Chapter Thirteen: Warning

She did not remember whether she had fallen asleep or not in that warm barn on the outskirts of Jerusalem. She did not remember whether the assassin had left without her or if he had stayed. She did not know what had happened to herself. She knew a few things, however. She knew she was in a room different than her own, in a house she had never been to before, tied to a chair in someone's bedroom. It was a wonderful place, very beautiful and very bright, but she was bleeding and in terrible pain, unable to enjoy the view.

"So you woke up, eh?" she head a man speak, causing her unfocused eyes to settle on a target. He was wearing that very familiar armor, that red cross she had seen on the lieutenant. "You are quite the beautiful creature," his voice had a very noticeable accent. Was it French, perhaps? "It's no wonder Aldrich took a liking to you." Aldrich, she was starting to miss him, even though she hadn't known him for long. "But to go as far as not wanting to turn you in, he deserves such punishment."

"What punishment?" she asked, agitated. She did not want him to get hurt, how could she possibly let something happen to him? She'd hurt many people and she'd lost even more, she did not want to add the lieutenant to the body count.

"Don't worry, willow, he will be fine. He'll just be demoted and maybe tortured a bit." The man replied, chuckling at the last comment. His face was hidden by the knight's helmet, but she was certain that a wicked smirk was pressed on his face.

"It's such a shame, really," he continued as he circled her, "he was one of the King's favorites. Can you imagine? He was his lieutenant without even been Grand Master. The King will be disappointed or won't he, Willow? What's going to happen next? I kindly brought you into my home, the least you can do is tell me a thing or two, though it's not like you have a choice, Willow. You are to become my little pet, right, Little Willow? Because if you don't, I'll make sure they both die."

"Don't call me Willow," Amira said, trying to sound confident, defiant. Her will had long been shattered and her morale had long been stripped from her. The man laughed, mockingly.

"But that's what you are," he said, approaching her. He kneeled besides her and took her face in his hands, "you are no longer a person. You are my pet, my willow. You don't exist, so forget about Amira. She's dead."

Silence came and darkness started engulfing the scene. It was shifting, turning into something completely different. She could no longer feel the restraints on her body nor could she hear the voice of such a detestable man. Instead, she could hear the voices of two men she was far from detesting.

"Where is she?!" the first voice called out from the darkness. The place where she was now was barely lit; a small candle was the only thing trying to give some light to the place. It was moist, however, like the cell in which she had been kept in Damascus.

"I don't know," a second voice replied. They were both in deep distress, one clearly showing it more than the other. The figures approach the small candle, finally allowing Amira to see them clearly.

"Damn it, Assassin!" Aldrich yelled, grabbing Altair by his robes, "the only reason I left her with you was because I thought you could protect her!" Altair pulled away from his gripped and started walking away from him though for a split second Amira could've sworn she saw a preoccupied look on his face.

"Don't walk away from me, you heathen! I could kill you if I wanted to!" Aldrich yelled as he followed Altair into the darkness. There was another source of light a couple of meters ahead, though, like the one they had already passed by, the light it emitted was much too faint.

"Then do it!" Altair snapped, stopping in his track to face the armored man. "If you are so confident that you can kill me, the go ahead and try. But, you won't, because you need me."

"I don't need you!" Aldrich yelled back, his pale face burning red with anger. "This is entirely your fault! How could you possibly think it was safe for her to –," Aldrich could not finish his sentence for Altair had decided to punch him in the face. He stumbled backwards, but never lost his balance.

"Silence," Altair said, though his words were unnecessary for the lieutenant had already shut his mouth. He was shocked by the sudden hit and by the realization of the way he was behaving that he no longer intended to say a word. "I'll find her, lieutenant, so just stay quiet." Altair's voice was completely different as he uttered his pledge. There was no indifference, there was no arrogance, it was actual concern. But what had happened that he would be worried? They started walking away, again into the darkness and with that the scene suddenly faded again.

The dungeons turned into gardens in a night of clear skies. It was pleasantly cold outside and there was nothing but the sound of the wind to disturb such peace.

"Do I always have to order you to bed?" again a familiar voice shook her, Altair was standing behind her as she sat on a concrete bench. "We are moving you again tomorrow. You should rest." His voice was as cold as usual but in the moonlight, his white robes and his confident stance made him look like a completely different person.

