The middle east is almost entirely controlled by the Muslim. But they did allow Christians to live within their cities, though I'm pretty sure some were treated as second class. In this chapter, Asra is taken with the other children to a christian monastery. There is a weird thing about the high middle ages, but along the all Muslim controlled territory, there is like, a strip, a STRIP of land that has christian influences running from russia to the huns to the cascaus(er however you spell it) past the two rivers right into Syria. Eastern Christianity did not have a difference between temples for monks and nuns. They are in the city of Tehran, or by that area near Lake Urmia. The city has actually been relocated multiple times so I guess I should just say the area around Lake Urmia.

Other than that, if anything else bothers you, tell me :3.

Also, I changed somethings about Sabina from a few chapters ago where she calls herself a gypsy. That was quite ignorant of me, as she would not call herself that it was a name given to a people who is always moving. She would have called herself people of Rom. She is a Domari, or a middle-eastern gypsy. Her people originate from parts of India and they split from there, some heading into Europe, others heading into the middle east.

Janan helped us out of the wagon and we stumbled towards the city gate. It had been so long since we've been able to move our legs, as if we had forgotten how to walk. My joints ached and my knees wobbled as I moved. We all took glances at Janan from time to time, weary and uneasy. When we had left the wagon, we had seen the corpses of the kidnappers on the ground. The metallic smell of blood carried into our nostrils. The urge to throw up wrestled in my stomach and the back of my throat – but my belly only whined weakly, unable to do more than rumble in discomfort. The slavers that had given up their weapons were being taken with us into the city. I was relieved and uneasy at the same time. Though we were free from one captive, it seemed as if we were being taken again. Some of the younger girls had attached themselves to Janan, who took care of us and I would admit had Janan left us on those wagons alone, I would have been very scared. The sunlight even burned my eyes, which were heavy with the amount of crying I had done every time I thought of my parents and being who knows where from home.

The soldiers rode around us, they carried the corpses of the dead in the wagon we had rode on and they took the second wagon with them. Sabina walked next to me, offering me a hand which I gratefully accepted. Sabina was definitely stronger than many of us, her stance still tall and she wasn't tripping over her own feet like I was. Janan was holding a boy who was too weak to walk, his legs dangled from her arms. I could see feet's shuffling as my head was down, the joking man who had not impressed Janan with his sword tricks was walking next to her.

He seemed to be talking to her but was being ignored. I couldn't recognize the language he was speaking in. The children I sat with had different accents as well, some spoke a softer dialect and others had a sharper tongue but I was sure this man was speaking a whole different language entirely. Either that or I was too tired to understand words, was I hallucinating? The conversation ended as I saw a girl stumble and fall in the corner of my eye. He went to pick her up.

"They took something out of the second wagon. Something important I bet, would explain the amount of soldiers that came out to greet a random wagon." I believe Sabina pointed in front to indicate the wagon the slavers had been using but I did not lift my head, just nodding weakly as we passed through the gates. Moving my head just took too much effort right now. I just wanted to sleep, to lie down. My lips were blistering, the cut stinging and my throat parched. Even as Sabina spoke, I could hear the croaking in her throat as well.

"Ah, domine mi! My poor children!" Another language I could not understand. I only knew it to be a male voice.

Janan greeted the man, 'Raban' I heard. Their voices moved quickly, rolling off their tongues. The monk placed his hands on Janan's shoulders in greeting and then led us through the streets of the city. Paved in flat stones, the people were heading towards their homes as evening headed in. The pathway was no longer as difficult to walk on now that it was not as hot. I could not remember where I had misplaced my shoes, but every step on the sand had pricked my feet. The building we stood before was a grand one made of a stone with a soft hue of sand. The many windows had gentle arches in their center, the rooftops flat. A cross was carved into the main doors of the building. Raban knocked on the door and was greeted by a woman in all black, her entirety was covered, even her hair. Her eyes, surrounded by gentle wrinkles were piercing silvers much like Zahra's. Following her were many of the same attire. They took us from the dusty streets and led us inside the building. I hear words, words I couldn't understand.

