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Your eyes snapped open. “Good news you two…” The bureau master was saying, you squinted, it was still dark in the room, the reaching flames of some candles making the shadows retreat and loom over you. “….it has worked, apparently Abaan al-Bahri is coming by the construction sight at first light, get up, you need to be there!” He hurriedly ushered you to get up, practically strapping your weapons on for you. You felt disappointed that your dream had not been reality, but with rushing to get sorted out you had little time to think on it.

“There.” Yazan said, pulling his boots on.

“Good, good, now be on your way.” He said, encouraging you out.

You clambered onto the roof looking at Yazan. “To the Souk al-Silaah then.” He said.

You nodded, still feeling slightly tired. The sky was a lightening blue, littered with only a few stars and the moon, which still hung in the far distance. Forcing your legs into a jog behind him you swiftly travelled the now familiar path across the rooftops, the sun was just begging to rise by the time you climbed the building opposite the trading point. Standing you gazed at the morning view, it was beautiful, the crashing colours of yellow, orange and light blue with retreating soft pink filled the sky in their glorious display. The sun was filled with warmth and the morning air smelt fresh as you inhaled deeply. “Perhaps we should take to the streets? There are plenty of merchants around that we could mingle with.” You suggested.

Yazan looked to you. “Good idea." He agreed. "It is probably less risky than lucking around on the rooftops.”

Soon the both of you were walking into the Souk al-Silaah trading point with a group of merchants, some energetic, others talking, some tired and uninterested and then the worst of all, the grousing ones, that went on and on complaining in depressing tones, the way they dragged themselves along one would think they were off to their execution. You and Yazan stayed in the crowd of cloth merchants, as their stall was just opposite the construction site. Yazan began to make conversation about how he had been trying to find the right fabric for something for so long. They began returning with how ‘wonderful’ theirs was. So he kept them busy talking while you leaned on the stall pretending to be interested.

Meanwhile your eyes scanned to the site, it was devastated, you were actually surprised by just how much damage you two had inflicted. There you spotted a largely build man, large with muscles not fat, his face was impatient and set into deep anger. His hair was long, thick and curly, tied back, which only made his long face look harsher, his beard was short and trimmed exceedingly neatly. The man was dressed in blacks, blues and gold’s, some light steel armour covering his chest and heavy dark brown boots. You could see him talking to a guard, but needed to get closer if you were to properly hear the conversation. Your eyes flicked around in hope of seeing a way, then you spotted a hay cart, it was too far to listen to anything though, if only you could move it. “Brother.” You said suddenly, your eyes flicking to the cart.

“Oh of course, if I am to buy some fine material I shall need my coin purse. Forgive me friends, I will return soon.” He lied smoothly to the cloth merchant family, who all seemed to believe him.

Walking away you began to speak. “There is a ha-…”

“Already on it.” He interrupted.

You smiled. It took some time and blending with crowds before reaching it, once there you sighed. “Now what?” really it’s useless because it is too far.” You pointed out.

“Be quiet and listen.” He instructed, then playfully pushed you into the hay, submerged in it's dusty mass you felt the cart begin to move. Brilliant Yazan, just brilliant, push the cart there and leave it, no one will question. You mentally dreaded the next few minutes. All of a sudden the cart dropped on one side and you heard a snap.

“Oh no, my wheel!” You heard Yazan exclaim, then heard him begin to walk away.

You mentally rolled your eyes at him, though it was a rather ingenious little plan. Now you just had to hope the owner didn’t come by with a pitchfork. You listened carefully, almost holding you breath.

“The men responsible for putting the pillars up, I suggest you step forward.” A mans voice demanded; it was not loud but carried a great wrath in it. A voice that dripped with authority and demanded respect. In this time you had used your dagger to drill a small hole through the thin wood to peek out from.

“It was Alawi.” An older mans voice accused.

“I am to believe one man put every pillar up?” You saw the owner of the demanding voice was the longhaired man that you had spotted earlier.

“No, no.” The older man said hurriedly. “But the end pillars are most important. And it was him, Talal and Ehsan that dealt with the end pillars.” He explained, practically cowering before the man.

The man looked at the crowd of workers. “You three step forward.” He instructed. First came a man who looked to be in his early twenties, he was broad and had calm eyes, standing without any showing emotion he seemed to have excepted his fate. The next to shuffle forward was a terrified looking younger man, perhaps nineteen years of age, his hair was long, with a slight wave to it, his forehead sweating from anxiety as he stood nervously before, who you presumed was, Abaan al-Bahri. “Where is the third?” He asked, his voice remaining an unreadable tone.

“Talal, come on.” The oldest of the workers said.

A young boy came forward, he was trembling, his breathing fast and unsteady, wide brown eyes darted around as his face filled with fear. His build was thin, he was probably only sixteen years old, if that, he had a face that looked like it was normally kind, though now it was mostly plastered in worry. “I…am h...here…master…” He stuttered.

The man gave a nod. “Where you three responsible for the end pillars?”

