This short just hurts. So. Bad.


March 1986—April 1990, the Farm, Black Hills, South Dakota, United States of America

Altair was amazed how easily these people trusted. For all their talk of secrecy and to be wary of strangers, all you had to do was have a brand about your ring finger and they would accept you. Altair however did not have a brand, instead he said he was from another part of the Order where they took your finger instead. They believed him and welcomed him with open arms, even though he was not like them and they all could sense that he was far more than he let on.

He was given a room in one of the houses. It was not uncommon, for the houses were rather large and usually two families shared them, that or people like Altair who came from afar and were seeking respite for a few weeks, months, or even years, to get out from the ever watchful eyes of the Templars. There was another man here like Altair who'd been there for six months already, and without even looking through his second sight he knew he'd be killing this man. All members of the Order showed red in his sight, Assassin, Templar, it did not matter. They were all corrupt and in some ways the Assassins were no better than their enemy. But Altair would kill this man because he was a Templar. But that would come later.

The leader of the Farm was a Master, though it was in name only. Andrew Miles was a hard man who's purposes were more that of a bureau leader then a Master Assassin. Altair did not like him either, but he would not kill this man. Not yet. No. Not yet. But soon. Altair made acquaintance with him, but friends with his wife, who (unlike Andrew) had been born into this world. But she was not like her husband, she was not hard. But she wasn't soft either, and he could feel no love between Andrew and Kaley.

They had a son, Duncan, who was seven years old. Altair was interested in him and in turn the young novice was interested in him. He'd heard from Kaley, quite adamantly, that she wanted no more children, and Altair did not blame her. With the current atmosphere surrounding the Brotherhood very few of their members wanted children, because they'd have to grow up into this mess. The Order did not recruit from the outside as often as they should or once had, and there was such a new interest in bloodlines within the Order that it made Altair's skin crawl. He knew, though he didn't want to know, that the Order was starting to tip in the same direction as the Templars.

But Altair turned his normal outward attentions inward to the members of the Farm. He helped the instructors with demonstrations and even taught a few classes in both self defense and history. The novices loved when he taught history because it was never a history from a book, for even the Assassins had books on history, or even things that were spoken of often. Altair's history was that of the Order and it was the few times that the novices got to hear of their birth right beyond the adults telling them of the Templars to scare them, or an ever war that was spoken about in hushed tones. Adults weren't allowed in those lessons, and he made it into a game, that none of the children were allowed to tell the adults what he said. In this way he spoke what their parents would have considered blasphemy and traitorous words. He told them secrets and stories and history that had been lost to the world and the Order for centuries.

Duncan was an amazingly bright child, and was enrapt by Altair's history lessons. He visited Altair, when he did not have other school work or chores and asked Altair questions, promising he'd never tell his mommy or daddy. Altair would just smile and tell him.

It had been a long time since Altair had used an Apple, or any sort of scrying Piece of Eden. He did not trust them, he did not like them, and they were always more trouble then they were worth. But Altair had waited a long time for this century. His wait had been agonizing for four hundred years, for he was alone. But now it was not so. He had Hawk to scry now, though the younger man was not as good at it as Altair had been, for Hawk's Apple fought him every step of the way even though it was two-hundred years in his possession. At Altair's distance when he'd first seen the future that would mark his life with some sort of strange purpose, the future was not as consistent and so many things could change. He'd seen this point though, this place, the Farm. More recently Hawk had proclaimed from what family they would be from.

Miles.

So yes, Altair humored Duncan, and told him secrets and was safe in the sort of knowledge that Kaley did not want any more children, and that this boy was the one he'd been waiting for. Duncan followed him everywhere, and in turn showed him around the Farm and the woods surrounding it and the places he liked to hide. Altair saw him for the kind, curious, and clever boy he was and encouraged him to never stop asking questions, to never stop looking for the truth.