"You are safe now, let the sisters help," Janan said. With those words did the children were less hesitant in entering. Who else were they to trust?

Wood plated the flooring, a modest adobe. The torches which are placed above the room were lit, showing the long hallway with many doors on its sides. There were other children in the house, they watched us from their seats – some in chairs others on the floors. Curious eyes, brown, blue, green, all watched. Again, I heard voices speak with each other. Some I could understand, some I could not. I could hear the words 'more' and 'lost' in the Arabic tongue but one word from the black clothed woman watching the children and they quieted down immediately.

Janan took the girls to the baths. Sabina was only holding my hand now, no longer needing to hold me up. The realization that I was no longer in immediate danger had given me some energy. I examined my current surroundings with interest. More women joined the room, helping the girls clean. Sabina let me go, to grab a wet towel to wash her hair and face. It only took a gentle tug and my Hijab came loose. I pulled on the string which I had tied my hair with. I tore at the strands of hair that clung to it, full of grease from the lack of washing.

"Janan," I asked, pleading. "Can you help me?

Janan walks towards me, and I indicate at hair that had become knotted with the string. With a soft laugh, she kneeled in front of me. She pulled out a pair of thin scissors from her bag. She cut the string in parts and slowly pulled them from my hair. Some strands snapped along with it but the pain was minimal. My hair fell on below my shoulders like black drapes covered in grease, dust, and dirt. I couldn't even tell how much oil came off onto my fingers when I touched my hair though, as my whole body was just as covered in dirt.

"There you go, Asra." Janan helps me take off the rest of my dress. "The sisters will have new clothing for you while these are washed."

As she picked up my clothing, something dropped onto the floor. With a clink, I saw the necklace that papa had given me after going to the marketplace. Janan noticed it as well, her eyes were curious as she picked it up. She glanced at the design for a moment before looking at me.

"Where did you get this?" she asked, her finger pointing at the design at the center.

"It was a gift from my father, I, I had forgotten I had it," I wrapped my arms around myself.

"May I hold on to this while you get clean? Do not worry, I will bring it back," Janan assured as she glanced at it one more time.

"What are you going to do with it?" I spoke quietly; any eyes that would watch would make me feel more exposed. The girls were busy though, our conversation was ignored by conversations others were having.

"I wish to show someone this. He is an old friend of mine." Gathering the rest of my clothes, she handed them to another lady and left the room.

"What was that about Asra?" Sabina asked as I sat down in one of the wooden baths.

A surge of water was dumped on me from behind. It was very warm and though sudden I welcomed every bit of heat the liquid was embracing me with. Just being in the tub with water made me feel reinvigorated and I looked at my arms, the dirt that caked the areas around my elbows and wrists softened and I rubbed them clean, quietly delighted.

"I forgot something my father had given me. Janan took it to show someone…" I trailed off, because I myself was not given a reason. Janan simply told me where she was taking it not why. I didn't want Janan to take it. The necklace was the last thing I had of my papa and though it could not replace him, I had nothing else. Janan would give it back, I'm sure.

"Sabina, do you know what language it is they speak?" I ask the brunette. She smiled; a single dimple once again appeared on her face while she smirked.

"They're speaking French and some other language. Mother calls it church language, but I don't know what it is."

"So the man who was speaking the Janan by the wagon was French?"

"No, I don't know what language he was speaking. Maybe that's why Janan was ignoring him. He was speaking a bunch of rubbish." Sabina leaned back against the wooden tub she was sitting in, sinking further into the water. She submerged herself into the water to clean her hair and then got up when she had finished. She leaned out of the tub to get a dry towel and I saw she had more than just one scar on her face. On her dark arms and shoulders I saw marks and small cuts. They were all small; the only significant nick was on her left shoulder blade.

She saw me look and I averted my gaze, embarrassed to be caught staring, quickly scraping at the dirt on my neck.

