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Altair ibn-La’Ahad had found Malik just outside the bureau, collapsed from exhaustion. It looked as if he had pulled a few too many all-night shifts to get several maps done for clients that paid, in his opinion, far too little for Malik’s meticulous work. Altair quickly lifted him into his arms the Dai and carried him inside, his personal room, and laid him down on his pillows. He pulled a blanket over the exhausted Dai before he left the room to leave him alone. At this point, he was a simple rank six again, but he couldn’t just leave Malik alone out in the open. What if the guards stumbled on him? That would have been disastrous. Altair returned to the front and sat in his typical corner, meditating on his form of relaxation and focus before a mission. Yes, he had the information on Majd Addin, but Malik’s health mattered more than the tyrant who was waiting to have a public execution of those he deemed threats. Templars were a stain on the land, but Altair focused.

Malik stirred waking late into the night when the moon was at its highest. He looked around, finding himself inside the bureau, in his room. Sure, he had help around the bureau but…no, did that novice? Malik’s thoughts drifted to Altair ibn-La’Ahad; the man had been a thorn in his side since he first laid eyes on him as a child. Their fathers had been friends, but Malik hated that his father often said he should be more like Altair. It had made him sick. Yet, if Altair had been the one who brought him inside, then…maybe he was learning, maybe he was genuinely changing. He didn’t hear the city alarm, so Altair was waiting?! Majd Addin was not a Templar to let live much longer than needed…but then Malik thought about what likely had happened. He did collapse, passing out just outside the safety of the bureau, in the civilian area. If the guards had found him then he may have faced the same punishment Altair had for breaking the last tent of the creed. Malik sighed, Altair had learned well and covered his ass.

When morning rose, Malik awoke feeling better than he had in a while. Yes, he knew Altair was out there, if not in the bureau, then somewhere in the city. He best gets moving to get the day started. However, he was surprised to see Altair assisting the other novices in getting the bureau open. He was flabbergasted. The Altair he knew would never get his hands dirty like this, to damn proud. Come to think of it, he had a hard time getting the higher-ranked assassins to do anything, so he had to have all the information ready for them. Maybe…that was another reason he had snapped at Altair a few weeks back, Talal had been a pain to get any information on, and the fully fledged that had been in the city prior to Altair’s arrival had been much worse really compared to Altair that he had snapped at him. Speaking of the Novice, he had noticed him and greeted him.

“Safety and Peace Dai.”
“Upon you as well Novice.”

Malik paused, he had to ask.

“Did…did you get me inside yesterday?”
“Yes, Malik. You passed out from exhaustion. For all your talk to me about acting as an assassin should, you need to take your own advice sometimes. Otherwise, who would I have to speak to?”

Malik wasn’t put off by Altair’s comment. He was right. And he didn’t like it. But then he thought, maybe when I spoke to him, he had the same thought.

“Thank you, Altair. You are right, as much as it pains me to admit. I do need to take my own advice. Let us get breakfast then we can speak of what you have learned of Majd Addin.”
“That will be great my friend. Did you sleep well?”
“Yes, actually thank you for asking.”
“You’re welcome.”

After they ate, they entered the main shop of the bureau and Altair explained.

“Jerusalem Regent, Majd Addin is holding a public execution not far from here. It's sure to be well-guarded. I know what the expected course of action should be from training, but I think we both know things rarely go to plan.”
“Indeed. You cannot know anything, only suspect. You must expect to be wrong, to have overlooked something. Anticipate. But I see I don’t have to remind you. I am impressed.”
“Anything else?”
“There is one more thing. One of the men to be executed is a brother, one of us. Al Mualim wishes for him to be saved. Do not worry about the actual rescue; my men will take care of that. But you must ensure Majd Addin does not take his life.”
“I will do what I can to ensure both goals are achieved.”
“I can ask no more. Here.”

Malik presents him with the feather marker and watches Altair leave. Altair had changed, had grown. He was happy and grateful though there was still a void in his heart. His father had yelled at him for being so careless as to allow Kadar to die, and to become crippled, that in his anger he had aggravated a preexisting condition and died in front of him, hate being the last words to leave his lips and forever torment his sone with. It hurt deeply, yet Altair seemed a balm to that pain. He had hoped. When Altair returned an hour later, he looked wry and tired. Malik saw him took the feather and spoke.

“You have done well brother, rest, eat, clean up, then ride for Masyaf.”
“Thank you, Malik. Though I thought I might have messed up in some way.”
“No No not this time Novice. You performed as an Assassin should, no more, no less. Though I am curious why do you seek praise for merely doing as you are told?”
“I wasn’t aware that I do. I apologize for doing so. Though admittedly when I know I have earned it I feel better about myself…self-esteem I guess.”

Malik nodded knowing too well what Altair meant. He walked him to the back and had him lie down first to get rest before he cleaned up, ate then left. Yes, they had both changed for the better.

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The memory was a strange one for Desmond as he bled Altair for the first time in two years. He was living with Malik Al-Sayf, and he had recently spoken of how he used to torment Altair when he was climbing back up the ranks after losing his master assassin rank. Desmond was in the grips of memory, the modern world around him faded to memory and Malik could only watch as his beloved partner changed.
To Desmond, lost in the memory he was trying to escape, he was glued in place and did not understand why he could clearly see the Jerusalem bureau and Malik standing near to the rooftop entrance where a tub of water had been placed right where Altair would drop. Desmond was surprised to see Altair begin his descent only to catch himself as he somehow noticed the tub of water beneath him. Malik on one hand was impressed Altair noticed but was also annoyed he wasn’t a sopping mess for having dropped right into the water. Malik smirked and decided to turn this into a lesson.
“You are learning Novice to not just drop into situations, but You cannot know anything. Only suspect. You must expect to be wrong, to have overlooked something. Anticipate. I already told you this when you were here to assassinate Majd Addin.”
“What have I done this time to earn this ire? You know I hate water.”
Even Desmond waited to hear the answer which came simply.
“This was not I this time Novice. Other assassins who still think you unchanged set this up.”
“How do I know you aren’t responsible?”
“Just drop already Novice. You know you can’t hang on forever and do not have the strength to pull yourself back up.”
Altair growled before he dropped. Malik smiled as Altair was drenched in water and spoke.
“You really need to face your fears, Novice. It was the only reason I did not remove this before you returned. Why do you hate the water so?”
“We as humans have pretty much conquered the wild, yet water is one of the few things that despite our mastery over it still has a wild heart to it. That at any given moment a strong swimmer like Abbas could still drown.”
“Ah, a healthy fear but you are letting it control you too much Novice.”
Desmond was sure there was more, but the bleed faded out as he heard Malik calling for him as he returned to the modern waking world, his gaze now on the Dai who looked worried.
To Malik, watching Desmond “bleed” was terrifying. He had no idea what he could have been seeing, though there was confusion on Desmond’s face along with him turning his head to listen. A little tic of his when you really had his attention. Malik saw fondness cross Desmond’s face before he noticed Desmond’s focus return and he called out to him.
“Desmond, kulu shay bialnisbat la (my everything), is all well? You…bled.”
“I am aware I bled. It was when Altair was still a Novice. You had a tub of water beneath the entrance of the bureau’s roof, and he really hung on as to not drop.”
“Oh, I remember that day. He let me know why he feared water so much.”
“Did he ever get over it?”
“Not really. He could swim in calm waters, but any turbulence and he wouldn’t dare enter it.”
Desmond looked down. His other four ancestors, yes even Haythem Kenway could swim. Hell, even he could swim too, so why was it that Altair was so scared? Ezio loved swimming merely for fun but when he’d been in Venice, he was grateful his father made him learn to swim. Edward was a privateer and a pirate and no pirate worth his salt wouldn’t risk Davy Jones’ locker by not knowing how to swim. Haythem was taught by his father Edward and Brich made sure he kept up with his swimming lessons. Connor was a native American and that was a no-brainer rite of passage. Desmond was trained to swim by being tossed into Pactola Lake more than once until he learned to float and swim on his own and he did that by age seven. It was the one time other than when he said he wanted to be the best assassin ever that he ever saw pride on his father’s face. Malik saw the despair on Desmond’s face and spoke.
“eazizi alqalb (dear heart), what is wrong?”
“Oh, ah, partly wonder what is wrong with Altair that he really didn’t take to swimming and partly remembering one of two times my father was ever proud of me.”
Malik’s heart shattered to hear that from Desmond and took him into a one-armed hug before he said.
“All is well now dear. I will not allow that jirkuad min alrajul (Jerkwad of a man) to harm you ever again you have my word, my love.”
“Thanks, Malik. I love you and thank you for sharing this with me. It’s good to learn more about Altair from someone who knew him personally.”
Malik looked at Desmond and smiled. Desmond was always so grateful for anything he could tell him about Altair, the Levent Brotherhood, and life in Syria in general it made him miss home, but he was grateful someone was interested. Desmond was also so respectful of the fact that he was still a devoted practicing Muslim. They had seen a meme about these two fictional characters that said.
“Saw two literal gods, still is a devote Catholic, saw two literal gods, still an atheist.”
That meme described Malik to the letter how he felt after learning about the Isu even now from Desmond close to nine hundred years after his own death. The fact that he was still so devoted after coming back from death was a testament to how strong his faith was. Desmond looked at him fondly and nestled beside him to relax for a bit before they had to continue their day.

