Spoilers: Basically the ending of Assassin's Creed and the super awesome plot twist about Robert De Sable. Don't say I didn't warn you. Hehehe
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Chapter 5
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"Welcome home, my child," Al Mualim greets Altair warmly as the white hooded assassin steps up to his office.
"Another of the nine is put to rest," Altair says as he gives his master the slightest of bows. He pauses, and proceeds to ask in an uncharacteristically submissive voice, "A question, Master, if I may."
"Ask and I shall answer."
"Why these men? Jubair and Sibrand?" asks Altair cautiously. He already knows what answer his Master will give him. But he must be sure.
"Ah, do you not see? They pave the way for change. Insures threats both old and new are not given cause."
A question answered by a question. Al Mualim's replies have always been vague and ambiguous so his pupil no longer expect anything else.
"To weaken them is to weaken our enemy," Altair concludes, "I suppose that makes sense."
In his mind however, the gears of logic are quickly turning. To assassinate those two targets is needless. They hold no great positions of power, and is only vaguely connected to the Templars. His master is not one to condemn lives so easily, so to order their deaths is proof that there is another reason.
Altair can tell when Al Mualim will speak no more on a topic, so he decides to drop the subject lest he start arousing suspicion.
"I shall return to my work. The sooner this last man dies, the sooner I can face our true enemy."
And the sooner I can bring out those secrets you are hiding Master.
Al Mualim turns, takes a few steps towards him, and commands, "Before you go, I have a question for you. What is the truth?"
Altair pauses. He does not sense a trap, but it would be wise to proceed carefully. Most prudent course of action would be to give an answer that the master already expects and wants; nothing more.
"We place faith in ourselves to see the world the way it really is. And hope that one day all mankind will see the same."
"What is the world?"
"An illusion. One which we can submit to, admit to, or transcend."
"What does it mean to transcend?"
"To recognize that nothing is true, and everything's permitted," Altair quotes those words that Al Mualim has taught him long time ago, "That laws arise not from Divinity but from reason. I understand now that our Creed does not command us to be free. It commands us to be wise. I can see why the Templars are a threat. Where we the Brotherhood would dispel the illusion, they would use it to rule."
His Master nods sagely and replies, "Yes, to reshape the world into an image more pleasing to them. That, is why I sent you to retrieve the treasure. That, is why I keep it locked away. And that, is why you kill them. So long as one survives, so too does their desire to create a new world order. Take up your equipment, and seek out this last man."
Al Mualim turns to gaze out of the glass paned window which, for Altair, means a silent dismissal.
"It will be done," the assassin affirms and swiftly takes his leave. His mind is full of doubts though, as he recollects and dissects every word Al Mualim said. The piece of Eden is a controlling device. It works to win over men's hearts and to destroy freewill. The Templars want it to create a new world order, but it is now in the hands of the assassins. Once all who knows of the existence of the treasure are done with, then according to Master, the rest of humanity will be safe.
A thought suddenly emerges . Everyone who knows of the treasure's powers includes him and Al Mualim. Surely Master will not send an assassin-
Altair shakes his head slightly to dismiss that train of thought. However, the more he refuses to think about it, the more it festers on his mind. The moment he steps outside of the fortress and into Masyaf's countryside, he takes in a lungful of fresh air, breaks into a heavy sprint across rolling hills, and surrenders all thoughts to the feeling of wind, flowing through his finger tips.
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Out of the cooking pot and into the roaring fire. From one prison to another.
That is how Jin views her current predicament. There is no more freedom here in the Assassin's Bureau than in Mama Kathlum's brothel. Eyes are always following her everywhere, analyzing her every move and every sentence.
She is not surprised to find Altair gone when she awakens. But after waiting for hours, days, and then finally a week with not a sign of him, she has to face the truth.
He will not return.
She is certain he has abandoned her. He had made it blatantly clear that she is nothing but a burden, and so he takes the first opportunity to vanish.
She is now living in the Bureau, answering to the Rafiq and trying to make herself useful without perishing from sheer boredom. He gives her the occasional chore now and then, but the majority of her time she spends going about doing nothing. Or at least a good impression of it.
Jin has gone through too many predicaments to not know how to make the best use of her time. Since she is in a new, foreign environment with no contact with the outside world, Jin stays quiet and observes.
She learns that the Bureau leader is a potter. And a retired assassin.
His storefront, where he sells his various bowls, pots, and vases, is connected to the conservatory by a doorway that is hidden by a well-placed shelf.
