Assassin's Creed: Brothers Unite (#Wattys2016) |Assassin's Creed Fanfiction|

Chapter 1 Altaïr

These people believe they are doing good. Why do I need to kill them?

I brushed the feather, stained dark brown with blood, against my palm. I looked out at the Templar army. There were so many! How do we stand any chance at all?

"Bring forth the hostage!" the commander shouted.

A soldier shoved an assassin forward before skewering him with his sword. None of the assassins moved. No one shot at the retreating soldier. Fools.

"That is where you are wrong," Al Mualim called down. "My men don't fear death! These assassins will prove that!"

"Follow my lead," I said quietly. Malik nodded.

"Go with peace!" Al Mualim dipped his head slightly.

I leaped off the platform, flipping about half way to the ground. I closed my eyes as I hit the haystack. My back bumped the stones on the overhang. I must not have hit the middle, the deepest part, of the haystack. Shouts of pain reached my ears as I pushed myself out.

"Quiet," Malik said soothingly. "The Templars will hear us."

The assassin stopped yelling and straightened his leg with a crack. I winced, suddenly feeling sorry for him. I knew what a broken leg felt like. It's not something that I would like to have happen to me again.

"You go on without us," Malik said. "We'll catch up."

No, they won't. All the same, I nodded and ran along the ropes that stretched from ledge to ledge. When I reached the wall behind the watchtower I climbed up as fast as I could. I'd never been in the watchtower before. It was a huge wooden room built into the cliff face. Ropes hung everywhere in tangled knots. I knew that if I cut a certain one, logs would roll off of the roof. But which rope? I took a random guess and cut it, fervently hoping the watchtower wouldn't collapse.

There was a loud rumble as the whole front fell forward. I had a moment of panic before I realized that I wasn't going to fall to my death. Logs rolled onto the road below, crushing the Templar army. The assassins cheered as what remained of the army fled into the mountains.

I scanned the ground for a haystack. I didn't see one, so I decided a pile of leaves would do fine.

"Altaïr!" Ilak called. "Al Mualim said that you are to go to Nassau and find an assassin that can help you kill Shay. You are not allowed to return until Shay is dead."

"Thank you Ilak," I said. "I shall do as he says."

"Peace and safety Alaïr, and good luck."

I walked through the ruined streets to the wall. The wooden wall was mostly burned but the gate, amazingly, hadn't collapsed. The small horse stable was almost completely empty. Blade trotted over to me. Her flanks were covered in blood.

"Are you okay?" I asked patting her shoulder.

"I live, that is all that matters," Blade snorted.

"Yes, but are you fit to travel?"

"Always."

"You're sure?"

Blade nudged me. "Stop fretting and let's go! I shall live. If it calms you, I will say that the blood isn't mine."

I pulled myself into the saddle and Blade galloped down the trail. Dust and smoke flew from her hooves, and when we reached the sea, steam. She ran over the water as though it were solid ground, not liquid. After an hour or so, Blade braced her legs in the sand and slowed to a trot. The ocean crashed to the right and to the left stood what I assumed was Nassau.

Blade stopped. "I should not go any further. It would be... oh what's the word? Suspicious, for me to continue."

I slid out of the saddle. "Good idea," I said. "Stay safe."

Blade nuzzled my hand, bridle clinking. "I will. Peace be with you, as the assassins would say," she snorted. "Good-bye, Altaïr."

Blade turned and trotted away. I watched her go, wishing that she could follow me into Nassau.

I looked up at the walls and smiled. Assassin, I thought. Here I come!