Note ~ Thanks yet again for reading, everybody! It's you guys who make writing this worthwhile. ^.^

SuddenSummerStorm ~ I will be honest about the Arabic thing. I type what I want into Google translate, listen to it, and type it out phonetically. That is the extent of my Arabic. :P Also, I must say that I did a serious facepalm when I realized that about Sarah's name. There's not much I can do to remedy that duff-up, so I urge you to just roll with it. And yes, Zafar was just being Zafar. :D Apart from all that, thank you so much for reviewing!

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"Send it."

"What if she doesn't find it?"

"Have a little faith."

"And Altair?"

"He's got something planned."

~.~.~.~.~

"So what do you think, Altair?" Faruq asked. "Should we continue on our way?"

Altair shook his head decisively. "No. We could all use this time to rest a little. Besides, we are still disguised."

"But if that woman rallies a rebellion, we will be doubtlessly be involved."

"True, but that is a risk I am willing to take. I must speak with this woman."

"Do you remember her, Brother?"

"I do…"

Sarah stared at the two Assassins awkwardly. They shared a memory of the storyteller that seemed to bar down on them like an iron rose. But Altair appeared to know something that Faruq did not. He would gaze in the distance in-between thoughts and mouth some inaudible stream of words, then snap back to the moment again. It was like he was switching between two different folds of time, constantly flipping his consciousness between them.

"Altair?" she finally asked.

"Yes, Shabah?"

"Are you alright?"

Altair stared at her blankly. "How do you mean?"

"You just seem kind of…distant."

"I assure you that I am perfectly fine, Shabah."

Sarah looked unconvinced. "Okay, then..."

"Anyway," Altair continued. "We will stay here for the night and move again at dawn."

"Looks like the sun is about to set," Faruq commented, observing the coloring sky.

Strange purples and scarlets creeped upon the clouds as they twirled in a sharp chorus of stone. It seemed as though they were protesting against the sunset, using all of their power to prevent it by petrifying in the sky.

"Do the Templars move at night?" Sarah asked.

"I couldn't say, Shabah," Altair sighed. "It depends on the knight in charge."

"So shouldn't somebody keep watch?"

"No. We are not so exposed this time, so it should be safe to sleep through the night."

Sarah nodded quietly and planted herself in the sand beside the stable. Faruq busied himself with grooming the horses while Altair set out into town to find the woman Assassin.

He scanned the darkening village for her presence, which seemed to shine with a luminescent light. She sat at the well, gazing prophetically out towards the clouds, her body swaying only slightly with her breath. At first glance, one could have taken her for a doll, a broken, weathered doll. Like Sarah, most of her senescent visage was concealed by thread, but Altair did not need to see her face to know that she was the same storyteller from his childhood. She had the same quiet poise that drew her into an independent light no matter where she stood. In this case, she was a beacon.

Altair approached her with his own quiet swiftness and stood beside her at the well, following her gaze to the sky. She seemed to take no notice.

"It has been many years," Altair remarked casually.

"You know why I am here," she said simply, without turning her head.

"I can guess."

"How long do we have?"

"A minute, maybe two."

"That's long enough. I'm glad I was able to get Faruq's attention. You need to swallow this," she directed, presenting a minuscule dark seed from her pocket. "You must do it quickly, else they will detect it's conductivity."

Altair nodded and slipped the small tablet from her palm and into his mouth, swallowing crookedly. He scowled for half a second before gaining his composure again.

"How long has it been?" he asked huskily, a foul taste still lingering in his throat.

"A little more than a week."

"How long must we wait?"

"We must remain dormant until they reveal themselves."

"And what of my body?"

She hesitated, her eyes taking on a searching expression. "You should return to your duties, Assassin. The sun has set too far already."

Altair stared at her questioningly for a few seconds before he understood her meaning, taking on his previous demeanor. "Safety and peace, Cala."

She looked at him then, her starless eyes overflowing with longing, like there was so much she had left to say...But they were out of time. "On you as well, Altair."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The moon was already reaching to the sky when Altair returned from his meeting with the strange woman. I stared at him curiously as he strolled warily towards the stable where Faruq and I sat. A part of me was still nagging about how odd he was acting. What did he want with that lady anyhow? It was like he knew something he shouldn't…

Faruq started at his Brother's approach, shuffling to his feet, then nearly toppling over again as his wound pained him.

"Faruq," Altair began, his voice lowered to a dark tone. "Do you suppose there is a smith about?"

The Assassin glanced at the sky thoughtfully. "I do recall seeing one, Brother, but I am not sure if he is still working."