If he is not in there, then he is in his office, which is an open doorway from the far side of the conservatory. His office has shelves full of books, scrolls, and various maps that are off limits to Jin. Which does not stop her from sneaking in anyways. To her dismay, she realizes she cannot read the text, for they are all written in a Arabic, and she has stopped trying ever since.
From the office, there is a hidden corridor which leads to their rooms. There are plenty of guestrooms, and the Rafiq assigned the one furthest down the hall to be hers.
The Rafiq goes to sleep in the late hours of the night, and wakes before dawn breaks. He receives visitors almost constantly, and always at unpredictable hours. Once or twice, she herself awakens to voices conversing sharply with each other in the darkness. She does not bother to eavesdrop on those conversations. The less she knows, the better.
After a few weeks or so, he finally allows her to venture outside. As a man of course, and with her distinguishing features, she must take care to cover her bright hair and most of her skin.
Not surprisingly, she finds herself always tailed by one or two Brothers. They would either be following her on rooftops, or twenty paces behind her on the streets. And they are always careful to not be noticed by her, but her years of experience on the streets have taught her well. She makes the effort to ignore them, and walks on seemingly oblivious.
Jin always almost goes to the bazaar. She is not stupid enough to go to the vendors she frequents or visit anyone that might recognize her. Especially Muhsin because even if news of her "death" did not reach him, there is no reason for him to speak of her in passing.
Instead, she purposely picks vendors in a random manner, and only buys herbs. All of her medicine, and dried herbs are lost in the fire. It is important for her to replenish her medical supplies.
Especially now, for it is a factor in determining how useful she is. She dares not think what will become of her if she should ever outlive her usefulness.
Despite herself, despite her righteous anger at Altair and her own situation, Jin still retains hope. Hope that one day she will be free of this burdensome life. It is because of that sentiment she faithfully gets up to work every day. It comforts her in those lonely, dark nights when tears of frustration wet her pillows. And it is because of hope, that whenever she sees a bird-shaped shadow, Jin will raise her head to search the blue sky.
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The sun is shining too brightly. The rays of light blinding the onlookers as they gather somberly around the gravesite.
"Allah graces us with such wonderful weather for Majd Addin's funeral, almost as if he agrees his life is a blight upon the world and his death is the salvation of it," a nearby commoner whispers to the monk standing right next to him. The white-robed scholar inclines his head slightly in agreement but stays quiet.
The orator is praising the late Majd Addin and his contributions. His voice, as well as his words, are as meaningful to his audience as the bland scenery. Everyone present at this small, modest ceremony knows that elsewhere, especially in the poor district of Jerusalem, the common people are celebrating.
For the tyrant is dead and so is his terror-ridden regime.
Whilst everyone's head is bowed for a moment's silence for the dead, the assassin's eyes are trained on one person and one person only: Robert De Sable. His last target and greatest nemesis.
The man is wearing a helmet that covers all of his face, but the Templar symbol on his chest plate, as well as his arsenal of guards flanking his side declare his office like a flag.
The announcer's next words however, catches Altair's attention.
"This creature clings to the shadows. And run from any who would face him fairly. But not today. For the one who sins stands among us. He mocks us with his presence. Seize him! Bring him forward for God's justice must be done!"
Even before he finished his speech, people were already regarding each other cautiously. The crowd parts in front of him, and Altair knows his cover will be blown.
He takes out his short sword and takes a defensive stance. Not a minute sooner, for the guards are upon him. They encircle him like hungry dogs around meat.
The assassin waits patiently, always with the cold metal between him and his enemies. His eyes never stays in one place, as they silently issue a challenge to the eager soldiers.
As expected, a newly appointed soldier, keen to prove himself, charges straight at him. Altair smoothly sidesteps the downward trajectory of the sword. His left hand shoots out and pulls his opponent in by his sword arm. With his right, he stabs the man two times in the gut.
He uses the limp body to block an incoming blow from his left side. He sidesteps again, blocks an attack from behind, and disarms that attacker with a sharp twist of his shoulders.
He dances a dance of death. One by one, they fall until one is left. In the now empty cemetery, Altair straightens up from his crouch to face the Templar.
Robert De Sable spared him no words as he attacks with a long-sword. His attacks are not strong, but instead his defense is more frustrating. The man favors slight feints and has such an unusual way of moving that it confused the assassin momentarily.
However, he eventually disarms him. The long-sword skitters across the ground, and the knight stands as he is.
"I will see your eyes before you die," Altair declares as he wrenches the helmet from the Templar's face.
To his surprise, a pair of intelligent but unfamiliar eyes glare back at him. Delicate, feminine features meet his searching gaze.
