The lips on Malik's neck had only one purpose which could not be mistaken for anything else but pure wanton lust. He attempted to feign interest in the map that was laid out in front of him but it was growing more difficult as his body betrayed him by responding to the wandering hands demanding access under his robes.

"Altaïr," he warned half-heartedly as the man in question bit his ear lobe just a little bit too hard. He would cave in a bit but this was an age old dance so easy to fall into, the past and present seamlessly connected. Altaïr's deft hands unbuckled his weapons belt, letting it fall on the ground heavy with all the equipment hanging from it.

Malik gave a glare over his shoulder which was responded to with a sloppy kiss on his mouth and clever hands diving under his robes. Altaïr's hands were cool against his abs and pectorals making Malik shiver from the sensation.

"Your hands are horribly cold," Malik gasped while grasping the quill in his hand almost to a breaking point.

"Doesn't seem to bother you," Altaïr answered confidently.

CENSORED

"You are limping, my friend," Ezio noted as he walked with Malik towards the great hall in the villa. His friend gave him a murderous glare but did not say anything.

"You had your ass kicked by Altaïr again, yes?" he asked amused. For some reason Malik refused to give up on attempting to defeat the Syrian hunter in combat. So far, as far as Ezio knew, the only time Malik had won one of their bouts was when they had fought with swords. Why his friend insisted on challenging Altaïr again and again was beyond his understanding but the results were often funny.

"Something like that," Malik answered while shrugging his shoulders. Ezio couldn't help but laugh at the response because it was so clear his friend was annoyed despite his best attempts at concealing it. He could see a smile trying to push out his friend's features. This was how things were supposed to be he thought.

Ezio had come to regret the fight he had kept ongoing with his friend for months. In the end he had found himself instigating arguments and fights with Malik just for the sake of keeping the animosity going as he justified his actions to himself as revenge for Malik undermining his abilities. But the whole situation had left a sour taste, as he realised he really did not want to fight his friend but then Malik had kept the row going escalating everything into complete madness.

He was more than happy to have his friendship back and he liked to think it was stronger than it had been before the whole feud. He could once again walk alongside his friend knowing the other would have his back if the situation called for it. In fact he felt like the situation they were heading called support for each other as his father had called them to meet some visitors from Vatican.

"Is Altaïr around?" he asked since Malik seemed to be well acquainted with the man, even if, when asked Malik would deny being friends with Altaïr claiming to hate him.

"No. He left off to do who knows what," Malik answered irritation colouring his voice slightly. Ezio chuckled. The Syrian had a tendency to disappear and then appear periodically. Apparently Altaïr was looking for something in Italy and had sort of taken Monteriggioni as his home base. Ezio suspected the hunter was just too restless to stay put for extended periods of time, kind of like a cat.

Ezio threw his arm around Malik's shoulders in a friendly gesture. His friend sighed. Ezio smirked. They stopped in front of big doors leading to the hall where his father wanted to parade them around like prize horses for the visitors from Vatican.

"Do not scowl as if you want to murder the guests, my friend," Ezio quipped. Malik replied by shrugging his arm off and giving him just the kind of murderous scowl he was talking about.

"And you should wipe off that ridiculous smirk off your face," Malik retorted. Ezio patted his friend on the back before pushing the doors open.

Three men dressed in priest attire, his father, and Federico were engaged in conversation as they entered the room. All the heads in the room turned towards him and Malik. They stayed standing at the far wall since they were not invited in the conversation and it wasn't like Ezio even wanted to join in.

The three men in priest attire were only priests in name Ezio knew. They were Vatican sanctioned vampire hunters who used any means to get to their targets and did not care about collateral damage nor were they interested in any other monsters. Despite of his father's friendly manner with the men, they co-existed in an uneasy peace with each other where the Vatican being the bigger force merely tolerated the Auditores.

Any visits from Vatican meant bad news even if in theory they should be working towards the same goal. Ezio dared a glance at his side, where Malik looked on with only a slight frown giving away the man's discomfort. He put on his neutral expression as well.

"Here gentlemen," his father said motioning towards him and Malik, and then continued, "Our hunters Ezio and Malik." They both bowed politely as they were addressed. The priests scrutinised them as if they were vegetables for sale in a market. Ezio could only barely contain himself and he suspected his friend was not feeling any different.

"They look very young," said a bald giant of a man who looked like he belonged in a suit of armour instead of the priest robes he was wearing. The man also talked with a French accent Ezio noted.

