Wake Up

Altair looked over the rich district of the city of Jerusalem; he had a perfect view of the district, he could see everyone and everything, but he didn't come up here so he could find his next target, or to see if citizens needed his help. No, he had come up here to escape from everything. He needed to get away from Malik, Al Mualim, the brotherhood…everything! He couldn't take anymore of Malik calling him a novice and blaming him about Kadar's death! Yes, he had been the reason why the young assassin's life had been cut short, but it was Malik's fault for not protecting his younger brother while he went after the Templars! Then there was Al Mualim, his master; he had demoted him from master assassin to novice because of his one mistake in Solomon's Temple and now he was out trying to prove himself to his master that he could be more than a novice, more than an irrational man that killed to get what he wanted. He had gone against every part of the creed there was, but wasn't it for the best? If he hadn't broken the three main rules of the creed, they wouldn't have the treasure and several more men would have died besides Kadar. I only followed Al Mualim's orders; I don't understand why they were so upset with me! Sighing, Altair stood up on the post he had been crouching on for the past hour, spread his arms out, and leapt down into the hay pile that had been lying right beneath him. He landed in the hay, ignoring the way it poked into his skin and slowly got out; the last thing he wanted to do was gain attention, especially from the guards.

I should have just climbed down from that tower. I need to get back to the bureau so I can talk to Malik and it would be easier to scale the rooftops than walk on foot; it would save a lot of time too. He needed to get to the poor district as soon as possible. Altair just wanted to get the information that he needed, assassinate his target, and get back to Maysaf and prepare for his next assignment. So far, Altair couldn't make heads or tails of all of these assignments; every man he killed seemed to have his own reasons for what he had done. They were wrong doings in the eyes of the assassins, but to them they believed they were only doing good. That they were helping the cities that they controlled and destroyed. Making a mental note to talk to his master about it later, Altair continued his journey through the district, keeping his eye out for guards, beggars, and citizens that might possibly need his help. He didn't mind helping the citizens, it was his job to protect the innocent, but sometimes he wished that his conscience would just leave him alone! He always felt guilty when he had to ignore a citizen who was being harassed by the guards, but sometimes he didn't really have a choice; it was either help them, or get caught and killed. He usually chose himself.

"Please, sir, can't you spare a few coins? Just a few coins are all I ask for!" a beggar woman pleaded, running up to Altair's side. Altair let out a small groan of annoyance; couldn't these women just leave him alone? Stepping aside, he continued on his way, but was nearly tripped when the woman came up in front of him, her dark eyes angry.

"You don't understand! I'm poor and sick and hungry!" she shouted at him. Just ignore her. They usually go away when you ignore them. Keeping his brown gaze ahead, Altair continued on his way to the bureau with the beggar woman still trailing silently behind him. Giving a frustrated growl, Altair took a sharp right down an alley and found the footholds on the building nearest to him; they were slippery, but his years of experience allowed him to keep a strong grip on the wall and scaled up. It only took him a few seconds to get up onto the roof tops and quickly glanced down at the woman who had been following him. Her mouth was set in a firm, annoyed line and beneath her dirty, ratty clothing he could see that her body was tense and in her skinny hand she held a rock and appeared that she was about ready to chuck it at him.

Altair felt a smirk creep up onto his face before he quickly turned around and began running across the rooftop, the smirk soon turning into a small smile. He loved running across the roof tops; he loved the feeling of the slanting roofs and the wood underneath his boots, he loved the feeling of when he jumped from one building to another, the feeling of nothing underneath him and then landing gracefully on the other building, but it wasn't as enjoyable when he fell and missed his target. He had broken several bones before because he miscalculated on how far the building was away from him. Luckily, Malik and Kadar had been there to help him and were able to get him to the healer before there was any real permanent damage. I guess Malik has done more for me than I had originally thought.

Shaking his head, the master-turned-novice assassin saw his target coming up; the roof was open and he could hear the quiet trickle of the water from the fountain that was inside the bureau and the even lighter tinkling of the chimes that Malik that he had hanging up by his desk, where the one armed man would make his maps and stand behind all day long. Altair wondered how it felt to be stuck behind a desk all day when he had been trained for the life of an assassin. He knew for the first few weeks of his imprisonment in the bureau, Malik had become stir crazy and the man refused to talk to him, even though they were "friends" at the time. The young man didn't even know what he and his friend were anymore; Malik only spoke to Altair as much as he had to and it was always cold and heartless, lacking the emotion that he had grown used to hearing ever since they were children.

