"Look! There she is," Kadar said, nudging Claudia to the side, while pointing at a girl walking through the market place. They were sitting side by side on top of one of the houses in Monteriggioni watching the people pass by. Claudia was wearing her riding clothes and even if she wasn't, she wasn't much of a lady anyway. She would climb houses with Kadar anyday.
"Isn't she the one who called you 'creepy stalker'," Claudia commented, while rolling her eyes. Kadar winced. Why did Claudia have to so inconsiderate at times?
"She did, but I wasn't really stalking her," Kadar's voice went up in pitch when he defended himself. Claudia sniggered at him, looking just a little bit evil.
"You are sometimes just so stupid Kadar," Claudia mocked with a knowing smile. Kadar looked flabbergasted.
"What is that supposed to even mean?" he said utterly confused. He just didn't understand Claudia at times, well usually when it came to his attempts at wooing a girl. Claudia was now downright cackling. Kadar swore she was a devil incarnate.
"It means what it means," Claudia said with such finality, Kadar didn't bother prying more.
They sat in silence, but occasionally breaking it to comment on someone's horrible taste in clothing. Claudia told him all the gossip she had heard from her friends, which revolved around scandalous affairs between the Italian nobles. Apparently a noble woman had been caught having sex with her chamber maid and afterwards much of their conversation revolved around figuring out how that even worked out between two women.
The best part about Claudia was that while she was straightforward to the point of offense, Kadar could talk about anything with her. She knew more about his affairs than his brother did and she cared, unlike Malik who told him to stop being ridiculous. They had been friends since they were children, which was a very long time now.
"Should we go back to the villa?" Kadar asked, since they had been sitting for hours at the rooftop. Technically he was on guard duty but it really meant accompanying Claudia wherever she wanted to go. He even was paid to do it so the situation couldn't be better.
"I don't want to go there. The people there are idiots. What is up with them anyways? Ezio claims he knows nothing, my father doesn't care, Federico is still in Venice, Altaïr is an arrogant ass who deserves a good beating, and I haven't even seen your brother in weeks," Claudia exclaimed and then crossed her arms.
She was right too, Kadar knew, and it was worse for her since she actually lived in the villa, while Kadar lived at the barracks with the other guards. He had not seen Malik in over two weeks, but then again he had been preoccupied with his attempting to woo Francisca and trying to coax Altaïr to train him in sword fighting.
He had not paid much mind to his brother, but now that he thought about it even Malik wasn't that antisocial. How could they have avoided each other for half a month when they both were within the walls of Monteriggioni? Kadar pondered whether or not he should be worried for his brother, but could not reach a clear conclusion. Malik was an ass afterall. Who knew his brother's reasons for acting like an outcast?
"Does it matter, if they are idiots? I'm still charming at least," Kadar attempted to lighten up the mood by giving Claudia the biggest puppy dog eyes he could muster. Claudia snorted.
"What you are is a fool, that is what you are," Claudia said with a smile.
"True. But at least I amuse you," Kadar retorted good naturedly.
"My father should have hired you as a jester instead of guard," Claudia retorted sarcastically. Kadar grinned. Life was good. He could sit here forever with Claudia watching the crowds below.
Life was not good, Malik had decided. He had not slept for the fear of being caught up in one of the visions, though why he did so since he had visions during his waking hours as well, he did not know.
He had lost his appetite almost entirely and when he did eat, the food tasted as if covered in ash, so as a punishment for himself he started fasting. In fact, he was also punishing himself by training, so hard his muscles ached at the end of the night.
He avoided contact with people actively now. He skulked through shadows even during the darkest of nights to avoid meeting other people. As soon as he woke up he left his chambers immediately to avoid his brother and Altaïr. He could not deal with anyone as he currently was.
The only respite he had these days was when he was sent out to kill a monster. The sense of peace concentration on the hunt brought him was addicting for his torn mind. He revelled in the sensation of blood flowing to cover his arms; the satisfaction of the kill was almost orgasmic and he could lose himself to the fight without having to worry about life beyond that moment.