"Yes, they are very accomplished for their age," his father said, making Ezio swell with pride as his skills were acknowledged. He noted how his brother looked visibly uncomfortable before managing to turn his expression back into a practised business smile.

The talk turned back to other things, leaving them effectively as background decoration waiting to be dismissed. Ezio did not want to linger listening to boring talks of diplomacy. He noticed how the bald priest kept glancing over to them from time to time while the other two kept their focus on the conversation. He did not like the face of the bald priest, not in the slightest.

The talks inevitably turned into vampires. It was probably the reason the Vatican had sent them over anyway. Ezio was reminded of their brief almost encounter with one in Venice which his father did bring up.

"Yes. Similar reports have been popping up all around Italy as of late," the bald priest said and then continued, "We have a very good reason to suspect a vampire or possibly even more to have arrived from outside of our influence." The priest gave a pointed glance at the two of them. What was that supposed to mean?

"Why have we not heard of these occurrences?" his father asked.

"The people trust the church in the matter of vampires, as they should and go directly to their local priests," the priest kept his tone perfectly neutral but Ezio could swear he still could detect a bitter undertone in the words.

Fortunately they were soon dismissed because he would not have been able to take it any longer. As soon as he had exited the room he let his shoulders slump and he sighed in relief. Malik looked as if he had swallowed a bucketful of lemons, making it safe to assume his friend had not enjoyed the situation either.

"If I were made to stay any longer I would have strangled myself," Malik growled quietly. Ezio chuckled, not because he was particularly amused at the situation but rather for his friend voicing the thoughts he had been harbouring himself.

"I have to agree with you, my friend. But let us move away from here, yes?," Ezio agreed while patting Malik on the back. Malik nodded in response and they made their way away from the doors leading to the room containing the visitors. He didn't feel like discussing the meeting for the fear of being heard despite the thickness of the walls.

They made through the villa all the way outside in an unspoken silent agreement. The night air was cold close to the freezing point. It might start snowing any day now and turn the streets and roads into a muddy slush. The autumn had been extraordinarily wet and the winter was not looking to be much better. His skin pricked from the sudden temperature change between the inside and outside.

They stood in a companionable, silence leaning against the cold stonewall of the villa. Malik had his arms crossed probably for warmth and expression set in a firm scowl. His friend had never been good at dealing with cold. Ezio smiled, amused.

"I do not understand what they want from us. The Vatican is nothing but trouble. They have little regard to anything but their own sinister goals," Malik broke the silence clearly agitated. Ezio nodded in agreement and added,

"I must agree with you, my friend. They have left us alone for years and now they appear on our doorstep and for what reason? To chase after some vampire that might be somewhere in Italy?"

"Yes and as little as I care for the peasants inhabiting the lands, I would rather not see any people ripped out of their homes for torture. It hurts our reputation too as the common folk make no distinction between a Vatican vampire hunter and an Auditore monster hunter," Malik responded with distaste clear in his voice.

His friend was right too; the Vatican vampire hunters would jump at any even slightly suspicious individual if they felt like their hunt demanded so, often resulting in innocent people being victimised. Their actions were Vatican sanctioned preventing from anyone interfering with their actions. The Auditores didn't have such sanctions and they had to work within the confines of local laws but laws meant very little if the people turned against their kind with pitchforks and torches. They couldn't afford pressing charges lightly.

"We are all the same to the people. They only see a man carrying a silver sword and they care very little for the markings on our robes or the purpose of carrying them," Ezio affirmed. Next to him Malik sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. Ezio threw his arm over his friend's shoulder to comfort himself as much as his friend.

"I am given enough dirty looks as it is without these glorified thugs making things even worse," Malik snapped and Ezio could sympathise. He gave his friend a reaffirming squeeze on the shoulder.

"How about we get ourselves some warm spiced wine?" Ezio offered even though he was quite sure Malik would refuse as the man drank very rarely. His arm was shrugged off.

"Why not? Maybe it will wash away the foul taste from my mouth," Malik answered nonchalantly. Ezio looked on surprised for a while as his friend made his way back towards the entrance to the villa but he recovered quickly with a smirk forming on his lips. He took a quick glance over his shoulder before following Malik and saw an eagle sitting on top of the ramparts lit by torch light. How unusual, he thought before shrugging and making his way back inside.