He is not Robert De Sable. No, she is not him. An imposter.
"What sorcery is this?" The enraged Altair demands. He is now cheated twice out of killing his one true enemy. Furthermore, to be fooled once by a woman in disguise is enough, but two times! It is almost too much for his pride to handle. His hand grabs her by the collar and gives her a rough shake.
It is all he can do not to mistaken those eyes for Jin's and that pale face for hers. Is girl so spiteful of his unannounced departure that she would follow him all the way to Jerusalem? Or to conjure up a spell to transform his target's face to a similar likeness of hers?
A woman's voice answers him. It is unfamiliar, and harsh. "No sorcery. We knew you were coming. Robert had to be sure he had time to get away."
"So he flees."
She stiffens at the insult to her...her what? The man muses on her relationship to Robert. What kind of bond does those two have that compels her to sacrifice her own life for his? She does not flinch from the assassin's cold stare and says, "We cannot deny your success. First the treasure, and then our men. Control over the Holy Land slipped away. But then he saw an opportunity. To reclaim what has been stolen. To return your victories to our advantage. It is not just Templars you'll have to contend with now."
"Speak sense," growls Altair. This female is getting on his nerves. Her attitude and lack of propriety is reminding him more and more of a certain someone.
Maria regards him carefully. She is surprised that this assassin cares so much for the truth. Ever since she entered this war, all she hears about are the barbarian murderers who are blood-lusty monsters willing to kill on sight.
Now that she actually faces one of them, she can see now they are more dangerous than the rumors say. This one is calculating, tacit, and deceptive.
Not for the first time, Maria is glad she managed to persuade Robert to leave her behind as decoy. He needs as many soldiers as he can get to make the journey to Arsuf, and nobody is as eager as her to give up her life in exchange for his. He needs to be safe. And she will do anything for it.
Now that she is powerless in the hands of the enemy, facing impending death, the last thing she can selfishly have is the satisfaction of revealing his approaching demise.
"Robert rides for Arsuf to plead his case that Saracen and the Crusaders unite against the assassins. Now that you have given them a reason to. Nine of them in fact. The bodies you left behind, victims on both sides You have made the assassins an enemy in common, and insured the annihilation of your entire order," she spats "Well done."
The hand gripping her chest mail clenches. She feels her body lifting off the ground and sees the blade emerging from his left hand.
Maria is not afraid of death. She will face it head on like she does for every obstacle thrown in her path. Her gaze is unwavering as she gazes down at the assassin. Taunting him.
Suddenly, his grip slackens. Her feet touches down on the soft earth.
His expression is still the same. Taciturn and inscrutable. But the blade that once protruded from his hand is now gone.
His voice is calm as he corrects her, "Not nine. Eight. You were not my target. I will not take your life. You are free to go, but do not follow me." He turns to leave, his white robe fluttering behind.
"I don't need to, you are already too late," she retorts.
His actions confuse her. Prudence, restraint, and mercy. They contradict everything she knows about these foreigners.
He gives her a look that infuriates her.
"We shall see."
The distant shouts of reinforcements reach her ears. She turns to see the clumsy score of men enter the gate to the cemetery. When she turns back to have the last word, she finds herself standing alone near the gravestones.
The white-robed man was gone.
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She is grinding something. The scraping noise of pestle meeting mortar grates on her nerves.
But she does not care.
The pulpy substance emits a strong smell. Astringent and sharp. Tears at the inner tissue of her nostrils.
But she does not care.
With a finger she disinterestedly swipes a taste of her unfinished project. Bitter, but with an addition of ground vanilla beans, the unwanted flavor can be covered.
Jin washes out her mouth with a nearby cup of water. It will not be wise to ingest her own poison. After all, she is saving it for someone.
In all her life, she has only created medicine to help people. This is the first time she has tried to mix a poison. A tool for killing.
But she does not care.
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The horse is foaming from the mouth. Its muscles bunch and ripple under its silver tipped hide. The landscape is passing by a blur, and yet Altair urges his horse to go faster.
His last conversation with Acre's Rafiq resurfaces within his mind.
"Ah, my friend, you are not meant to enjoy these grim tasks. Regret, uncertainty, sympathy even. It is to be expected."
"I… should not feel these feelings."
The older man shakes his head with a smile. He replies, "Embrace these emotions, for they are what keeps you human."
Not for the first time, Altair wishes he is not an assassin. Or at least, one who is free of emotions.
