Assassin's Creed 1. Battle Cry

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div class="Ct" strongConnor walked the battle field as thunder rumbles and rain falls. The blood shed is soon washed away, cleaning the mutilated corpses as the few left living search for their dead. The bodies taken note of and letters prepared to be sent to their families. The rain does it's best to erase the devastation from the face of the land, mixing gunpowder, blood and mud all together. Hiding the evidence of the horrors that had occurred just hours ago. The dark heavy grey clouds roll across the sky, tears falling, sharing the sorrows of the land. The grass bows with sympathy towards the lost. The winds caresses and comforts all it passes, giving its silent regards. In the distance an eagle screeches as it circles high above, a symbol of freedom. A sign of the colonists persistence and determination. The men whose heads were hung low look to the majestic bird, a single ray of light breaks through the cloud coverage, it gently strikes the white of the eagle's rain soaked feathers, giving it an unearthly glow./strong/div  
div class="Ct"br /strong Connor looked to the sky and raise the flag he held tightly in his grasp. The eagle screeches once more, circling above him, looking down upon the battle worn earth. The eagle's cry fills him with a sense of determination. It's cry one of war. As the troops continue on pushing back the British, he raise that flag higher, giving out his own war cry. The wind gave the damp material aid, it blew proudly in the wind. The red and white stripes easily seen against the dark muddy earth. The soldiers near him gave their own war cry, uplifting the spirits of the troops behind them and raising the morale of the ones before them./strong/div  
div class="Ct"br /strong The British soldiers stopped in their approach, a look of confusion swept over them. The Patriots ran forward, guns ready, bayonets drinking in the blood of their enemies. Tasting the crimson that flowed like a river through the beastly regulars that hindered their freedom. Each man gave his cry of triumph with each successful kill. A thrill ran through the men. Where as not even moments ago many contemplated retreat or surrender, now they charged forth, wave of blue against a sea of red and they depleted the British, striking down one soldier after another./strong/div  
div class="Ct"br /strong The flag flying high, perched securely upon a hill giving order to it's people. Giving strength and courage to all who peer at it. It is forever a symbol of this country's stubborn Americans. A sign of our undeniable perseverance./strong/div  
div class="Ct"br /strong The Patriots continue their fight, using all of their strength to push back until soon all we saw was the backs of those red coats as they fled for safety. All along the patriot lines, their were cries of triumph as another battle was won./strong/div  
/div 


	2. Mine

Malik had just finished his work for the day and was ready to turn in for the night when he heard a crash in the sun room. He quickly made his way towards the door and froze at the sight. A body was crumpled up on the floor, blood pooling around it, soaking into the torn assassin's uniform that it wore.

"Altair!" Malik cried out as he kneeled next to his friend's limp form. Altair 's pulse was weak and his breath was shallow and slow. A very large and fairly deep cut crossed his chest. He looked on his unconscious friend with horror. His hand trembled, unknowing of what to do. Suddenly a noise came from the opening above. Malik looked up in time to see three men jump down into the room with them. The men's clothes were bloody and two of them were injured. Without another thought Malik's instinct drove his actions. He grabbed Altair's sword, stepped between the men and his friend and wielded the blade before him.

Malik knew he was at a disadvantage, with his skills being rather rusty and his left arm missing but he knew he had to try. Altair's life depended on him. His hands trembled with a mixture of anticipation and fear. Chances were this is where they will both die.

Suddenly a voice penetrated Malik's thoughts and shattered his doubt. Altair's voice was a hoarse whisper "Malik..." Malik glanced back for a second and realized Altair was calling his name in his sleep.

With new found confidence Malik lunged forward and slashed at the head of the trio. The blade made contact before the man had enough time to register it. Malik spun, knocked the man on his back and buried the blade deep into his torso. The next two men lunged at him but Malik was too quick, their blades barely grazed his cheek and his arm. Malik ducked behind them, slicing the back of one man's leg then impaling the other. He finished them off with a quick cut across their throats then dropped the sword. His body now shook with excitement and adrenaline.

Malik took a few calming breathes to regain his composure and to clear his head before lifting his friend off the ground with arm and carrying him to the back room where he used Altair's knife to cut the uniform off him. He patched Altair up and cleaned the blood up that was on his skin. He watched as his comrade slept so peacefully now. He looked down at his mouth, slightly agape and beckoning him. He leaned down and kissed him, their lips touching for a moment, he felt the scar, a comforting sensation, before he drew back, his hand stroking Altair's hair. His fingers hovered for a second over his face then he gently trailed them down his jaw to the base of his neck. He tensed up when Altair breathed a word. Malik cocked his head to the side, hoping to catch it just as Altair opened his beautiful golden eyes.

He raised his hand with a grimace and brushed his fingers over Malik's cheek where blood had gathered on a cut as he repeated "I'm sorry."

