*** Shalalalala, shalalali, Terrific! Guess who decided to write more about Altaïr's story? Me! Haha I got bored -.- I have no idea how long this will take to write cause I ALWAYS get carried away but, whatever, enjoy! ***

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      "Come forward," said Al Mualim, "tell me of your mission."

      Altaïr could hear the blood rushing through his ears, his heart pounding. His was afraid of what was to become of is rank. He was a Master Assassin. He wouldn't let that be taken away. He reluctantly walked closer to Al Mualim's desk as he continued to speak.

      "I trust you have recovered the Templar's treasure?" Al Mualim asked. Altaïr swallowed hard, but spoke, his voice nearly trembling.

      "There was some . . . trouble, Master. Robert de Sable was not alone." It was all Altaïr could think of to say.

      "When does our work ever go as expected?" Al Mualim stated calmly. "It's our ability to adapt, that makes us who we are."

      "This time it was not enough . . ." Altaïr said quietly. Al Mualim's expression quickly changed from calm and mellow, to curiosity, and seriousness.

      "What do you mean?" he asked in a firmer tone. Altaïr could feel his hands slightly shake from the adrenaline rush he was beginning to have, he hoped his voice wasn't shaking, though it was no doubt filled with hopelessness.

      "I have failed you . . ." Al Mualim's visage had gone to anger, so did the tone in his voice.

      "The treasure?" he asked, as he walked around his desk to face Altaïr properly.

      "Lost to us . . ."

      "And Robert?"

      "Escaped . . ."

      Al Mualim was now standing in front of Altaïr, the rage in his voice making Altaïr's insides cringe, though he tried to keep his face neutral.

      "I send you, my best man, to complete a mission more important than any that has come before, and you return to me with nothing but apologies and excuses?!"

      "I did-"

      "Do not speak! Not another word!" ordered Al Mualim. Altaïr obeyed, breathing in so slowly that he was practically holding his breath. Al Mualim turned around and walked towards one of his book shelfs next to his desk, the light coming from the massive gate in the wall behind them cast a menacing shadow across his face. Altaïr could hear him inhale and exhale slowly, collecting his thoughts.

      "This is not what I expected," he said, now turning around to face Altaïr, "we'll need to mount another force." Altaïr's fear caught up to him, this was what he never wanted to happen.

      "I swear to you I will find him." he pleaded. "I'll go and-" Al Mualim cut him off abruptly.

      "No, you do nothing. You've done enough!" he said harshly. Altaïr could feel his heart sink. There was a heavy silence for a moment.

      "Where are Malik and Kadar?" Al Mualim questioned. Altaïr had completely forgotten that they existed. His memory quickly flooded back into his mind, and he saw the picture of them being left behind at the Temple, fighting, out numbered five-to-two.

      "Dead . . ."

      "No, not dead!" came a voice that was all too familiar to Altaïr, still full of anger. He turned to see a heavily injured Malik limping up the stairs, clutching his left arm, where the whole sleeve was covered in a crimson substance known as blood.

      "Malik . . . " said Al Mualim.

      "I still live at least!"

      "And your brother?" Al Mualim asked. Malik looked down at the floor and shook his head.

      " . . . Gone. Because of you!" he said, pointing an accusing finger at Altaïr, who was now facing him.

      "Robert threw me from the room! There was no way back, nothing I could do!" Altaïr shot at him. Actually, Altaïr didn't even attempt to go back and rescue his fellow Assassins, he just escaped leaving them behind.

      "Because you would not heed my warning!" he countered. "All of this could have been avoided! And my brother . . . my brother would still be alive!" Never before has Altaïr ever heard such anger and hatred in one's voice. Malik's glare was a thousand times harder than the one Altaïr gave him in the Temple when he tried to stop him.

      "Your arrogance nearly cost us a victory today."

      "Nearly?" asked Al Mualim quickly. Malik grinned when he saw Altaïr wear the same confused expression as Al Mualim.

      "I have what your favorite failed to find." he said, gesturing to one of the workers, who was carrying the capsule that held the Templar's treasure.

      "Here, take it." he said with no emotion in his voice. Jealousy hit Altaïr, and he literally fought with himself to not end Malik's life in that very spot, at that very second.

      "But . . . " he started, then they all turned to the stairway behind them, where a Novice was running up the stairs urgently, calling  "Master!", several times.

      "It seems I've returned with more than just their treasure."

      The Novice had reached the top of the stairs, breathing heavily, trying to speak;  he must have ran here all the was from the outskirts of the village.