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Ezio Auditore was sure he had been only interested in women as he flirted easily with them and if things hadn’t gone as they had, may have married Christina. Yet right now a deep flush of scarlet spread across his face as his best friend Leonardo Da’Vinci leaned in and whispered a lot of the same things he would say to women to woo them to bed. Didn’t help that Leo was grabbing his butt. Ezio tried not to react, but his face said it all. He was confused, he enjoyed it when women flirted back with him, so this felt like that but better strangely. He just stood there in silence unsure of what to say to his closest friend, this side of him he didn’t know existed among other things he was learning about his friend. Ezio though was starting to learn things about himself that he may have never known otherwise.
Leonardo Da’Vinci damn well knew he was gay. Knew that as soon as he hit puberty. He kept his flirting with men to a minimum if anything lest he get himself arrested again. That was not something he cared for when it came to the guard of Florence. The board often targeted him. He was afraid he would have to suffer in silence but then he met Ezio who defended him from a guard. That had been their first chance meeting early on, the next was when Ezio’s mother Maria Auditore had brought him along to assist in getting the paintings she had commissioned. The young man was the exact same as he had been when they first met. Someone who would defend others and help those who needed help. The third encounter just shortly after Ezio’s father and brothers died, was telling. Ezio was still willing to help, but he wasn’t so carefree anymore. The cruel world had taken his innocence.
Now standing next to Ezio, leaning in, and whispering tender sweet nothings into the ear of the former nobleman, as he simply and gently fondled that nice tight rear end he had, Leonardo had the intention of helping Ezio to relax from the stress of his self-imposed mission to exact vengeance on those who took his father and brothers, who had defiled his mother and traumatized him and his sister. However, he could see that maybe Ezio was a little unsure if not uncomfortable with how close he was and what he was saying. Leonardo let up letting Ezio gather himself and calm down before he spoke to the young man who was seven years younger than him. Leonardo was indeed many things, but he never dared to take advantage of anyone. Not one of his students, not one of his patrons, and above all not those he called his friends and family.
Ezio was confused as to why Leo let up before he understood. Leo was sweet and would think of others before himself. Realizing that he understood now why Leo had been flirting with him made his heart hurt with realization. He had not relaxed for who knows how long. How many templars and conspirators by this point had died to his hand? How many of their minions did he kill for simply being blindly loyal to their master’s cause and never thinking for themselves? Now he stood here, with a close and trusted friend who was willing to help him relax, and he acted like a schoolboy. He could hear Federico teasing him now about it that he could not read the signals he was getting. It was embarrassing really, Ezio Auditore the self-proclaimed flirt of Flornce could not see when someone was flirting with him. Shameful really. Not that anyone would know anyway.
Leonardo watched Ezio process it all watching just how smart the assassin really was. This was indeed all for Ezio yet there was some part that was for him too. Like learning when Ezio was deep in thought, he had a certain look in his eyes, distant yet focused. He had seen Ezio use his gift and saw that his dark brown eyes became a rich golden brown when he used his special Eagle Vision as it had been called. Leonardo found Ezio all sorts of interesting and wanted to learn more about his friend but would not push him given everything he had been through already. Ezio was forced to take up the mantle of assassin without knowing anything about being an assassin and he was right there with him as he learned. Leo hated that Ezio did not get to have the life he had wanted to be a banker like his father and marry the woman of his dreams.
But such was fate now. Ezio came to understand that as did Leonardo. There were things they both had wanted and now could not do. Leonardo would be there at Ezio’s side since he needed a loyal friend who would not turn on him because someone in power said so. Ezio made his choice too. He knew Leonardo was reaching out a hand to help him and he just needed to take that hand to assist him in getting back onto his feet and get a life that was theirs. Yes, theirs. Ezio wanted things to work out between him and Leonardo because he wanted him to remain in his life. The choice was rarely something they had so now he would take it. Leonardo smiled and looked at Ezio, seeing him making a daring choice. He had hoped that Ezio would finally see they could work. They smiled at one another.
This bliss was a fond memory for both Desmond Miles and his friend Shaun Hastings as they both were able to experience this memory. Shaun was still very much into Rebecca, but he had a deeper understanding of Desmond now through his ancestor Ezio. Now he understood that Desmond was not riding on the coattails of his ancestors and that he had to work hard just as hard as anyone else.

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This game of chess was going as predictable as Altair’s arrogance. Malik had already captured three of Altair’s pieces and the novice was thinking hard on his next move, while Malik was already ten moves ahead of him anticipating all of Altair’s moves. No matter how many times Altair thought he was getting ahead Malik would retake the lead. This had always been since they had been young and now as adult men, both being twenty-seven it was getting annoying for him. Malik didn’t take it easy on Altair, he was trying to get him to see how the concepts of chess applied to the real world. This was often annoying to them both though Malik tried to remain patient with him on the matter. Another victory for the king of swords was assured, and he sighed as Altair lost and said nothing, he had learned a lot but didn’t seem to learn from their games that he needed to anticipate.
Malik was busy working when he heard Darim and Sef yelling in the yard below at each other. Darim was always the studious one whereas Sef was a bit more carefree when came to his studies. They were deep in a shouting match as Altair was away on a mission to Amaunt. Malik sighed seeing Maria trying to get her boys to calm down before he approached and gave both boys a stern look that made them both realize that the Dai was angry at them both. They looked ready to apologize before Malik’s gaze softened. He and Altair had been roughly Sef’s age of eight when Altair’s father Umar had introduced them to chess. So, he beckoned them to join him as he showed them the worn and old chess set that he and their father still played chess on from time to time. He then, like their grandfather had, showed them how to play and soon both boys had the hang of the game and were having fun.
Maria had been grateful to Malik for showing them the game because it gave them something to bond over and they could hear Darim win each time cause much like his uncle Malik, he could anticipate Sef’s moves ten moves out and Sef was just like his dad. But there was a difference though. While Sef never got better over the years with chess, he was a good sport about losing…much like Kadar had been. It was almost as if Kadar had been reborn as this sweet boy. Malik had hoped that both boys would outlive him and Altair, and of course, he thought of his own son too, outliving him. Malik smiled though going about his days in relative peace, playing chess with the boys or Altair. Darim was a challenge but a welcome one. Maria even knew how to play and was a challenge to beat probably the only one who could beat Malik. What a woman indeed.
Throughout the years though Chess became the staple game of Assassins across the world. Ezio learned to play at a young age and would often lose to his father and older brother, though once they died never had time to play anymore. Only on three occasions did he play. One time with Zio Mario. One time with Prince Suliman he learned the Ottoman variation of the game. And one last time with Claudia before Shao Jun arrived and his death. Edward Kenway played a few times though his favored games were more liar’s dice, but he was decent at chess. Haythem Kenway could have been called a Chess Grandmaster in hindsight good he was, that he took time to teach his son Conner, who enjoyed that shared hobby. Desmond Miles had been forced to learn it as one of his many lessons as it was a means to teach strategy. He never cared for the game until he bled his ancestors and had a deeper understanding of the game.
Now here Desmond sat in a world unknown to him, raised up as a holy figure in a war he didn’t ask to be a part of playing chess with one of his advisors and the man was good, but with all his skills in Chess from five total ancestors who knew the game well, yes somehow he bled Edward but he wasn’t going to think too hard on that it was useful and that was what mattered. He like Malik and Darim was ten steps ahead of the blonde-haired commander before him, but he was no slouch though. He had made him rethink more than once but he understood what Malik meant in his writings that Maria Thrope was a challenge that could bring him close to defeat and had defeated him more than once before, but it was because she was that good at the game and he had then understood why Da Sable had allowed her in his knights.
Despite the blonde’s skill, Desmond was simply the more experienced player and when Desmond won the blonde commander sat back and smiled before he spoke to Desmond
“You play well Inquisitor. I am impressed. Thank you for this.”
“Anytime Commander. Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself you did great too.”
“That is true, but you are the better player.”
The commander said before he got up and spoke.
“I really should go. You know how the rest of the council is if I am not there.”
“Right. I should check on the others. We just only recently started to make strides on repairing the hold, I want to see how everyone is adjusting.”
“Good. See you later Inquisitor.”
There was a fondness in the commander’s voice before he left. Desmond looked about and free-ran to the highest point of their new fortress and synced with the fortress. He saw his companions scattered about doing their own things. He still could not fathom all of this but here he was in his own Masyaf, Monteriggioni, Davenport Mannor, leading his own group. Maybe he really did have it in him to be a leader, who knew?

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Malik could not for the life of him figure out how he had gotten pinned to the wall by…well…his dearest friend from childhood. Jasmine Al-Naar had been with them since she was very young. She never truly opened up about her past and only recently because Altair had become mentor did, she get the chance to continue her assassin training. Rashid had known she was a talented partially trained assassin, but he had an unnecessary bias that women couldn’t be assassins as it was too gruesome of a task for their delicate sensibilities. And yet here he was pinned to the wall like target practice for the rank-five assassin female. Damn he was turned on. How could he not be? While she hadn’t been trained prior, she had an advantage over the other women kept for the pleasure and creation of future assassin generations. She was free to roam around the keep. She was respected and she showed respect even to novices and initiates. At roughly age thirteen for her and sixteen for him, Rashid, seeing how they got along, made it clear they should be married. While neither liked the idea of being forced they had to agree in this case they did love each other, and it would be ok. So that is how Jasmine Al-Naar became Jasmine Al-Sayf. Malik’s love for her only continued to grow as she supported him. She gave him praise when he reached Master Assassin not long after Altair. She comforted him when his father belittled him passing away from a hidden silent health issue, Jasmine being from the future knew it was a brain aneurysm. She was there when he lost Kadar, and his arm speaking up for him when Altair was confronted. She expressed pride at his new rank and assignment. She was his rock, and he was grateful. Though it was moments like these he wondered why she had to be related to Altair.
Jasmine was not trying to be cruel or funny, pinning her husband against the wall with her throwing knives. It was practice as well as a reminder that she wasn’t a trophy wife or some pretty thing to so off. She was a deadly viper much like the rest of them. She was grateful for everything she had been given and fought with the fury of a fire to protect it. She was proud when he achieved the rank of master assassin. Faheem said nothing to Malik which had left him hollow and cold. She never wanted to see him like that again. When Faheem yelled at Malik one day before suffering an aneurysm, she was there. She knew even with modern medicine there was little she could do for Faheem and while Malik stood cold and numb to seeing his father die before his eyes, Jasmine at least ensured he did not pass alone. She had a bad feeling when both Malik and Kadar along with Altair were sent to Solomon’s Temple. She had begged Rashid to reconsider sending Kadar to no avail and Kadar died on that mission. She had watched her husband stagger in gripping a bag and his left arm which dangled uselessly at his side. She had him lean on her as she walked him to Rashid’s office where he was lying into Altair already. When he asked Kadar and Malik, Altair coolly said dead but Malik’s sharp voice responded that he was at least alive. That whole thing aside Jasmine displayed her strength and carried her husband to the healer’s as he was too weak from blood loss to move further. Jasmine hated to leave his side, but the healer’s ward was on a side that was prone to easy attack from the templars, and she rallied the assassins in the area to defend their home from the bolder of De Sable’s men. The French grandmaster saw her leadership and even threw a few biting remarks at Rashid for holding back such a talented individual.
After the fight, Jasmine had to be held back from attacking Altair directly as she hurled every insult and curse in the book at him not just in Arabic but Turkish, French, Spanish, Italian, Welsh, and Mohawk as well as made rude gestures to him too. Abbas somehow found this all too funny that Altair was getting cursed at by a woman. Rashid had him silenced before he calmly commended her for her bravery permitting her the use of her hidden blade she had arrived with and then calmly asked her to return to Malik’s side while he took care of Altair. She calmed down and returned to Malik who was in a drug-induced rest post-surgery to remove his lower left arm. It didn’t matter to her that he was no longer whole, but he was still the man she loved and had married. Many tried to have her forget and move on from the cripple, but she turned them all away. No one saw that she was trying to live up to an impossible standard, live up to the expectations of a man yet to be born but she couldn’t escape her own father. Not when she was worried for her brothers. She hoped that one day she could return with Malik at her side to her father and show him she wasn’t so useless. And that was why now she was taking her training under Altair and the others so seriously. She had something to prove. She threw the last three of her knives before she approached Malik. She gave him a heartfelt loving kiss, and quickly removed the knives causing him to drop unsteadily to his feet. He could not be mad at her. Not with how beautiful, smart, wise, cunning, and brave she was. He wanted to give her father a piece of his mind for discarding such a treasure. She was an asset and even Mentor Altair ibn-La’Ahad knew that. They embraced and went off to find said novice to get him to relax for a bit too. Teaming up with Maria to get Altair out of his office.