They were all silent for a moment. The eldest man of three closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. “I was.” His voice was surprisingly strong, not stuttering or showing fear.

“You are?” He asked.

“Ehsan.” He said plainly.

“Where these other two?” The man asked.

“No.” He answered.

A mummer of ‘liar’ went through the other workers.

“So you lie to me now?” The presumably Abaan al-Bahri asked.

“No, I do not lie, these boys were not working on the pillars.” Ehsan reassured.

“I am to believe one man over my entire workforce?” He questioned, a dark eyebrow raised.

“What you believe I can not alter, but I speak the truth, master.” He responded confidently.

“We shall see, we shall see.” He smiled slightly, giving a nod to a man who stood beside him. The man was clearly a personal guard, he dressed in quality armour and had a fine weapon at his waist. Approaching Ehsan he gave a nod to two other private guards that held the young worker by his arms. Then the guard in front pulled out a dagger and stabbed it into the man’s lower stomach.

“Argh.” He let out a cry of pain as a gush of blood spilled from the wound. Your eyes widened, unable to do anything, you knew it would end in al-Bahri’s escape dare you try and help.

“Are you sure these two were not involved.” His commanding tone inquired, a hint of some sick pleasure buried beneath his question.

“You bastard Abaan, I have told you the damn truth.” He snapped back painfully, blood drizzling from the wound.

Well, now you knew this was the man you were hunting, your blood boiled at having to watch this. “Really.” Abaan al-Bahri’s voice had an amused tone as he gave a nod to the guard, who the twisted the dagger in the wound, receiving another deep groan of pain from Ehsan.

“Yes.” He moaned out, only to be punched by the guard, his nose shattering under the guardsman’s fist as a stream of blood began to pour forth. His face screwed up in pain, before he blinked and shock his head. You watched, guilt gripping at your heart for he had done nothing, this was your doing.

Abaan al-Bahri then approached Ehsan personally, pulling out a fine dagger he ran the sharp metal through the young mans delicate flesh on his cheek, his eyes wide and a smile forming on his lips as Ehsan whimpered in pain. Then al-Bahri plunged the dagger through his check into his mouth and shattering some teeth in the process. Ehsan let out a loud cry of agony and tears of pain slid from his dark eyes.

“Stop this!” The nineteen year old, who you guessed was Alawi, cried. “We both worked on the pillars, me and Talal, please don’t make Ehsan suffer anymore.” He begged.

“Finally.” Abaan al-Bahri said. In that moment he pulled out his broad sword, it gleamed in the suns harsh beams. He bought in down upon Alawi, in one swift motion it split the boys head in two and he fell without a sound, blood flowing out and covering the ground.

Your stomach lurched at the sight. Before you could even think. Abaan al-Bahri impaled Talal though his chest, the young boy gave a deep cry and then went limp in death, blood gushing from his wound as his young body slid from the weapon to the ground.

“Curse you.” Ehsan yelled, despite the extreme pain in his mouth.

“Liars go to hell.” Abaan al-Bahri stated, bending down to face Ehsan, who was now on his knees.

Eshan spat a mixture of saliva and blood in the mans face. “Then I shall see you there.” He snarled, just before a guard slit his throat and his body fell meaninglessly to the ground, a dark crimson puddle forming around it. Once again, the blood of the innocent stained the sword of the corrupted.

You clutched your pounding heart, it was beating against your chest, your stomach was twisting inside of you and your mind was racing as tears pricked your eyes. This was your fault, if you had only waited three days. You at least had to focus now, Abaan al-Bahri needed to die. And in order for that to happen, you had to stay as alert as possible.

Blinking away the fresh tears in your eyes you looked back out of the small hole, seeing the three bodies left on the ground, their blood mingling into a large puddle as the other workers stared, their faces filled with horror. “See to it that there are no more mistakes.” Abaan al-Bahri addressed the workers in a casual manner, seeming oblivious to the men’s bodies around him. Then he turned. Tailed by the three guards he left, heading towards the nearest exist.

In a moment you jumped from the hay, mingling in with a small crowd of individuals as you kept your eyes on al-Bahri. The trading point was just starting to become busier, the halls were open, some stalls nearby were all set up with goods and wears that shoppers were examining. A slight shadow of concern crept across you as Yazan was nowhere to be seen. You continued on after your target though, you couldn’t lose him now, if anything those men’s deaths could not be entirely in vain. You tailed the man, trying to calm the anger that boiled in your veins, coursing through your body like a frenzy of hate, staying your blade seemed to take much of your willpower. The old man had ordered you to wait for Altair, surely he had his reasons for wanting as much and you were required to obey that. Once out of the teeming trading point you followed Abaan al-Bahri through the lively morning streets, they were packed with people, the sounds of talking or stall vendors calling out offers cluttered the air. You made your way across a road, pushing carefully through the sea of people milling around. The air was heavy with the suns heat and closed in tightly around you. Your breathing was getting faster as more and more people began to block your vision from Abaan al-Bahri, you began to struggle to regain sight of him. Pushing people out of your way slightly more frantically, so much for staying discreet, then you knocked into a women carrying a jar, it clattered to the ground and she glared at you as it smashed. “My apologies.” You said, trying to move on.

