Assassin's Creed: Alis Aquilae

Fourth

Altair scarcely had time to shield his eyes from the light when a sudden explosion of unseen power swept forward in a gust, knocking him back several steps despite his distance from its source. He flinched as his left leg protested against the sudden weight put on it, very nearly giving out from the force of the burst. Not even the Templar soldiers seemed prepared for the otherworldly show of energy, some giving audible cries of alarm as the eerie brush of wind that was not wind crashed through their ranks. However, the Piece of Eden's effects on them were merely slight repercussions, for it was Ezio who received the brunt of the blow.

Though the Masyaf Assassin was unable to see him through the persistent golden light, he heard the sharp cry as the other was intercepted mid-strike, felt the Florentine eagle screech in confusion as he was thrown forcibly back against the ground. The rapier was knocked from his hand, clattering across the paved stone and becoming lost under the crowd of nervously shifting guards. Turning towards his brother and shading his gaze with the edge of his hood, Altair saw him struggling to rise, though he seemed unable to, held as he was by strings of gold and incorporeal manacles.

Dark eyes slitted dangerously as he more than recognized the artifact's power and realized that he needed to protect his comrade. He turned sharply towards Borgia and ignored the burn of the ethereal light, falling to a crouch to keep his aim stable past the continuous pulse of energy. His fingers closed around one of the throwing knives pressed to his boot and, focusing on the epicenter of the sun-like glow, he flicked his arm. The knife left his hand in a glint and found its target with a resounding clatter of metal against metal.

Like a beast recoiling from a flame, the Apple seemed startled at the counter, retracting back towards Borgia in a hissing, subdued wisp. Altair regained his feet just as the armed men around them were collecting themselves, placing himself decisively between the fallen Assassin and his enemy and attempting to buy Ezio enough time to recover.

"You are not the only one who knows how to manipulate that artifact, Templar," he said, his tone cold as he readjusted his grip on his curved dagger and pointed it rather arrogantly at the foreigner.

"Altair ibn La'Ahad, I believe?" the black-cloaked man replied smoothly, casually running a finger across the Piece of Eden to inspect it for damage, but otherwise seeming unconcerned. "Well met, I'm sure."

The Master Assassin shifted, lip pulling back in a slight snarl as he heard his full title spoken by this stranger. "How do you know who I am?" he demanded, eyes flickering between the now quiet Apple and the bearded face of its new wielder. Behind him, he heard the foreign eagle giving a quiet oath as he clambered unsteadily to his feet.

"A new acquaintance told me you would be here," Borgia said, smirking and proffering the item in his hand. Altair eyed it, instinctively measuring the distance and wondering if he could reach it before the guards beat him back. Noticing this, the Templar returned it to his cloak, shaking his head but maintaining that infuriating condescending tone. "Supposed Master Assassin or not, I wouldn't try that if I were you."

"Hand that over now, Borgia," Ezio ordered tightly, coming up behind the Masyaf eagle and rubbing at his left shoulder that he had apparently wrenched upon his fall. "And I will consider killing you quickly." Altair glanced over at him and knew by his tone and stance that he was in some amount of pain, but nevertheless sensed his brother's anger still burning strongly, just under the surface. He wondered distractedly what this man had done to enrage him so.

The answer was a short bark of laughter, the mocking amusement reflected even in the expressions of the soldiers around them. "You are in no position to make demands, Assassin," the Templar reminded him, folding his arms over the crossed pendant against his chest. "Unless you have not noticed, you are currently in my territory surrounded by two score of my men."

Borgia tilted his head slightly as he looked at them; his eyes alight with tauntingly withheld information. "Besides, before you turn your attention to me, I would suggest you kill that ancestor of yours first. It will save you a lot more trouble later."

The Masyaf Assassin heard Ezio hesitate, unwilling to take the bait, but even he realized that he was curious as well. "…What are you talking about?"

"You will find out soon enough," the Templar commander replied shortly, waving an impatient hand like a father dismissing an errant son. "But right now I need to speak to Altair in private, my business with you can wait. Why don't you run along now, Auditore? My guards will not stop you."