Giving a small sigh, Altair thanked whoever might be up above that the guards weren't out and dropped silently into the bureau, being mindful of the fountain; the last time he had come to the building he had accidentally dropped into the fountain and all his former friend did was sneer at him and call him a novice. Feeling the ground beneath his feet once more, his eyes glanced over at the pill of pillows that always sat in the sun filled room and was half ways tempted to sit down on them and drift off to sleep, he couldn't remember the last time he actually slept, but he had a mission to fulfill and if he was able to stay on bureau master's good side, he might be able to stay the night and sleep…

"I thought I gave you all the information that you needed, novice." Malik growled slightly, his head bent over a map. He had heard the assassin creep into his bureau, but he didn't want to remove himself from his map; he had been working on it for days and he was nearly finished. The only thing that could possibly piss him off in that moment would be to have Altair somehow screw it up and he would have to start all over and knowing Altair, the assassin would figure out some way to destroy his work.

"Hello to you too, Malik. Yes, you did give me the information that I needed, but I have gathered enough to get to where I need to go." Altair responded coolly. Rolling his eyes at the expected "novice" comment, he wandered over towards a chair that sat in the corner by Malik's bed and took a seat. He just wanted to rest for a minute before he went on to complete his mission.

"Well, are you going to share this information with me, or do you just wish for me to give the feather and you leave. Personally, I would prefer the latter of the two options."

"Since you asked, my friend, the information I gathered was that Eyad Faakir is currently residing in Acre and that he has consorting with several high up Templars."

"Eyad Faakir? I thought he was one of the bureau leaders? Damn traitor!" Malik hissed through his teeth. Eyad Faakir had been best friends with Kadar. Why would he betray the assassins by associating with the Templars? The young 22 year old never wanted to become an assassin, but his father had forced him into the brotherhood against his will and almost immediately he had clung onto Kadar like a life line! Throughout their training, the two of them had become inseparable, but then Eyad had become sick with a terrible fever that seemed to spread around Maysaf and once he recovered, he was too weak and frail to become an assassin. Al Mualim told him that either he made himself useful in Maysaf or become a bureau leader and help the brotherhood. The young novice decided that he would become a bureau leader in Acre, claiming that he would rather help the assassins than remain useless in Maysaf, but who knew that he would turn his back on the brotherhood? What would Kadar think of his friend now?

"He is one of the bureau leaders. I must leave for Acre at dawn to ensure that I arrive tomorrow afternoon."

"Then stay here until then, Altair. I would rather have you here than sleeping in some alley where the guards could kill you."

Grinning, Altair stood up from his seat and walked into the adjoining room that held the soft, plush pillows. "Why this sudden hospitality? I thought you hated me?"

"I despise you with all my heart, Altair, but I would rather have a novice stay in my bureau than getting a lecture from Al Mualim, demanding why his 'best' assassin had been killed while sleeping unprotected." Malik pinched the bridge of his nose. Tonight was going to be a long night.

^.^

Altair closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the stone wall of the bureau. Malik hadn't said a word to him since they agreed that Altair should stay at the bureau instead of prowling around Jerusalem. The assassin was exhausted and he really didn't feel like riding all the way out to Acre, but he knew he must; he didn't have a choice when the orders came from Al Mualim.

But, at the moment, the assassin didn't have to worry about his missions, his assassinations, or the fact that Malik could quite possibly kill him while he was sitting. He felt a sense of calm he hadn't felt since the day he had become a master assassin and he forgot how it felt. Perhaps I should relax more often during missions, but then I would get too lazy to even do the missions. What kind of an assassin would I be if I didn't assassinate anyone?

Running his calloused hands over his face, Altair felt the stubble on his chin scratch his fingers and absently thought about removing the hair on his face; sometimes it distracted him and it would itch. The assassin took a deep breath before he brought his head forward and stared ahead at Malik. The man hadn't stopped working since he had arrived and he wondered if the bureau master was ever going to go to bed. Knowing the man since childhood, Altair knew he was a stubborn fool and pushed himself to his absolute limit so he guessed that Malik would more than likely get little to no sleep tonight. Chuckling at the thought, he let his brown eyes slip closed and frowned a little. He wished that he could just instantly fall asleep; he needed the energy for the mission and staying awake wasn't going to give him that energy that he needed, but for some reason instead of sleep, he would get these random visions of a young girl.

She was a few years younger than he was, maybe five or so, and she had short brown hair and piercing green eyes, but the thing that compelled him the most were the clothes that she always seemed to wear. They were much different from what he and the other citizens wore and he was curious as to know if the country where the Templars came from wore clothes like that. I highly doubt that. They seem to be a bunch of conservative bastards, even more so than our people. She wears what appear to be pants and clothes that loosely cling to her body. Or she might be wearing what appears to be a short skirt, much too short for a woman, and matching top. She wears it almost every day; I wonder if that is her own uniform? Another thing that puzzled Altair when he saw the girl was that whenever he saw her, she had a terrified expression on her face, like she knew he was looking at her and watching her go through her life.

Why would the girl be afraid of him? What had he done to frighten her so? Was she afraid of something else? He couldn't imagine anything happening to her that would frighten her like that. Shut up, Altair! This girl is a vision and nothing more!