He had been content to remain under the warm blankets lost in his own thoughts. He knew as soon as he would throw the heavy quilts away he would be welcomed by cool air, making him even more unwilling to leave the comforts of his bed. Malik did not like the cold, not even one bit. He had to stack layers upon layers on himself to stay relatively warm in the winter. It was not uncommon for him to find himself on the verge of hypothermia after fighting some monster and finding himself soaked to the core with blood and muddy water.

If it had been up to him he would have not left his bed for the entire day. But it was not up to him, as he realised when he was jolted out of his musings by someone attempting to forcefully open his door. The door rattled uselessly against the doorframe. He had for once had the foresight to lock his door; a habit that had become more frequent after starting his trysts with Altaïr.

He was about to ignore the person behind his door and just tune it out, but then the banging started accompanied by muffled shouting. First he could not make out the words as his brain was still slow to make out the situation. He realised it was Claudia Auditore desperately trying to grab his attention.

"Open the door Malik!" Claudia shouted before banging the door more. Malik did not know the girl all that well even if she was his friend's sister and his brother's best friend. They were casual acquaintances conversing occasionally over dinner but never did they seek out each other. Malik realised there was something wrong for her to come over like this.

"It's Kadar! He needs help!" Claudia screamed desperately, finally spurring Malik into action.

"What happened?!" Malik shouted while scrambling to put his clothes on. When he had at least a modest amount of clothing on him he unlocked the door and let Claudia in. The girl was visibly shaken, covered in dirt, and was wearing his riding clothes which were torn here and there. This was bad.

"We were out riding when a monster attacked us. Kadar stayed behind to fight so I could get away," Claudia cried clearly distraught. Malik kept pulling on his clothes.

"What were you doing out this late?!" Malik accused as his temperament was getting the better of him making him angry.

"We weren't! My horse slipped on the snow on my way here and I fell off. I had to make my way here on foot!" Claudia defended herself. Malik was feeling panic invading his thoughts and he had to fight himself to keep in control.

"Where was this? What did the monster look like?" he demanded as he needed to know to be of help.

"It was south of here behind the fields just outside of the forest. We go there often. It looked like a huge man made out of rock or clay. I'm not really sure because I got so scared," Claudia broke into tears. Malik looked on unsure what to do as the girl buried her face into her hands and wailed loudly.

"I need to go," Malik said firmly and pulled on his cloak, strapped on his blade, and made it out of the door. He could hear Claudia shouting after him.

"Please bring Kadar back!"

He waved the girl off and transformed his quick steps into a full-blown run. He did not have time to waste if he wanted to see his brother alive.

It was near dark outside and sure enough there was snow on the ground which had not been there the previous day. He run through the town while struggling to stay upright as the wet snow had turned everything slippery.

When he reached the stables he stole the first horse he found saddled, not caring who it belonged to. His only purpose was to find his brother and nothing could stop him from reaching his goal. He ushered the horse into full gallop as soon as he got on. The horse protested his rough treatment but he did not care and put even more pressure on the animal which then gave up and complied.

He wished he could take the shortest route through the fields but the fields had been ploughed in the autumn making it impossible to ride through them. He would have to go around following the fence surrounding the field hoping to find some tracks to help his search. His horse was having hard time maintaining balance as the animal constantly slipped on the snow having little traction between its metal shoes and the snow.

As he rushed towards his destination, he almost missed them but in the snow he found footprints following a set of tracks belonging to a galloping horse. They were most likely Claudia's as deducted from the girl's description of falling off of her horse. Hope flared somewhere in Malik's gut, but also a need to reach his brother even faster.

He kicked his horse in frustration as he felt the horse attempting to slow down from the fear of falling. The horse swished its tail in protest. Malik kicked the animal once again but with even more force. This time the horse picked up the pace once again.

He was making good progress and the horse managed to not fall. It was practically dark now with the snow making everything seem much lighter than it actually was.

Then he saw it. The blood had turned the snow red everywhere and a dark huddle was in the middle of it all with a sword discarded a few metres away. Somehow he knew it was his brother even if he could not even see his face. He could see no monster though.

It was all he had time to register when his horse tumbled with its front leg slipping on the snow sending him flying over the horse's neck. He landed face down on the snow. Somewhere behind him the horse struggled to recover its footing, but he did not care as he himself scrambled to get on his feet and at the same time trying to reach his brother.

Somehow in his desperation he constantly kept slipped on the wet cold snow, making him reach for the ground almost as much with his hands as he did with his feet. There were tears swelling on his face as the worst case scenario which he refused to give a name even in his thoughts crossed his mind. This entire time his brother had not moved even one bit. The scent of blood floated in the air almost overwhelming him with its power.