For it is regret that haunts him. Countless men that he murdered and all for one man's greed. Al Mualim, he no longer considers this man his Master, seeks to hoard the Piece of Eden all by himself. He has sent him to kill all those who know of the treasure's existence, and by the end of it all, he, the Master assassin, will be killed as well.
"I, your greatest enemy, kept you safe from harm. But now you've taken my life, and in the process, ended your own," said the dying Robert De Sable as he passed on in his arms.
Uncertainty quickly follows. For he is no longer sure of his just cause. He merely followed Al Mualim's orders and now he cannot deny the fact he is no better than a puppet.
"The people know not what they want. That is why they turn to men like us." King Richard 'The Lionheart' towered over him like a mountain, and when he spoke, his voice boomed like thunder. But the assassin's gaze did not waver or his voice less resolved.
"Then it falls to men like you to do what is right," Altair insisted.
And now, trailing behind all those emotions, appears sympathy. Sympathy for those he once mocked for not having control over their own lives. Now that he realizes he himself moves by another pulling the strings, he can identify with the apathy of ignorant people. The hopelessness of trying to climb out of the world's immoral pit.
"Nonsense!" King Richard argued, "We come in the world kicking and screaming. Violent and unstable. We cannot help who we are."
"No," he had answered with finality, "We are what we choose to be."
There, he had said it.
With those few words he permits himself to grasp the future in his own two hands. Arsuf, and the guilty deeds he committed, lays behind him. In front lays the assassins' stronghold, Masyaf.
It is the future that he rides to with such urgency.
He needs to resolve this with Al Mualim. He needs closure.
After he finishes with what he must do, then…it will all be over. He can then breath. The Brotherhood's sullied reputation can be restored. The mindless killing will stop. And then, perhaps, he can be at peace with himself at last.
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"Surely you jest! What you are saying is impossible!"
"Impossible perhaps. But it is done. Al Mualim was a traitor and at fault. Justice was dealt out in the only way possible, these two hands saw to it."
Muffled voices reach her through the darkness of the room. Usually, Jin would try to ignore it and fall back to sleep. But tonight, something about the urgency in the voices keeps her awake.
The Rafiq never sounded so shaken before. It worries her. And that other voice: a low rumble that leaves the aftertaste of a dangerous threat in the air, makes her uneasy.
She does not like her current situation very much, but she has grown attached to the Rafiq. Though not exactly a friend, he treats her kindly and fairly. If something were to happen to him…
Jin slowly gets up and takes the earthenware cup by her bedside table for the pretense of fetching water. She treads softly into the corridor and towards the slip of light emitting from the closed door. Edging closer, she can almost make out their words.
"The Brotherhood must be in chaos right now," muses the Bureau Leader.
The voice that answers him is grim and terse. "Malik is currently handling internal affairs at Maysaf. Words reached me that Saladin and his armies lost to the Crusaders at Arsuf. King Richard's next move will most likely be Jerusalem itself."
"So what are you planning?"
"The Brotherhood exists to ensure peace. Even if Al Mualim is now dead, there is no reason why the principle should go on being ignored. I shall meet with the leaders and do all that is in my power to avoid more bloodshed."
More muttering ensues. Jin settles herself into a more comfortable position by the door. There is something unsettling about the unknown voice. It is strangely familiar, but the door is preventing her from hearing clearly.
"Please, it has been months since you've last stopped by. There is a long journey ahead of you. Have a rest."
"Thanks, friend. But I must be on my way. There is no time to waste. I stopped by to warn you of the upcoming battle.' The older man chuckles.
"Always business with you, Altair. Fine, I will not insist then."
From her position behind the door, Jin recoils back from shock.
Altair.
She stands up from her crouching position, and immediately upsets the clay cup she has earlier set down on her lap. The cup drops with a hard thud to the ground, and then rolled to settle with an audible clink against the wooden door.
Jin curses in her head.
She lunges for the cup, and right as she straightens up, light explodes in her vision.
The door is open. Silhouetted within its frame, stands Altair.
Jin blinks owlishly. Her eyes does not adjust adequately to the sudden intrusion of light, so she cannot make out his exact expression.
Words escape her, as they always do when he is present. He says nothing either. Just stands there, and regards her and the dirty cup in her hand.
Jin doe not know how long they stood there. But the Rafiq peering from behind Altair finally decides to clear his throat.
"Ahem. Jin, I believe you should be sleeping right now."
The young girl nods dumbly. But still she does not move. She is definitely not taking her eyes off of the man right in front of her. Just how many months she has waited. Hope slowly drained out of her until she thought herself to be nothing but an empty shell; waking, sleeping, and eating mechanically.
