He felt his lungs filling with sand. Burning his insides as the sound of gunfire echoed through the storm. He was blinded by the sting of the sand in his eyes. The strong taste of blood in his mouth. They were dragging him as fast as they could. His equipment was weighing him down, but they could not risk having to lose another man. The soldiers dragging him had to keep moving. David was still conscious- required in their training- if a soldier is capable they had to direct fire. His body wanted to crumble. Their shouts kept him awake. They were not going to let him die. Not here. Not while they had the chance to escape.
'I will never leave a fallen comrade.' One of the warrior ethos that was embedded in each soldier. It was important to them. They were brothers in arms, even if one of them was already dead, they would not leave his body.
They were injured. They were hurt. The sound of the bird drawing closer to them. The sand became erratic and blinding. His brothers yelled out to him. They did not want to see him die. They could not lose another man. David was just moments from death. David was hurt- his injuries, he later learned were nothing more then bruises and scars. Except for the private who felt the full impact and his body...
David could not think of the image of Brown's body. The reports that he received were that Brown's body had lost two legs, three fingers, and parts of his face. No one could recognize him. Sadly, at his funeral there was no open casket. No one should have to see the damage.
David could feel death coming closer. His brothers continuing to drag him through the sand and dirt. His eyes became blurred as the blood spilled from his head. His shaking hand holding on to his M9 trying to shoot at black figures.
Something was wrong. Something wasn't right.
Then everything went quiet.
There was no sound of gunfire. No yelling. No sand storm. David's body was fine from the looks of it. He wasn't feeling sore. He wasn't feeling anything. He looked down at his body and noticed he was in his desert uniform- full battle rattle and m16 in hand. He placed his hand on his head noticing he still wore his ACH.
He felt his face. No grim. No sweat. No taste of blood. He did not even have a beard. He was in the firefight. He was dying.
No.
Something was off. He could feel it. Quickly standing, David raised his m16 while keeping his finger on the finger. This was wrong. He was supposed to be hailed away and out of danger. He knew he was in the same village, but there was no one. There was not a single soul around. David felt that fear that one would know when they are in danger. David has to keep going despite that fear. He walked with each cautious step. Keeping along the walls of the houses and checking every corner.
David was alone in this village. Every question in his head was running wild. He reached the house that was familiar to him. Hannad's home was still standing. Sweat was dripping down David's forehead. His heart was beating fast. He closed his eyes and opened them. Placing his hand on the door knob, David counted to three and went straight in with weapon held close and ready to fire. Expecting for the worst to happen, nothing went wrong.
There was no explosion. There was only a room filled with papers and books. Maps on walls and there, standing tall with his hands behind his back was Hannad himself. Alive. Most people who see a terrorists think them to be savages ready to kill. What David saw was a well respected man who showed no threat.
But looks can be deceiving.
"So, we meet at last. The foreigner in my lands." He spoke with a heavy accent. Hannad was not as tall as David, but he looked frail and old. David still kept his weapon close. Hannad was dangerous. He was a high profile case that had the United States on edge because of his reputation and ties to Bin Laden. If anything, David has the right to react.
"No need for such things. We have much to talk about." David was not sure if this was a dream. David was supposed to be in crusade era Syria. Wasn't he? No, something wasn't right. His memories of Syria were not his own. It was someone else's.
What the fuck is going on?
"They have been trying to make you remember your mistakes. Everything you see here, is not real. I am dead." Hannad said.
"If you are dead, does that mean I am too?" David was confused. Everything he thought he knew was turned inside out. There was no telling what was real and what was a supposed dream.
"No. You are not dead. But we have little time here. They want you to know something. What you see before you, all of this," He pointed to all the items in the room, "this is what they are after. My search started in Syria years ago. Every book, every legend has brought me there. I tried searching for it but could not find it. I've spent my time searching until… until the terrorist recruited me under threat. My family and everyone I knew were killed."
"Did the terrorists want what you were searching for?" David lowered his rifle. Hannad looked to every item around him. Sadness filled his eyes and his grown deepens.
"Al Qaeda wanted to protect me. I refused and my family suffered under their hands. They said If I did not have their protection, then my family would die. I watched my whole family perish and I could not refuse. Under secrecy I still searched. But… Then you Americans stormed my home and I had to kill myself to protect everything." Hannad closed his eyes.
"Who was it that were after you?" David asked.
"Templars."
"Should I believe a dead man? Templars have no control of what the government can do. They... They don't exist in out time." Right? There was no possible way Templars could survive in modern times. History said they no longer exist. They were all executed and jailed. Only stories of some survivng and getting away from persecution to the new world. But to think they still thrieve. It was laughable.
David quickly closed his eyes as the image of the man: Warren Vidic came into light. David clenched his fists and opened his eyes.
Hannad was gone. He was not in Afghanistan but back inside the stone walls of Masyaf. His hand went to the sword at his waist. His clothing of that of the assassin. David looked up to the roof and sighed. His training was to continue.
…
Another sleepless night. Another piece of the puzzle. Closer and closer, David was understanding every meaning. Somehow, figuring out these puzzles was drawing him nearer to getting home. Yet, there was this ominous feeling. As if death was a shadow watching over as they made their way inside the gates of the Holy City: Jerusalem. Altair has felt that prescience long before David. Though, Altair was accustomed to such a feeling which made David even more alert then he already was. Their horses even felt it.
David has noticed something about Altair. His demeanor, his pose, even how he treated the former soldier was different. David could see that Altair has changed. He seemed wiser and just as nature for his age. David was so used to always seeing a very solemn assassin with a grave that showed his arrogance. Even David changed as things were beginning to make sense.
"I am aware you know of who we are fighting?" Altair spoke out of the blue.