Ezio hackled at this and started to reply heatedly, likely about to call him a rather rude name for treating him like a child, but the Master Assassin cut in. "Don't bother, brother," he said carefully, dark eyes not leaving Borgia. "This is not the time for talk. Rodrigo Borgia, was it? I do not care to discuss terms with a Templar. Either give us the Apple or we will take it from you."

"Do you truly think it is that simple?" Borgia asked slowly, shaded eyes narrowing as he took a few, rather tentative steps backwards. "Then fine, come fetch it if you are able. Guards, kill them both."

The twin eagles took the briefest moment to glance at each other, a message flashing between them, before taking flight simultaneously in opposite directions. Their first killings were landed even before the archers above them had loosed arrows from their bows, two unfortunate men falling to the ground with throats cut open and uniforms stained red. Several blades stabbed in their direction but none connected, the two Assassins having the advantage of skill and foresight, seeming able to anticipate both the shifts of their enemies and of each other even before they occurred. Aside from this, all but the bravest of archers even chanced to take a strike, most worried that they would hit one of their comrades due to the constant movement of their targets.

Despite motion being essential to make up for their lack of numbers, Altair limited his own steps as much as he could, only now realizing dully that he had reopened his wound with his misstep earlier. Gritting his teeth to distract himself from the pain, he knocked aside a halberd seeking to stab through his chest and lunged a little unsteadily forward. Mid-step, he pivoted swiftly to dodge a second swipe from a rapier and drove his elbow full into the first soldier's face, allowing a clear shot to his neck as his head jerked back. No sooner had he retracted the curved dagger, however, did two more men take the guard's place, each coming at him with broadswords.

One fell back howling as the Masyaf Assassin tore a throwing knife from his shoulder scabbard and flung it through the soldier's collarbone, but as he stepped to catch the other's sweeping strike on his short blade, he staggered, a bolt of pain shooting through his leg and weakening his stance. The metal clattered against his guard and came dangerously close to grazing his face, Altair giving a quiet grunt as he attempted to hold his ground. Just before the broadsword slipped from steel onto flesh, a white shape passed abruptly into his peripheral vision.

Ezio shouldered the guard away forcefully; dispatching him with a follow-up stab from a notched dagger he had apparently taken from another soldier. Hooded faces flicked towards each other, but there was no time for thanks, as their enemies wasted not a breath to attack, forcing them into motion again.

The Masyaf Assassin kept a careful eye on the foreign eagle from there, keeping guard on his left flank when he noticed Ezio favoring the shoulder he had injured when he had been thrown. Though the other had claimed to have been the only Assassin in the country, it was evident that this was not the first time he had fought side by side with another, for he too seemed to be watching Altair, compensating for his inability to move freely on his cut leg. Together, the two of them downed soldier after soldier, killing until the blood of their enemies began to flow thickly across the paved stones and into the sea, darkly staining the water amid the boats.

Moving thus, the Assassins were able to hold their own well enough, injured or not, but Altair realized a bit shakily that it was only a matter of time before they were overwhelmed by sheer numbers. Kicking out to distance himself from the guard before him, he turned his head, searching first for Ezio then for an escape route. The gate they had entered had doubtlessly been barred by now, but perhaps there was a way over the wall—

A sudden voice speaking in his ear made him jump visibly, the Masyaf Assassin stabbing out to the side where no enemy stood. Confused, he realized that he recognized Borgia's voice, accompanied by the distracting rush of nonexistent wind that signified the Piece of Eden's power. Was he using the Apple to speak to him?

"Allying yourself with Auditore will not get you what you desire. If you decide to finally think sense, return to L'Arsenale alone and I will be waiting for you."

Altair looked around for the man but was not surprised to find he was nowhere in sight. He snorted quietly to himself, wondering why the cowardly Templar was even attempting to convince him to listen. Perhaps the Apple was out of reach now, but they were far from finished. Another opportunity would come.