“How dare you.” She began.

Then you spotted a guard approaching you through the crowds. “You there.” He bellowed, the sea of people parting for him to make his way to you, a few passers by stopping and watching with keen interest. Did they really have nothing better to do? You mentally questioned.

You hesitated, would it be better to run, but then that could cause further suspicion, it seems you had utterly failed. “Yes, sir.” You responded as civilly as possible.

“What is going on here!” He barked.

“This vandal just destroyed my goods.” The, obviously mean tempered, women explained. “Almost myself in their destructive ways.” She added, so not only mean tempered but overly dramatic as well, this really did not aid you in the situation.

“My humblest apologies, truly I will try and be more careful, I was so caught up in trying to remember my way back to the inn, I must have not been focusing enough. Please except my apologies.” You rambled to try and satisfy her and the guard.

“I will except an apology of payment for my goods, no less.” She spat.

You reluctantly pulled out some coins and passed them to her. “Of course.” You said through gritted teeth.

“Thank you sir.” She said to the guard then walked away, not so much as a word to you.

You gave a nod to the guard and turned to walk off.

“Not so fast. Be less reckless next time women, or I shall see that you regret your thoughtlessness.” He demanded before walking away.

You looked back to the crowd frantically, but Abaan al-Bahri was nowhere in sight. You spent much time looking for him, even asking some merchants if they had seen a man fitting his description, but everything was either a no, or a dead end. Your second worry was Yazan, where was he? The scorching afternoon sun brightly illuminated the grand city, violently blazing down from its cloudless sky. You felt beads of sweat on your neck and forehead, looking around you thought it best to make your way back to the bureau. The walk there seemed to go slowly, feeling weighed down by worry as you went, what if Yazan wasn’t there? If not then where was he?

You passed some beggars that sat looking beaten down and hopeless, robbed of all human dignity, simply abandoned to beg on the streets, kicked aside like vermin and left to the mercy of passing strangers. You looked sympathetically as they reached their hands out to you, each pleading for money, food or water. Though you had little to give for the moment. One man, however, caught your attention, he asked for nothing, simply sat looking at his hands, his head bowed low in surrender, you could see he had given up, and now sat awaiting his end.

You hurried one your way back, taking to the rooftops to gain more speed, it felt empty without Yazan at your side. By the time you reached the bureau the sun was setting, the vibrant yellow and hot orange in the sky was melting the cornflower blue as the sun sank casting its last beams in every direction. You climbed down into the familiar room, your boots clapping with the tiles as you walked into the next room. A pang of anxiety tugged at you upon seeing no Yazan.

“Safety and peace (y/n).” The bureau master said, breaking you free from thought.

“And to you.” You returned.

He raised an eyebrow. “What happened?”

“I lost sight of Abaan al-Bahri, and of Yazan.” You confessed.

“I see...well, tell me what happened.” His tone was not really angry, more concerned.

“I was hiding in a hay cart, watching al-Bahri, after that I saw no more of Yazan. Anyway, I followed Abaan al-Bahri for a long time, but eventually I knocked into a women in effort to get a better sight of him, then a guard came and as you can imagine time dragged by.” You explained. “I completely failed, not to mention al-Bahri had some workers killed because of our little mess.” You sat on the ground, honestly questioning your rights to be an assassin.

“I see, I am afraid things do not always go to plan.” He looked sympathetically towards you. “I will go and see if there is any sign of Yazan, you just stay here.”

You nodded watching him leave. Then bowed your head, you had failed, failed the mission, failed those innocent workers and failed your friend. Silence engulfed you, you hated the calm, the quietness, as the one noise you cannot block out is silence, for at some point it will demand to be heard, and then you will have to suffer it. You felt more alone now than you ever had, wishing Altair could have been here, to feel his strong arms of reassurance, hear his calm voice, see his steady golden eyes. You closed your eyes and thought back to your days with him.

***Flashback***

You fell to the ground, Abbas towered over you as you squinted in the sun to look up to him, his figure stood out starkly against the azure sky while he held his practice blade in mock to your neck. Your chest was heaving and sickness was rising in your stomach. “Little girls shouldn't try and become assassins.” He spat, giving you a firm kick in the gut. You urged slightly at the contact of his boot to your swirling stomach.

“Abbas.” Altair’s voice was a deadly assertive tone, the novices parted for him to walk to the training ring.

The man in question turned, a glare on his face, which was soon overcome with sarcasm. “Ah, if it isn’t the master, Altair. Tell me why is it you defend this girl, is it the promise of her opening her legs for you, hmm?” He threw back.

You felt your blood boil at his comment, sending a sharp kick between his damned legs.

“Ah.” Abbas’s hands shot down to defend his manhood from further abuse. “Whore.” He snarled at you.