Altair turned his attention to me. "Shabah, it would be best for you to get some sleep, now. I'm sure our host and his wife have already prepared your bed."

I stared at him in disbelief. It must have been somewhere around six o'clock. There was no way I was going to sleep that early. I was certain that he just wanted me out of his worries so he and Faruq could go browse for weapons at the smith's. Well, he was not going to rid himself of me so easily.

"I'm coming with you," I argued. "It's too early to sleep."

"Most of the village have retired to their homes," he retorted, slightly agitated. "Please, Shabah. We have little time to waste."

"And I have little tolerance for going to bed this early."

"It might be best to get her a weapon as well, Altair," Faruq broke in calmly. "It will be a while before we get to Masyaf."

Altair sighed and waved me over as he followed Faruq in the direction of the blacksmith. When we finally arrived at his small workshop, there was only a dim candlelight illuminating his window. We could also hear the distinct sound of giggles and heavy breathing echoing from within. It didn't take us long to discern what was going on.

Faruq knocked twice on the door and we patiently awaited a response. My cheeks burned with color as the noises got louder and I attempted to shroud my face in the lengthening shadows. Why did we have to come at a time light this? Couldn't we just turn around and leave? It was obvious the blacksmith was not…working at the moment.

Before I could express my protests, Faruq landed another three knocks on the wood, much louder than before. This time, they were heard. There was a agitated bustling sound, then the tugging of fabric. I glanced over at Altair. Only his lips were illuminated in the candle's range, but I could detect the slightest hint of a smirk on them. He and Faruq didn't seem to mind that they were interrupting. In fact, they seemed to be almost entertained by it.

Suddenly, the door was flung open with furious tension, revealing a very sweaty, hairy man with a long nose and slanted, glistening eyes. He held his unfastened breeches at his waist and glared at us menacingly.

"What do you want?" he snarled, his voice deep and guttural.

I flinched a little at his tone. Were all blacksmiths this intimidating? Unlike me, Altair remained rooted in place, despite the threatening stance of the man in the doorway. He also managed to keep his voice composed, which seemed to irk the smith.

"We would request your services. You are a smith, correct?" Altair questioned.

"That I am, but you'll have to come back tomorrow. I'm a little busy at the moment."

Altair reached in his waist pouch and presented another one of those leather purses that jingled with coin. "Make an acceptation."

The burly man eyed the bulging pouch, then the three of us, then the pouch again. I also stared at Altair's bargaining chip. How much money did he have? He just seemed to pull it out of nowhere and use it to get whatever he wanted. I had been more familiar with the 'kill everyone and move on' tactic. It was possible he was just trying to do everything with a minimal amount of bloodshed, for all our sakes.

Finally, the blacksmith sighed heavily and held up a hand. "I would have you wait out here for a moment," he said resignedly.

Altair nodded and the man disappeared back into his home. There was an angry huff from within, followed by what sounded like an insult from a phantom female's throat. Soon after, a woman with skin darker than Altair's and less clothing than a caveman stormed out of the house and stalked on down the sandy path. Altair and Faruq looked after her for a moment before turning back towards a chuckling blacksmith.

"She'll be back," he jeered. "Now, what is it you need exactly, Sadiqi?"

"We require weapons," Altair said simply.

"Ah, well I'm sure I have something suitable. Come," the smith beckoned, motioning with his arm.

We followed him into his workshop, which was mostly covered in thick shadows. Only the corner with his forge was illuminated, which was also where the small candle burned. I stared in interest at his metal-working setup. He had a spate of tools, some large and some not so, hanging on hooks upon the wall and his forge glowed with an inexhaustible orange hue that would dim and spark dynamically. There was a barrel of water beside his anvil that smoked with cooled metal.

"Now, what exactly did you have in mind?" he asked.

I marveled at how incredibly deep his voice was. It held a unique fluctuation that sounded almost melodic as he spoke, more like he was singing than speaking.

"Longswords," Altair replied. "But we need light ones."

"No such thing as a light longsword, friend," the smith chuckled.

"Do we look like novices to you? I do not refer to feathers."

The smith nodded. "Well in that case, I do have a couple of light longswords."

He sifted through his selection until he found what he was looking for: two stunted longswords with thin tips and gleaming hilts. He lay them, along with their sheaths, on his worktable and folded his arms across his chest, waiting. Altair and Faruq scrutinized the weapons approvingly. As for me, I stood in the shadows and watched. I did not belong in a blacksmith's. The closest I had gotten to swords were the replicas that my brother was so fond of. I could barely even open a jar of jelly, much less hold a weapon.

"These will do," Altair remarked, running a finger along the length of the blade. "We will also need a dagger. This time, I do mean feather-light."