Chapter Text

For Desmond, waking up after dying in the afterlife was a bit strange. He was never sure where or what it would be for the Assassins, especially once they had mortal faith shattered by discovering the Isu. He seemed to wander for a bit before he heard the soft almost inaudible footsteps of two assassins approaching him. He froze, his heart racing. He had no idea who they were until he heard.
“Ciao fratello. Benvenuto amico mio. (Hello, my brother. Welcome my friend.)”
“Ezio? Sei tu? (Ezio? Is that you?)”
“Sì, come lo sai? (Yes, how do you know?)”
“Sono il tuo discendente. Hai sentito il mio nome. Mi hai parlato quando hai posato la lama. (I am your descendant. You have heard my name. You spoke to me when you laid your blade down.)”
“Tu sei Desmond? veramente? Il nome Minerva pronunciato tanto tempo fa? (You are Desmond? truly? The name Minerva spoke so long ago?)”
“SÌ. Ho ricevuto entrambi i messaggi. Sono il motivo per cui sono qui. Sono morto per salvare il mondo dall'incendio. Ero così stanco e così stanco della vita, eppure non potevo condannare così tante persone a bruciare. (Yes. I got both messages. They are why I am here. I-I died to save the world from burning. I was just so tired and so done with life, yet I could not doom so many to burn.)
There was sadness in Desmond’s voice as Ezio approached him carefully and hugged him knowing full well that Desmond was tired and sad. Hurting. Ezio glanced at his companion who spoke up and asked.
“hal 'ant rad ean akhtiarik dizmundi? (Are you content with your choice Desmond?)”
There was a sight snort before Desmond looked up at his other ancestor and spoke.
“Kan ladaya khiaran sakhifan. dae alealam yahtariq wyudea shakhsiatan shabihatan bialmasihi. 'aw 'umut wa'anqadh albashariat ealaa alraghm min 'anah sayatimu 'iitlaq sarah 'iisu almusamaa jwnu. bada hadha al'akhir 'aqala fawdaa. (I had two shitty choices. Let the world burn and be called a Christ-like figure. Or I die and save humanity although an Isu called Juno would be set free. That last one seemed less messy.)”
Altair nodded understanding Desmond’s real lack of choice regardless of what seemed to be a choice. He approached carefully and hugged his descendant as well. It did not matter to him that they were all dead, Desmond was family and family meant everything to both Altair and Ezio. Ezio wiped an errant tear from Desmond’s face and said softly to him in English.
“Come there are others who await you. A family so to speak. Seeing as even by your words, you had none.”
“Tell me about it Ezio. I was jealous of you for always having one at every point in your life. Even in the end, you had Sofia, Flavia, Marcello, and Claudia.”
Desmond paused and turned to Altair and spoke.
“You I am jealous of due to the network of friends and colleagues you have. Even when you retook Masyaf from Abbas, you had Tazim and his friends.”
Both men knew that they would have to show Desmond what it was like because he very clearly never had it before and was on his own often. The trio soon started off towards where the others waited. When they arrived, Desmond was surprised it wasn’t just Altair and Ezio’s respective branches and families, but Edward and his crew were there, Conner with Achilles, and surprisingly Haythem Kenway stood off to the side with Conner’s mother both watching their son with pride in their eyes. Yet it was not just them, other assassins were present. Shaun had chewed his ear off about the Frye Twins and here they were acting like siblings while interacting with Yusuf Tazim. Arno Dorin was present as well able to hold a conversation with Maria Therpoe in French despite the years of language evolution between them. Even Almuat herself stood watching all of this, proud of what became of her hidden ones. Desmond almost broke down when an Egyptian man approached him and asked in heavily accented English.
“Are you alright Fledgling?”
“Yeah…just overwhelmed.”
Desmond paused and looked up at the man and asked.
“I am terribly sorry, but I am afraid I do not know who you are. I am Desmond Miles, you are?”
“It is all right. I got what I wanted from that. I am Bayek. I was once married to Almuat as you know her, but I knew her as Aya.”
Bayek said and Desmond smiled shaking the man’s hand. There was not much on the brotherhood in its early years and yet here he was standing with both founders of the brotherhood. He frowned before he asked of Ezio.
“Regarding Haythem, is he an exception or are there other Templars around?”
“I’ll let him answer that one.”
Ezio answered and Haythem nodded before speaking.
“In this exact area, it is just myself and Thrope. However no, there are others. They would like to meet you as well but for the sake of keeping things…orderly they decided to wait.”
“I do not understand why they want to meet me.”
Desmond said a bit defeated before Jacob Frye spoke up.
“You are the best of Desmond. You just saved humanity from burning. I can’t speak for them crosses but I like being alive then being crispy fried.”
Evie elbowed him in the gut for that one and everyone laughed. Haythem after calming down said.
“The sentiment is similar though more of someone who was willing to view both sides of the war and respect the choices made even if you didn’t agree with them.”
“Sorry still can’t wrap my head around at least three dumb moves on the Templars' part. A) why the hell would you send a low-ranking assassin on a mission with two master assassins who are more likely to fight each other? B) why the hell was it okay to target a sickly child? And C) Why in hell would you disobey a direct order to leave an indigenous people alone.”
Altair, Ezio, Haythem, and Conner all flinched at the events mentioned and understood what Desmond meant. They were good questions.

Chapter Text

It was clear from the shock in his eyes that Altair ibn-La’Ahad had not expected or frankly known that Tazim Al-Sayf existed. And yet here he was. Tazim was oddly six foot tall, taller than average for a Syrian man born in the early 13th century. The joy and surprise in the old mentor’s eyes could not be plainer to see. He thought that he had lost his two closest friends within days of one another without them ever having a family of their own. They had kept Tazim a secret and only Altair was left who knew why. Tazim’s mother was from the future. So yes, through her Tazim was also related to the old mentor. He reached out to touch the young man. To truly see him better.
From Jasmine Al-Sayf nee Al-Naar, Tazim inherited his height, his mixed heritage skin, and a certain roguish charm that Jasmine had been known for. He was also fluent in many different languages which his mother had taught him. He was well built and sturdy, sure on his feet, and brilliant. How could he tell the boy that his mother had died to protect him from Abbas? How could he tell him that she loved the brotherhood almost more than life itself? Tazim gave Altair a charming smile, that so mimicked Jasmine that it hurt too much. How could he tell him that he was a miracle paradox? That his mother was eight hundred years into the future and descended from him, Altair? He could not, he would not. It was not his place.
From Malik though, oh poor, brilliant, wise Malik, Tazim got his dark hair and dark eyes, his ability to perceive and anticipate, and he did have a parchment for having biting remarks for his fellow assassins. Nothing out of malice simply he, like his father did not suffer those who made mistakes or were too arrogant. There was a fondness, and a loyalty in his eyes that was likely instilled by both parents. Yet how could he tell him that all the pain his father suffered was his fault? How could he tell him that Malik died because of his inaction in dealing with Abbas properly? How could this boy forgive him for all these transgressions, when he himself could not forgive himself for having lost the four closest and dearest people in the span of days?
Sef, Malik, Maria, and Jasmine were all dead directly or indirectly killed by Abbas and he could do little if nothing to stop it. Maybe he was going mad with his old age, or maybe this was a punishment that he still lived so long. He could not know truly. Yet before him was life, and where there is life there is hope. He held Tazim and all he could do was say.
“If you are to help me, then do so by only knocking out Abbas’ men not killing them. They are merely blind to his betrayal of the creed. Just because he has broken it doesn’t mean we should as well.”
“It's funny Dad said that to you all those years ago.”
“He did.”
Altair said with a chuckle of fondness. Despite his years the reclamation of Masyaf from Abbas was a blur and all Altair truly remembered was finally ending Abbas before things settled down again. Darim returned and they held out for a few more years before the Mongols attacked. Tazim in that time took his father’s place at Altair’s side and aided the aged mentor before he was sent away. Tazim said he always felt a pull toward Italy as it was and would go ahead with the Polo Brothers to establish a brotherhood in Italy. Darim returned to Egypt and took over what was left of Almut’s hidden ones. Other branches established draw their roots to Levant and Altair. Though they say in Masyaf, in the dead of the coldest winter if you watch the old fortress with the Assassin’s Vision you can see the ghosts of the great old Levant on the battlements in the robes of the highest rank they achieved in life.
They say you can see a small family gathered close facing Jerusalem. Two brothers stand side by side though the older one has lost an arm and stands proudly in his Dai Robes. In his embrace close to his side stands his wife, taller than him by not too much wearing her master assassin robes. Both watch their son stand before them with pride on their faces at what he accomplished in his life as an assassin. The Al-Sayf family will always stand as vanguards of Masyaf, their familial home for generations. Even though no assassin made their home there in years…they stood watching and welcomed those who bore the assassin’s logo. They would do what they could to ensure the stain of Templar never touched Masyaf again. Though fate was fickle.
Then again, there is no greater glory than fighting to find the truth. And who do you think it was who guided Ezio Auditore when he came to Masyaf just three hundred years later to seek out Altair ibn-La’Ahad’s library? It was indeed truly the Al-Sayf family that worked to protect the last Auditore Male. How could Tazim not when he himself had taught Domenico Auditore after Dante Alighieri’s death? He had been the one who had helped him establish himself as a nobleman while he himself Tazim went on to eventually sire the greatest mind in the 15th century. In a way, Domenico had been the son Tazim didn’t have at the time, and thus the Auditore were family to the AL-Sayf. Ezio would be protected by them and when he later returned with Sofia, they could be plainly seen by both.
“Ah, the rumors are true. Ghosts do haunt here.”
Sofia had said before explaining the old story to Ezio who smiled fondly. The ghosts of the old Levent Assassins were a welcome comfort. Especially when he saw Jasmine and Malik smile at him as if he were their son, it strangely filled Ezio’s old cold heart with pride to have their approval.

Chapter Text

Malik was holding one-year-old Darim ibn-La’Ahad as Altair was showing some novices how sword strikes were done properly and how to avoid them and the like. He would have liked to show these Novices himself but Maria was out along with Jasmine so naturally watching toddler Darim fell to the Dai. The novices wouldn’t get to spar with the king of swords, and it was best. Malik was also known as the Devil of Masyaf as he was a terror when caught in close-quarters combat. Though these days as the Dai reflected was less and less. He worked alongside Altair and there was also the secret that he was keeping, Jasmine his wife was pregnant with their firstborn. She was six months pregnant, but she was one of those women lucky enough to not show she was pregnant. She had mentioned that she was told her mother never showed either so, genetics he supposed. Being in the time they were, pregnancy was risky, but even then, Jasmine was an assassin. She must have convinced Altair to let her take some time away from the field because she was home now often. Another reason they were keeping the pregnancy a secret was…Jasmine was from the future. Their child would be strangely related to Darim and not something they wanted out in the open.
Jasmine had returned home and smiled fondly at how much like a father Malik looked while holding Darim, Malik was more than ready to be a father despite his own worries about his own upbringing. Jasmine melted at the sight of an assassin onesie. It was just adorable, and she was going to tell her brothers if she ever got to see them again. The thought made her frown, she missed Armand, Westen, and Desmond. Armand was that wise older brother she could always count on. Westen was on his way to being a scholar. Desmond…oh poor Desmond had so much on his young shoulders it hurt her to watch. Maria was the only other one besides Malik who knew her full and true backstory. She didn’t even tell Altair. Maria smiled at Jasmine since she helped her get the necessities to care for a baby. Experience with Darim taught her much. Living among the assassins now for three years now and she came to learn how to read them, Jasmine was no exception despite how much liked Altair she was. She said.

