Altair spends almost an entire year in Masyaf, and during that time, nothing strange happens at all. At first, it's frustrating. There are questions he still wants answered, and he's worried for Desmond. But as time goes past, the frustration fades to numb acceptance. He's had a glimpse of the future that most men could only dream of, and if he still doesn't know how it all turns out, maybe it's for the best. Maybe it's just how the world is supposed to be. As for Desmond- that takes Altair longer to sort out, but he decides eventually that he must be dead. And as an assassin, Altair has seen many people die. He moves on. There are things he needs to do, and having seen the future, and the state of the assassins there, he is more determined than ever to do them.
The order grows strong again, and for a while, life is peaceful- or as peaceful as life can ever be for a group such as this.
One evening, Altair wakes in the middle of the night to find that the world around him has changed. The first thing he notices is that it's colder than when he went to sleep. He can even feel what might be snow, falling around him. He opens his eyes, and for a second, he can't understand what he sees there.
He's clearly still in Masyaf. The place has been his home for many years, and he can recognize it, even as he sees it now. Falling down, abandoned, dark and empty. He knows, as soon as he opens his eyes, that he has traveled through time. Time is the only thing that could have destroyed Masyaf quite this thoroughly. The only question is why he is here. With Desmond dead, he has assumed that the rest of his life will be spent the same was as everyone else's- one day at a time.
It could be that Desmond isn't dead- time in the twelfth century never passes at the same speed as it does in the twenty first. But still- it's been nearly a year. A few weeks, maybe a month. That he could understand. But nearly a year has gone by. If Desmond isn't dead, something else has gone seriously wrong. So something else must have pulled him here.
He leaves the castle, following the sounds of battle he can hear from far below. Normally, he would barely notice the sounds this close to the castle- there are always novices training in the ring, or assassins taking the time to brush up on their skills. But everything else is dead silent, and Altair can tell by the intensity of the fighting that this is no practice match.
He reaches the battle and hesitates on the edge. There are a dozen men, at least, all red as blood in eagle vision. Templars. They are dressed differently than the ones Altair is used to, but there's a certain cockiness to their kind that seems to persist down the centuries. None of them see him, which is exactly what Altair expects. He's a visitor to this time, just passing through. He only wonders who he's here to visit.
Studying the battle more closely, he finally catches sight of the man the templars are fighting. There are so many of them that he can barely see the stranger, and at first he only sees a flash of gray cloth, the glint of medal, a hood pulled low over the man's face. The tide of battle changes slightly- the man in gray is outnumbered, but holding his own, and for now at least, he is winning. He half turns, looking for the next enemy, and he looks straight at Altair.
It's Ezio. Older than the last time Altair remembers seeing him on a computer screen, hundred of miles and hundreds of years away. And much older than the one time Altair shared a mind with him in the animus. Time, it would seem, has not been kind.
One of the templars, seeing that Ezio is distracted, lunges forward, and it's all Ezio an do to get his arm up in time to stop the man from killing him. Altair watches the hidden blade there shatter, watches Ezio fall, watches the templars rush in around him, weapons extended. He can't do anything- invisible as a ghost, and just as helpless, he can only watch as Ezio is dragged away by templars, head down, probably unconscious.
He follows close behind as the templars climb the path to Masyaf. Ezio is left in a stone room with no windows and a door that locks. Altair slides through the door as the templars head out, no doubt to find their master somewhere in the castle. His lip curls at the thought of templars making a home in Masyaf, but there's nothing he can do about it. The only person here who can even see him is Ezio, and so he's the one that Altair decides to stay close to.
He sits cross legged on the floor and waits for Ezio to wake.
-/-
Chapter 32 officially makes this the longest fanfiction I've ever written. Yay for things no one cares about except me!