He made the last few meters on all fours. His hands were numb from the coldness and his knees were wet, as he reached his brother. Kadar was lying face down in the snow with his limbs at an unnatural angle. He felt himself going through an array of emotions as the tears now streamed down his cheeks uncontrollably. His brother lay still unmoving.

"I came to bring you back home you idiot," he said with a wavering voice full of self-denial as he reached to turn his brother around. Kadar was cold to the touch and limp in his arms like a gigantic ragdoll.

His brother stared at him with blue glassy eyes. Something inside Malik broke in that very moment. He clutched his brother's body against himself while loud wails escaped him. He could not believe this was all happening to him. He cradled his brother as if he could just bring Kadar back with a little bit of comfort.

"I have always warned you of going out to ride near the woods. Why do you never listen? Why Kadar? Why do you need to insist on finding everything out the hard way?" he sobbed while shaking his brother's unresponsive body. Surely Kadar was just sleeping and he needed to be woken up with a bit of roughing up.

Then Malik stopped. He stopped absolutely everything except for breathing. He sat there with his brother's body still in his arms. He did not move. He did not think. He was completely blank as he gave up trying to do anything for himself or for his brother. He succumbed to his own subconscious staring into nothingness. The snow was melting under his folded legs soaking his breeches above his boots and he had no feeling in his fingers.

Something moved behind him in the forest. Malik did not move from his place even though his ears registered the sound of movement. The thing moved closer to him with heavy footfalls. For a little while Malik entertained the idea of surrendering himself without a fight to the monster but as the creature made its way through the forest and into the clearing, Malik had a freshly-found rage wash through his entire body.

He sprang on his feet to face the monster that had taken his brother's life as he was sure this was the same one from the smell emanating from it. It smelled of his brother's blood. He drew his sword readying himself for a fight. He would avenge his brother if it was the last thing he would do. His face contorted into an ugly sneer.

But the creature was not a monster per se but a golem. Malik was now confused as none of this made any sense. Golems had masters controlling them and they were created by humans. He could not see the puppeteer anywhere. He either had to find the puppeteer and kill them or remove the spell from the golem.

He shook all of his thoughts from his head since this was still the thing that had killed his precious brother. He attacked the golem without second thought hatred clouding his mind. He kept slipping on the snow as he clumsily dodged the golems wild swings.

He wanted desperately to hack the thing to pieces and then hack its master to pieces afterwards. He slipped again, becoming unable to dodge the golem's attack. He braced himself for the impact but instead of being sent flying he felt himself being snagged into air from his left arm. He struggled to free himself but the golem's grip was iron.

Then the golem squeezed. A wave of agony washed through him as he felt his arm explode into pure pain around both sides of his elbow. The golem then dropped him to the ground, except he realised the creature was still holding his arm. Malik kept gripping his sword as if it was a lifeline when he came to the realisation he had no left arm.

The golem then kicked him sending him flying uncontrollably for several metres. He attempted to roll on instinct to cushion the landing but his balance was off making him land awkwardly on his left side. He doubled over from the pain and nausea hit him like a brick wall, making him vomit.

He made it to a sitting position somehow. He looked at the now profusely bleeding remains of his left arm as if it was the most curious thing in the world. He felt light-headed, making him realise he was probably entering a state of shock but he was helpless to do anything but watch on as the golem started marching towards him.

His vision was blurring from the edges and he could smell his own blood entering the cacophony of odours in the air. He tried to move his legs but they refused to work. His right hand was still uselessly holding onto the sword. The gap between himself and the golem was closing each passing second.

He was seeing his entire life pass before his eyes. He regretted so many things. He had come to love so many things. There were so many things he still wanted to do. He realised this was it. He would die because of attacking an unknown golem in a fit of blind rage to avenge his brother, yet ending up dead alongside of him.

In the end his thoughts settled on only one thing. 'I am leaving Altaïr alone again,' and he could feel tears falling down his cheeks once again as he saw the golem preparing to slam him into bloody pulp.

But just as he was about to give up all hope and a golden eagle swooped down from the sky transforming in mid-air to a man wearing white robes, and landed on top of the golem. Both the man and the golem crashed down to the ground with a heavy slam that sent shockwaves through the snow.

It was Altaïr he knew. Altaïr had come to rescue him. Then his world went black.