Then, three months after Altair arrived at the Farm Kaley Miles said she was pregnant again. Altair had not been expecting that. She was also unhappy. She resented Andrew for getting her pregnant again, and it was obvious that she was not pleased with the child she carried, but some sense of duty kept her from just getting it aborted. Or perhaps the talk it would cause amid the others if she did, the unspoken shame she would bring upon them all if she got rid of it. It was one of the few things that had surprised Altair in a long time.

Altair watched the Miles' dynamics for a long time, all the while Duncan clung to him, with his questions and his bright brown eyes. Kaley grew to deeply resent her husband, but in turn allowed Altair closer, as it was obvious her son adored him. Altair thought it strange that Kaley could detest her unborn child, yet seemed to still care for Duncan. That changed however and seven months into her pregnancy became deeply depressed. Duncan often asked him why his mommy was sad all the time, and Altair would just shush him and tell him that his mother was fine.

But Kaley was not fine. She once confessed to Altair that she wanted to kill herself, because this life they had was barely a life. She was tired. Altair understood. The generations of Assassins were getting gradually and gradually getting more fanatic in their beliefs, to the point of extremism. Kaley's parents were extremists, so was Andrew, but she was more moderate. She did not believe most of the causes the Assassins fought for anymore and she loathed to see her children raised in such an atmosphere.

Then the child was born. Altair kept Duncan with him that day while Kaley was in labor and taught him how to skip rocks in the nearby river. Duncan was excited to be a big brother and chattered endlessly on about what he wanted to do with his new baby brother. Altair had to remind him that his little brother wouldn't be able to do any of the things Duncan wanted to do till he was bigger. Duncan had just pouted a little and then they'd climbed trees as Altair told him the story of Brutus of Rome and how he slew Julius Caesar on the ides of March and how Brutus was one of them. Duncan stayed the night with Altair as well, sleeping in a sleeping bag next to Altair's bed in the home he shared with one of the other families. The next morning they went and saw the new baby, who'd been born some time that night.

They found the Miles' at opposite sides of the room. Kaley was lying in their bed, staring out the window, and Andrew was holding the new baby, his face stern. Duncan had run right up to his mother, climbing into her bed and Altair had a very bad feeling.

Over the next several weeks Kaley grew bitter and fell into deeper postpartum depression. Andrew was left to care mostly for the child and Duncan was largely ignored. Several people in the Farm helped with the older boy and infant alike, as it was obvious Kaley wanted no part in either of her children. Rather often Altair was saddled with Duncan, as both his parents had been used to him simply being around by then and were comfortable leaving their son with him. Less often Altair was left with the new baby, Desmond.

Duncan very obviously loved his little brother. He was around Desmond constantly, at least when he didn't have lessons and was old enough to watch the baby if there was someone else other then Kaley home. That person was often Altair, though also Andrew's friends within the compound, one of them being the Templar Altair swore he'd kill.

Desmond was a very normal child. He screamed when hungry or wet and messy as could be. Duncan said his brother was just a poop factory and Altair always replied he was too cute to be a factory. That always made Duncan laugh. Sometimes Altair stayed at the Miles' house when Desmond was a few months old and would wake to the sound of a woken baby and stumble from the couch to the infant's room. It was not the first time Altair had ever taken care of a child, even after his two first children Altair had taken care of many people's children, even some that grew up to call him father (though few others then Darim and Sef shared his bloodline). Kaley never tended to her son, and refused to acknowledge she even had children at all, even Duncan. On the dark nights like those when it was just him and baby Desmond awake, the rest of the house asleep or not even home (as Andrew had the habit of going to a nearby town with his friends, or sleeping in another woman's bed) Altair would sit on the floor, against the crib and sing him lullabies in Arabic until he fell asleep, then he'd stumble back to the couch and sleep for a few more hours before the baby would wake him for something else.

Months passed like this, Altair alternating between sleeping on the Miles' couch or in the house he was living in, his days broken up between novice lessons or helping around the Farm. Altair taught the entire group of novices, about seven children with ages ranged from six to fifteen, how to ride horses, and how to track in the woods and how to build fires without flint or lighters, how to catch fish with their bear hands (though with mixed results of effectiveness and they'd put a stop to those lessons when one of the girls had ended up hurting herself in the river), and the elder children he taught how to throw knives and fight. There was always a strange atmosphere of play about it though, as if they did not really believe they'd ever have to use these skills, but enjoyed having them regardless.