“Why don’t you tell Altair the truth? He is very open-minded.”
“I don’t know how he would react to the truth Maria. You thought I was crazy until Malik stepped in.”
“And that was not fair of me.”
“But- “
“No buts Jasmine tell him.”

She bit her tongue and swallowed her pride; Maria was right, and this was her several times great grandma telling her what to do. Look Dad I am an assassin getting advice from a former Templar take that. It had to be now or never that she told Altair the truth, though she feared he may think her mad or making a joke. Thanks for the trauma dad, can’t feel safe trusting the mentor with the truth. She found he was done instructing the Novices and she noticed that Malik and Maria seemed to pick up on what she was about to do because Maria suggested the four of them head inside, Darim sort of helped by getting crabby since it was nap time, toddlers, Jasmine had something she needed to tell Altair and it would be best done in private, thanks that really didn’t help much. Malik had already handed Darim to his mother and walked beside Jasmine asking in a hushed tone, concern for her in the tone as well.

“You really are going to tell him huh?”
“Yes, and I am terrified to do so.”
“Habibi, I am at your side. Now and always. Even against the Mentor if necessary.”
“Careful how you speak Malik. That could be seen as treason.”
“My love Altair knows I would stand by you through hell and back.

Once they arrived at their shared quarters Jasmine sighed breathing in and out before she began to speak.
Altair looked horrified when he learned oh not that Jasmine was from the future, no that she had been in a brotherhood like theirs and had witnessed several of the same horrors twice now. He restrained himself from saying so but deep in his heart he longed to murder this William Miles himself for harming not just a student of his, but his best friend’s wife. He gave a calming breath before he spoke on the matter and carefully said.

“I believe you, Jasmine. We have this…”

Pointing to the Apple as he said that before he continued as Malik put it away.

“I am not thrilled you kept this from me until now, however, I understand the reasons behind it and honestly would have done much the same in your shoes. Thank you for being honest with me. I will do what I can moving forward to ease your fear of coming to me for advice or help. Also, I believe congratulations are in order.”
“Huh, how?”
“If were anyone else, I would have simply guessed you wanted to be closer to home. But Malik has been a bit protective of you more than usual lately, leading me to suspect you are pregnant. That bit though I still can not understand why you would withhold.”

Jasmine and Malik looked at each other before fond smiles crossed their faces and with that revealed the foursome spoke for hours at end, like the good friends they truly were, mother and mother-to-be bonding and best friends becoming closer as they would both soon share the title of Father. Malik admitted his fears and it was Altair’s turn at wisdom and mused.
“I found that those who fear messing up their kid's lives don’t because they keep themselves in check. And you are not going to ever mess them up in some way. I don’t have a father figure to look up to and look back on, and I hope I am doing okay with Darim.”

Chapter Text

Desmond staggered backwards his right arm in terrible pain. He had just saved the world, but he hadn’t been alone. Just as he was about to sacrifice himself, he felt two others lay their hands on top of his to assist him in saving the world but keep Juno locked away. While they themselves didn’t have as high of ISU genetics their selflessness was too much for the ISU to try to eat through to free herself. And she was left screaming as Desmond was guided away, protected by two individuals. He felt one protectively hold him close as they walked, even picking him up when he lost all strength to keep going. He was leery because he saw the Templar Cross, but they had helped him, so he was not going to argue. Because they had chosen to save him. Desmond was so lost in the black coma that he did not know that he was taken to safety among Templars of all people. He thought he would not mind so much for strange reasons even for himself. Desmond started to relax and heal as he lay in the arms of one of his saviors, very glad of the warmth and protection.
Haythem Kenway and Shay Partick Cormac had both been out of the ten resurrected Templars called to approach the old precursor sight that Haythem had been aware of in his time. Neither could understand why though Haythem now looking at the young assassin who had been alone, he understood why now. Even he, Haythem Kenway, grand master of the American Rite would never leave a comrade behind. Hell, he had gone back for his own son a time or two when they worked together. This assassin, looked like himself, Connor, and Edward all in one person. Haythem guessed it was because they were related distantly. There were features of the more Italian rite brothers he had known that he could see and while they didn’t have any Arabic rite brothers Robert’s descriptions of the Eagle of Masyaf, could be seen quite strongly in this young assassin. Haythem sighed adjusting the young man again as they continued their escape, avoiding the other escaping Assassins, reminding Shay to not engage, and avoiding the modern Templars, damn it Shay don’t engage. For his part though Shay did only do so to protect the assassin they were rescuing. There was no intent to harm him nor to convert him to their ways.
Arriving back at their headquarters, an abandoned yet still well-kept assassin stronghold, they brought the assassin to see Father Maffei. Aside from being a monk during the 15th century, and tutor of the Medici children, the monk was also skilled in the healing arts. He tended to the assassin’s wounds and let the young man rest. They along with the remaining seven gathered at a long dining table. There was an eleventh seat left open at the head of the table. When the ten spots were filled Haythem spoke

“May the father of understanding guide us.”
“May the father of understanding guide us all.”

The other nine responded. Robert De’Sable spoke up and asked.

“What did you find in the grand temple Master Kenway?”
“The Grand Temple is the largest of the ISU Temples. It housed a device meant to shield the earth from a massive solar flare.”
“Explains why cell phones aren’t working right now.”

Daniel Cross said, and Haythem nodded. He said.

“An assassin was alone in the final chamber, activating the shield. The one we brought in. I would scarcely dare to call him a man, he is just a boy. A brave one at that.”

The only female in the room furrowed her brow before she asked.

“Six foot tall, roughly one hundred and seventy pounds, brown hair and brown eyes?”
“Yes, why?”
“That-that is Desmond Miles.”

She spoke. Daniel’s face blanched white. The greats in the room understood why Daniel went white. Robert admitted that Altair’s name alone still strikes fear and respect. Others like Rodrigo and Cesare would almost certainly shit themselves at the mere mention of Ezio’s name. A Viking man, slightly taller than Robert leaned back in his chair and asked.

“So, Ms. Stillman why is this Desmond so special?”
“For one thing he was the only one capable of activating the Grand Temple to save us all. Secondly, he has descended from many great assassin families all of you aside from you Kjotve have dealt with. He is descended from you by the way Haythem.”
“I figured as much. Looks like me.”

Haythem said. Kjotve nodded. Daniel then asked.

“So, what are we going to do with him? He’s deadly having taken out both me and Ms. Stillman.”
“If you want to get technical Daniel, indirectly, once again, everyone but Kjotve and Shay have met their end to his blade, bleeding effect aside.”

Everyone flinched. Lucy and Daniel had gotten them up to speed on the modern day as well as animus and how Abstergo used to find Pieces of Eden and break several assassins in the process. At least fifteen subjects were confirmed dead. The two left unaccounted for Daniel, aka subject four, and Desmond, aka subject seventeen, were now in their base, and both could be considered mentally unstable. Haythem came back around to Daniel’s question and spoke.

“It is quite clear that Desmond has suffered at the hands of both sides, the assassins have been the biggest offenders. I have no intention of actively flipping him to our side. However, I would not be opposed to trying something new should he suggest it. However, for now, he needs friends and allies. Those willing to support and protect him. I am willing to be that. I believe Shay feels the same.”

Lucy spoke up.

“He may not trust me, but I will still support him.”
“I second that.”

Daniel had said. Soon everyone agreed. When Desmond woke up, finding the ten-standing watch over him was surprising but oddly comforting to know that he was no longer alone in this world. It would take time, but they would become his trusted family.

Chapter Text

Elijah Miles sighed as he took out the Koh-i-Noor, a Piece of Eden in the form of a diamond that holds such an immense amount of power that it can bind all the other Pieces' fates. It was rumored that only God or women could control its power. The artifact is also capable of locating other Pieces of Eden. He could wield it safely since he was a sage, the sage of Aita. Elijah held it and explained how he came to possess it along with his backstory. The two assassins before him smiled softly at him and the male after looking at his wife who nodded said.

“Kid, I am so sorry you went through that. If you want you could stay with Rebecca and I. We sought you out cause the Templars figured out who your dad was, and we wanted to protect you because he would have wanted that. We were his friends after all.”

Elijah looked up. Did they know his dad? Aita whispered in his head.

‘Knew him, ha, they worked right alongside him. Until the end.’
‘I guess it would be better than being alone.’

Elijah looked at them both and nodded. And that is how Shaun and Rebecca Hasting adopted Elijah Miles. It wasn’t easy raising a sixteen-year-old sage with the lineage of the three big assassin families in his bloodline. Yet it was also rewarding. Elijah would snark as Desmond would, and Shaun would catch himself about to call him Desmond before sighing and remembering that no, Desmond was dead, but Elijah was right here. Rebecca did her best to be a mother, finding that she was pretty good at it. The two removed themselves from William’s brotherhood since the man trusted another Sage, Basim. Elijah stayed out of it for the most part but when he heard his adoptive parents arguing with Mentor Miles over trusting Basim, Elijah showed up and allowed Aita to speak. Aita ripped hard into Mentor Miles on his behavior not only as the assassin mentor but as a father. While Aita never truly cared for humanity he did care for his current host and those around him.
William Miles was shocked that he was getting a verbal lashing from an ISU sage, that said ISU sage was a kid made it worse. William was about to strike when strangely from nowhere he was grabbed by…Desmond with Layla at his side. Both alive, both pissed as hell. Desmond held his father’s outstretched arm and said in a dangerous voice.

“Do not lay your hands on my son ever! I refuse to allow you to touch him.”
“Desmond? How? Son?”
“Do. Not. Call. Me. Son! You never cared about me! You made me the second coming of Altair! And you lied to my face more than once. I was never going to see Mom again, was I? What else did you lie about huh? I was nothing but a tool! No more.”
Desmond’s eyes were brown but sparking with life. As if he had spent the last seven to eight years still training to be the ultimate assassin. Though they didn’t know half of it. No, this Desmond had been reborn as Malik Al-Sayf, so he had a more Syrian look to him and was missing part of his left arm, but that didn’t stop him from still being a badass. William laughed and dared to say.

“This again Desmond? I told you before that if I had been soft with you, you would not have been able to make that hard choice.”
“Enough. I challenge you to Mashindano for the right to lead the brotherhood. The loser is exiled.”

Desmond said dangerously. It was an old Levent rite, and he was invoking it. William glared and spoke.