I glared at him. There was no doubt he was speaking of what would be my weapon. Of course he was right, but I couldn't help but be a little agitated.

The smith turned back to his swords. "It's not often that I see men of your…prestige in here," he commented, whirling around with a thin dagger in his hands. "My last customers were those rotten knights who swept through here." He lay the small weapon on the table and Altair nodded, dumping a large sum of coins beside the three blades.

"Do you know where they are headed?" Faruq questioned.

The man shook his head. "That I don't. I tell you, though. One man's coin is as good as another's, but I sure don't like catering to those scums' needs. They just ravage through the village until they get what they want, and then move on down the road."

"But they pay?"

"Na'am. But even so, they still act like animals."

"You have our thanks," Altair interrupted. "We should be on our way."

"Wadaa'an," the smith smiled shortly. "Your patronage is appreciated."

Altair and Faruq claimed their weapons from the table and hitched them to their belts. Faruq snagged mine as well and we made our way back towards the stable master's home. Only when we were a considerable distance from the smith did he hand me my blade. It was heavier than it looked and I nearly dropped it on my foot trying to grasp it.

"Thank you," I breathed, observing it in the moonlight.

"Do you know how to use it, Shabah?" Altair asked doubtfully.

"Not exactly…"

He sighed and rubbed his temples. "Then I suppose you will need some lessons."

"Lessons?"

"When we get to Masyaf," he clarified.

"But what if I need it before then?" I challenged.

"I think it's safe to assume you know which side is which. That should be enough for now."

He spoke as if I would be needing it in the future, like there was some battle that we had to prepare for. I yawned heavily and snuck a glance at the moon. It was nearly full, its belly shining gleefully down on us in the blackened sand. I had never experienced such a watchful night sky, nor such a glimmering moonlight. It was just as magnificent as the noontide sun that threatened to swallow everything up in its heat. The desert truly was a place of exuberant brightness.

It was so unreal to me, being so unlike the atmosphere of my home. I began to wonder if Altair had any idea what forests and maple trees looked like. It seemed wrong to think of him standing on a mountain with moose and black bears. He belonged in this place, as did Faruq. Watching them meld with their own home made me miss mine even more. I longed for my time with my family and my moon.

I barely noticed when we arrived at our destination. "We will see you at sunrise, Shabah," Altair said, tugging me from my thoughts.

I nodded dreamily and wandered into the stable master's house as the two Assassins made their way toward the stable. Inside the home, the small man and his wife were already asleep, snuggled up beside each other in their bed, which was mostly concealed by thick drapery. I used the moonlight that shone through the windows to avoid tripping over loose pots and utensils as I found the way to my own bed, which looked quite desirable in comparison to the stack of rugs Zafar had provided for me.

I curled up in my single woolen blanket and slid into a slow rhythm of breathing as I tried to empty my thoughts. Thinking of my home would not help me sleep. After several minutes of struggling, my exhaustion finally got the better of me and took me into its arms.

~.~.~.~.~

It was my dining table, just as I remembered it. My family was sitting happily in their usual seats, smiling up at me as they beseeched me to join them. I stared at them with so much longing I was sure that I would melt. Part of me knew they weren't real, that I was just imagining, but I wanted so badly to join them, to sit with them again.

I was just about to move into my empty spot when Altair strolled into the room, giving me a grievous look. My family didn't seem to notice his presence. They just continued in their bliss. But when I looked back, I saw their faces morphing into blurs of unrecognizable flesh and their bodies crumpling over the table. I tried to cry out to them, tried to call their names, but my voice was gone.

Desperately, I looked to Altair, who was watching the sight sadly. He met my gaze and a small tear inched its way down his copper cheek. He reached out to me, and I saw a thin blade in his hand, like the one on his wrist only without its bracer.

I lay my palm over the weapon and felt its metallic chill pierce through my veins. As I did so, the melting bodies of my family exploded into a sea of blood that stained the room, as well as me. Altair gripped my hand against the blade as I tried to pull my voice from wherever it had ran. I tried so hard to scream as my eyes gushed over with my own blood, spilling down my cheeks in an endless fountain of crimson tears.

Then, it was gone. The room and the blood had become an infinite expanse of light. I squinted in its glare as my tears turned clear again and splashed on the whiteness beneath me. I closed my eyes in submission and dropped to my knees as Altair released my hand. When I looked back at my palm, the seal of the Assassins shone back at me. Blood began to seep from its lines and traced the veins of my arm until it reached my elbow, where it took the shape of an eagle in flight. I felt Altair's hand on my shoulder as the ground disappeared beneath me and sent me plunging into a sea of darkness.