Unfortunately these were far and few between the days, when he had to simply try and hold into his last remaining remnants of sanity. Which was the reason why he had tried to put off seeing Leonardo for runeworks on his silver sword. But if he wanted to find that small amount of peace monster hunting brought him, he would have to bring his sword in for an overhaul. So he had managed to force himself to make the small journey to the workshop after debating himself for an hour.
Malik found himself standing behind Leonardo's door, attempting to muster enough willpower to go inside. He reached out his hand towards the doorknob, but at the last moment pulled it back. He was thinking up all the excuses he could to not enter the house.
But then he saw a person at the edge of his vision and on an instinct to avoid human contact he entered the building. He was greeted by a familiar smell of ink, paint and fresh wood. Leonardo turned around from his work, smiling with the biggest smile he had ever seen practically beaming happiness. Malik felt like a scared rabbit caught in the middle of a pack of wolves.
"Hello Malik, my friend. I haven't seen you in such a long time," Leonardo greeted, while rushing to hug Malik. There was no accusation in Leonardo's voice, but suddenly Malik felt really bad, because it was true that he had not seen the man in ages.
"Uh. I have been busy, I am sorry," and he was. Leonardo still smiled.
"Don't be. You are a young man in the prime of his life chasing after monsters all around Italy. You have better things to do than grow mould over yourself." The statement Leonardo gave Malik left him wondering the full meaning behind it, because it clearly wasn't meant to be taken literally.
"So, I was wondering, if you could work over the runes on my silver sword. I think they are weakened, because they are not really working as they should," Malik said while unsheathing his sword. He then carefully presented it to Leonardo, who accepted the sword with an expression of contemplation on his face.
The artist promptly inspected the sword, before landing his eyes on Malik.
"The runes are fine, but you are not," Leonardo said seriously concern written on his features. Malik's first instinct was to flee, which was ridiculous considering the person he was talking to was Leonardo, who would not harm even a fly.
"But they are not working the way the way they used to," he attempted to deflect the discussion back to the sword.
"Yes, but you aren't the same as when I made the runes either," Leonardo's voice was patient as if talking to a child. Malik fought with himself to keep standing where he was and not run out of the door.
"I do not know what you are talking about," he said attempting to appear oblivious. Malik crossed his arms pretending to look out of the window.
"If so why have you been avoiding human contact for nearly a month now," Leonardo queried, making Malik flinch visibly. He felt cornered, even if he should have known that Leonardo would know of his recent behaviour changes. In fact now that Malik thought about it, everyone close to him probably had noticed it. He just had been too caught up fighting losing battle against his inner demons of insanity.
"I – I can-not tell you. I would be killed for it. But if it helps in any way, I have not hurt anyone," Malik attempted desperately for Leonardo to drop the subject. Surely the inventor would understand that he could not endanger his own life by telling him something that had no bearing on anyone else's life, except for his own.
"You realise, you are talking to a witch? If I didn't reside in Monteriggioni I would be killed immediately. There isn't anything you could possibly tell me, which could get you in trouble," Leonardo said with sincerity written on his eyes. Malik couldn't take the pressure.
He cracked. He told Leonardo everything starting from the memory-esque visions he had, to the unnatural sexual urges. He told him how he had learnt to speak Arabic without ever learning to speak it and how he loved killing things a little bit too much. He told him how he tried to seclude himself, how he tried to avoid sleeping and how he punished himself. He told Leonardo all of it and at the end of things his voice was so strained he could hardly recognise it belonging to himself.
For some bizarre reason it felt surprisingly good to share his inner self to someone else. Malik felt like a burden was lifted from his shoulders, but he still had yet to receive a judgement from Leonardo. He decided he was going to accept whatever Leonardo was going to say to him without any resistance. The man was a genius; he would know better than a madman like Malik.
But there was no judgement, not even a little bit. The genius inventor smiled sadly at him, before asking him,
"Do you believe in reincarnation?" Malik looked at Leonardo stunned.
"No," he answered, because he could not think anything else for an answer. He wasn't even sure he liked the direction the conversation was heading, but he bit back his tongue and waited for Leonardo's reply.
"You have never questioned why you are in Italy out of all the places? Why you don't have parents? Why you can't remember your early childhood?" Leonardo questioned. Malik wanted to scream 'Yes! Yes, all the time, since forever!', but he did not. He simply nodded. Leonardo smiled kindly.
