Altaïr's POV (You're welcome CrimsonCanadian)

I sit at the dining room table and continuously unsheathe and retract my hidden blades.

"Altaïr, do you need something to do?" Ezio asks, sitting beside me.

"Yeah, I'm bored," I say.

Desmond walks in and grins slightly.

"I've decided that if you guys are going to be here, you should at least see what New York has to offer. So, we're going to the nearby swimming pool."

I smack my forehead with my palm (they call it a face-palm in this age, but I don't understand why because you don't smack your entire face).

"Really, Desmond? Do we have to go swimming?" I ask.

"Right... well Altaïr, you're going to have to learn to swim eventually," Desmond says.

"I don't need to! I live in a desert!"

"Novice..." Malik mutters, smirking at me.

"Shut up, Malik," I growl.

"Altaïr, you're going to the pool and learning to swim. No questions asked," Desmond says. I groan and stab the table with my hidden blade.

Lucy walks in and stares at me.

"Altaïr, don't stab the furniture."

"Fine," I mutter, putting the blade away.

This was going to go very badly.

A/N: I was going to update this earlier but my entire chapter got deleted! :( But it's here now!