      "Hold a moment, child," said Al Mualim, gesturing at him, "breath, then tell us what it is." The Novice obeyed and after a few seconds, he swallowed and spoke out.

      "Master! We are under attack! Robert de Sable seeks to Masyaf's village!"

      "So he seeks a battle? Very well, I will not deny him. Go. Inform the others, the fortress must be prepared." The Novice nodded and ran back down the stairs. Al Mualim turned to Altaïr again.

      "As for you, Altaïr, our discussion will have to wait. You must make for the village, destroy these invaders. Drive them from our home."

      "It will be done." Altaïr assured him. Al Mualim nodded at him and turned to Malik and called for a healer.

      Altaïr sprinted down the stairs, causing some of the guards to stumble back out of his way, and soon he was in the outside training area in front of the fortress, heading for the gates, many other Assassins by his side running in the same direction. He stopped to see Rauf running towards him, a few Novices following him, and they met at the gate.

      "Altaïr," he started, "it's good you've come. We need your help."

      "What's happened?"

      "Templars." he answered right away. "They attacked the village. Most of our people were able to get away. Most, but not all."

      "What do you need me to do?" asked Altaïr.

      "Distract the Templars. Keep them occupied while I rescue those still trapped inside."

      "As you wish." said Altaïr. Rauf nodded.

      "Saftey and peace, brother." he said to Altaïr.

      "To you aswell."

      Altaïr made his way down the large dirt hill and arrived at the village. He drew his sword and attacked the first two Templars he saw, who were kidnapping villagers.

      "Assassin!" one of them shouted. The other looked and threw the two villagers aside, and drawing his sword.

      Altaïr had almost no trouble taking them out. His sword was light, and strong, and so was his armor. The one of the Templars swung at him first, and he easily dodged it and tripped him onto the ground. The second Templar swung his sword at him and he deflected the attack, then swung his sword to the Templar's feet and knocked him to the ground, then he stabbed him through the stomach and yanked his sword out quickly, leaving the man dead on the ground, where his blood started to pool around him. The first Templar he attacked was back on his feet, and Altaïr switched to his short blade, made to use in combat with throwing knives. The Templar swung his sword at Altaïr, and with his short blade, he deflected the attack and forced the Templar's sword aside; he was holding it with both of his hands. With the Templar caught off guard, he struck him in the neck with his hidden blade, and pushed him aside, leaving him to bleed to death.

      Altaïr didn't get any injuries when fighting the rest of the Templars. He searched around many houses and distracted the Templars who were trying to kidnap villagers, just like Rauf requested him to do. When they were in a distance, he threw a knife at them with deadly accuracy, only striking them on the head, neck, or heart. He fought brutally, tripping one Templar on the ground, and stabbed him, then flipped over the other who was running at him, and stabbed him through the neck with his sword, then grabbed the other frightened Templar's shoulder and stabbed him roughly in the heart twice with his short blade, and pushed him to the ground. IN some groups he attacked, he had scared away several of the Templars, and took care of the rest. He protected as many houses and markets as he could, until he reaches the outskirts of the village where one Assassin was screaming at the top of his lungs, his voice covering the shrieks of pain of those who had been hurt, and the sound of swords clashing or people being stabbed.

      "Recoil the attack and return to Masyaf! Al Mualim commands it!" the Assassin shouted.

      At once, Altaïr began to sprint back, already out of breath, but before he did, he looked beyond the tall gates that were the border of the village, and saw a large Templar army heading their way, an arrow shower beginning . . . 

      He dived behind the closest wall he could find, which wasn't very far, and braced, so did all the other Assassins who were there, about twenty or so. Only two had been struck from the shower, both of them dead before anybody could reach them. Checking if it was clear, he ran back to Masyaf.

      When Altaïr arrived at the gates, one of the guards asked if anyone was left behind. Altaïr quickly looked back and saw the Templars just entering the gates of the village, the deserted village. He realized he was the last one to arrive. He shook his head at the guard and the gates closed behind him. The whole outside training area was filled with confused villagers, some being nursed. Altaïr made his way up to the fortress, until a voice had called his name.

      "Altaïr, come! Al Mualim is not finished with us yet!" Rauf shouted. He was up on a tower nearby the fortress.

      "Where are we going?" Altaïr asked, trying to yell over the many people talking in the crowd.

      "Up there," he said, pointing to the highest spot of the fortress, where three platforms wooden platforms were set out, meant to take a Leap of Faith, "we have a surprise plan for our guests. Just do as I do, it should become clear soon enough."

