Age 13:

In the year one thousand, one hundred sixty-three, Faheem Al-Sayf was sent on an unusually long mission to Jerusalem that took the bulk of two months. During that time, he spent a lot of the time in the market place, even after he had collected the necessary information from that area of the city, because, as he would tell his children later on, he wanted to watch the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

Junah El-Amin was the daughter of a merchant. She had long, dark hair and bright blue eyes that shined through her veil, hinting at a mixed heritage that was not apparent anywhere else. She and Faheem were fairly close in age, although most of her friends were already married and had children by the time Faheem came to Jerusalem. This was mostly due to the fact that her father was a difficult man to please. Not because he was greedy, and wanted a lot of value in his dowry, but because he believed that his only child deserved the very best, when it came to marriage, and rejected every man who attempted to court her, believing them unworthy for his daughter.

Faheem was no acceptation. When he finally worked up the courage to speak to her, both Junah and her father were unimpressed, and rejected him. However, Faheem was persistent, and visited her every day, and eventually Junah fell for him too. Her father took a lot of convincing, but he could see that the two were truly in love, and eventually agreed.

In the last couple of days of Faheem's visit to Jerusalem, the assassin completed his mission and married Junah, before the newly wed couple headed back to Masyaf. Along the way, Faheem explained to Junah what he was, and what their order did, but her love for him did not waver in the slightest.

Two years later, during which time Faheem's friend, Umar lbn-La'Ahad, had married his wife, Junah gave birth to their first son with no complications. A couple of weeks later, Umar's own wife gave birth to their son, but she unfortunately died in the process. Three years later, Junah gave birth to their second child, once again producing a healthy baby boy.

In the year one thousand, one hundred seventy eight, when Malik was thirteen and Kadar was ten, Junah became very ill. She was constantly feverish and her hands would shake when she lifted them. She was bound to her bed all day every day, because she was too weak to sit up, or even feed herself. Junah was slowly wasting away from the inside, and the medics of Masyaf did not know what was wrong with her, or how to fix her. Faheem and their children would come to her bedside as often as they could, until one day Al Mualim wanted to sent Faheem on a mission to Acre.

Faheem consulted his wife about it, who said, "Go, my love, and do your master's work. I will still be here when you get back, you needn't worry."

And so Faheem, still reluctant to go, left the next day. A week later, Junah Al-Sayf and her sons received word that Faheem had been killed out on mission, and that his corpse was not in a state pleasant enough to be seen by his family.

If anything, the news of Faheem's death made Junah's condition worse. She had lost the will to live, not even to raise her two sons. Through out most of the day, she would stare blankly at the ceiling, while the medics attempted to make her better. She was so ill that she couldn't be moved to the infirmary. At night, however, she would often cry out to Faheem, begging him to come home, which frightened Kadar, leaving Malik to awkwardly attempt to comfort his younger brother.

On a cool, October evening, two weeks after Faheem's death, Malik was in one of the large libraries of the fortress, hunched over an ancient tome on how to have better form in sword fighting, and how to know when to strike. The light from the window was fading, and he knew that he would have to light a few candles soon if he wanted to continue reading.

"Malik! Brother!" he heard Kadar's voice call from the hall, along with the thumping sound that indicated he was running.

Kadar ran through the open doorway of the library, but Malik did not look up. He only paused to close his eyes and grimace, before looking back at his book.

"Kadar, leave me alone." he snapped, "Can't you see I'm trying to r-"

"It's mother." Kadar said plaintively.

Malik blanched and stared over at his brother, whom he could now see looked scared, panicked, and worried. Malik leaped to his feet, nearly knocking over his chair in the process.

"What happened?" he demanded, "Is she...?" he couldn't bare to finish the thought.

"N-not yet." Kadar said, his voice quivering.

Malik bolted past Kadar and headed directly towards the room that the four of them used to share, Kadar following close behind. He burst through the door, to find two medics already inside. One was packing away most if the medical supplies and the other was crouched next to an empty chair beside the bed where their mother laid, a damp cloth covering her eyes as she panted for breath.

Malik and Kadar stood in the doorway, paralyzed with anxiety as their gazes rested on the scene within the room. The medic, who was a woman, which gave Malik a mild jolt of surprise, beside the bed looked up when she saw them enter, and waved them over before gently speaking to their mother in quiet, hushed tones.

"Junah, can you hear me? Your sons are here to see you." said the medic.

"Mother?" Kadar asked cautiously as they approached.

Their mother began to whisper something frantically that neither Malik nor Kadar could hear. The medic, on the other hand, leaned forward so that her ear was next to their mother's mouth before nodding and gently removing the cloth from her eyes.

Her bloodshot, cerulean eyes flicked over to her sons' haunted, worried faces, drinking in their appearance hungrily, as they took in her weakened state, their faces etched with sadness as they attempted to remain stoic, although neither were sure if it was for their own sake, or the sake of their mother.

"We did everything we could," said the female medic quietly, next to Malik's ear. "But I'm afraid that there isn't much else we can do."

"Could you leave us?" Malik whispered.

The medic nodded, and tapped the second medic on the shoulder before the two of them vacated the room, leaving Malik and Kadar alone with their mother.

Hesitantly, Malik sat down on the chair next to her bed as Kadar crouched down next to it and held their mother's hand. Junah's eyes flicked back and forth between her two sons' faces, as if determined to drink in their features for as long as she possibly could.

"I'm sorry." she croaked weakly.

"Don't be." said Malik immediately.

"You have nothing to be sorry for." Kadar said, then added plaintively, "Please don't go."

"I love you." she said weakly, "Both of you."

"I love you too." said Kadar.

"I love you, mother." Malik whispered.

"I... I am very proud of you both." she said, "I want you to be careful. You-" she broke into a hacking fit, and the two brothers exchanged a glance before she continued, "You both deserve long, and happy lives."

"O-of course." Kadar stammered.

Junah nodded, before her gaze slid over to Malik. "Take care of your brother. Please."

"I promise." he said quietly.

"What, did she think I would just abandon him?" Malik thought sharply, "He's my brother. Sure we fight sometimes, but it's natural."

However, at Malik's words, their mother visibly relaxed. She sighed in relief and closed her eyes, whispering, "Thank you."

The three sat in silence for another minute, each feeling like they had something else to say. Kadar, in fact, looked like he was on the verge of speaking, when their mother inhaled deeply though her nose and released it through her mouth. She ceased moving.

Kadar had tears gushing down his face, and Malik pulled him close. He held his younger brother close, allowing Kadar's tears to dampen his shirt. Although deeply, agonizingly saddened, he did not allow himself to cry; he had to be strong for Kadar's sake. Malik was all he had now. He was all Kadar would ever have, now.

Sorry for the sad chapter, guys. Don't worry, though, the next one should have some humor. :)