That had done it. You kicked Abbas harshly to make him back away, sprung to your feet and tossed a punch at his irritating face. He yelped in pain and sprung back from you, one hand now trying to stop the blood that crawled from his nose. You grabbed your practice blade, Abbas returning a grip on his own.

“Stop.” Rauf demanded. “You have had enough training.” He decided.

You and Abbas reluctantly parted ways, he left over towards a few of his friends, while you followed Altair. Once in the welcome coolness of some shade provided by a high wall you stopped. “You did good, novice.” Altair smiled slightly.

“Thank y-” You began, only to be cut of by his moist lips pressing against yours, he took your hands and pinned them to the wall with his own, you pushed your body against his, sensations of pleasure pulsing through you, leaving an excited heat in your stomach, a moan of desire was lost in his mouth, Altair glided his tongue past your open lips to dance with your own, giving more passion to the hungry kiss. You struggled to get your hands free from his, wanting to grip his robes and pull him closer to you. He pulled his lips away at your struggling, giving you a playfully disapproving look. “Behave novice.” He commanded in jest sternness. Then Altair worked his kisses across your jaw line onto your neck, his lips moving at a torturously leisurely pace, his teeth grazing your sensitive flesh, the pad of his tongue darting out to tease your nerves, finally he hit that aching sweet spot and sucked slowly. You let a whimper of pleasure pass your lips, biting your bottom lip to keep in another moan. He pulled away, giving you a slight smirk before turning to walk off, stopping when he was five feet away from you and beckoning for you to follow.

***End of Flashback***

You found yourself smiling slightly at the memory, until the reality of worry pulled you from your thoughts. You tried to think logically, surly Yazan was fine, hopefully he just got caught up in the crowds. But worry gnawed relentlessly away at you, soon you were pacing the tiled floor, stress making you fidget with your hands. A short time passed, still nothing, should you go out and look for him yourself? Your eyes darted about the room, as if an answer may present itself, you had a sickness rising into your stomach and finally when the daunting thoughts of what might have gone wrong became so invasive that you simply could block them out, you snapped. “I’ll find him myself.” You muttered, pulling your hood up.

Just then you heard somebody drop in, followed by another. The bureau master walked in followed by Yazan. “(y/n), it seems Yazan was on his way back when I came across him.” He explained, smiling slightly as he returned to his desk.

You breathed a sigh of relief. “Yazan, I thought-…”

“I know.” He gently cut you off. “Now, we have much to discuss.”

You nodded, remembering Abaan al-Bahri. “I assume you know I lost his trail?” You let your gaze remain fixed to the floor, ashamed of your failing.

“Yes, I saw the whole thing.” He said, pulling his hood down and removing a few weapons.

“Saw?” You questioned, looking up to meet his deep brown eyes.

“I was on the rooftops above, after you got caught up with the guard I followed Abaan al-Bahri.” He explained.

“So, did you find his location?” You asked, eyes wide with hope now that you may have found the snake’s nest.

He nodded. “He lives in a grand home in the rich district, it has two guardsmen at the door, a further four on the roof, from what I caught glimpses of inside there are a few servants and no other family members.”

“So, when will you two be venturing to his home?” The bureau master questioned, as he began to roll up a map, the sound of the parchment crinkling filled the room as Yazan thought.

“I suppose tonight shall be best.” He said finally.

Nodding the bureau master placed a heavy book down. “Indeed, it probably would be.” He turned, fetching a fresh pot of ink from a small disorganised draw. “Rest for now you two.” He said, waving a hand towards the other room.

You followed Yazan to the pile of cushions and sat down. “So…” He began, leaning back to rest on his elbows. “…when we return to Masyaf do you have any plans.” His voice was relaxed as he let his eyes slip shut in the last warmth of the setting sun.

You fidgeted with your fingers. “Not really.” You mumbled, glancing to see his brown eyes flicker open.

“What is it?” He questioned, sitting up straighter to be close to you.

“I am just….questioning my right to be an assassin.” You admitted, not that you could have expressed your weakness to many people, Yazan was somebody you could always talk to. “I mean, I failed, I caused the deaths of those workers, lost sight of you, became caught up in the crowds.” You ranted, having witnessed the deaths of those workers was still weighing heavy upon your mind.

Yazan placed a hand on your shoulder as his brows drew together. “(y/n), you are still young, mistakes will happen, in truth this mission has become slightly more in depth than I would have expected, you have done well. The deaths of those workers was something that we could not have predicted, losing sight of me was not your fault, I left onto the rooftops while you were stuck in a hay cart, that is hardly a failing, and getting caught in the crowds was a simple mistake, one that many before you have made and many more will.” He reassured.

You smiled. “Thank you. I just…do not want to make any more errors.” You worried aloud.

“I’m sure things will be smoother now, besides, before you know it Altair will be here to aid us.” Yazan gave you a comforting smile. “Get a little rest now, we leave soon.” He instructed, flopping down to the cushions.

You nodded and lay back, turning your back to him as you closed your eyes.

