantic one, I feel as though she is darker than before, as if she is adversary exposed. She covers her lips by wearing a gold cloth around her mouth so that I again, do not see the entirety of her face, hiding her identity from me evermore.

"Do you realize how ridiculous you look in this outfit?" I say, scanning her up and down, noticing the lack of clothing it provides.

"Do you realize how conspicuous you look in your filthy robes." She returns in irritation. "This is a festivity for Damascus' most wealthy, do you want Abu'l to know you're the killer in the crowd?"

"What was I supposed to do? I have no extravagant robes."

"Kill or sedate someone and steal their clothing. Now Abu'l will have no doubt who is here to kill him." She looks at my sword. "You didn't even try to hide your weapons. Look around, Altair; there are no other men with weapons in here."

"Well then make yourself useful and conceal me from suspicion." I say, grabbing her hips and turning her away from me, forcing her to dance on me, concealing my weapons while I lay my hands on her waist as I see many men do to the other dancers.

She does not respond to my action and continues to dance on me. I clench my jaw tightly at the circumstances, trying to make the most of the uncomfortable situation.

I look up to the balcony where Abu'l Nuqoud shows himself to the partygoers. When I finally see the Merchant King in the flesh, I see exactly why the man shelters himself from the world. As I look up at him and his mannerisms, I can only think of him as being monstrous.

"Welcome, welcome!" he announces. All the dancers stop, including Azalea, and I find myself shrugging behind her to conceal myself from the Merchant King and his guards. "Thank you all for joining me this evening. Please, eat, drink. Enjoy all the pleasures I have to offer."

He brings the crowd's attention to a fountain in the middle of the courtyard that begins to spit out wine. I look at Azalea, mentally telling her that this was the shipment we heard about. Without hesitation, two men run to the fountain with empty gauntlets, filling their chalices with the blood red wine. More guests run to the fountain, filling their chalices with wine, drinking and commenting about the wonders of the Merchant King's festivities. Servants come out handing guests golden goblets, so that everyone has a taste of the wondrous wine.

"I trust everything is to your satisfaction?" He asks looking out to the crowd of happy guests. People raise their goblets at the King, roaring about his generosity. "Good, good" he beams, "It pleases me to see you all so happy. For these are dark days, my friends and we must enjoy this bounty while we still can."

A servant comes to me, handing me a golden chalice on a golden platter. Azalea looks at me, shaking her head in disapproval, but I take the chalice from the servant. Azalea watches me carefully. I dip the chalice in the fountain, but do not take a drink of the wine… Not yet.

"War threatens to consume us all." Nuqoud continues. "Salah Al'din bravely fights for what he believes in, and you are always there to support him without question. It is your generosity that allows his campaign to continue."

I hear something coming from upstairs. I look up to my right and see men running into positions: archers. I slightly tap Azalea on the hip, directing her attention to the archers above and she nods, already aware of their presence.

"So, I propose a toast, then," he continues, "To you, my dear friends—who have brought us to where we are today. May you be given everything you deserve for it." I begin to notice some spite in his voice.

"To your health," a guest yells from the sea of people in the crowd and everyone raises their chalices to the man.

"Such kindness," he says pressed. "I didn't think it in you. You—who have been so quick to judge me—and so cruelly." Sensing the change now in the King, the crowd plays ignorant to what he speaks of. "Oh, do not feign ignorance. Do you take me for a fool? That I have not heard the words you whisper behind my back? Well, I have, and I fear I can never forget. But this is not why I called you here tonight. No, I wish to speak more of this war—and your part in it."

I move my gaze from Nuqoud to the archers ahead. As he talks to the people below him about the war the archers begin to brace themselves for an attack on the partygoers. I begin to move away from the main courtyard. I grab Azalea by the elbow and pull her with me. I press her against the wall directly below the east archers. To the partygoers, I am a drunk man, taking advantage of a dancer, but I truly act as a shield when the archers rain their weapons on the crowd.

"—One that will bring about a New World—" I pick up on as I watch the Merchant King once more."—in which all people might live side by side in peace."

I watch as the archers take form, readying to open fire on the unsuspecting partygoers. I press my body against Azalea, so that she is as close to the wall as she can. I stand in front of her, acting as a human shield against the western archers as they can fire upon us if they see us. I look into Azalea's eyes with a pressed glare but she is calm, not worried about how this will pan out. She looks up at me and smiles, reassuring me that we will be alright.

"A pity none of you will live to see it." Nuqoud finished, and as he does, some of the guests begin to cough; some hold their stomachs, others cry in pain and regurgitate their food.

"Poison." I say and Azalea nods, knowing all along. That's why she did not want me taking the chalice, but I took it to not raise suspicion, always knowing in the back of my mind that I shouldn't take the wine.

Chaos breaks and men begin to fall to their knees dying from the poison. Once the secret of the wine's content is out the crowd begins to panic and the archers begin to rain arrows onto the guests after the command of Nuqoud.

I look at Azalea and see no fear in her eyes. Her courage drives me to go after Nuqoud. "Don't get yourself killed." I say to her, and leave her to scale the statue my brother told me of, Azalea is quick to follow.

"I'll take care of the archers, go find and kill Nuqoud!" She commands and I nod, trying not to hesitate and show the fear I have of her dying.

I run after the Merchant King, killing his personal guards with no problem. The Merchant King hears one of his men cry out as I impale his neck with my hidden blade. His eyes widen and he turns away from me to run. I am quick to catch up to the large man and I jump onto him, throwing him to the ground, impaling his throat. In his final seconds he tells me of a New World that he was to create with someone other than Salah Al'din as I had thought he was working with. He ominously tells me that I will soon meet the ones he works for, if I haven't already. And with that, he dies on the granite floor of his palace.

I return to the courtyard, expecting the chaos of before, but come to see that the courtyard has emptied to nothing but dead bodies and spilled chalices. I find Azalea, as she checks the bodies for survivors. "Azalea," I let out looking at all the dead archers, "how did you—"

"We should leave before the guards come." Azalea says before I can finish asking how she managed a task not even Al Mualim in his younger years could accomplish.

Azalea and I run from the palace from the back entrance so not to attract the guards' attention. We reach the Assassin's Bureau and Azalea waits outside as I leap down and tell the Rafiq of my success with the Merchant King's death.

"Yes, I heard of your success. Who, might I ask is 'the dancer'?"

"What?" I let out, taken aback by the Rafiq's question.

"The streets whisper of the Dancer and the Assassin that worked together to kill the great Merchant King of Damascus."