"When you and your brother showed up at my door step all those years ago I didn't know what to do with you, which meant I did the only thing I have ever done."
"You researched us," the words dawned on Malik at the same time with his thoughts.
"Yes. I had a hypothesis back then, which is now pretty much confirmed as a fact based on your story," Leonardo paused his words to take a breath. The genius looked slightly uncomfortable all of a sudden. Malik frowned. Then Leonardo continued,
"The good news is that you are not insane. The bad news is that the visions won't probably stop until all of your previous life's memories have returned to you and there's probably going to be a lot of them, since I'm fairly sure you are not entirely human either." At this Malik tensed up immediately.
"What?!" was the surprised incredulous reaction he had to Leonardo's verdict on his situation. He had decided, he would accept whatever judgement Leonardo would impart on him, but this was ridiculous. He could accept reincarnation with a bit of work, but not being a human was too much. Malik felt like a human, looked like a human and acted like a human, well for the most part, but he definitely was a human.
Then there was his brother to consider, who definitely was just an average human being interested in gossiping with Claudia and having unlucky escapades with women. His brother was a likeable social person with no inhuman qualities in him.
"What about Kadar? He does not have memories from his past life forcing themselves into his head. So what is he then?" Malik asked after mulling over the things Leonardo had said to him. Leonardo grinned and shook his head.
"Have you even asked him?" Leonardo countered raising one of his eyebrows. Malik had not asked his brother, because he had simply assumed he was all alone with his madness. Leonardo had seen completely through him, while Malik had thought himself to be somehow unsolvable puzzle. He would have to ask Kadar and apologise for avoiding him. Malik looked away from the inventor's face into his own feet, suddenly ashamed.
"Then there's the other thing that you are punishing yourself for," Leonardo's voice was as stern as he could make it be, which wasn't very stern at all. Malik turned to look at the inventor.
"First of all you need to stop punishing yourself for it. It won't accomplish anything. Trust me. I've tried it all – fasting, whipping myself, abstinence, cold water baths, everything. It won't work," Leonardo lectured. Malik looked at the genius with his mouth open. The insinuation of the words was something he could barely comprehend.
"It is much more common than one might think, but a great precaution must be taken because the laws are what they are. Though the conclusion I have reached from the failed attempts of curing myself in my youth is that the laws are wrong in this case," Leonardo analysed in a manner which would have in any other time amused Malik, but now the words left him feeling confused, yet somehow relieved.
Leonardo patted Malik in the back in a comforting manner. All Malik could do was look on dumbfounded when Leonardo took his silver sword back into his hands.
"I still need to modify the runes, so don't run out of the door just yet," Leonardo smiled lightly. The inventor grabbed the sword from the hilt and flipped it from one side to another inspecting the runework. Then he went to work, with what amounted to Malik as weird powders, smoke, and banging with a hammer. He really didn't know much of anything about runeworking except that it required inherent magical abilities and a lot of skill.
When he was finally handed his silver sword back the runes were no longer glowing red, but instead purple. He didn't really know what it meant but he trusted Leonardo's abilities, so he simply sheathed the sword back against his hip, where the familiar weight felt comforting. He thanked Leonardo and exited the building.
He would have to find Kadar the next evening and talk about these things. Well about the recurring memory visions. Not about that other thing that was definitely out of the question.
It was already near dark when Ezio approached the training yard in Monteriggioni. He had planned to have a go at the training dummies, because his usual sparring partners seemed to be unavailable at the time. Malik had secluded himself for a month now and he had only managed to see glimpses of the other hunter once in a while, so that only left Altaïr and Kadar to train with. But he could not spar with Kadar, because Ezio would find his life endangered by an over-protective big brother, despite his aversion to other people Malik seemed to find out about everything. This left only Altaïr to spar with but he had had enough of his ass being handed to him, especially after Malik had decided to start giving the man cold shoulder.
He stopped to listen to the voices coming from the training yard. He could not see the speakers, but he instantly recognised one of the voices as belonging to Malik shouting obscenities at some poor soul. He managed to separate 'novice' from the cacophony of languages and knew his friend was arguing with Altaïr. Ezio smirked and continued his journey onwards.