Description
Your eyes snapped open. “Good news you two…” The bureau master was saying, you squinted, it was still dark in the room, the reaching flames of some candles making the shadows retreat and loom over you. “….it has worked, apparently Abaan al-Bahri is coming by the construction sight at first light, get up, you need to be there!” He hurriedly ushered you to get up, practically strapping your weapons on for you. You felt disappointed that your dream had not been reality, but with rushing to get sorted out you had little time to think on it.

“There.” Yazan said, pulling his boots on.

“Good, good, now be on your way.” He said, encouraging you out.

You clambered onto the roof looking at Yazan. “To the Souk al-Silaah then.” He said.

You nodded, still feeling slightly tired. The sky was a lightening blue, littered with only a few stars and the moon, which still hung in the far distance. Forcing your legs into a jog behind him you swiftly travelled the now familiar path across the rooftops, the sun was just begging to rise by the time you climbed the building opposite the trading point. Standing you gazed at the morning view, it was beautiful, the crashing colours of yellow, orange and light blue with retreating soft pink filled the sky in their glorious display. The sun was filled with warmth and the morning air smelt fresh as you inhaled deeply. “Perhaps we should take to the streets? There are plenty of merchants around that we could mingle with.” You suggested.

Yazan looked to you. “Good idea." He agreed. "It is probably less risky than lucking around on the rooftops.”

Soon the both of you were walking into the Souk al-Silaah trading point with a group of merchants, some energetic, others talking, some tired and uninterested and then the worst of all, the grousing ones, that went on and on complaining in depressing tones, the way they dragged themselves along one would think they were off to their execution. You and Yazan stayed in the crowd of cloth merchants, as their stall was just opposite the construction site. Yazan began to make conversation about how he had been trying to find the right fabric for something for so long. They began returning with how ‘wonderful’ theirs was. So he kept them busy talking while you leaned on the stall pretending to be interested.

Meanwhile your eyes scanned to the site, it was devastated, you were actually surprised by just how much damage you two had inflicted. There you spotted a largely build man, large with muscles not fat, his face was impatient and set into deep anger. His hair was long, thick and curly, tied back, which only made his long face look harsher, his beard was short and trimmed exceedingly neatly. The man was dressed in blacks, blues and gold’s, some light steel armour covering his chest and heavy dark brown boots. You could see him talking to a guard, but needed to get closer if you were to properly hear the conversation. Your eyes flicked around in hope of seeing a way, then you spotted a hay cart, it was too far to listen to anything though, if only you could move it. “Brother.” You said suddenly, your eyes flicking to the cart.

“Oh of course, if I am to buy some fine material I shall need my coin purse. Forgive me friends, I will return soon.” He lied smoothly to the cloth merchant family, who all seemed to believe him.

Walking away you began to speak. “There is a ha-…”

“Already on it.” He interrupted.

You smiled. It took some time and blending with crowds before reaching it, once there you sighed. “Now what?” really it’s useless because it is too far.” You pointed out.

“Be quiet and listen.” He instructed, then playfully pushed you into the hay, submerged in it's dusty mass you felt the cart begin to move. Brilliant Yazan, just brilliant, push the cart there and leave it, no one will question. You mentally dreaded the next few minutes. All of a sudden the cart dropped on one side and you heard a snap.

“Oh no, my wheel!” You heard Yazan exclaim, then heard him begin to walk away.

You mentally rolled your eyes at him, though it was a rather ingenious little plan. Now you just had to hope the owner didn’t come by with a pitchfork. You listened carefully, almost holding you breath.

“The men responsible for putting the pillars up, I suggest you step forward.” A mans voice demanded; it was not loud but carried a great wrath in it. A voice that dripped with authority and demanded respect. In this time you had used your dagger to drill a small hole through the thin wood to peek out from.

“It was Alawi.” An older mans voice accused.

“I am to believe one man put every pillar up?” You saw the owner of the demanding voice was the longhaired man that you had spotted earlier.

“No, no.” The older man said hurriedly. “But the end pillars are most important. And it was him, Talal and Ehsan that dealt with the end pillars.” He explained, practically cowering before the man.

The man looked at the crowd of workers. “You three step forward.” He instructed. First came a man who looked to be in his early twenties, he was broad and had calm eyes, standing without any showing emotion he seemed to have excepted his fate. The next to shuffle forward was a terrified looking younger man, perhaps nineteen years of age, his hair was long, with a slight wave to it, his forehead sweating from anxiety as he stood nervously before, who you presumed was, Abaan al-Bahri. “Where is the third?” He asked, his voice remaining an unreadable tone.

“Talal, come on.” The oldest of the workers said.

A young boy came forward, he was trembling, his breathing fast and unsteady, wide brown eyes darted around as his face filled with fear. His build was thin, he was probably only sixteen years old, if that, he had a face that looked like it was normally kind, though now it was mostly plastered in worry. “I…am h...here…master…” He stuttered.

The man gave a nod. “Where you three responsible for the end pillars?”