"It is no secret now. But I'd rather not say it out loud." The people walking the streets eyes the two assassins- David has to come to terms that he was now one of them. He did not carry the hidden blade, nor had any desire to have one. The people of the city had to keep their eyes cautious of the two hooded men. They disguised themselves as scholars, holy men, and ghosts. David has a better understanding now of Assassin's.
"You fear something." Altair did not have to look to the man's face to see something wrong. Altair was observant.
David kept his hood lowered. The people eyes watching them was unnerving. Those images of Afghanistan were the locals kept watch on the soldier's; waiting, planning, and observing. David felt like he was back there in that Hell.
"Just… a memory." David marched forwards in front of Altair. His size, his strength, Altair was impressed by how much he changed. They were the same. And it scared Altair.
Altair did not press the matter further. The assassin kept a steady pace while David followed close behind. Altair had much going through his mind as well. Above them an eagle soared leading them close to the answers they seek.
They reached the bureau where Malik busied himself with one of his beautifully crafted maps. David has felt solace in the one armed assassin. Malik was different from the other rafiqs. David kinda like this man, even though sometimes Malik could be a bit harsh when he wanted to be.
"Safety and peace, Altair and David." Malik spoke looking up.
"Upon you as well, brother." Replied Altair.
David lightly bowed with respect towards the other assassin. Malik acknowledged the novice with his version of a tender smile. Malik held respect for David, but it was not easy gaining it. That month under the rafiqs training was grueling.
"Seems fate has a funny way with things…" David raised a brow.
"So it's true, then? Robert de Sable is in Jerusalem?" Altair said.
David looked to both assassin's. Altair did not speak of this with me. David mused.
"I've seen the nights myself." Malik said. His hand went to his stump. The pain that registered on the rafiqs face of the memory. Altair felt the guilt of the memory. He was the reason Malik lost his arm. Altair had to make things right between the two. David leaned against the wall as the two began to talk. This was important information and David could not miss a single detail.
"Truly you are not the man I once knew." Malik spoke
David blinked to gather his wild thoughts. Malik looked to David then back to Altair. They spoke in their native language leaving David out of conversation. No doubt they let his name slip from their lips. David would have said something but his head was pounding. His sleepless night was gaining its toll on his body.
"Leave him here, Altair. He does not look as if he cannot stand. He is not focused." Malik cast a glance at the foreigner. David was rubbing his temple and he looked pained. Altair nodded his head in understanding. Though, he wanted David by his side to serve a purpose in the defeat of Robert. David was a brother- not by blood- but by his actions towards them. Altair held much respect to him.
"Malik…" Altair began to speak but Malik had heard enough. They spoke of the mission and Altair wanted to make amends to their friendship.
"Perhaps if I had not been so envious of you, I would not have been so careless myself. I am just as much to blame." David watched the two assassin while his head pounded. The room was warm, his body was on fire. David did not feel as if he was capable of leaving.
Altair and Malik had finished their talking. Altair turned to David and could see that the novice was getting weak.
"You will stay here, David. You do not look you are in any condition to continue." He spoke.
"I am just as capable to go." David spoke.
Malik let out a sigh and walked from behind the counter. A stern look on his face. "You will do as you are told, novice. Until you rest, you will not be a liability." Malik was stern with authority in his voice. David could argue but it would only lead him to only do as he was told.
"You have become one of us. A true brother in the world of Assassin's." Malik spoke as he poured a cup of hot water. Inside the cup were leaves and the smell was pungent. David waited for the contents to cool before drinking.
"I do not feel any different. I have yet to as old the hidden blade." David said.
Malik wanted to scorn the man. Truly the other assassin's were doing all they can to keep David from achieving his full potential.
"The hidden blade does not define an assassin. You have been training under our guidance. Have you forgotten all you have learned?" David shook his head, feeling shamed.
"I am grateful and honored. But… why was I not to go with Altair?" David was curious. Throughout the time he and Altair would go on missions. David has learned to defend himself and learned to attack. But, he could not kill. At least not again. Altair and he had much to gain from these men. They were Templars.
But... Something was hidden.
Malik was good at keeping a certain composure.
"I have been watching you since you first arrived in Masyaf. Something about you was strange as it would be for any foreigner. We thought you to be one of them. The crusaders, but I was wrong on my guess. You are something more. And we have to protect you from what will happen." David had the urge to run. But he remained seated as his drink became cold.
"My time with the brotherhood has been nothing but secrets. As such I know you keep them close. These men that Altair has been sent to kill are connected. Something wrong and the shadow that grows will become stronger. I am tired of not knowing. What do I have to do with this? Why protect me?" David slammed his fists in the table.
Malik took in a heavy breath. With all his knowledge and his assassin's keeping watch, David was a grown man. He was not a child. His eyes have seen war and death. His body has overcame the toughest obstacles. The rafiq has to keep a calm composure. Altair was rubbing off on David in terms of his impatience, but the thirst for knowledge was a trait Altair learned from David.
In a calm voice- with some irritation- Malik had to choose his words carefully. If David wanted the truth he was going to be handed it. He told David what he needed to know. Malik made sure that his men were right and that truly David was indeed in fact a Sage. What seemed like hours only been a few minutes.
David has to let everything sink in. Now, it all made sense. The reason he was under the training of the assassin's. The reason he was in Syria.
"If out enemy were to find out, they would have use of you. The Templars sought the Ark and it's treasure. If they were to find out about you, humanity would fall."
Outside the safe walls of the bureau, bells rang. Altair was on the run.
And soon, both men will have to face their demons.
.~.~.~..~.
And if the night is burning
I will cover my eyes
For if the dark returns then
My brothers will die
And as the sky's falling down
It crashed into this lonely town
And with that shadow upon the ground
I hear my people screaming out