Sure enough he found Malik and Altaïr arguing about something in the middle of the training ring, both holding practice swords in their hands. The argument seemed to be going nowhere, but he was glad to see Malik out of whatever hidey hole he had been in lately. Kadar was also there looking very confused while watching the argument ascending into a level of insanity.
"Hello, Kadar, my friend," Ezio greeted the man, while moving to lean against the fence Kadar was sitting on.
"Hi, Ezio," Kadar greeted back, still looking confused.
"Did I miss something or what is going on?" he asked genuinely curious, because his friend had been avoiding people like the plague and all of a sudden he was here at the training yard as if nothing had happened. Though he didn't know the reason for his friend's sudden need to be alone in the first place, he had somehow gotten used to the idea of not seeing the man at all, so now that Malik had come out hiding it was also puzzling.
"Your guess is as good as mine," and at that Ezio snorted.
"Malik sought me out yesterday evening. Can you imagine? My brother actually looked for me," Kadar asked rhetorically with disbelief clear in his voice.
"He asked me all sorts of weird things I had no answer for. Today he showed up here, got angry at me and Altaïr, because Altaïr was showing me few things and then decided to challenge Altaïr to a duel. Not a sparring match, Ezio, but a duel. What is that even supposed to mean?" Kadar babbled on. Ezio turned to look at the supposed duelers, but all he could see was a match of words unravelling in front of him.
"So, have they fought yet?" Ezio asked. Kadar looked at him funnily.
"No. They haven't yet agreed on the rules," Kadar said exasperated. Ezio burst into laughter.
"So that is what the argument is about," Ezio said greatly amused. This might be good if the two ever managed to settle their argument long enough to actually start the physical fight. Malik was as good fighter as he himself was but fought in a vastly different manner. It would be interesting to see his friend's swift and calculating style against Altaïr, who seemed to fight with inhuman instincts and reflexes.
"Are you two ever going to fight? At this rate my beard is going to turn grey before you even start," Ezio taunted in the hopes of quickening the process. Malik gave him a deadly glare. Ezio chuckled.
"You first need to be able to grow a beard for it to turn white," Malik retorted sarcastically, while pointing at his own ridiculous chin patch. Ezio ignored the insult to his beard growing abilities. He had heard worse things from his friend.
Then the two arguers threw their equipment to the side including the practice swords they had been holding. Ezio quirked his eyebrow at them.
"A fistfight? Really?" Ezio questioned to no one in particular, while the two hunters finally took their fighting stances. Besides him Kadar shrugged. At least there would be bleeding noses and possibly even cracked ribs this way.
Ezio was growing impatient, when neither two moved to make the first attack. They just simply stood there in their stances staring at each other, looking ridiculous. Malik appeared in his low, deep bent knees stance as if he was head shorter than Altaïr though the difference was actually only a few centimetres. Altaïr resembled some ridiculous roman statue with his arms at an awkward angle Ezio didn't quite understand the purpose of.
Apparently Kadar was bored of watching the staring contest going on before them, since he huffed loudly. The stares were deadly, Ezio admitted to himself, but not very entertaining.
"Stop staring each other! We demand entertainment," Kadar suddenly shouted besides him, which did have the desired effect, since the suddenly the fight was full on.
Altaïr was aggressive, fast and could change the direction of his punches seemingly in midair and the punches had impact behind them, probably enough to punch the lights out of someone. Malik alternated between aggressive offence and defence, which meant complicated upper body sways, ground rolls, and at times, even back flips.
Ezio knew his friend's fighting technique well, since they had been going at it since they were children and he knew how Malik favoured using his opponent's own momentum against them. It was an adaptation borne out of the necessity dictated by Ezio's fighting style, where Ezio had the advantage of both reach and strength.
Ezio saw how Altaïr threw a left hook aimed at Malik's head. Immediately Malik reacted with a counter, but the exchange ended up with blood flowing from Malik's nose and Altaïr clutching his side. Ezio narrowed his eyes. Malik was smiling and Altaïr frowning. This was something new he had not seen. Had his friend just gambled that Altaïr would come worse off from the exchange? Because he had never seen him go at anyone, if there was a chance his counter would fail.
Ezio heard Kadar gasp. He wasn't sure what kind of faces he was making, but at least the fight was interesting. Malik seemed to match Altaïr surprisingly well, considering the circumstances.