"Malik, can I ask you something?" Altair heard the former assassin groan in frustration, but his dark eyes looked over in his direction, letting him know that he had his full attention. "Have you ever had visions? It might sound like madness, but whenever I close my eyes, I see these images of people and of places that I have never even heard of. They all look strange and most of them revolve around this girl. I don't know what her name is, but every time I see her, she looks like a frightened animal, ready to run at the slightest sound or movement." The man mumbled quietly, hoping Malik had heard him so he wouldn't have to repeat himself.

"It sounds as if you have lost it, brother, but rest assured these visions or dreams or whatever you are having probably mean nothing. Perhaps you were out in the sun to long, novice." Malik sneered. What on earth was Altair talking about? Maybe the novice assassin had officially lost his mind along with his title.
"I knew I shouldn't have said a word to you. You're about as helpful as a Templar."

"Glad I could be of service." Malik gave a mock bow before he turned back to his maps, his head shaking back and forth at his former friend's stupidity.

"It still bothers me though, the fact that she always looks so scared. I wonder what she is seeing and if I should be seeing it too. Or if the actual danger is in her world and not ours."

"Are you still talking? Honestly, Altair, these visions mean nothing. This girl is only a figment of your crazed mind and I'm sure that there isn't any danger coming your way, or hers. So if you would kindly please keep your mouth shut, I must finish this map before dawn."

"Doing something at dawn?" Altair quirked an eyebrow at the comment.

"As a matter of fact, I am, novice. It's called going to bed; I hear many people do it." The one armed man sneered, not even bothering to look over at the younger man.

Altair couldn't help but laugh at the sarcasm in the comment. Malik might hate him and he might be the biggest sarcastic bastard he knew, but the man still managed to lighten the mood of things. "Fine, I will stop speaking of these visions. Just don't tell anyone about what I have told you; this is in confidence." He didn't want Malik's tongue to slip and have word travel back to Maysaf that the once great Altair had officially gone insane and was having strange visions of even stranger things. All he received was a nod and he felt a bit more at ease.

Altair mulled over what Malik had told him. Perhaps the Rafiq was right; perhaps these visions meant nothing and that he shouldn't worry about him. His main concern should be his mission, not a young girl who didn't exist. Closing his eyes once more, he felt his body relax as he let the soft music the chimes were making lull him into a deep and dreamless sleep.

^.^

She wanted to scream. She wanted to punch something. She wanted to pull her hair out. Arianna was at her wits end with these…visions or dreams or whatever the hell was going with her! She had been sitting in the library minding her own business when she allowed her eyes to drop for a few moments; she knew the librarian would leave her alone so she didn't have to worry about being disturbed, but once they drifted completely shut, she wanted to snap them back open again. Altair had been sitting across from her at the table, his form was silhouetted in a light blue and there seemed to be a cocky smirk on his face. The girl wanted nothing more than to wipe that smirk off his face, but as she kept watching, she noticed that his attention wasn't on her, but on someone else.

Arianna saw that he was gazing over her shoulder and she quickly turned around in her seat and saw another figure in blue, but she couldn't make out his face or body. The only thing she knew was that she didn't need to feel afraid around him, that she was safe and that whoever was there wouldn't harm her, unlike Altair. The man made the seemingly tough girl terrified; she didn't want to get stabbed in her dreams again and end up bleeding all over the place. Arianna heard muffled voices, one belonging to Altair and the other belonging to the man who was with them also. She couldn't understand what they were saying, not like the last time when Altair had spoken to her in English, but from what she could gather, it sounded like the man behind her was growing increasingly annoyed with Altair, she already loved him for it, and she could hear a slightly concerned tone in his voice.

Then as abruptly as the vision had started, it ended leaving her to look into the blackness of her eyelids. At least I wasn't attacked in this one! He didn't even appear to be threatening me! It was like I wasn't even there that time. Arianna had opened up her eyes and looked around the nearly empty library and sighed in relief; at least no one was around to watch her freak out.

That was the only vision she seemed to have that day, which she found odd. Did they only happen when she closed her eyes? How was she going to be able to sleep? She wanted answers and she wanted them now! But she knew she wasn't going to get any. The only thing she could do was put up with them until she found a solution to her problem.

Well, I guess Altair and I are going to become good friends, even if he threatens me again. It's not like I have much of a choice; either I get used to these visions and stay clear of his anger, or I sit here and go completely insane, which I'm pretty sure by this point has already happened!

Thank you for waiting so long for this update! I wrote this chapter three different times and this was the only one that I liked. I had to write a small bit for Altair; I thought our favorite assassin needed a little bit of attention, even if he is a big jerk. And of course we had to have Malik! Malik makes me laugh and I love him so much! Way to give Altair a hard time! Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy it. I had fun writing it!

^.^