"Ezio!" he called out suddenly, rather startling the soldiers who had been attempting to take advantage of his temporary distraction. Assured that the other Assassin had doubtlessly heard him, Altair threw a last strike, jabbing his hidden blade forward into a man's gut and withdrawing it even before the enemy had realized he had been hit. Throwing the corpse aside, he rammed forcibly through the barricade of soldiers shoulder first and made a run for the far wall of the Arsenal, moving deeper into the boat port and snarling a little as he stumbled on his left.

Altair steadied himself and shook his short blade free of blood, sheathing it just as he heard the Florentine eagle catch up to him quite easily, he having the full use of both legs. "This way," Ezio said quickly, drawing up beside him briefly before turning on his heel towards a long, single-storey warehouse. Behind them, the enemy soldiers only took a few moments to gather their force and pursue them, their determination nowhere near as depleted as their numbers.

The foreign Assassin seemed not to notice them though, making for the peak of the low building and using a nearby barrel and pile of crates to gain the height without breaking a step. Altair lagged behind more than he would have liked, feeling his sweat weighing heavily on his robes as he dragged himself onto the top of the warehouse by the edge of its tiled roof. Despite his need to concentrate to keep his leg from giving out under him, it only took Altair a moment to see where Ezio was heading. Forgotten scaffolding hung from one of the nearby battlements, a platform hanging suspended between the parapet and the far side of the roof they were running across, about midway in height as well—a perfect path to the peak of the wall.

As they approached the ramparts, arrows began clattering about them, the archers finding them much easier targets now that they had drawn out of the crowd and closer to where they stood. With enemies both behind and ahead of them now, the two Assassins picked up the pace, presenting a more difficult mark. However, once again, numbers held the advantage.

"Merda-!" Ezio cursed roundly as one shot struck him in the shoulder, luckily only piercing his leather spaulder but knocking him off balance and dangerously close to the lip of the roof. Altair leapt forward, reaching out deftly and dragging him back in line before the Templar soldiers could reach him. The Florentine eagle stumbled forward a few more steps with his brother's help before he recovered swiftly, falling back into pace and impatiently jerking the wayward arrow out of his armor.

Altair was first to reach the suspended scaffolding, leaping for it with difficulty and clamping onto its edge, causing the rope that held it to creak and swing precariously. He rolled onto it and felt the foreign Assassin latch on as well, just behind him, catching the platform as it swung back in the opposite direction. Riding out the pendulum movements carefully, both eagles made it to the wall without further trouble.

Ezio took a moment to draw one of his own throwing knives once they had reached the stability of the stone battlements, cutting through the already aged rope of the platform they had just left to keep the Templar soldiers from following. The Master Assassin could not help but smirk as the guards behind them shouted rather unintelligibly in angry Italian as the two fled out of reach, but none below made a move to find another way to them. Some things were always the same, no matter the country.

Altair followed Ezio to the side of the rampart, ignoring the fast approaching archers who had drawn blades now and were attempting to reach them before they escaped. The Masyaf eagle hoped distractedly that there would be a tower or building near enough to the edge of this wall for them to reach for when they leapt, but he jerked to a complete standstill when he saw that all that awaited them were the hungry jaws of the sea. Oh Allah…

The Florentine Assassin had all but jumped before he noticed the other's uncertainty, and he stopped himself just in time, looking back at him in confusion. He clung to the edge of the stone parapet, staring at him quizzically for a span, before seeming to remember the similar situation from earlier that morning.

"You cannot swim." It was not a question.

Altair drew back a few steps and ground out rather defensively, "I will find another way to escape."

"There is none," Ezio said impatiently, throwing a glance towards the archers who were mere feet away now. "Isn't this what you call a leap of faith? Come on, I'm not about to let you die now."

The Masyaf Assassin met his gaze hesitantly, feeling his eagle still keening quietly in distress, before shaking his head and firmly throwing his fears to the wind. He took the final steps at a run and launched himself from the rampart, for once not leaving his fate to the talons of his own eagle, but to those of another.