"Has my brother always been so good at unarmed combat?" Kadar suddenly asked when Malik landed yet another body blow before stepping quickly out of Altaïr's reach. The guardsman's whole face turned into an expression of awe.
"No. I just knocked him unconscious with one punch a while ago. If given a sword, he's undefeated, but this is something I've never seen before," he said while observing the fight. It was as if his friend's reflexes were even faster than what they used to be. He was now starting to itch for a fight so bad that he noticed he had been clenching his fists so hard he was drawing blood with his own nails.
Then Altaïr feinted and this time around Malik fell for it. The white clad hunter was like a blur, when he grabbed one of Malik's arms, spun the man around and bent Malik over the training yard's fence with his other hand going for the neck. So it was over then. Predictably Altaïr was the winner. Ezio was slightly disappointed in the outcome.
The man could constitute as a one man army all by himself. It was surprise in itself that Malik had managed to land any hits on Altaïr because Ezio had certainly not been able to do that himself. He would have to fight Malik as soon as possible to know what had changed, if anything.
"Are you ever going to yield or do you enjoy that position so much you would rather stay like that?" Ezio shouted. Kadar snickered. He could hear Malik curse in a very colourful way, one of the curses sounded suspiciously like, "I'll castrate you and feed your balls to a harpy." Ezio laughed.
Finally an "I yield. Goddammit Altaïr!" could be heard, but Altaïr kept Malik there for an extra few seconds. Ezio snickered. Probably a revenge for all the insults directed towards the other hunter, just because he could.
"I want to learn all that stuff too," Kadar said to him. Ezio knew the man had taken to a bit of hero worshipping of Altaïr as of late. It was evident from the way the man kept badgering him to teach him things.
"I could teach you a thing or a two, you know, my friend," Ezio offered, because he was damned if he wasn't an amazing fighter too. Also, very good looking, which was just a nice bonus.
"No. I want to learn that thing Altaïr did to my brother," Kadar insisted. How annoying.
He kicked himself off the fence and picked up one of the discarded practice weapons so he could go and whack one of the dummies into pieces. He then realised the two hunters had already gathered their gear from the ground and disappeared. He looked around, but didn't see even a trace of them.
"Where did they go?" he asked Kadar, confused. Kadar, who also had left the fence and was obviously about to leave shrugged, but answered,
"They just ran off somewhere without even saying a word." The guardsman then turned around to continue his journey off to somewhere, wherever the man went after a day was over. Ezio didn't know and honestly didn't care either.
Ezio raised the practice sword and started beating up the dummy. He could at least work out some of this pent up energy he had. Maybe afterwards he could hit the brothel. The madame there was nice keeping her doors open for him even in the dead of the night. That sounded like a good plan he decided, as he slashed the head off of the practice dummy.
Malik woke up to the sensation of someone running a hand down his side. The next thing he registered was being naked in a bed that was definitely not his. An itchy quilt covered him up to his hips. He felt a hot breath to his neck. Opening up his eyes lazily, he saw a room that was infinitely nicer than his own, with luxurious decoration. This was one of the guest rooms in the villa, he realised. Then he remembered what had gone down the previous night. A smirk formed on his lips at the thought.
Malik rolled onto his back and was greeted by a pair of wicked golden eyes staring down at him. He had barely been able to contain his arousal during the sparring match with Altaïr. The final straw had been when the man had bent him over the fence surrounding the training yard. It had taken all of his willpower not to throw his breeches down there and then, when he had realised Altaïr had an erection, which he obviously deliberately flaunted at Malik. Malik regretted nothing. He was feeling too content to care about religion or any other societal norms.
Their sex had been full of fight, rough hands and bites that drew blood. Altaïr was obviously much more experienced of the two of them, but it didn't slow Malik down in his own demands. In many ways it had been an extension of their fight in the training ring, leaving them both in a feeling of mutual satisfaction, in which neither was the loser and both were the winner in the orgasmic bliss.