      Altaïr jogged over to the ladder and climbed it. A gust of wind came, the many banners and flags with the Assassin's symbol flowing North. He reached the top of the tower, and least one hundred feet above the ground. He met Rauf on the towers.

      "What are we doing?" he asked, but Rauf was already walking to the middle platform.

      "No time to explain, but you will soon find out." Altaïr nodded at him.

      "Stand on that platform, Altaïr." Rauf said, pointing to the platform on the right.

      Altaïr walked to the wooden platform, extending about six feet from the tower. He looked down to see Robert de Sable on a a horse, with an army behind him, and Al Mualim, on a large stone platform about fifty feet below, right next to the fortress. The two begun to speak, and he listened, but he also stared out at the mountainous wilderness around him, the wind cooling his skin in the hot, dessert sun. He noticed that on the other two platforms, there was Rauf on the middle one, and another person on the left one. The sun was facing his left, his hood casting the dark, mysterious shadow over his eyes, the edges of his robes lightly tossing in the wind. He still wondered what his task was.

      "Heretic!" he heard Robert shout to Al Mualim. "Bring down what you have stolen from me!"

      "You've no claim to it, Robert." Al Mualim shouted back. "Take yourself from here before I am forced to thin your ranks further."

      "You play a dangerous game!"

      "I can assure you, this is no game!"

      "Then so be it! Bring forth the hostage!" he commanded.

      At this, Altaïr looked down, and saw none other than Malik's brother, Kadar, in a mask with his hood on, his hands bound, being pushed in front of the crowd. The Templar who pushed him forward grabbed Kadar's shoulder roughly with his left hand, holding him in place, and with his right hand, he stabbed him in his heart through his back, his blood splattering everywhere. Kadar screamed in pain, then the guard quickly yanked his sword out and kicked him to the ground and dust flew up into the air around him, the blood spreading around his limp body, clinging to the dirt.

      "Your village lays in hoods, and your stores are hardly endless." he began. "How long before your fortress crumbles from within? How disciplined will your men remain when the well has run dry, and the food is gone?"

      "My men do not fear death, Robert. They welcome it, and the rewards it brings."

      "Good, then they shall have it all around!"

      Altaïr heard a whisper next to him, and he looked to his left. It was Rauf.

      "Follow me, and do so without hesitation." he whispered to him, getting close to the edge of the platform as Altaïr nodded and did the same.

      Al Mualim turned and looked up to the platforms.

      "Show these fool knights what it is to have no fear." He rose his hand up, gesturing towards them. "Go to God!"

      Altaïr knew exactly what to do now. All three of the Assassins dived off the platforms head-first, the flipped over to their backs, falling one hundred feet to the ground. But they did not die, there was a large, tall stack of hay waiting for them below. But to the Templars, they think the Assassin's own Master ordered them to suicide, to show that they have no fear.

      Altaïr felt the thud of the hay absorbing his impact to the ground, but there was a shriek when he got off the hay, it was the other Assassin who jumped with him and Rauf. His leg was dislocated badly, and he was crying in pain. Rauf ran to him and shushed him quickly.

      "Quiet, or the Templars will hear us." he warned. The Assassin nodded and he let Rauf lock is leg back in place, and he suppressed his scream of agony to a low grunt. A few feet away, the young Altaïr Ibn La'Ahad, with the rank of Master Assassin, was watching, still not knowing their plan.

      "I'll stay behind and tend to him." Rauf said. "You'll have to go ahead without us. The ropes over there will lead you to a trap we've set. Go. Rain death upon our enemies."

      Altaïr saw the ropes that cast from cliff to cliff, with wooden boards set as balance beams. Altaïr found no trouble walking across the beams, then climbing the mountain side to get to the tower behind Robert's force. The tower had a flat top, and a wooden ceiling over it, a few boards supporting it, letting a little bit of light cast across the floor. Altaïr knew exactly what to do. He pulled put his sword and in one swift swipe, he cut the wooden board holding the rope that released the trap.

      A large flap that was holding giant tree trunks had opened, releasing the timber, which crushed almost all of the Templars had been killed by the blow. Unfortunately, not killing their Grand Master, Robert de Sable.

      After the massacre ended and the dust had settled, Altaïr made his way back to the fortress, where he met Al Mualim in front of the entrance of the fortress. The training area below them, was still full of injured Assassins and startled villagers. Altaïr noticed there were two guards standing next to him, one on his right side, and one to the left, with his Master in front of him.