“Fine. I think I’ll enjoy teaching you, your place. And you will know your place, Desmond.”

They parted ways for the moment and Shaun looked at him in shock and awe. He could not believe that he was seeing Desmond. It looked and sounded like him, but yet the actions were those of someone very experienced. Rebecca was just as confused as Shaun, yet she knew in her heart that the man standing before her was Desmond Miles. Elijah just hugged his dad, who hugged him back. Layla had been content to hang back and watch it all unfold but Shaun and Rebecca called her over and embraced her. She was part of their little-found family.
The next day William returned to partake in Mashindano. He thought he was prepared. He had years of experience as an assassin, and he was well-trained. He was no master assassin sure, but he was confident in his abilities. He was cocky and that would be his undoing. Desmond for his part had meditated the night before reflecting on his past fights with William and analyzing his moves. He was using his own advice of

“You cannot know anything, only suspect. You must expect to be wrong, to have overlooked something. Anticipate.”

It worked many times and would not fail the King of Swords this time. Desmond/Malik was ready. When the fight came it was decidedly one-sided. Desmond outpaced William. He was using his own style, much to William’s annoyance because he had thought Desmond would allow the bleeds to overtake him and use his ancestors’ skills. Sure, he had them in there, but they were so scarce having been raised in Levent, having grown up as Malik Al-Sayf. It wasn’t long until William had been knocked onto the ground, a sword to his throat before Desmond said.

“In case you were wondering, father, I was reborn. I have lived as Malik Al-Sayf. Altair’s right hand. That is why you lost. I trained under some of the best our brotherhood ever produced. I have won.”
“This isn’t over Desmond!”
“Sorry. But I do not answer to that name anymore. I am Malik Al-Sayf. Global Mentor of the Assassin Brotherhood. And as per the terms of the Mashindano and as my first act as a mentor, I herby strip you of all ranks and honors, and exile you. You have till sunset to vacate your place as an assassin, or I will send others to hunt you down.”

Chapter Text

It was a quiet moment shared between the newly restored Master assassin and the Dai. They spent some quiet time after reconciling to relax before Altair headed out to confront Robert De’Sable, honestly for the five-foot-nine assassin De’Sable was a giant at six foot five. Neither spoke of the past, there was too much pain in the past Solomon’s temple put behind them, and neither spoke of the future, for it was fluid and always in motion, who was to say what was to come, and if they would live to see tomorrow. They were just content to just be, sitting close as they had once been in childhood. Malik actually sat on Altair’s lap, held close by him, his warmth a comfort. How long had it been since they shared in this simple embrace of brotherhood and friendship? Too long to count some would say. How long had it been since they were on civil speaking terms? Malik didn't know but it didn't matter really. What mattered was that he was here in relative safety and peace of his friend and brother’s embrace.
From one quiet moment, there was just peace there was just them no secret war, no assassinations, no Templars, just them and just peace, and they were ok with that. Ok to be just people and not assassins. For his part, Malik was grateful to aid others like Altaïr though he did wish he could still be out there. Oh, how I missed the thrill of the chase, running over the rooftops, watching, listening, striking from the shadows, being that avenging Angel in the shadows, oh how he missed that. But fate had different plans in store for him that meant he was to be Dai, a title he did not take lightly, and did his best to be the best he could be. He knew he’d likely be forgotten next to assassins like Altair, but he was proud to play his part.
For his part Altaïr had grown and changed from foolish and arrogant to humble, starting to show wisdom. He knew it no longer mattered what happened, they were united, one brotherhood till the end. Altaïr’s heart raced as he thought about how he was going to take out Robert De’Sable, but even he knew that he could do it. He was going to things as he should have always done. He no longer saw himself above their creed, he saw his place as the same as anyone else and it took a lot to get there. Yet here he was ready as he would ever be to prove he was an assassin and a changed man. The lives of the nine had to be worth something in the end, right?
The rest of the year flew past for the two as many things changed after that quiet day, as many things came to light. Altaïr was now the mentor of the brotherhood since Rashid had been a traitor and a Templar in disguise, something that had troubled many. No one seemed to miss the old man, which told you all you needed to know about Rashid. Save for those like Abbas, too gone to the brainwashing to see things any other way. Yet he kept a low profile through the years, secretly planning his revenge on Altair and those closest to him the snake. Altaïr got married to De’Sable’s woman, they had two kids, and the brotherhood was the strongest it had been in years, Malik was proud of all they had worked for thinking foolishly that it wouldn’t end.
Then it all changed when Sef was murdered, and Malik was imprisoned, Abbas was good. It only went south from there, as Abbas had Malik killed and indirectly took Maria Threope out as well, leaving Altair alone with Darim his oldest son. Though Malik and Kadar got the chance to live again as brothers during the 15th century Malik took the mentor’s mantle and rebuilt the brotherhood there. After being shown kindness by Giovanni Auditore saved his family from the Templars cared for them and taught his children to be assassins. Federico was already close to being fully fledged so that was easy. Malik took Ezio as his student training him to Master assassin. He eventually gave the mantle to Ezio Auditore, as he had proven worthy of it. Things would be alright moving forward. Malik and Kadar escorted Ezio to Syria and Constantinople when he went, and they paid respects to where Sef had died as well as Malik paying respects to Altair in his own quiet way.
No one expected to wake up in the modern day, to save the savior of humanity, yet here they were. Desmond Miles had been alone before Malik, Kadar, Altaïr, Ezio, Federico, and Claudia arrived at his side and with their combined efforts prevented Juno’s escape, her yelling the whole time that they were cheating, that they had their time, their lives. No one paid her any attention. Desmond was held by Ezio, given he had passed out, as they escaped into the strange modern day, and it was strange indeed, things only once seen in the Apple of Eden were now real. Finding shelter, which had been quick thanks to Kadar being natural at finding these things, they tended to Desmond, and his wounds, which were thankfully few and let him rest peacefully. In peace of it all Malik sat once again with Altaïr, and both found peace in the moment.
When Desmond woke, they would handle what to do given that they were six assassins out of time and Desmond was meant to die. Yet who can say when fate changes her mind, though beware, The Final Fate has the last say on the matter, and perhaps he said these seven were under his protection and gave them what they needed to survive. Who knows. Some say there was a tall handsome man watching them that day, someone who had a vested interest in them.

Chapter Text

“Kadar! Kadar! Open your eyes! Allah damn it open your eyes!”
Malik said, watching the blood spill from his younger brother’s mouth. He could not believe it. Would not believe that his baby brother was dead. No, it had to be just a bad dream, he wasn’t dead, he would soon wake up from this nightmare and it would all be over. Denial is the action of declaring something to be untrue. Denial is the stage that can initially help you survive the loss. You might think life makes no sense, has no meaning, and is too overwhelming. You start to deny the news and, in effect, go numb. Interestingly, it is denial and shock that help you cope and survive the grief event. Denial aids in pacing your feelings of grief. Instead of becoming completely overwhelmed with grief, we deny it, do not accept it, and stagger its full impact on us. Think of it as your body's natural defense mechanism, saying "Hey, there's only so much I can handle at once." Malik wanted so desperately for this to all be a bad dream.
Malik had to only touch his brother’s body to realize that once the denial and shock start to fade, the healing process begins. At this point, those feelings that you were once suppressing are coming to the surface. And boy did it surface. His baby brother was cold and stiff, and his chest was still. There was no beat of the heart through the carotid artery. Malik’s world shattered, he was quiet as he let it all sink in, let everything play through his mind of what happened in the last hour. Slowly a new stage manifest. Anger. Once you start to live in "actual" reality again, anger might start to set in. This is a common stage to think "Why me?" and "Life's not fair!" You might blame others for the cause of your grief and may redirect your anger to close friends and family. You find it incomprehensible how something like this could happen to you. Your life has shattered and there's nothing solid to hold onto. Think of anger as a strength to bind you to reality. You might feel deserted or abandoned during a grief event. That no one is there. You are alone in this world. The direction of anger toward something or somebody is what might bridge you back to reality and connect you to people again. It is a "thing." It's something to grasp onto, a natural step in healing.
Of course, Malik felt Anger, and towards Altair ibn-La’Ahad. You may wonder why there are past events colored with modern science, well Malik is reflecting to see where he may have gone wrong. Anger though leads to a darker stage of grief. Bargaining. In a way, this stage is false hope. You might falsely make yourself believe that you can avoid grief through this type of negotiation. If you change this, I'll change that. You are so desperate to get your life back to how it was before the grief event, you are willing to make a major life change in an attempt toward normality. Malik thought more than once afterward that if he killed Altair, he would feel better. Or even darker if he did that Kadar would come back. He had suffered, and when he realized nothing, he could do to ease his grief the quick way, or to bring his brother back, something broke in him.
Depression. a state of being depressed. Depression is commonly associated with grief. It can be a reaction to the emptiness we feel when we are living in reality and realize the person or situation is gone or over. In this stage, you might withdraw from life, feel numb, live in a fog, and not want to get out of bed. The world might seem too much and too overwhelming for you to face. You might not want to be around others or feel like talking, and you might feel hopeless. Altair was a reminder of it and his bitterness towards him was depression manifesting as angry tirades and barbs. Malik was not well, and being away from support did not seem to be helping but later reflection made him realize that he had been healing slowly.
The last stage came when Altair said.
“Malik. Before I go, there's something I should say.”
“Be out with it.”
“I've been a fool.”
“Normally I'd make no argument, but what is this? What are you talking about?”
“All this time, I never told you I was sorry. Too damn proud... You lost your arm because of me, lost Kadar. You had every right to be angry.”
Malik paused. Altair did not actually say I am sorry, but it was close enough. The man had grown over his hunt, and this was the best he was going to get.
“I do not accept your apology.”
“I understand.”
“No. You don't. I do not accept your apology because you are not the same man who went with me into Solomon's Temple. And so, you have nothing to apologize for.”
“Malik...”
“Perhaps if I had not been so envious of you, I... would not have been so careless myself. I'm just as much to blame.”
“Don't say such things.”
“We are one. As we share the glory of our victories, so too should we share the pain of our defeat. In this way we grow closer, we grow stronger.”
“Thank you, brother.”
“Rest if you need to, Altair, that you might be ready for what lies ahead...”
Malik had said. Acceptance. Not in the sense that "it's OK my brother died" but rather, "My brother died, but I'm going to be OK." In this stage, your emotions may begin to stabilize. You re-enter reality. It is definitely a time of adjustment and readjustment. There are good days, there are bad days, and then there are good days again. In this stage, it does not mean you'll never have another bad day, where you are uncontrollably sad. But the good days tend to outnumber the bad days. In this stage, you may lift from your fog, start to engage with friends again, and might even make new relationships as time goes on. You understand your loved one can never be replaced, but you move, grow, and evolve into your new reality. Malik had moved on Kadar seemed to whisper in his ear.
“Safety and peace upon you brother.”
“Upon you as well Kadar.”
Malik said with a sad, pained, yet fond smile. He would be okay.