"Cuts happen when you decide to fight with your brothers and they shove you into a thorn brush," Sabina had stepped out of the wooden encasing and had wrapped herself in a wool blanket. I lean backwards to wet my hair, the soft soap scent drifted from the black strands. I rubbed my hair furiously, trying to get the grime to disconnect from my locks.

"Why would you fight them?"

"I was stronger, of course!" Sabina smiled with pride, her dark eyes were twinkled. "Well I was stronger until they started to mature too. Not to mention having to fight all three of them."

I imagined Sabina fighting her three younger brothers. It was not hard to see. I got out of the wooden tub and dried myself down. Sabina had already dressed and went to find me an extra piece of cloth to cover my hair. I wore the clothing given to me, a loose beige dress. Asking for a string to tie my hair, I then covered my hair with the extra fabric. Sabina's clothing was a grey color.

"I'm surprised the nuns are okay with you," Sabina noted as I finished placing my makeshit hijab. "You know, for being Muslim and all that."

"All children Janan- bring -are seen- as in trouble. We do not turn away." One of the sisters whom had overheard Sabina turned her attention towards us. I glanced at her. She spoke in a broken Arabic; perhaps she was born of here. She wore a cover for her hair just like those who follow Islam. She seemed no different from me in that sense. The thought didn't last very long as the warm smell of food immediately entered my nose. My brain recognized the smell of bread and my stomach quickly grumbled. I had been trying to ignore how hungry I had been, my stomach gnawing on itself but now that odor was so strong, I relished at the thought of eating. As we walked with the nun, she brought us into a large hall. There, we were given bread and a small cup of what looked like milk. I sat next to Sabina, who also eyed her food but had not touched it yet.

"We need to pray before eating," Sabina told me, her eyes were on another child who was told not to eat yet.

"Yes, we must praise Allah as well before a meal." I replied. I knew how long it had been since I've prayed at all, but it felt good to know that I have cleaned myself before doing so.

"Oh really? I didn't know that." Sabina raised an eyebrow at me before lowering her head as the voice of a woman echoed through the room. I still couldn't understand the words spoken, but closed my eyes and prayed as well.

"Bismillahi wa 'ala baraka-tillah (In the name of Allah, blessed by Allah.)" I whispered quietly.

"Christ our God blesses us your servants, our home, the food and drink before us for you are the Source of all blessings, now and forever and ever. Amen." I heard the words echo through the hall, then the sound of many fingers picking up their food.

"Bismillah."

I break the bread into pieces, eating each one by one. I couldn't open my mouth to bite onto the bread as it made my chapped lips blister in pain. My stomach welcomed the food. I sipped the drink in my cup. It tasted funny, mellow and sweet.

"It's almond milk." Sabina caught my reaction to the strange drink. "They dump a bunch of the nuts in water overnight and then take them out and crush them and it creates this." She picks up her cup. A rumble of conversation had started, after downing their food. I see Janan heading towards me. Sitting down next to me and Sabina, she hands back to me my necklace wrapped in a small cloth and I put it away, tucking it into a pocket.

"Feeling better I hope." Janan greets us. She had cleaned and changed as well. She tied her black hair in a bun and wore a beige top and dark green skirt that covered her feet. Following her was the man from before. His head was not covered by the navy hood he had been wearing. He had long black hair tied behind him and bright brown eyes set on his face.

"This is your friend, Janan?" Sabina says. I thought the same thing in my mind. This was the man she was ignoring halfway through the city. Janan scoffs.

"He is no friend of mine," Janan says, smiling as the man replied to her remark in a sarcastic tone. He crossed his arms.

"His mentor, our teacher, would like to speak with you Asra. So if you are done eating, we should go."

The man in the blue hood is oriental. Assassins' outside of the Levant assassins did not have the white style of clothing I believe until after Altair started spreading his teachings of being an Assassin, but they have existed throughout history. The item they retrieved from the second wagon is the Sword of Eden, end up with Genghis Khan which then leads to his assassination.