They were all silent for a moment. The eldest man of three closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. “I was.” His voice was surprisingly strong, not stuttering or showing fear.

“You are?” He asked.

“Ehsan.” He said plainly.

“Where these other two?” The man asked.

“No.” He answered.

A mummer of ‘liar’ went through the other workers.

“So you lie to me now?” The presumably Abaan al-Bahri asked.

“No, I do not lie, these boys were not working on the pillars.” Ehsan reassured.

“I am to believe one man over my entire workforce?” He questioned, a dark eyebrow raised.

“What you believe I can not alter, but I speak the truth, master.” He responded confidently.

“We shall see, we shall see.” He smiled slightly, giving a nod to a man who stood beside him. The man was clearly a personal guard, he dressed in quality armour and had a fine weapon at his waist. Approaching Ehsan he gave a nod to two other private guards that held the young worker by his arms. Then the guard in front pulled out a dagger and stabbed it into the man’s lower stomach.

“Argh.” He let out a cry of pain as a gush of blood spilled from the wound. Your eyes widened, unable to do anything, you knew it would end in al-Bahri’s escape dare you try and help.

“Are you sure these two were not involved.” His commanding tone inquired, a hint of some sick pleasure buried beneath his question.

“You bastard Abaan, I have told you the damn truth.” He snapped back painfully, blood drizzling from the wound.

Well, now you knew this was the man you were hunting, your blood boiled at having to watch this. “Really.” Abaan al-Bahri’s voice had an amused tone as he gave a nod to the guard, who the twisted the dagger in the wound, receiving another deep groan of pain from Ehsan.

“Yes.” He moaned out, only to be punched by the guard, his nose shattering under the guardsman’s fist as a stream of blood began to pour forth. His face screwed up in pain, before he blinked and shock his head. You watched, guilt gripping at your heart for he had done nothing, this was your doing.

Abaan al-Bahri then approached Ehsan personally, pulling out a fine dagger he ran the sharp metal through the young mans delicate flesh on his cheek, his eyes wide and a smile forming on his lips as Ehsan whimpered in pain. Then al-Bahri plunged the dagger through his check into his mouth and shattering some teeth in the process. Ehsan let out a loud cry of agony and tears of pain slid from his dark eyes.

“Stop this!” The nineteen year old, who you guessed was Alawi, cried. “We both worked on the pillars, me and Talal, please don’t make Ehsan suffer anymore.” He begged.

“Finally.” Abaan al-Bahri said. In that moment he pulled out his broad sword, it gleamed in the suns harsh beams. He bought in down upon Alawi, in one swift motion it split the boys head in two and he fell without a sound, blood flowing out and covering the ground.

Your stomach lurched at the sight. Before you could even think. Abaan al-Bahri impaled Talal though his chest, the young boy gave a deep cry and then went limp in death, blood gushing from his wound as his young body slid from the weapon to the ground.

“Curse you.” Ehsan yelled, despite the extreme pain in his mouth.

“Liars go to hell.” Abaan al-Bahri stated, bending down to face Ehsan, who was now on his knees.

Eshan spat a mixture of saliva and blood in the mans face. “Then I shall see you there.” He snarled, just before a guard slit his throat and his body fell meaninglessly to the ground, a dark crimson puddle forming around it. Once again, the blood of the innocent stained the sword of the corrupted.

You clutched your pounding heart, it was beating against your chest, your stomach was twisting inside of you and your mind was racing as tears pricked your eyes. This was your fault, if you had only waited three days. You at least had to focus now, Abaan al-Bahri needed to die. And in order for that to happen, you had to stay as alert as possible.

Blinking away the fresh tears in your eyes you looked back out of the small hole, seeing the three bodies left on the ground, their blood mingling into a large puddle as the other workers stared, their faces filled with horror. “See to it that there are no more mistakes.” Abaan al-Bahri addressed the workers in a casual manner, seeming oblivious to the men’s bodies around him. Then he turned. Tailed by the three guards he left, heading towards the nearest exist.

In a moment you jumped from the hay, mingling in with a small crowd of individuals as you kept your eyes on al-Bahri. The trading point was just starting to become busier, the halls were open, some stalls nearby were all set up with goods and wears that shoppers were examining. A slight shadow of concern crept across you as Yazan was nowhere to be seen. You continued on after your target though, you couldn’t lose him now, if anything those men’s deaths could not be entirely in vain. You tailed the man, trying to calm the anger that boiled in your veins, coursing through your body like a frenzy of hate, staying your blade seemed to take much of your willpower. The old man had ordered you to wait for Altair, surely he had his reasons for wanting as much and you were required to obey that. Once out of the teeming trading point you followed Abaan al-Bahri through the lively morning streets, they were packed with people, the sounds of talking or stall vendors calling out offers cluttered the air. You made your way across a road, pushing carefully through the sea of people milling around. The air was heavy with the suns heat and closed in tightly around you. Your breathing was getting faster as more and more people began to block your vision from Abaan al-Bahri, you began to struggle to regain sight of him. Pushing people out of your way slightly more frantically, so much for staying discreet, then you knocked into a women carrying a jar, it clattered to the ground and she glared at you as it smashed. “My apologies.” You said, trying to move on.