Chapter Text

Leonardo Da’Vinci smiled as he felt his friend and lover, Ezio Auditore hug him from behind. They had known each other a while now and Leonardo always worried when Ezio left on his missions for the brotherhood. Of course, he had known what he was getting into. He’d known, he just didn’t know how to tell Ezio. He didn’t know how to tell Ezio that he had already lived his life once and that he had come from the future. He did not know how to tell him that he was an assassin as well. Yes, gentle Leonardo was an assassin. It came from that previous, yet-to-be life he already had. It is why he had been called a genius, and why his inventions seemed strange. He was from the future, roughly six hundred years into the future.
Leonardo Da’Vinci, was originally Desmond Miles the savior of humanity. Desmond gave his life to save humanity from the solar flare, but in the end, he had regrets and a soft spot for Italy and Ezio. That is why an unknown voice had given him this chance to be reborn as Leonardo and live a full life. There was still some neglect. His father didn’t want him due to being a bastard and being a high-ranking official, scandal. His mother wasn’t much better. The only reason his father interacted with him was because he was so damn talented. That was the only reason he was apprenticed, and why he was here now. Just to get him out of the way. But he didn’t let that bitterness get to him, he studied, he created and before long he was titled a Master and soon teaching his own students.
Meeting Giovanni Auditore was an accident really, he saw him attacked in broad daylight one day and he came to his aid. He, timid Leo whom Ezio rescued from guards, bandits, and the Borgia came to Giovanni’s aid. His workshop wasn’t far, and he helped the young man there. He tended to Giovanni’s wounds, making notes along the way as you do be the genius you are, and allowed him to remain there until his wounds were past a point for concern. Perhaps some of the lessons from Desmond’s mother were still left over but Leonardo had made sure Giovanni could go home one piece. That one act of kindness kindled a friendship, and eventually, Leonardo was inducted into the Brotherhood. A peace settled over the second soul in him, like he finally knew his place.
Giovanni eventually told him how he had met this woman, who was for a noblewoman really down to earth, and loved the common and working-class people as they were the real citizens in her eyes. Putting in the honest day’s work unlike the stuffy nobles who did nothing, had tons of servants, and acted above the law. Leonardo had told him to be himself and woo her. He may not be Firenze nobility, but he was noble in the sense of the Arthurian Legends of old. They shared a laugh and Giovanni took his advice, to great success. Soon Leonardo was meeting Lady Maria de' Mozzi a spirited and brave woman. Leonardo was even there when they were married. In spite of his young age. It was weird but it worked to their advantage.
Leonardo was drawn from his thoughts by Ezio who had noticed him deep in thought. There was a soft sigh from the inventor who simply smiled at Ezio and began to tell his friend everything from how he knew his parents and him and his siblings to how in truth he had already lived and how he regretted not being able to save more than just Federico that day by keeping him at the workshop to help because he had offended him with an insult. Federico did insult Leonardo, with Leo present, and Maria had given the youth an earful before sending him to do an honest day’s work for the man. Leo had him clean, organize the shop, and even fetch orders for clients. The dirt and grim provided cover when the guards came looking. Leonardo passed him off as a new assistant from Syria, Kadar, who only spoke Arabic and needed a home.
When Ezio came by a few days later with the codex page and Giovanni’s broken hidden blade, he repaired it. Federico was still acting under disguise, but he was revealed after Ezio left that he was alive. Leo admitted to feeling guilty for not being able to save Petruccio as well. But as he would hear from the eldest two children, Leo did more than was even expected of him. Ezio, now knowing that Leonardo had saved his brother by disguising him as an assistant, was beyond clever. He did not know how he could ever repay him because the day Federico returned was the Day Maria spoke again, which according to Desmond’s memories was a lot sooner than before. He was here to make changes after all.
Little more needed to be said now as the two embraced each other. Federico had once asked who Kadar was, and Leonardo explained that Kadar was the name of a 12th-century Levent assassin who died at sixteen years of age on a mission he was too under-skilled for. His mentor sent him to his death that day, and he thought of it to give him a second chance if you will. He explained that Kadar had an older brother who was his world. Losing Kadar almost destroyed him. Not wanting that to happen again, he acted as he had to ensure Ezio wouldn’t feel that pain as much. Yes, it still hurt that Petruccio died but at least he was with his padre, safe. Leonardo would not admit to having dreams where he would speak to Givonni and be told how grateful he was that two of his sons lived.
Leonardo/Desmond would continue to live and fight for what was right in the 15th century. Becoming a well-known historical figure in his own right and enjoying the time spent with Ezio and his family. He would as before dying with Ezio near, having lived a full and happy life with no regrets this time and having left the clues for his future/past self to find. None would be greater than Leonardo Da’Vinci who at his request, would only be remembered for his civil accomplishments and not that of the Brotherhood.

Chapter Text

Something about Clay Kaczmarek seemed off. Even to Mario Auditore whose only experience with youth was taking care of his nephew Ezio and niece Claudia. The smile seemed forced, and not a genuine happy smile that should have been on the twenty-seven-year-old assassin’s face. He wasn’t ok and Mario decided to do what he could to help him. So, taking a leap of faith, Mario adopted Clay and set to work working with Clay through the trauma he had. And it was a lot. Clay’s father never thought of him as anything but a failure and didn’t care that the boy had other interests and skills. Kaczmarek’s were engineers through and through. There was no room for anything else. Not even something so noble as being an Assassin. Though his father never knew he didn’t care to know where he had come from. Clay was one of those lucky few to have been born to the Auditore bloodline. The other, as Clay mentioned, was Desmond Miles. Unlike Clay though, Desmond could trace back to Ezio through his daughter. Clay was off some unknown bastard that was likely conceived shortly before Ezio became a fully-fledged assassin. Mario had one likely suspect as to who could have been the mother.
That being said, this experience was eye-opening for both men. Mario now fully understood why his brother was so devoted to his family. Becoming a father changes you in ways you don’t understand until you become one. Mario thought he was ready to do anything for his brother, sister-in-law, and their kids and grandkids, but it took on a whole new meaning when Clay came into his life. He realized there was now nothing he would not do to ensure Clay was safe and loved. He also knew that he had taken on a lot. They were living in Monteriggioni when Giovanni and his family came to live given there was nothing left for them in Firenze after the years. Giovanni was surprised, to say the least when he saw Clay with Mario and the younger Auditore asked of his brother.
“Who is this young man?”
“If you would believe it, my son. Through adoption but still.”
“Mario, family is family regardless of how they come into your lives. Congratulations brother. I am happy for you.”
“Thanks, but I could use your advice.”
Giovanni was floored but followed Mario to his office and they sat down. Mario then explained everything he was feeling. From his doubts about being a good father to the realization that there was nothing he wouldn’t do for Clay, to whether or not he was doing all he could.
Giovanni smiled, though it was Ezio who had followed them, and let out a chuckle before he explained himself.
“Le mie scuse zio, padre. (My apologies uncle, father.) I overheard outside that you needed advice Zio. What I have come to learn in the short amount of time I got to be a father was, first of all, you are going to make mistakes. It is just how things are. We just learn to pick ourselves up and dust ourselves off. Secondly, when you start to doubt, that is good because you are checking to ensure that you are doing things right. Trust me, I had plenty of doubts and felt like I had big shoes to fill after this great example of a father I had. Lastly, you are going to mess up. You will have regrets; it is called being human. But at the end of the day, if you can hear your kid say, “Yeah my dad wasn’t perfect, but he is much better than what I had before and I want to strive to be like him” then you have done your job well.”
Giovanni smiled at his middle son’s maturity and wisdom. He nodded. There really was not more he could add beyond saying.
“I know you have never been interested in a partner, but a child needs a second role model to counteract the first. Maria and I raised our children with love, respect, and discipline. Yes, it did seem we spoiled them too much, Claudia is the egregious example.”
“Hey!”
Claudia had also been listening before chuckling and adding.
“No Padre is right, I was badly spoiled growing up, it is a wonder you put up with me Zio. Grazie.”
Mario now felt overwhelmed at the support as his family came in to show that support. Even Clay was supportive in saying.
“Look, Dad, you’re much much better than my biological father ever was. You take time to get to know me, understand how I am feeling, support my wishes to continue my education in data security, and even support me being an assassin. From my own experience and that of a close friend, I know that what we have is far healthier than what I or he ever had before.”
Mario smiled. Ezio was right. Clay affirmed that he was doing great. And he saw it in the genuine smile he now had on his face.
It would be a few weeks before Clay would get a strange feeling that he had to be somewhere. New York of all places. It was December 21st after all. Then it clicked for him, and he was shaking in cold terror. He dashed from his room to the office where Mario was with Ezio talking in general about brotherhood business. Clay looked paler than he did when Mario first found him, and he asked.
“Figlio, cosa c'è che non va, sembra più pallido della morte stessa? (Son what is wrong, look paler than death itself?)”
“Mi dispiace, padre, cugino. Ma...Desmond è nei guai. (I am sorry father, cousin. But...Desmond is in trouble.)”
“Desmond? come fai a sapere quel nome Clay? (Desmond? how do you know that name Clay?)”
Ezio asked and Clay sighed and spoke.
“Desmond is also your descendant Ezio. Just as I am. Though he can follow back to you through Flaiva.”
“Mio Dio. allora non abbiamo tempo da perdere. Ezio, Clay, stiamo andando adesso. (My god. then we have no time to lose. Ezio, Clay we are going now.)”
That was all Mario needed to say to get the boys in gear to rescue Desmond before anything worse happened to him.

