My feet thud against the ground, hand clenched tightly around a white and red flag. Breathless pants leave my mouth as my eyes search the twisting pathways of the village; I gulp, gnawing at the bottom of my lip as I try to find another novice who sports the mark of my team.

I hear soft footfalls behind me, and I curse lowly under my breath, shooting off in an obscure direction. My legs stretch widely, covering as much ground as I can as the scenery passes by in a blur. I can feel the person's breath on my neck, and I growl, quickly turning into a narrow ally way.

A soft curse falls from my pursuer's mouth, and I grin triumphantly as I scramble up one of the building's walls. Wasting no time, I quickly catapult myself across the roof of the building, eyes trained forward so I don't have to see the height.

My heart is thudding loudly in my chest as I run toward the fortress; my hand hurts from gripping the flag so tightly, but a small grin plays across my mouth as I imagine the sweet taste of victory.

Jumping across a small gap between buildings, a cry of surprise leaves me when Altair leaps out of a garden hut. A large, feline grin curls his lips as his arms wrap around me, dragging me to the ground. I growl and hiss as I struggle to get out of his hold, trying in vein not to release my grip on the flag.

He grunts as one of my punches lands before pinning my arms above my head; Altair huffs once, glaring down at me with amused golden eyes. He plucks the flag from my aching hand, giving me a cheeky grin before releasing me. I hop up from the ground, fully prepared to tackle him, but soon the novice is quickly running from me. "Thanks Malik!" He calls over his shoulder, waving the flag in victory.

I stare after him, feeling my cheeks colour with anger. My fists clench and unclench by my sides until a loud wailing curse leaves my mouth.

I moodily poke at the fattoush sitting in front of me; my glare earns me a concerned look from Kadar, his cheeks bulging slightly with his own food. He swallows loudly and wipes his lips with the back of his hand. "Um…brother?"

My eyes flicker up at the sound of his meek voice; a soft breath leaves my mouth and I sit up straighter, flashing a quick smile. "Yes?"

Kadar returns his gaze to his food, pushing the contents around in the lemon juice. "Is everything…alright? You seem angry."

I push my plate back and rub at my eyes with a fist. I stand swiftly, running a hand through my shortly cropped hair. "I'm not angry, I'm annoyed." Huffing lightly, I stride over to the open door. I look back at my younger brother, hand posed on the wooden entry way. "I'll be back soon, tell Hassan not to worry." I pause, regarding Kadar warily. "And please don't follow me."

I trail a hand over the pitted stone houses, the anger from earlier melting into embarrassment and annoyance. Kicking a small rock, I sit down on one of the stone benches lining the street. Leaning my head back against a building, my eyes slide closed, the dimming sunlight of evening highlighting the insides of my eyelids orange and red. A soft hum leaves my mouth, and I breathe in the scent of village life.

The guarded town has grown in the past four years of my living here; more and more people file through the gates, their stomachs swollen with hunger and their wounded festering with infection. Their homes were ravaged by the Crusaders, the brutes seemingly having no conscience while they went about slaying everything those people had. "The brotherhood is the order of Assassins sworn to protect innocents from corrupt leaders, and injustice." Sighing, I stand and run a hand through my hair, feeling that now wasn't the for such thoughts.

I began the trek back to my home, looking up to the pink and purple sky for a moment until my eyes stop on the source of my bad feelings.

Altair looks down from his perch on one of the taller buildings, his legs dangling from the edge. On his shoulder rests an eaglet who is chewing at a small scrap of meat the other boy is holding toward its beak. He lifts a hand in greeting, motioning for me to come up next to him.

With a confused look, I scurry up the side of the building; huffing slightly, I squeeze my eyes closed so not to look down. I feel a hand clasp around one of my shaking hands, tugging me up on the roof only to become a tangled mess of limbs with my rival.

The eaglet has hopped from the other boy's shoulder to sit on the roof, its large yellow eyes regarding us carefully while it dips its beak into the small leather bag most-likely containing food.

I push myself up, a light blush on my face while I look down at a laughing Altair. I cuff him on the side of his head, growling at the stupid grin he is wearing. "What did you want?" I spit, sitting with my back facing the open street.

Altair sits up, lazily crossing his legs. He shrugs a shoulder, holding out his finger for the small bird to hop onto. "I don't know…you looked like you could use some company."

The embarrassment and annoyance at him besting me during our training slowly evapourates. I look at the eaglet resting on Altair's shoulder and reach out to stroke my fingers down its slightly puffy back. The boy watches my hand as if it's a snake ready to strike; the tips of my ears turn pink from the stare until I draw my hand away, fisting it in my lap. "Is, um, is that your pet?"

Altair looks over at the eaglet, both pairs of gold flickering to me before the boy shrugs a shoulder. "There's a nest beside my window and the mother pushed this one out," His expression flashes quickly to sadness, but he sobers up immediately. "So…I decided to take care of it."