Desmond's first words were in Arabic. Altair had a habit of singing to him in Arabic before bedtime or when he was woken in the middle of the night, and Duncan had said he'd wanted to learn how to speak it because he said it sounded pretty. So when alone with the boy he would use it more often so he could pick up on the words. Desmond's first word was akh, 'brother,' when he saw Duncan, who'd been very excited. Altair was careful to speak English around Desmond more, saving his songs for the only Arabic he spoke around the boy. He started speaking English quickly after that, but always called Duncan 'akh' even when he learned the English word for brother.

Several years passed like this. Altair watched Desmond grow, and Duncan as well. When Duncan turned ten he was told to kill a crow by one of his instructors, he refused. Altair saw then that Duncan was soft. It was not a bad thing, no, not at all, in fact it was almost good. But he was not the boy Altair had come here to find. He turned his attention to Desmond, who was only three years old, though unlike Duncan's own parents never turned from him completely and still told him secrets and stories that the adults would have frowned upon.

Altair knew what he'd been searching for when Desmond was almost four years old. He was playing a game with the little boy, when he'd suddenly asked Altair why he was blue. Not sad, but blue. That had startled Altair and he said he wasn't sad. Desmond repeated in asking Altair was blue and it was only then that Altair had looked up and seen Desmond was staring at him, with a cocked head, eyes blazing golden. Altair had smiled at him and said it was because he was Desmond's friend, and always would be his friend.

That was Altair's last day at the Farm.

That night he stole away in the house the Templar lived in and killed him in his sleep and revealed his left foot. On the ball of his foot was a small brand in the shape of a cross and much like an Assassin's initiation Templars were branded by their order as well. His work done there he returned to the Miles'. Andrew wasn't there. He was currently enjoying the company of Cindy Holloway, a woman who lived in the compound, and Altair thought about going to kill him too. What a wretched man. But he did not, it was not his place.

Instead he entered Duncan's room and gently shaken the boy away. Duncan asked him what he was doing here.

'I'm leaving,' he'd said.

'Leaving? Why?'

'My time here is over.'

'I don't want you to leave!' Duncan had cried and hugged him. Altair had gently stroked his head.

'I can't stay,' his voice had been patient.

'Then take me with you,' he'd pleaded, 'Please Altair don't make me stay here. They're mean here and want me to hurt others. I don't want to do that. I want to hear more stories and climb trees,' he'd begged.

Altair had just shaken his head, 'I can't take you with me little one,' he'd said gently. 'It's important that you stay here, because you're the best one out of any of the people here.'

'Really?'

'Yes. You're going to be a good man one day Duncan, but you need to stay here,' and after a moment Duncan had nodded. 'I need you to do something for me, and it's very important, do you understand?' again Duncan had nodded. 'Good. When I'm gone, you need to take care of your little brother. Don't let him become like the others on the Farm.'

'How do I do that?'

'Be kind to him, as you are to everyone. Tell him stories, like I've told you. Make him ask questions, even if no one knows the answer.'

'Like you always tell me,' he'd said.

'Yes,' Altair'd agreed, 'There is nothing more important then to keep asking questions. Never let your parents or instructors tell you otherwise. Understand?'

'Yes,' he'd nodded for a third time.

'Good. Don't forget, Desmond needs you.'

'I don't want you to go,' Duncan had frowned.

Altair had smiled thinly, 'I know little one. But come the sunrise I will not be welcome here any longer,' too many questions would be raised, too much anger. 'But you're Desmond's akh, and you need to be with him. He'll need you to help weather this storm.'

'What storm?'

Altair had just smiled, 'Never stop asking, even if there is no answer,' and he'd kissed Duncan on the head and left the house. He heard Duncan follow after him but Altair simply slipped away into the night to become simply a story Duncan would tell his little brother of the man without a name or face.

-fin-