Chapter Text

Ezio Auditore side-eyed the first four of his recruits. The siblings Jasmine and Desmond were typically the ones who were the calmest, then there was their cousin Clay who was known to cause trouble with the other recruits. Kadar though was the one always running headfirst into danger. One would think that with these four having previous assassin training they would not be such a challenge for Ezio, yet they were taxing his patience. Jasmine Maria Miles had the ability to quickly master language. She was also the one who was the most poised and collected of the group. Desmond was a bit unsure of himself, always quick to pass credit to others when he had done most of the work. Clay seemed to want to prove himself at every turn and was aggressive to others. Kadar was similar but always sought to take out templar targets. Ezio swore they were going to give him grey hair early if they kept it up. That is to say, that was the downside to teaching assassin recruits.
Ezio had to pause and reflect. He did not have a teacher nor a safe haven to return to when he was learning to be an assassin and these four along with the others got that from him now. Jasmine was always in tune with his moods and did her best to adjust accordingly. Desmond, despite his lack of confidence, was easy to get along with when there were no lessons to be had. The kid simply enjoyed being around him. Clay may be aggressive, but that did not come from nowhere. That came from a source of pain he did not want to talk about, though Desmond seemed to know. Kadar admitted to feeling lost without his older brother guiding him through things. So, this group became a family. Clay started to treat Kadar like a younger brother. Which actually started to cause Ezio less stress. The kids working together got them through the blocks each was facing when it came to their training. Which allowed them to grow to their potential.
Pride was currently on his mind as Ezio watched these four become fully-fledged assassins. They did so together as one and Ezio knew why they had. They were a family. Two sets of siblings bonded by the creed and by a promise to stand together regardless of what may be thrown at them. Their skill and strength are what Ezio admired about them, so much that he chose them as his main four to call on when he was out in the field. The Templars stood no chance when the foursome leapt from the shadows to kill them quietly. Hell, they often cleared the way for Ezio on stealth missions ensuring spotters died quickly and quietly, as did archers and crossbowmen. Ezio knew they had saved his rear more than once. So, to see them stand with him as he stormed another Borgia Tower eased his heart.
They were with him when he went after Cesare Borgia himself, the last of Borgia and the last of the Templars who played a hand in the deaths of his family members. Ezio was seated alone at first in the dining hall of Tiber Island. Rome was free and the Assassins stood strong. Ezio was the ilmentore and there seemed to be nothing wrong in the world. He was lost in thought when he saw four shadows approach him and then sit with him quietly at first, respecting the silence yet worry etched into their young faces. He smiled and spoke.
“Saluti amici miei (greetings my friends), what troubles you today?”
Desmond rarely spoke at first but today he did so as he answered.
“We were worried about you Mentore. You seem troubled.”
“è così ovvio? (is it that obvious)?”
“Si.”
All four said. There was no one who did not express gratitude for his kindness and teachings. He took them in and taught them the ways of the assassins, raising them to be good people. He was more than a mentor to them; he was a father and uncle to them. Jasmine and Desmond’s father saw them as either failures or tools to be used. Clay’s father disowned him for having other ambitions beyond engineering. Kadar was always seen as the screw-up despite all he ever tried to do. Yet here they were proving the doubters and haters wrong, proving that they could rise above, so here they were ready to lift up the one who had lifted them up.
“Grazie, miei studenti. Vedo che le mie lezioni ti sono rimaste impresse anche adesso. (Thank you, my students. I see that my lessons have stuck with you even now.)”
Jasmine looked to the others and then said.
“Sei il benvenuto Mentore, parlo a nome di tutti noi quando dico che vogliamo ricambiare la gentilezza che ci hai dimostrato all'inizio. Sei diventato una famiglia per noi e noi, come una famiglia, ci preoccupiamo. (You are welcome, Mentor, I speak for all of us when I say that we want to return the kindness you showed us at the start. You have become family to us and we, like family, worry.)”
Ezio knew that none of them minced their words and that when they spoke, they meant every word they said. That is why he knew their words to be true and kind. He had them fall in for a group hug and he swore they were his family, bound by the creed and that would remain the case.
It indeed remained the case as the four traveled with Ezio to Constantinople and helped him in his endeavors there, even in wooing Sofia. With them around, Yusif was able to live. They went with Ezio and Sofia to Masyaf which for Kadar was a homecoming. The poor man was in tears at the sight of his birthplace. They returned to Italy afterward, protecting Claudia, until they heard word of their Mentor’s passing. They were the ones who laid Ezio to rest and saw him buried.

Chapter Text

At the center of the five assassins stood Ezio Auditore da Firenze. Ezio Auditore da Firenze was a Florentine nobleman during the Renaissance, and, unbeknownst to most historians and philosophers, a Master Assassin and the Mentor of the Italian Brotherhood of Assassins, a title which he held from 1503 to 1513. He is also an ancestor of William and Desmond Miles, as well as Clay Kaczmarek. A member of the House of Auditore, Ezio remained unaware of his Assassin heritage until the age of 17 when he witnessed the hanging of his father Giovanni, and two brothers, Federico and Petruccio. Forced to flee his birthplace with his remaining family members—his mother Maria and sister Claudia—Ezio took refuge with his uncle Mario in the Tuscan town of Monteriggioni, at the Villa Auditore. After learning of his heritage from Mario, Ezio began his Assassin training and set about on his quest for vengeance against the Italian Templars and their Grand Master, the Spaniard Rodrigo Borgia, who had ordered the execution of his kin. He was now tempered but he still had a mission to fulfill.
To his right stood the older of the two siblings Jasmine Maria Miles. Jasmine and her brother Desmond Miles were actually from the future, flung through time thanks to some lingering regrets on Desmond’s mind, whether his own or the shadows of their ancestors, she would never know. She stood ready and willing at her ancestor and mentor’s side ready to fight and die for him and the cause of protecting the free will of humanity from those such as the templars. She was much like her mentor’s sister Claudia in that it scared him at times. Not that it truly mattered at the moment. She was a strong woman and proved herself. Someone had to keep him in line when Claudia wasn’t watching her brother though she was the younger one.
To Ezio’s far right was Kadar. Kadar Al-Sayf was a member of the Levantine Brotherhood of Assassins during the 12th century, the younger brother of Malik Al-Sayf, and the uncle of Malik's son Tazim Al-Sayf. While not ranked highly above a novice of the Order, he was among the Assassins sent to recover the Templar treasure in 1191 at Solomon's Temple. Unfortunately, due to a conflict that arose there, Kadar lost his life. Now here he stood, able to live again. Surprised that someone cared enough to pull him from death still racked his brain. Regardless Kadar was happy to serve the brotherhood once more, even if he didn’t have his older brother Malik at his side. Though Desmond spoke of him and spoke highly of him, he felt at peace.
To Ezio’s left was Ezio’s other descendant Clay Kaczmarek. Clay Kaczmarek, also known as Subject 16 of the Animus Project, was a member of the Assassin Order during the early 21st century. Born into a family of engineers, Clay faced psychological problems due to developmental disorders and his father's neglectful attitude. Because of this, Clay ran into the Assassins while looking for acceptance. As a member of the Assassin Brotherhood, Clay's most important mission was to infiltrate Abstergo Industries as a subject of the Animus Project, in order to obtain more information on the Animus. Labeled Subject 16, Clay was forced to relive the memories of his ancestors via his genetic memory. Clay didn’t fault Desmond for having regrets nor for the second chance at life. Just did it have to be here, in the sixteenth century? He missed technology. Yet on the bright side, he got to smash Templars with medieval weapons. So, score.
To Ezio’s far left stood the other sibling flung from the future to the past due to regrets he had. Desmond Miles was indeed a strange individual, a member of the Assassins and a descendant of numerous familial lines that had sworn allegiance to the Assassins, including individuals such as Aquilus, Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad, Ezio Auditore, Edward Kenway, and Ratonhnhaké:ton. He was also the son of the Mentor William Miles and unknowingly the father of Elijah, a young Sage. After finding the key, Desmond opened the sanctum, meant to save the world, but discovered he had been misled. It was made known that the device would save the world, but also unleash Juno, who had been imprisoned because of her hatred for humanity; using the device would also claim Desmond's life. Regardless, Desmond chose to sacrifice himself for humanity's survival, while expressing faith that his fellow Assassins would find a way to stop the new threat. Yet there were regrets that allowed him to be flung back through time and he brought others with him, his fellow recruits now standing with Ezio.
The five were here to confront Cesare Borgia and free Rome from his and his family’s stain of influence. They did whatever they sought fit to do to the people. Stamping out the free will of the people, killing innocence, and taxing the poor. They stood against the things assassins swore to protect. They were templars and the very enemy William had warned his children about. Desmond could now see clearly after everything he had been through. Cesare stepped into the open and called.
“Assassino, I see you and your pathic little squad. It is cute really. Rallying the oppressed to your side. Charming really.”
“Hey, numb nuts shut the fuck up.”
Was the taunt that left Clay’s mouth. Desmond smirked, not daring to hold Clay back this time. Jasmine also had a smirk as did Kadar. Clay said what was all on their minds. Desmond spoke.
“It is jerks like you I can’t stand. And I used to think you templars were just a story. But you are all too real.”
“You think your power, and position gives you the right to oppress. Well, it doesn’t.”
Jasmine had added. Kadar spoke up with surprising wisdom.
“You have a responsibility to be a good leader, a kind one, but you throw it all away for glory and corruption.”

Chapter Text

Ezio looked a bit put off as his two closest friends stood to either side of him. Leonardo da Vinci and Yusif Tazim. Ezio wondered how it was that he could make friends with either man. Ezio himself was a charismatic, ladies' man, and very protective of those he cared about, especially his friends and loved ones. It though took a bit after he lost his father and brothers to trust people after having trusted someone only for them to betray them. He himself was almost a victim. He dreads to think what would have happened to him if he had agreed to stay with Ulberto. What could have happened to him? To be honest there were times he did think about it and death was never what crossed his thoughts on those dark nights when strange what-if nightmares overtook him.
He would be seventeen again, and it would be that day. He would deliver the papers as he told his father he would. But there would always be something that lured him into the lion’s den that day rather than staying away as he had in reality. Some sort of pull. He would heed the pull, lulled into trusting Ulberto, only to find himself later naked and restrained to a bed. He would be gagged as he tried in vain to escape. There would always be one of the conspirators around to lay their filthy hands on him. Ulberto especially took sadistic joy in this torture.
He would always wake in cold sweat never understanding the hidden meaning behind the dream. He was indeed into men, but also more serious bedroom habits that were harmful if not handled with care, and somehow, somehow his two best friends learned of this. Leonardo was always smart; it was natural he would have found out. But the fact he told Yusif made him embarrassed. Ezio was getting up there in age, but the fact that his two closest friends wanted to help him find some joy in his life lifted him. They planned and soon secluded themselves away to a remote cabin away from prying eyes.
Ezio had been the last to arrive, and his friends warmly welcomed him, telling him that when he was ready, they would begin. Ezio nodded saying that he was, and he was taken to a room where he removed his weapons and clothing standing naked to trust his friends who got themselves just as nude. Leonardo being the more experienced in handling Ezio and his nerves eased around behind him and held him in an embrace whispering in his ear that he was doing good and right now they just wanted him to be comfortable with them all as they were when they were born, naked and vulnerable. As Ezio’s heart rate slowed, Leonardo nodded for Yusif to take over holding Ezio from behind while Leo began.
He was careful yet deliberate with his movements as he grabbed soft ropes. He took a length and began to slowly restrain his oldest friend. He took his time to ensure that Ezio was safe but also was feeling aroused by the process. Ezio did his best not to fight back given that these were his friends and that he was safe in their hands, but it still drove a primal fear into him that he was being restrained so thoroughly and completely. But he trusted Leonardo and Yusif to take care of him and his strange needs. Leonardo soon had Ezio completely at their mercy bound and shivering at their touch. Leonardo was gentle making sure Ezio was okay before he then put a blindfold over Ezio’s eyes, and they carried him over to a bed. Ezio was laid down on it and Leonardo went first in having sex with his friend. Gentle yet through. He took his time before he came and Yusif did the same.
Ezio enjoyed the care but got a bit more excited when both started to apply some pain after they had used him so thoroughly. Yeah, if it had been anyone else Ezio would have been ashamed. Yet Leonardo and Yusif never shamed him for his needs or what he was into. They helped him find a safe way to do it at least once in his life. Ezio teared up at such good and kind friends. He was thoroughly enjoying himself, even if he had to put in a bit of work himself since they were kind enough to set this entire thing up in the first place.
After they were done, Leonardo cut the ropes binding Ezio and removed the blindfold, being there to comfort Ezio and message where the ropes had dug into his skin and spoke softly as Yusif had put a blanket around them and went to get something warm for them all to drink while Leonardo was calm and gentle with Ezio, telling him he did well, but asked if he was alright. Ezio had smiled and said it had been the best he felt in a long time, and he was grateful for Leo and Yusif to have cared for him so. It was a fond memory he would cherish for years to come.
That was not something Desmond needed to see after spending hours on end in Conor’s memories. Why the hell had he bled Ezio being fucked by Yusif and Leonardo. The two never met and Ezio was not like that, at least not from what he recalled of the memories. Something was off and he did not know what. But hell, he did not need to know that Ezio was into BDSM. Though he thought back on the last bits of the memory and realized Leonardo practiced aftercare. Hell Yusif did too in placing the blanket over the two and then bringing them hot tea to soothe them out of the scene and back to their day-to-day lives. Desmond sighed he wished he could have a moment like that with some trusted friends.