“How dare you.” She began.

Then you spotted a guard approaching you through the crowds. “You there.” He bellowed, the sea of people parting for him to make his way to you, a few passers by stopping and watching with keen interest. Did they really have nothing better to do? You mentally questioned.

You hesitated, would it be better to run, but then that could cause further suspicion, it seems you had utterly failed. “Yes, sir.” You responded as civilly as possible.

“What is going on here!” He barked.

“This vandal just destroyed my goods.” The, obviously mean tempered, women explained. “Almost myself in their destructive ways.” She added, so not only mean tempered but overly dramatic as well, this really did not aid you in the situation.

“My humblest apologies, truly I will try and be more careful, I was so caught up in trying to remember my way back to the inn, I must have not been focusing enough. Please except my apologies.” You rambled to try and satisfy her and the guard.

“I will except an apology of payment for my goods, no less.” She spat.

You reluctantly pulled out some coins and passed them to her. “Of course.” You said through gritted teeth.

“Thank you sir.” She said to the guard then walked away, not so much as a word to you.

You gave a nod to the guard and turned to walk off.

“Not so fast. Be less reckless next time women, or I shall see that you regret your thoughtlessness.” He demanded before walking away.

You looked back to the crowd frantically, but Abaan al-Bahri was nowhere in sight. You spent much time looking for him, even asking some merchants if they had seen a man fitting his description, but everything was either a no, or a dead end. Your second worry was Yazan, where was he? The scorching afternoon sun brightly illuminated the grand city, violently blazing down from its cloudless sky. You felt beads of sweat on your neck and forehead, looking around you thought it best to make your way back to the bureau. The walk there seemed to go slowly, feeling weighed down by worry as you went, what if Yazan wasn’t there? If not then where was he?

You passed some beggars that sat looking beaten down and hopeless, robbed of all human dignity, simply abandoned to beg on the streets, kicked aside like vermin and left to the mercy of passing strangers. You looked sympathetically as they reached their hands out to you, each pleading for money, food or water. Though you had little to give for the moment. One man, however, caught your attention, he asked for nothing, simply sat looking at his hands, his head bowed low in surrender, you could see he had given up, and now sat awaiting his end.

You hurried one your way back, taking to the rooftops to gain more speed, it felt empty without Yazan at your side. By the time you reached the bureau the sun was setting, the vibrant yellow and hot orange in the sky was melting the cornflower blue as the sun sank casting its last beams in every direction. You climbed down into the familiar room, your boots clapping with the tiles as you walked into the next room. A pang of anxiety tugged at you upon seeing no Yazan.

“Safety and peace (y/n).” The bureau master said, breaking you free from thought.

“And to you.” You returned.

He raised an eyebrow. “What happened?”

“I lost sight of Abaan al-Bahri, and of Yazan.” You confessed.

“I see...well, tell me what happened.” His tone was not really angry, more concerned.

“I was hiding in a hay cart, watching al-Bahri, after that I saw no more of Yazan. Anyway, I followed Abaan al-Bahri for a long time, but eventually I knocked into a women in effort to get a better sight of him, then a guard came and as you can imagine time dragged by.” You explained. “I completely failed, not to mention al-Bahri had some workers killed because of our little mess.” You sat on the ground, honestly questioning your rights to be an assassin.

“I see, I am afraid things do not always go to plan.” He looked sympathetically towards you. “I will go and see if there is any sign of Yazan, you just stay here.”

You nodded watching him leave. Then bowed your head, you had failed, failed the mission, failed those innocent workers and failed your friend. Silence engulfed you, you hated the calm, the quietness, as the one noise you cannot block out is silence, for at some point it will demand to be heard, and then you will have to suffer it. You felt more alone now than you ever had, wishing Altair could have been here, to feel his strong arms of reassurance, hear his calm voice, see his steady golden eyes. You closed your eyes and thought back to your days with him.

***Flashback***

You fell to the ground, Abbas towered over you as you squinted in the sun to look up to him, his figure stood out starkly against the azure sky while he held his practice blade in mock to your neck. Your chest was heaving and sickness was rising in your stomach. “Little girls shouldn't try and become assassins.” He spat, giving you a firm kick in the gut. You urged slightly at the contact of his boot to your swirling stomach.

“Abbas.” Altair’s voice was a deadly assertive tone, the novices parted for him to walk to the training ring.

The man in question turned, a glare on his face, which was soon overcome with sarcasm. “Ah, if it isn’t the master, Altair. Tell me why is it you defend this girl, is it the promise of her opening her legs for you, hmm?” He threw back.

You felt your blood boil at his comment, sending a sharp kick between his damned legs.

“Ah.” Abbas’s hands shot down to defend his manhood from further abuse. “Whore.” He snarled at you.

