She felt her body slam into something and bounce away. Noises were being made but they didn't make sense. Fitz' eyes wouldn't focus right away. Things swirled around her. Where was she?
"I'm coming!...on..." She thought she heard. She looked in the general direction of her hand, which was being pulled over head. Was she being dragged?
"Heyn,staw..." she drawled, taking a bluff swipe. Her mouth wasn't working.
"Fitz...oothere..."
"Ahmfi..fizz.." People. They were standing over her, pulling at her. The ringing in her ears began to fade and voices took its place.
"...es, you're Fitz. Jeez, is she drunk?" Her hand flailed for a second and rested on the direction the voice was coming. "Gran? Zyoo?"
"Yeah, Justine. I'm Grant. Can you move?"
She tried to think. "Moveya. Yuss." Her hand twitched onto the floor, with a thunk. Grant looked down at her, trying not to laugh.
"Okay. I'm gonna give you a hand here. One, two, three..." He shifted his weight to grab behind her and hoisted her up. More swirling. "Hanover, can you-"
"Yeah, I've got it. Just a sec." She and Yusef were busy righting the Animus, tracking the vizor out of the way. Grant basically poured the time-traveler into the contraption.
"Burke? Anything?"
Burke this entire time had been poring over the database, searching for any clue that the plan had worked. He held up a hand to silence her, never looking away from the screens. Hanover turned her attention back to Fitz, who was still trying to form words.
"Is she alright, Yusef? She hit the ground pretty hard."
"True story," Grant chimed in. "She bounced right off of the Animus."
Yusef held a lead light in her eyes. She squinted, but he held her eyelids up. Instinct made her pull away. "Small concussion. Heart rate's elevated, but after traveling through time..."
"Is that what we're saying happened?" Grant's eyes lit up. "She did it?" He grabbed onto Hanover's arm. "Like for real-real?"
Yusef nodded. Grant hit the ceiling, cheering and dancing around. Hanover, though more reserved, celebrated as well. The medic returned to his patient.
"Can you hear me, Justine?"
She nodded faintly, eyes trying still to focus. "Uh huh."
"Welcome back, McFly. Came in a bit hot there."
"Did I miss or something?" Her head lolled to the side, trying to see what had happened. A wastebasket was overturned, a stack of files what were once on the workstation were now all over the floor.
"No, you just hit really hard when you landed. Kind of-" he made a motion of a stone skipping across a lake with his hands.
"Ah."
"Water? Aspirin?" he offered.
"How 'bout a beer and a bottle of Nyquil?" she half laughed. He did, too.
"Yeah, I think you'll be alright."
"Hey, did you bring me something shiny?" Grant asked, prodding her, peeking over the headrest. She stared off for a moment, then her eyes went wide. Fitz began feeling at her enclosures, tossing and turning. "Whoa, whoa. What are you doing? You need to be lying down." She reached a hand out, needing to stand.
"I'm all twisted up in these." She shed the bulky robes as fast as she could. A folded sheaf of parchment skittered to the floor. She immediately dove for it, carefully opening it. Grant looked down at her, on the floor.
"What is it?"
Fitz smiled. "How good is your Arabic, Thomas Grant?" He knelt down next to her and read aloud:
We have received your Messenger. May she find you in the same condition in which she was sent. The apple's wisdom is protected here.- A.
"Holy crap! Altair?! He wrote you a note?!"
Fitz wore a big grin. "Aww. That's so sweet. Thanks, Altair." She stood up, leaving Grant in complete shock. It had worked. "Hey do we have like, a laminator, or something? I'mma frame this." The rapturous joy she oozed wasn't helping her footing. Every step had her teetering as she dumbly pushed books and files over, looking for her next tool.
Hanover took the parchment gingerly from her. "I'll go take care of this for you." She spun Justine around. "You go take care of you. Get some rest. You can tell us all about it later." The younger assassin suddenly realized how tired she was.
"Good idea. I'll go get some sleep." She turned toward Yusef. "I can go sleep, right? I'm not gonna die?"
He smiled warmly at her. "Not today." She returned the smile and followed the dark hallway back towards their bunks, hands and shoulder firmly against the wall. Yusef closed his laptop and joined the others. "Find anything, Burke?"
Burke, eyeglasses reflecting the glow, was still hunched over the screens was combing page after page in the electronic database. "Still looking. I'm really afraid it didn't work."
Grant slapped him on the back. "Hey, she just got back. We've got literally a thousand years of history to go through here. Baby steps, man."
"I've sent her off for some rest, "Hanover said, at length. "She looked dead on her feet. Yusef cleared her."
"Good. We can find out about her experience tomorrow."
Hanover opened the parchment. "I really can't believe this. We have a primary resource from Altair himself." She drew her finger over the script.
"It says he received the message and it's safe in Masyaf," Grant reported.
"Do you think it was sealed away in the Library?" Hanover queried. "Maybe it disintegrated or wasn't kept at all. I mean, he wouldn't be the only Assassin to turn down a mission."
Grant frowned. "Yeah, Auditore did the same thing, in the same place. Maybe Masyaf was a bad choice? He scrubbed the back of is neck with is hand. "Maybe that's where secrets go to die."
Burke perked up. "I think I've got something here." The others gathered in around him. "Look."
They were met with a single entry. Messenger, The.
"Is that us? Click it."
The entry was not to be believed. A full write-up had been done. A search for "The Messenger" had begun almost as soon as she had left Masyaf. Skimming the article, it seemed the Polo's trip to the Citadel was just the spur Altair needed to send out Guilds around the world. There were scores of first hand accounts of full-on hunts and factions dedicated to the script. Altair's son even left an account of meeting Justine.
"The young woman was like nothing I'd encountered. Her manner was subservient and serene, but not to the law of Man. She seemed ethereal, like she herself plotted her own return. I did not think of this at the time, but now, looking back, I fear seeing the golden-haired woman again. My father bore a heavy weight and locked himself away protecting the Message and other artifacts left to the world. I copied it down and brought it back, sent it out with the others to the far corners. I can only pray that the next time we see her, her blade will be keen and strike down her enemies with the fury of Heaven."
Scrolling further down would show a charcoal sketch of what he remembered her to look like. Not exactly, but they knew who he meant.
The group stood amazed. They had done it. They had effectively changed history. They would remake the world. Burke smiled. His words had changed everything. The Templars would never be in power. With a little luck, they would cease to exist.
Further investigation revealed what else had changed with their actions. The Messenger had become a prevalent driving force, it seemed. New branches of the Order centered around the lore. Texts dating from the 1300s hinted at a small revolution among the Assassins. An attempt had been made to quash a rebellion in Portugal, thought to be the work of Templar agents. The assassins dispatched were met with a splinter sect of the their own, known as "The Throne", no doubt an allusion to the original prophecy. The members of The Throne had put down nearly all of the aristocracy in a bloody massacre. Those who were sent out reported the cult had been erased.
But it was not the case. Again, a new faction, this one known as "Les Secrete D'Roi," had proven to be far worse. This new organization had masterminded the French Revolution. They were led by a woman, Henri Valois, purported to be the Messenger. They planted themselves within the people's uprising and led the revolt against Versailles. The Messenger herself was revealed to be a fraud, but the damage was already done. The factions swift rise galvanized the masses of France to take action against the monarchy. Again, the Guild came after them. However this time, it was reported this mission was a failure. Les Secrete D'Roi gained a foothold, securing their place. This cult now over shadowed the Templars, who slowly died out and disbanded at the turn of the last century.
Burke sat a moment quietly. His plan had worked perhaps a little too well. No. The plan goes forward.
But how successful will they be?