Malik placed his hand over Altair's and wrapped his fingers over it. A shiver ran through his body when his fingers touched the empty space where Altair's ring finger once had been. "I'm sorry. I endangered you by coming here..." Altair inhaled sharply and grimaced, pain shooting through his chest.

Malik replied worried "Where else would you have gone? You would have died had you not come to me. I'm glad you did."

Altair smiled wearily "_Thank you..._"


	3. Leap of Faith

"It's time to perform the Leap of Faith." Al Mualim announced to his novices.

A smile crept across Altair's face. He has seen the others perform it before and he couldn't wait to get to do it himself. It's a test of an assassin's faith in his own skills and a symbol of their dedication to the creed.

Al Mualim called each assassin up two at a time. With each name called, Altair grew more excited. He glanced over at his friend Malik and was surprised to see him tense up with each calling. Altair asked "Are you okay?"

Malik tried to hide his fear but his eyes betrayed him when he turned his attention toward Altair. Before he could reply Al Mualim called "Altair Ibn-La'Ahad. Malik Al-Syaf. You two are next."

They looked around to find they were the last ones to go as they approached the edge. Malik stopped before stepping onto the platform and said to Altair, his eyes staring at it with fear "I- I can't do it. I..."

His voice trailed off as Altair took hold of Malik's shaking hand and tilted Maliks chin up so he could look into Altair's golden eyes "Yes you can. We'll jump together. This isn't just a leap to become assassins. This is an obstacle of faith for us both." Altair pulled Malik closer and kissed him on the lips, breathing into his ear "Have faith in me. Have faith in us."

Malik breathed "Okay." His voice still shook but this time it wasn't because he was afraid but because Altair was so close to him.

Malik faced the edge with Altair by his side. His grip on Altair's hand tightened. There fingers intertwining.

With one look at the other and a nod from Altair, they both leaped from the platform and soared into the air before diving into a massive pile of hay below. A single phrase passed between them with no need for spoken words but understood just the same.

"_I love you._"


	4. Wishes Weren't Meant For What If's

Altair was stretched out under the stars, his mind giving some depressing thoughts some attention. He began to think about one topic in particular, a question he's asked himself on multiple occasions._ 'What if I had never messed up? Malik would still have his arm and his brother. He'd be happier I bet.'_ He looked up, seeing a shooting star cross the sky with haste. He seized upon the possibility that these little occurrences can actually grant the impossible and whispered "I wish I had never gone on that mission."

Sometime afterwards Altair apparently fell asleep.

He woke up with the sun already beating down on him. 'Crap. I'm late. Al Mualim is going to have my head for this.' He pulled himself to his feet, his body stiff and reluctant then hurried towards Masayf. As he walked through the gates, no one seemed to acknowledge the assassin's late return. He walked pass the guards who didn't even look at him. He entered the library in search of his master and found him in his study but when he spoke to him, his master didn't even seem to notice his presence. He walked up to Al Mualim and spoke "I'm sorry for my late return Master." Again, no response. Curious, he placed a hand on his master's shoulder only for it to fall through.

"What sorcery is this?"

"Master, I have returned. What is it you wish me to do?" A familiar voice asked. Altair spun around to find Malik standing beside him in his assassin's robes.

"Malik. This is not Al Mualim. He has no body." But just as everyone else, Malik didn't even notice him. He reached over to grasp his brother's left shoulder only to find that Malik has his left arm. It is no longer a scarred stump. "What is going on here?" His head whipped around in confusion as he searched for an answer and found it as his eyes caught sight of his reflection in the windows. His comrades weren't the ones that didn't exist. He was a phantom of sorts. His body was see through. A chill ran through him. '_How can i be a spector? '_

"-that is your mission. I trust it will be successful." Al Mualim finished.

Malik replied "It will be done Master." before turning on his heel and walking through Altair.

Altair gasped as his comrade phased through him. "I'm never going to get used to that." He mumbled. He turned and followed Malik, still getting used to the fact that he has his left arm and that he's still an assassin.

Outside, Malik's brother Kadar was waiting patiently for Malik's return. Malik smiled at his little brother and ordered "Come on. We have our next mission."

Altair listened to Malik repeat Al Mualim's orders. They were to infiltrate a building in Jerusalem and take some documents that would give them valuable information on the Templars. Altair thought back, not remembering this mission in the past. As he listened to Malik and Kadar talk more about the mission, he grew uneasy. Something didn't seem right about these orders.

As they entered Jerusalem and approached the building, Altair felt a sick feeling. He tried everything to see if in some way he could get Malik's attention. He tried to throw stuff at them, he tried pushing him, pulling on him, screaming his name and even tried hitting him but he kept phasing through it all and remained unnoticed. As they entered the building by way of the rooftops, Kadar and Malik perched high above in the rafters, watching below. There was one Templar guard inside protecting the chest containing the documents they needed and two Templar guards outside the entrance. Kadar smiled at his brother, a look that clearly stated "This is all too easy."