That had done it. You kicked Abbas harshly to make him back away, sprung to your feet and tossed a punch at his irritating face. He yelped in pain and sprung back from you, one hand now trying to stop the blood that crawled from his nose. You grabbed your practice blade, Abbas returning a grip on his own.

“Stop.” Rauf demanded. “You have had enough training.” He decided.

You and Abbas reluctantly parted ways, he left over towards a few of his friends, while you followed Altair. Once in the welcome coolness of some shade provided by a high wall you stopped. “You did good, novice.” Altair smiled slightly.

“Thank y-” You began, only to be cut of by his moist lips pressing against yours, he took your hands and pinned them to the wall with his own, you pushed your body against his, sensations of pleasure pulsing through you, leaving an excited heat in your stomach, a moan of desire was lost in his mouth, Altair glided his tongue past your open lips to dance with your own, giving more passion to the hungry kiss. You struggled to get your hands free from his, wanting to grip his robes and pull him closer to you. He pulled his lips away at your struggling, giving you a playfully disapproving look. “Behave novice.” He commanded in jest sternness. Then Altair worked his kisses across your jaw line onto your neck, his lips moving at a torturously leisurely pace, his teeth grazing your sensitive flesh, the pad of his tongue darting out to tease your nerves, finally he hit that aching sweet spot and sucked slowly. You let a whimper of pleasure pass your lips, biting your bottom lip to keep in another moan. He pulled away, giving you a slight smirk before turning to walk off, stopping when he was five feet away from you and beckoning for you to follow.

***End of Flashback***

You found yourself smiling slightly at the memory, until the reality of worry pulled you from your thoughts. You tried to think logically, surly Yazan was fine, hopefully he just got caught up in the crowds. But worry gnawed relentlessly away at you, soon you were pacing the tiled floor, stress making you fidget with your hands. A short time passed, still nothing, should you go out and look for him yourself? Your eyes darted about the room, as if an answer may present itself, you had a sickness rising into your stomach and finally when the daunting thoughts of what might have gone wrong became so invasive that you simply could block them out, you snapped. “I’ll find him myself.” You muttered, pulling your hood up.

Just then you heard somebody drop in, followed by another. The bureau master walked in followed by Yazan. “(y/n), it seems Yazan was on his way back when I came across him.” He explained, smiling slightly as he returned to his desk.

You breathed a sigh of relief. “Yazan, I thought-…”

“I know.” He gently cut you off. “Now, we have much to discuss.”

You nodded, remembering Abaan al-Bahri. “I assume you know I lost his trail?” You let your gaze remain fixed to the floor, ashamed of your failing.

“Yes, I saw the whole thing.” He said, pulling his hood down and removing a few weapons.

“Saw?” You questioned, looking up to meet his deep brown eyes.

“I was on the rooftops above, after you got caught up with the guard I followed Abaan al-Bahri.” He explained.

“So, did you find his location?” You asked, eyes wide with hope now that you may have found the snake’s nest.

He nodded. “He lives in a grand home in the rich district, it has two guardsmen at the door, a further four on the roof, from what I caught glimpses of inside there are a few servants and no other family members.”

“So, when will you two be venturing to his home?” The bureau master questioned, as he began to roll up a map, the sound of the parchment crinkling filled the room as Yazan thought.

“I suppose tonight shall be best.” He said finally.

Nodding the bureau master placed a heavy book down. “Indeed, it probably would be.” He turned, fetching a fresh pot of ink from a small disorganised draw. “Rest for now you two.” He said, waving a hand towards the other room.

You followed Yazan to the pile of cushions and sat down. “So…” He began, leaning back to rest on his elbows. “…when we return to Masyaf do you have any plans.” His voice was relaxed as he let his eyes slip shut in the last warmth of the setting sun.

You fidgeted with your fingers. “Not really.” You mumbled, glancing to see his brown eyes flicker open.

“What is it?” He questioned, sitting up straighter to be close to you.

“I am just….questioning my right to be an assassin.” You admitted, not that you could have expressed your weakness to many people, Yazan was somebody you could always talk to. “I mean, I failed, I caused the deaths of those workers, lost sight of you, became caught up in the crowds.” You ranted, having witnessed the deaths of those workers was still weighing heavy upon your mind.

Yazan placed a hand on your shoulder as his brows drew together. “(y/n), you are still young, mistakes will happen, in truth this mission has become slightly more in depth than I would have expected, you have done well. The deaths of those workers was something that we could not have predicted, losing sight of me was not your fault, I left onto the rooftops while you were stuck in a hay cart, that is hardly a failing, and getting caught in the crowds was a simple mistake, one that many before you have made and many more will.” He reassured.

You smiled. “Thank you. I just…do not want to make any more errors.” You worried aloud.

“I’m sure things will be smoother now, besides, before you know it Altair will be here to aid us.” Yazan gave you a comforting smile. “Get a little rest now, we leave soon.” He instructed, flopping down to the cushions.

You nodded and lay back, turning your back to him as you closed your eyes.