      "You did well to drive Robert from here." said Al Mualim. "His force is broken. It should be a long while before he troubles us again." He started to whisper, his voice hard to hear over the large crowd at the fortress grounds.

      "Tell me, do you know why it is you are successful?" Altaïr thought, but couldn't find the reason why this had went well but Solomon's Temple went horribly wrong. He was silent, until Al Mualim answered for him.

      "You listened . . . But if you would have listened in Solomon's Temple, Altaïr, all of this would have been avoided."

      "I did as I was asked." said Altaïr defensively. Al Mualim became furious from those six words. He shook his head in disappointment.

      "No! You did as you pleased!" he yelled at him. Altaïr could feel many pairs of eyes from the people in the large crowd watch their conversation.

      "Malik has told me of the arrogance you displayed, your disregard for our ways." he nodded at the two guards standing next to him. The guards grabbed Altaïr's arms and forced them behind his back, restraining him.

      "What are you doing?!" he demanded, surprised, though he knew he was going to get a dangerous lecture.

      "There are rules. We are nothing if we do not abide by the Assassin's Creed." Al Mualim was pacing, walking over to Altaïr's right side. Altaïr was looking at him, but he turned his head away when he looked Al Mualim in the eye.

      "Three simple tenants-" he said, walking over to Altaïr and grabbing his chin, forcing to look at him "-which you seem to forget. I will remind you." He said letting go of his chin and turning to the side again.

      "First and for most: Stay your blade-"

      "-from the flesh of an innocent," interrupted Altaïr, "I know!" Altaïr could see Al Mualim's fists clench and the next thing he knew, he was slapped across his face his face harshly, his skin burning, but he didn't make a sound showing any pain, let alone change his expression, but he kept looking down at the floor.

      "And stay your tongue! Unless I give you leave to use it." shouted Al Mualim. More people from the crowd begun to watch, and the fortress fell silent, watching Al Mualim punish his best Assassin.

      "If you are so familiar with this tenant, then why did you kill the old man inside the Temple? He was innocent! He did not need to die!" As Al Mualim spoke, tried to look Altaïr in the eye, but the Assassin kept turning his head away stubbornly every time he tried. Most of the people in the area were watching now, except for the doctors who were nursing the injured, and other Assassins who had different places to be. Al Mualim continued to speak.

      "Your insolence knows no bounds." he said with warning in his voice. Altaïr looked into his eyes, his insides turning, something was happening . . .

      "Make humble your heart, child. Or I swear I'll tear it from you with my own hands." Al Mualim's voice was so serious that Altaïr had the feeling that he really was going to rip out his heart at that very moment, but he continued to speak, the area now dead silent with everybody watching. Altaïr turned his head away again as his Master continued to speak.

      "The second Tenant is that which gives us strength. Hide in plain sight. Let the people mask you such that you become one with the crowd. Do you remember? Because as I hear it, you chose to expose yourself, drawing attention before you struck!" Altaïr swallowed hard, his heart beginning to get heavy . . .

      "The third and final tenant, your worst of all your betrayals: Never compromise the Brotherhood. It's meaning should be obvious; your actions should never bring harm upon us, direct, or indirect. But your selfish act beneath Jerusalem placed us all in danger! Or still, you brought the enemy to our home! Every man we've lost today, was lost, because of you!" he shouted.

      The crowd watching drew a collective breath. There was a heavy silence as Al Mualim turned around, reaching for something in his pocket . . . Altaïr's heart sunk when he saw what it was.

      "I'm sorry, truly I am, but I cannot abide a traitor." he said, pulling out his knife.

      "I am not a traitor!" Altaïr begged, trying to escape his restraints, his eyes just beginning to sting . . . Al Mualim shook his head sorrowfully.

      "Your actions indicate otherwise, and so you leave me no choice . . ."

      "Peace be upon you, Altaïr . . ." he said calmly.

      Altaïr watched in horror as his Master stabbed him in the abdomen, the blinding pain making him shut his eyes tightly and grit his teeth to the breaking point. Al Mualim yanked the knife out, now covered in Altaïr's blood. Altaïr could feel himself become dizzy, and suddenly the two guards restraining him were now holding him up. He could feel his blood slowly trickle down his skin, a strange pain surging through in his heart and veins, but almost as quickly as it happened, the pain began to ease.

      Until everything was black . . .

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*** Aaaand for all of you who have played the game, you know what happens next xP if you haven't, oh well, cliffhanger. You have no idea how long that took to write :( I can't even remember. But anyways, hope you enjoyed!

Keep

Calm

and

Kill

Templars ***