Chapter Twelve: Clavibus et Memorias
Desmond helped Kadar over the posts leading deeper into the Temple. They hadn't discussed Ezio's words much, though Desmond had explained that the Italian was one of his ancestors. Two days later found them in Jerusalem, hiding from the other Assassins and making their way into the Temple. They had worn robes over their Assassin attire, fearful of running into Malik or Altair or any other Assassin since they knew it would result in, according to Ezio, Kadar's death.
Desmond felt he understood the logic. Kadar had been attacked and should have died. It was his fate to die by the hand of Templars while Altair made a fool of himself and Malik had no choice, but to run with the Apple of Eden back to Masyaf. Thus, it was Altair's fate to hunt the nine while Malik was thrust into the position of rafiq, even though he still had both arms. Since Kadar should have died, he was not permitted to return to the Assassin Order in Masyaf. If he did, his fate would again be assured. By this logic, as long as Kadar stuck with Desmond and avoided the Brotherhood, he would live. It was a sad fate, but he was sure even Kadar would agree it was better than death. He planned to tell Kadar his thoughts on this and hoped it would ease his mind. He also intended to assure Kadar of Malik living well after this. He just didn't know what he was supposed to tell Malik.
"There it is." Kadar pointed with his left arm. "The ark. They brought it down."
"And found it empty." Desmond added as he leaped down from the ledge, Kadar carefully following. "Those notes are Robert de Sable's. Leave them, in case Malik comes for them."
"And so what are we looking for."
"A keyhole."
"What kind of keyhole?"
"Remember how big the Apple was?"
"Yes..."
"About like that and round."
Kadar was frowning, but scanned the room anyways. "They may not have dug it up yet."
"Yeah...they may not have."
As they continued to rummage through the room, kicking up dust, and making suggestions, Desmond's mind wandered. He knew Kadar would have no choice, but to come with him back to his time once this was over. He was also certain Ezio showing up in the Animus was a clue. He would have to go to the Renaissance and, likely, to the Colonial Revolution as well. It was an adventure he wasn't particularly happy to be taking. As it had been in Masyaf when he had run into Karim, he worried of what he would do when he met Luca or Heyreddin again. Due to the violent nature of his interaction with Karim, he had been able to let go of the emotions and move on quickly from the shock of meeting him again. The relationship with Luca had been brief and though he often thought of him foremost when he thought of love, he doubted he'd be able to rekindle any feelings for him. Heyreddin was a whole different story. They had been together for years and had known almost everything about each other. He had known what the Turk had liked, what he didn't like, what his weird fetishes were, and how his mind worked. What would he do when or if he saw Heyreddin again? A lurch in his stomach gave him his answer and he had a feeling Heyreddin wouldn't exactly appreciate some weird time-traveling Assassin flinging himself onto him.
"What's wrong?"
Desmond jerked his head up and stared at Kadar, blinking as he tried to figure out the worry on the young man's face. His gaze flicked to himself and he stood, baffled to find he had been kneeling and gripping his chest. Haytham's words were ringing in his ears. How they had captured and tortured Heyreddin...his stomach was tight as the thought wound itself around his gut. Had Heyreddin really caved so badly as to detail their time spent together? If so, he couldn't imagine the torture they had put him through.
"Nothing..." Desmond cleared his throat when it came out in a croak. "It's just memories. It's difficult. I have a lot of memories from all over the place and none of them are real...anymore. I miss a lot of people. I miss the Altair and Ezio I used to know. I miss Connor. I miss Karim. I miss Luca. I really miss Heyreddin. Hell, I even miss my father."
Kadar's brows were pinched so tight on his forehead, it looked as if he was in pain.
"I feel bad too because I saved you, but you can't go home...it's like...ugh...I feel stupid."
"I understand why I can't." Kadar told him. "I'm fine with it. I'm happy just to be alive and to know my brother is alive and he isn't hurt. Don't worry about me and stop feeling stupid. We're alive and we're going to stop that bad thing that happens in your time. Okay?"
Desmond chuckled, wiping at his face. "Yeah. Thanks."
"And...I'm sorry you miss everyone."
"It's not your fault."
"I know." Kadar fidgeted on his feet, staring at the ground. "But...I don't know...the way you looked at Karim...you missed him...and you were sad...but you were also...happy."
Desmond sighed, his heart thumping a little faster in his chest. "Because I was. Well, any luck?"
"Huh?"
"With the keyhole?"
"Oh...um...n-no."
"Okay then." Desmond turned and grabbed a shovel. "I'll start digging. Over there seems good."
Kadar watched him, a frown on his features, before following him to the corner.
Desmond set the shovel down, breathing out in relief. "Finally."
Three weeks of digging on his own while Kadar did what he could with one arm and they had finally reached the doorway. The keyhole awaited them. It was just to get the key.
"Al Mualim has it." Desmond said after they had finished brushing away any extra dirt. "But I shouldn't...his eyes narrowed for a second at the doorway. "Wait...there's another keyhole..."
He touched the small circular slot, a frown growing on his face.
"Shit...we need the key from America."
"Amer..." Kadar gave him a furrowed brow look.
"Shaun. Rebecca. Pull me out."
Woot! Another chapter!