"I'm sorry," Amira muttered, "I shouldn't have –,"

"Don't worry about it, just go to sleep. As I said, we are moving again tomorrow." He interrupted her and just as he had swiftly appeared next to her he was starting to leave. But Amira sprung to her feet and dashed towards him, clinging to his arm in order to get his attention.

"I am really sorry, assassin. I didn't mean to say such a thing. I'm truly, very sorry." She was met his strong gaze with watery eyes. The guilt that had built up on her chest was much too heavy for her to bear. She had hurt him, she was sure, even though he did not show it. A soft smiled curved on his lips and he freed himself for her grip.

"It's okay, just forget about it." Altair replied and resumed his walking away.

"But –,"

"In the time that I've known you," Altair said, looking back at her, "this is only the second time I've seen you cry. As I've already told you, it's alright. Apology accepted." He said the last words with a hit of humor that caused Amira to giggle a bit.

"Good night, Altair," she said as he vanished from her sight though she knew that he could not hear her. It was the first time that she referred to him by his name. She could only hear the footsteps of him walking away. She stared at the skies above her refusing to move, it was peaceful just like it had been in her dreams. The night sky shifted one more time taking her to a completely different place.

This time the place was warmer, sunnier, and much brighter than before. But there was something very wrong with that place. There were people screaming, people running and there was blood all over the floor. Amira tried to figure it all out but suddenly a sharp wave of pain hit her. She couldn't move, she couldn't speak and she could no longer breathe. Her chest was aching, a pain she had never felt before was taking over her. She raised her hands to her face and saw that they were completely covered in blood. It did not take long before she realized that it was her blood what was staining the stone floor, it was her blood which was on her hands. It was her who was bleeding on the dusty floor. It was her who was dying on the dusty floor.

She could hear in the distance, somewhere between footsteps and shrieks, the sound of two blades hitting each other and the sound of flesh being torn and bones being crushed. There was someone fighting a few meters away from her but she could not distinguish who it was. She was too busy struggling to stay alive to notice such a thing. When breathing is the one thing you desire but the one thing that hurts you the most, life becomes meaningless. Struggling was futile, she was bound to die. No one with such a wound could even hope to live longer than a few minutes. She shut her eyes and tried to pray, to whomever might be there, to grant her some time. That's all she wanted, all she needed – time.

Her eyes were forced open again as the pain became much too terrible. By then, the fighting had stopped and the footsteps had receded. Everybody had fled and the guards that remained were probably dead, slaughtered. It was then that she saw some brown boots approaching her. The man wearing them kneeled besides her staining his white garments with the crimson substance. He took her hand and stared at her kindly. She could see his face. For the first time in a very long time, she was able to see the man's face and so she smiled. As she headed towards the realm of the dead she smiled, a tender and sweet smile. Everything started to fade again, not because the scene was changing, but because the play was over. As she was about to take in her last gulp of air a soft melody started playing in her head. A song she'd never heard before but she really wished she would've. A song with words she wish she could've spoken.

You were ever in my mind.
You were behind my soul each time I held it to the flame.
You were ever in my precious thoughts.
I never told you I needed you darling like a rose needs the rain.
How could you possibly know how much?
So I reach for your love like the moon and the stars - ever in my sight, ever out of touch.

But she'd never had the courage to say such things, and even as she died, she wouldn't have the guts to speak. She stared into his brown eyes, waiting for death to send her to sleep. But as she had managed to create her resolve, the scene changed yet again. The new place was familiar, warm and bright. It was a wonderful and peaceful place where she was happy – truly happy. It was really a shame she was never able to figure out just where she was.

"Wake up," Altair said, shaking her slightly. She had been sweating and groaning in her sleep and so he decided that he better stop her nightmare before it worsened.

He had managed to find the weapons she'd hidden, and was now fully clothed. His face was once again hidden by the hood, allowing only the silhouette of his lips to be seen. Amira's eyes widened when she saw him kneeling before her. Feelings, all of which she had been trying to repress during the three days he'd been unconscious, resurfaced the moment she saw that man. Relief, like the most potent drug, took over her, making her lose control. Without thinking about it twice, she jumped to her feet and wrapped her arms around Altair's neck.

She was crying silently – out of happiness, out of sorrow, out of anger. But as she clung to him, feeling his warmth against her skin, she felt alive for the first time in quite the long time. "Thank goodness, you are alright," she whispered, tightening her grip. Altair remained motionless, unsure whether he should push her away or just let her cling on to him. He sighed, frustrated by her sudden actions, but did not scold her or complain. He simply allowed her to hold him until she managed to pull herself together.