"Good evening," Altaïr greeted him with a voice that could be only described as smug. Another thing had come up about Altaïr, that related to him on a very deep personal level, besides having had sex with the man. As he had stopped resisting the flashbacks, now coming back to him at a more frequent pace, he had realised he had known Altaïr before. It meant Altaïr was probably much older than what he appeared to be, but then again it would seem he himself had lived at least one lifetime before this one. He shouldn't be surprised about anything at this point, but he was.
"I used to know you before. The friend who couldn't fight and was a cartographer - that was me was it not?" Malik said with sadness. Altaïr closed his eyes, nodded and said simply,
"Yes." He reached for one of Malik's hands giving it a reassuring squeeze. Malik had pieced the information together when Altaïr had started appearing in his visions. He was still missing large chunks of the puzzle leaving him feeling disconnected at times, but he was starting to recognise the kind of man he used to be.
"You recognised me in Venice, which is why you saved me. Which is why you wanted to make friends with me," Malik stated factually. Altaïr opened his eyes, his pupils visibly dilated and Malik wanted to be lost in those eyes for eternity.
"Initially yes, but it's more complicated than that. You are still the same Malik Al-Sayf, but not the same at the same time. I realised this almost immediately after your concussion got better," Altaïr said while running his hand down Malik's abdomen. The atmosphere hung heavy between them.
"Well yes, to begin with I am not going to allow myself to be speared to death twice," Malik teased to lighten the mood. Altaïr winced and Malik regretted his words instantly. He had forgotten what Altaïr had said about seeing his friend killed before his eyes. There was no way to know what it feels like to see someone you love killed and being unable to help them. A silence fell between them.
"Would you like me to tell about the things that went down between us before? How you used to live your life?" Altaïr broke the silence with a contemplative question. Malik sat up. The itchy quilt falling nearly off of him. Altaïr turned his head away as if in shame. He grabbed the man's face between his hands turning it back, then he crashed their lips together.
Altaïr answered the kiss eagerly, snaking one hand around Malik's waist and the other tangling to his hair. Malik tilted his head to gain a better access to Altaïr's mouth, which was promptly granted to him. When they finally separated from the kiss, slightly winded their faces only mere centimetres apart, Malik whispered,
"I want to figure out what happened to me by myself. The memories are coming back and eventually they will be complete. When that happens I will let you know, if you are still around. It is still all very confusing, but this is something I need to do myself." Altaïr nodded. Malik smiled and gave a quick peck at Altaïr's forehead before getting up from the bed. He needed to be out of the door fully clothed as soon as possible to avoid suspicion.
While he collected his haphazardly littered clothes from the floor, he heard Altaïr also stir from the bed. He turned around while attempting to pull his breeches on to see Altaïr also looking for his clothes from the piles of discarded clothes. The man truly was something to behold with his well-defined muscles, broad shoulders and lips that almost begged to be either kissed or put to use around someone's dick. Malik smirked at the thought.
"I'm going to leave Monteriggioni," Altaïr said interrupting Malik's terrible fantasies of blowjobs. Malik frowned. He didn't own the man and he was fully aware the man might leave anytime, but he guessed having sex and figuring out they had a shared past would do weird things to people.
"Will you come back?" Malik asked with an attempt to not sound desperate, but he probably did anyway. He did not want Altaïr to go. He had allowed the man into his personal life, like no others and he did not like to let go of those closest to him.
"I will, but you could also come with me," the hunter suggested. Malik was tempted to say 'yes', but he could not. He had obligations here preventing him from leaving.
"You know I can-not. Not without Auditore permission. I have my duties. The monsters lurking around could keep an army busy and there are only two hunters to deal with them all. Luckily I am very good at whacking monsters to death with a sword," he jested, while at the same time pulling his boots on.
"Not all the monsters wear the face of a beast. Not all of them can be fought with silver swords and physical strength," Altaïr mumbled almost inaudibly. Malik stopped to take a good look at Altaïr.
"I said those words to you. I do not know why, but I did say them to you," he wondered aloud.
"You lectured me, when I said something similar to what you just said. I was just reminded of it, even if our roles were reversed," Altaïr said. Malik stared at the hunter with a frown.
"You did not seriously lecture me right now, did you?"he demanded sternly. Altaïr smirked lopsided.
"I wouldn't even dream of it," was the complacent answer. Malik threw one of Altaïr's boots at the man, which he sadly ducked.