The hours passed, constantly tugging on my legs to bring them down. But on I walked, traversing this long stretch of sometimes-rocky, sometimes-sandy cliffside. There had to be a house or a stable around here somewhere. At least, that was what I had hoped. Now though, I could see nothing, only grainy breezes and a dim, gray sunrise.

This world was so different from my own. Anytime I really started to think about it, a cool fog drifted over my thoughts, making it all seem so much like a dream; a really horrible realistic dream that I could not wake up from no matter how hard I tried.

The only thing that kept me pinned to this reality was the suspicious black device that dwelled in my pocket. That ipod was proof that I was here. It was proof that I did not belong here too. And yet, somehow it did not seem like the same one I had had in my own time. There was something different, something sinister about it, like it was an entirely new mechanism.

"Ho!" a voice called from behind me, followed by the skidding of several hooves.

I jumped, not used to any sign of human life since the Templar camp. When I turned to see just who had intruded upon my ponderous walk, my heart leapt with joy.

Smiling at me from atop a rickety wooden carriage sat a bulky, well-fed old man. He wore no sign of alignment, Templar or Assassin, but instead a striped blue and green robe lined with several leather pouches.

"Hello!" I cried, apt to trust this man solely on account of my grumbling stomach.

"Good day, little lady!" His voice was so young, existing in such bright contrast with the deep grooves of his face and the snowy beard falling carelessly to his chest. "You headin' to Damascus?"

So this road went to Damascus then. I had always liked that city in the game, and I could not help but wonder what it would look like in…real life.

In any case, this man's tone seemed to indicate a proposal, one that I was really itching to accept. "Y-Yes. Yes I am," I smiled back. "Umm…Would you be willing to take me there?"

I continued to smile, inwardly worried that I had read him wrongly and he was not going to offer me a seat in that glorious carriage. But my fear was unfounded.

The old man nodded in good humor, "Come on up, helwa. It does not do one well to deny a service to a beautiful lady such as yourself." He bowed cordially in his slouched position.

My head swam with possibilities. I had no idea what I was doing anymore. I only knew that I wanted to go home, and riding to Damascus with this stranger seemed like another stepping stone to achieving that goal.

I hoisted my groggy body up into the welcoming wagon, groaning slightly as my muscles strained painfully. I stood awkwardly for a moment while the old man cleared a space for me in his mess of crates and bags. Was he a merchant of some sorts?

"There we are," he grinned, patting the empty wooden spot beside him.

I plopped down on the pale seat as gracefully as I could, despite my weight threatening to betray me in its exhaustion. "Thank you," I said lightly. "Thank you so much."

Just as I was reveling in my politeness, my stomach rebelled against it and growled heinously. I groaned. I really needed food, but I did not want to look like a beggar, albeit my savior would throw me from his sight and I would be alone again. I wrapped my arms around my abdomen in an attempt to quiet its complaints.

"Ah, are you hungry?" the old man asked, his tone completely devoid of conviction or distaste.

I hesitated, "W-w-well, I…"

"Not to worry, habiti. I have plenty of food around her somewhere."

I smiled with immense relief. This man was a godsend! He rummaged through several sacks that lay at his feet until he found what he was looking for. He straightened, holding a small lump in the air to examine in the dull sunrise.

"You will like this," he mused, handing it to me casually. "It may not be what the nobles eat, but it's pleasurable just the same. You won't find any merchants who sell it around here." He smiled to himself and grabbed his abandoned reigns.

I observed the small piece of who-knows-what that he had given me. It was rough, brownish, and smelled like fruity pizza. I laughed inwardly at this thought. That was one thing that I missed immensely, but I would have to do this little dusty lump for now.

"So what is your name?" the old man asked calmly as we started off down the slowly, brightening cliffside.

I stopped mid-bite at his question, debating on whether to continue or not. Eventually, politeness got the better of me, "Sarah."

My name sounded so strange in this world. It was like tossing a bowl of dust into the wind that would be easily swept away. It simply did not belong, and it had been so long since I had heard it last.

"Sarah, eh? My eyesight isn't what it used to be, but I thought you looked a bit out of place in this countryside. Am I right?"

I paused, remembering Husam's prodding at where I was from. "I…Yes, I am from England," I lied.

So what if it wasn't true? Who was going to believe that I was from America? Nobody here even knew that it existed yet. Well, maybe Altair did after seeing it in the Piece of Eden, but I doubted that he was able to fully comprehend what he saw.

"Ah, England. I have never been, but I hear the weather is…nice," he smiled, keeping his eyes straight ahead. It was obvious that he was not trying to sound ignorant or rude, but I had never been to England either.

"Umm…It is," I said as convincingly as possible, hating the awkwardness of the conversation.

I really wanted to dig into my mystery meal, but it seemed that this man was more concerned with chatting. I had never been one to chat, on account of my uncanny ability to say something that my conversing partner could not respond to, thus ending the get-together on a rather dull note.

"My name is Zafar," he added abruptly, yet still with his unfailing relaxed demeanor. "Named after my father, the Great Zafar of Basket Weaving!" He thumped a free palm against his chest and grinned.

I took advantage of his distracted excitement to finish my long-forgotten bite. While I chewed on the crumbly brown mass, Zafar laughed contentedly at his own joke. The lumpy thing was better than I'd expected but worse than I'd hoped. It had a dry, unsatisfactory taste that only served to make my throat wheeze. Nevertheless, it was food, and I was in no position to be picky.

I swallowed hard and cleared my throat, "Are you a basket weaver, too?"

Zafar burst into his young chuckle again, "No, no, habiti. I am no basket weaver." He cocked his head a little to look at me through the corner of his eye."My profession is far more rewarding than basket weaving."

"Oh," I mumbled, taking another bite of my brown wedge of nourishment. Judging by his tone, his 'profession' most likely involved something illegal, and suddenly my food tasted a little more foul. "What do you do, then?"

"Oh, a little of this and a little of that. It usually has me traveling a lot, which is why I have this carriage. Those damn guards are always trying to take it away from me though. Something about providing transportation for outlaws."

"So, are you going to Damascus on business?" I asked as innocently as I possibly could, not wanting to make him upset.

He turned his eyes back towards the road ahead and smiled, "No. I live in Damascus, the wondrous city of dust and carpet. Why are you heading there? It's not often that I see a young woman such as yourself wandering these roads alone."

I froze, not wanting to tell him why I was alone or where I had really come from, "I…I got separated from my horse…I-It was stolen."

Zafar huffed angrily, "Those damn guards! It must've been a rough ride, by the looks of ya'."

I nodded mechanically, realizing that I must have looked like a mess after being tossed around like Flat Stanley across this sandy wilderness.

"Well, no one'll be ghabi enough to try to commandeer these steeds, so don't worry."

A crisp silence fell between us, giving me time to 'enjoy' my food as the sun grew larger over the horizon. I was going to be in Damascus soon, but then what? Where would I go from there?

Without any warning, the sun burst bright over the mountains and blazed in my eyes. I flinched a little, but quickly smiled at its warmth, remembering Altair's sun-soaked quarters. Maybe he was looking for me right now. After all, he had promised to protect me. I only hoped he hadn't given up for want of 'forgetting I was ever here'.

My thoughts were slowly banished by the rising light, which made me curiously drowsy. Soon, all that was left of my consciousness was the sound of hooves landing rhythmically upon the sand below. Sleep welcomed me warmly into its arms.