"Have you thought of a name?"

Altair blinks, an eyebrow raising while he looks up at the sky. "No." He hums, leaning back on his hands. I pluck the bird from his shoulder, startling it from its slumber; the eaglet nips the tip of my finger, causing a soft hiss to leave my mouth.

"How about Badar?"

The boy looks at me, a small mocking smile on his mouth. "'Full moon'?" He asks, voice laced with teasing.

I huff, cradling the bird close to my chest, eyes narrowed in a glare. "Sorry, that's the best I could come up with." Bastard.

Altair rolls his eyes, snorting softly. "I think I'll come up with a better name."

"Go drown."

"Soon you will be going through your first trial to becoming a full-fledged assassin." Azim paces down the row of boys, hands resting at his sides. "You will be giving a small sacrifice to the Brotherhood, and after that, you will begin your training with the hidden blade."

Excited murmurs bubble down the row; we all know that the hidden blade is an assassin's trademark weapon. With a sharp glare from Azim, the other boys silence their babble; the assassin turns on his heel, continuing to tell us about our trials.

I tune him out, looking down to the ground, pitted by numerous boot prints. "Malik." I don't realize that a shadow has fallen over me until I hear my name from above.

Azim has a slightly annoyed expression on his face; I hear the others snickering lightly, and I scowl at them before turning my attention up to my teacher. "Pay attention." He cuffs me lightly on the side of the head, and turns, telling us that our training for today has ended.

I glower as I rub at the slightly sore spot on my head. "Even Azim's favourite student gets yelled at." I turn to my snickering rival, a deep scowl dragging down my mouth.

"Like you're one to talk, Altair." I growl, hand fisting at my side.

The boy snorts, eyes narrowing to slits. "Shut it, A-Sayf."

I rest a hand on my hip, snorting softly. People have turned at our bickering; the older assassins seem annoyed, while the younger novices are whispering to one another, waiting for a physical fight. "Make me."

Altair lunges, fingers outstretched like talons. His hands wrap around my throat, his weight causing us to fall to the ground. My head smacks off of the hard dirt, a soft grunt coming from my lips.

I push him off, scrambling to my feet only to be barreled over again. "B-bastard!" Altair cocks back a fist, the knuckles digging into my cheek. He's sitting on my legs, and one hand is wrapped tightly around my neck; I'm trying to shake him off, but because of my smaller stature compared to the other boy, my body remains planted firmly on the ground.

The other assassins have crowded around us, some pointing and laughing while others shake their heads.

"G-get off…!" I wheeze, shooting a watering glare up at Altair, who's mouth has thinned to a line. My hand gropes the ground, looking for something to defend myself with; my fingers curl around a sharp rock, the edges cutting lightly into my skin with the force of my grip.

Swinging my arm into a high arch, the rock connects with a dull thunk; Altair reels back, crimson splattering from the deep cut the rock has given him.

He hisses, turning his face back to me, I notice that the rock has split his lip down one side; blood drips down his chin, causing me to smirk at my accuracy. I hope that hurt.

As Altair swings his fist back, he's pulled away from me by Azim. The assassin is livid, his dark eyes flitting between the two of us; he lets a breath hiss from between his clenched teeth, roughly shaking Altair by the collar. "You," He looks pointedly at Altair, "The master wishes to speak to you." The colour drains from the boy's face.

I scramble up from the ground, gently touching my neck where I'm sure there will be bruises later. I stick my tongue out at Altair, earning a heated glare from the boy, until Azim turns his wrath on me.

He grabs me by the wrist, tugging me away from the training field. Turning to me, the older man lets out a long sigh. "Malik, what have I told you about patronizing him?" Azim's eyebrows furrow, and he holds the bridge of his nose. I remain silent, looking down at my boots; a small frown covers my mouth. "With the fighting you two do constantly, I would be crazy for either of you two to take your first trial."

I snap my gaze up to the man, my eyes wide and my mouth open in shock. "A-Azim, no!"

Azim frowns, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Why should I do that? You two will just try and kill each other more than you do now."

I huff and look up at my teacher. "If…if I promise that we won't fight…and I get Altair to promise…will you please let us take our trials?" I clasp my hands in front of me, my eyes pleading.

Azim paused, sighing lightly as his resolve faltered. He places a hand on my head, lightly touching the lump that Altair had left earlier with the pad of his thumb. "Fine…but I'm going to talk to your brother about your behaviour." I mentally snort, but give Azim a large smile.

Alright. Chapter three! -Cheers- So more AltMal interaction, less Kadar (aw sad) and Azim reappears.

Yeah, time jumps will be happening. This chapter takes place four years after Malik came to Masyaf, so he's eleven, as is Altair, and Kadar is eight.

Next chapter will be when they're fourteen. (hormones -sings-)