With one look at him, everything changes. All those pent-up frustrations, overwhelming feelings flood back into her. In the jumble that is her heart and mind, one emotion prevails.
Anger.
Despite subconscious knowledge that she can never take down the assassin, Jin hurtles her small frame at him. With the only weapon in her hand, she brandishes the cup and makes to smash it at his face.
No such luck though.
He snatches her arm in mid swing. Twists it. She drops the cup to the ground.
His other hand comes up to stop her punch. She notes the difference in their size with despair. His hand, rough and calloused, completely swallows up her puny fist.
Not being gentle at all, he slams her into the wall. Pain shoots up from her back, but she refuses to cry out. One of his hand is holding both her wrists above her head, and she struggles to kick at him. A sharp jab right below her ribcage knocks all of the air out of her lungs, and she goes limp.
His tawny eyes gleams dangerously at her from underneath his hood.
"Enough," he growls lowly.
The girl glares daggers back at him. Resists the urge to spit at his face. That fierce and austerely beautiful face.
She seethes with barely contained fury, "Get your filthy hands off of me."
Altair scoffs. Weak, powerless at his hands, her threat is pathetic. She is like a defenseless kitten, hissing and spitting to no avail.
But an appealing one all the same.
The amber glow lights up her hair into a golden fire. Her hair, although short and chopped sloppily in the harsh daylight, is suddenly a mass of rich, luxurious curls. Her normally pale complexion is warm and blooming under his smoldering gaze. Thin, cherry colored lips beckon to him teasingly. And her eyes… dear Lord. Deep jade is staring into him, reflecting the light into gold flakes within their viridian depths and pulling him in.
They are drinking in the sight of each other. After months of drought, an oasis awaits.
No, not an oasis he amends silently. But a garden.
A loud cough from the direction of the office. Molten gold flickers in his direction for a second, but then dismisses him.
The Rafiq almost smirks. Seems like they both forgot about the other man in the doorway.
"Forgive me Rafiq. But it seems like I have left you with a bit of a trouble. Please allow me to teach this disobedient girl a lesson."
Without waiting for a reply, Altair drags Jin down the dark corridor, pushes his way into the only room left ajar, and slams the door shut.
Notes: I took a lot of original dialogue from the game. Why? B/c that's always a starting point from which I can work with.
I really didn't like how submissive Altair was in one of his later conversations with Al Mualim. I very much rather like to think that it was all an act b/c Altair begins to suspect his Master. And so wrote that scene in. hahaha I explain this b/c otherwise that scene would seem pretty useless.
+ 1 point for Altair for being acute and deceptive
I use the scene from Robert/Maria's failed assassination b/c it's another female he can compare Jin to. That and I don't understand why he decided not to kill her. It wasn't exactly a logical decision. She isn't exactly innocent, and she knew of the treasure's existence. She knows too much actually. Suggests of him giving into emotion... again.
-1 point for being irrational and failing to destroy a security issue
+1 point for showing mercy like a human being
Added a scene in which I have Jin mindlessly doing a chore, but at the same time planning something devious. Suppose to contrast with Altair's adventures, in which he travels around and have novel experiences, but she is still trapped within a cage. But not helpless.
+1 point for Jin for being active and conniving
I chose to skip scenes from Robert De Sable and Al Mualim's deaths b/c they are pretty much straightfoward. I like a few quotes and will use them later. So instead I take lazy way out and write a scene btw Arsuf and Maysaf. So there's a complete skip of time from that scene to the next, in which Altair planned to confront his Master to Altair having already killed him.
-1 point for abusing his horse
And lastly, he originally wanted to pay the Damascus Rafiq a quick visit to warn him of stuff while avoiding Jin. However, she wakes up to find him anyways. A lil cliffhanger at the end b/c chapter was getting too long. (And for you nasty ppl to imagine what will occur behind closed doors.)
+1 point for Jin for being able to catch Altair in the short time frame he is in Damascus
-1 point for being clumsy and thus resulting in a most awkward reunion
Final results:
Altair: 0
Jin: 1
Sorry if the time seems like it is skipping around. But there should be a long passage of time, several months in fact, after Altair left Damascus. In which he went about his assassin duties, kills his own Master, and begins to rebuild the Brotherhood. That's as far as the actual game plot line goes. Now I shall have absolute creative liberty for what happens next! muahaha
According to Wiki, Richard the Lionheart won the battle at Arsuf. I can only assume it was after he meets Altair. Anyone who can prove otherwise, please do.
And I wrote all of that just so I can break the 5,000 word count. Woot!