'_Easy'_ was the word that Altair feared the most at this moment. Kadar dropped down below, assassinating the guard as he landed. Malik followed close behind. He opened the chest and found it to be empty "What the-" Suddenly, arms wrapped around Malik and pinned him to the ground. His weapons were immediately relieved from him. He looked over at his brother who was also captive in the grasp of Templars.

"Well, well. Look what we have here." A Templar leader stood before him. "Not what you were expecting, Assassin?"

The Templar placed his blade against Malik's throat and laughed. Malik lifted his head up, pulling away from the object while trying to free his hands. The Templars bound Malik and Kadar's arms and legs and made them face each other. Altair watched helplessly. He couldn't do anything.

The Templar leader crouched to eye level with Malik and asked "What are you going to do now, Assassin? We've taken away your talons."

Malik lunged forward and head butted the Templar. He fell back and growled "Kill them." He got to his feet and left "Take as long as you want."

The guards wasted no time at all. They began to wail on Kadar, making Malik watch. One kicked his brother in the chest while another pinned him to the ground and dislocated his shoulder. The only sound you could hear was Kadar's screams of agony. Altair watched with a pained and guilty look. The sight made him sick. He could hear the crack of bones echo with each assault.

Malik fought his restraints but to no evail. With every struggling attempt, a guard would hit him. After a few moments one guard stated "This one's boring."

The others agreed and drove their swords through Kadar's body. Kadar released one last gurgled cry before his limp body crumpled to the ground. Malik called out to his brother's lifeless form as the guards approached him. Altair dropped to his knees, his eyes resting on the gruesome sight of Kadar's body. Blood pooling and splattered around it. "Kadar...no."

A sound made Altair focus his attention back on Malik. The guards had surrounded him, inflicting the same injuries on his body but unlike Kadar, Malik didn't give them the satisfaction of hearing his pain. Instead he gritted his teeth and bared it. One guard had pointed out the fact that Malik was missing his ring finger which got the others thinking. They pressed Malik's body into the ground and forced his arms out in front of him, palms down as the leader pulled out his sword. A guard stood on each side of Malik, standing on his shoulders as the leader swung down cutting off the fingers on his right hand. Malik stifled a scream. "Noo!" Altair flew into a rage and lunged at the guards in an attempt to tackle them only to pass right through them and crash to the ground. He sat up in time to see the guard's sword slice off Malik's hand. Blood poured out onto the floor, the severed limb laying inches away. Altair watched helplessly as the sword impaled him, piercing his heart. With their task accomplished, the guards walked away from the two dead assassin's, kicking the bodies as they passed.

Altair rushed to his friend's side, unable to do anything for him now. He was useless in defending his friend. With trembling fingers, Altair closed Malik's eyes. He rose shakily to his feet and stopped. He listened carefully, thinking he had heard something. He was about to dismiss it when he heard Malik's voice whisper "Altair..."

Altair returned his attention to Malik's body. _'It couldn't have come from there. He has no pulse. No life.'_

"**Altair...**"

The voice came again but from behind him. His head whipped around in confusion. 'What's going on?' He knew that voice. He was sure it was Malik's.

Then the voice spoke louder, more certain "Altair." The world seemed to quake. He tried to move, to run but found himself frozen. His head spun,leaving him feeling dizzy and unstable. He felt sick as if a cold painful mass filled his body and was trying to tear him apart from the inside. He buckled over in pain, his body loss it's strength and he collapsed to the ground tormented by swirling shadows as dark fog clouded his thoughts. 

"Altair. Come on, brother. Wake up." Malik's voice coaxed Altair back to consciousness. He was greeted by his friend's worried expression.

Altair blinked twice, stared at Malik with blurry vision then shouted "Malik!" He sat up so quickly that Malik jumped back. Altair hesitated for a second then with a few quick movements and sure hands, he pulled out one of his knives, crossed his palm with the tip leaving behind a deep laceration.

Malik cussed "Have you gone mad, Altair?" As he dug around his pack for bandages. Meanwhile Altair poked Malik's left shoulder where a scarred stump remained then released a sigh of relief and fell back. His eyes scanned the ceiling. He was in Jerusalem at the sanctuary. Altair grimaced as his friend seized his hand and began treating his injury. "First you almost get yourself killed coming here in the middle of the night. Now you're acting unusually mad."

"Sorry brother." Altair managed with a tired sigh. "I'd explain myself but you wouldn't believe me."

He grumbled "Idiot Novice."

Altair smirked as he watched Malik try to tie the bandages, reluctant to allow him to help. _'Some things will never change and for once, that doesn't seem too bad.'_


End file.

Assassin's Creed, Adventure, Angst