Chapter Text

Maria Thorpe had to laugh as she brushed the hay from her husband’s robes. He had not noticed, and it hardly bothered him, but Maria knew he was going to see Malik and the man was perceptive if not proper on how one should look and act. She more than once found herself asking him if she looked alright before making herself known to visiting guests. Malik seemed pleased that at least one of them was taking this job seriously even if she had just finished having sex with Altair on a rooftop in Arce in the hay before Altair leaped off to head back to Jerusalem where Malik was still trying to find a replacement for himself. Maria herself would return to Masyaf to care for their older son Darim who was currently in the loving arms of his honorary aunt Jasmine. She did not think it was a good idea to leave Darim with her, due to her exhaustion with her own little one Tazim but she was happy to watch him regardless.
When Maria returned, she found Darim down for a nap, cuddled around his cousin Tazim. It was way too cute, and she went to Jasmine who smiled at her. No words were needed, and she took over caring for the children to allow Jasmine a chance to sleep. God only knows that Malik is just as sleep-deprived if not more so, to let her rest. She took care of the boys when they woke up crying hungry for food and a good change of their diapers. Eventually, Jasmine was up to assist her by taking her own child. They were soon joined by Altair and Malik, Malik having a smile on his face as he had found a suitable replacement for him. That way he could remain close to home to care for his wife and child. Jasmine smiled at him warmly as she greeted him. They were in love and close. Brought closer together by their son.
Maria and Altair looked at each other and their son, smiles of love and pride on their faces. They had been through so much and now here they all were united as one family. Soon enough, once Darim was officially two, and Tazim a year old Maria gave birth to Sef, their second son. Jasmine had looked at Malik and had told him no. She would rather first adopt before going through childbirth a second time and Malik agreed. It had been very rough on Jasmine despite the precautions they both took. Tazim had to live up to his yet-to-be ancestor Ezio and come out in a dramatic fashion though thankfully he just got stuck coming out and wasn’t born appearing to be stillborn.
All three boys were terrors growing up. Darim was the ringleader being the oldest and often showed an arrogant streak like his father at that age, only made worse because his father was the mentor. Yesh. Tazim was showing himself to take after Malik, most often calling out Darim on his bullshit. Sef was surprisingly the most like Kadar of all people, and even Malik said so. It would be a wonder if any of them would become who they were known to be. All four parents just hoped they would grow out of it and also tried to nip it in the rear, to no avail.
Then Abbas had to pull his shit while Darim, Altair, and Maria were away. Jasmine had taken Tazim to family in another part of Syria, an extended family of Malik’s she was not going to question it too much, and then returned to find Sef dead, and her husband imprisoned. She begged to understand what was going on before the chaos of Altair’s return caused Malik’s death. Altair didn’t strike out, but Jasmine did. She had lost too many loved ones at this point and had to act, going after Abbas directly but he was expecting the attack and killed her. Maria had also died that day.
The afterlife was strange for her, but she found Malik. They were reunited with Kadar as well. Maria found them along with Sef. In time, Kadar found Faheem who apologized to his sons and accepted his daughter-in-law. They met Umar ibn-La’Ahad and slowly their little clan grew. Altair joined them in time. Though they waited for Darim and Tazim the family was reunited and whole.
Yet as they approached the afterlife, they were stopped by one of those who came before who offered them a chance to live again but Jasmine, Malik, and Kadar would have to journey through time to grab other ancestors of Jasmine’s since Cipher, Jasmine’s baby brother Desmond, would need them one day. They agreed and so the trio went through time and worked to save the Auditores from their fate, keeping Edward from screwing up his relationships, Haythem with his father, and Connor knowing both his father and grandfather.
It didn’t work out that way though. Fate’s tapestry was woven tightly and would not be changed but their gift to tag the individuals for the future would work. Minor things changed. Jasmine was the one Ezio delivered the list of names to, Malik told Shay not to touch the precursor site lest he wanted to kill hundreds of innocent people, and Kadar was the one who ensured Connor’s mother survived. In time they returned to the Grand Temple and Jasmine found her brother on the ground…but he was unresponsive and lifeless.
It hurt Malik to hear his wife let out such a primal cry of pain. He had let such a cry out losing Kadar. Kadar was with her and gently took her brother into his arms and they carried him from the grand temple and found an old mohawk gravesite, one not that far from the grand temple where a certain Viking was buried, buried him to put a brother to a deserved rest. Jasmine had a feeling that in time Desmond would return so they had to bide their time building for him a loyal branch of assassins.

Chapter Text

Kadar seemed down. He couldn’t understand why he could not move past his training and why he kept being held back. He had sworn he had learned what he could, but yet, he was constantly told that he was doing wrong and that he would never be a fully-fledged assassin. He was not cut out for life, it was becoming clearer with every passing day, and it hurt him to hear that. His heart was heavy, and it seemed as if he would be in training forever. He was about to lose all composure before a hand rested on his shoulder and he looked up. There was his older brother Malik Al-Sayf.
Malik meant everything to Kadar especially since he was all he had left post their father’s passing not that long after Malik became master assassin. He had heard that prior to his death their father and Malik had a fight. Their father always belittled them both and when Malik made master assassin there was no praise from him, only mirth. All because Altair ibn-La’Ahad had made master assassin first before him and that somehow made Malik a failure in his eyes.
What Kadar did not know however was that his older brother had been born with the soul of someone yet to come, who had already lived. Malik still had not fully understood this other part of himself, this brother from the future who had died and latched on to him to live again. This Desmond had never known love, much like him. They were the same soul in a way. To make things worse between him and Altair, this soul was descended from Altair. So, in a twisted way, he was related. Yet now he had matured.
Malik gave Kadar a small smile and said.
“Well done.”
“Thanks, Brother.”
Kadar said to his brother before he was pulled into an embrace by his brother who told him that no matter what they were brothers, he would love him no matter what. That was true from now till the end.
Having the insight from the future was a major advantage when their mission to Solomon’s Temple came. Malik when Altair was tossed from the room by Robert De’Sable did the same to Kadar, putting him on the same side with Altair and the two fled. Malik would face his death if he had to. Yet he did not have to. He grabbed the artifact and was still dealt a crushing blow to his arm, but he escaped with Robert on his tail. He knew that, and despite wanting to divert the man, he pressed on because he had to arrive at Masyaf.
He reached the village and then the castle, being hugged by Kadar who had been worried about him and why he thought it would be ok to throw him like he did. Rashid asked for an answer to Kadar’s question since Kadar mentioned his uncharacteristic choice of Malik. And all he could say was.
“I did it to save your life, Kadar. You would have died if you stayed there.”
Kadar didn’t understand and wanted to yell at his brother but there was not time. Malik was wounded and Robert was at their doorstep. Malik was taken to the healers and Kadar went to assist in the defense of Masyaf. After it all Kadar watched Altair punished and he shook his head. He went to his brother and was shocked to see his brother with one arm now. It hurt him to see. But yet, he was just glad they were both alive. Once Malik was awake, apologized to his brother for his outburst. Malik waved him off telling him he was right to be concerned by his strange actions. The brothers embraced once more, and Kadar caught him up on everything that had happened. Malik did not look thrilled.
Yet inside he was relieved that despite the change to the timeline things were still going as they had. Altair needed to learn this lesson in humility. Malik would never say it, but he cared about Altair more than a friend. He was a brother and he just needed time before he could say that to Altair directly. Altair had to have his lesson first then he could consider telling him.
Malik was thrilled at his promotion to Dai of Jerusalem. It was indeed a nice change of pace, and he took Kadar with him. Kadar would be safer and happier at the Bureau with him than in Masyaf. Which was true. Kadar actually really came into his own under Malik’s guidance, solely. Malik simply explained that he had known Kadar did better being taught alone than in a group, which was true. The time traveler sharing his brother explained more.
“Kadar is the kind of learner who struggles in a group environment. He needs one-on-one guidance and support from a mentor, not the general regard of a teacher just looking to get through his duties. and that is on Rashid and not Rauf. Rauf’s hands are tied.”
Malik reflected and realized his other half was right. There were a lot of things that Rashid did that did not make sense, but with the preceptive of a time traveler became clearer. Of course, this other half was hiding something from him, something about needing to ensure that the timeline stays mostly intact. Would there be issues if he learned something too early? There was something he knew.
When he read Robert’s Journal, he realized that the traveler held the truth, but for good reason, he needed to have his eyes opened, which he did. Malik realized that he had been protected. And now the traveler shared everything with him, making Malik one of the wisest assassins to live. Malik knew what he had to do. He gathered his men and Kadar, and they road for Masyaf. Altair was embattled and their arrival was right on time.

Chapter Text

It was strange for Desmond, all of this really. He had just met not just his ancestors but many assassins from over the years, and now, walking beside Haythem, he was about to meet the Templars who wanted to meet him, which scared him to no end. These were guys with some serious rap sheets. He was nervous, why wouldn’t he be? He was an assassin born and bred, told from day one that the Templars were their enemies. He was not sure how to take, meeting someone like Robert De’Sable, the most honorable of the templars he had seen in the memories he had witnessed. There was honestly not another like him until Haythem and even then, that was a stretch. He was drawn from his thoughts by a familiar voice calling out to him. The voice was feminine, and oh he knew that voice as it called.

“Desmond! You made it!”

He looked up shocked to see Lucy Stillman, she looked the same as that day in the vault. Regret instantly filled him. He had known afterward none of it was truly her fault. She was a victim of both William and Vedic. With her was Daniel Cross, the gruff and crazy master templar regarded him with a nod. He had seen Nikolai earlier who had told him to take it easy on his descendant, that it wasn’t his fault, that the templars messed with his head as a child. Fucked up. He stopped frozen in his tracks. He had not considered reuniting these two but here they were. He approached Daniel first and asked.

“How are you doing Daniel?”
“Better actually. Don’t hear the voices in my head anymore.”
“Yeah, I don’t either. Still feels like I have the skills though.”
“I feel the same. It was Lucy and I who told the others about you. Clay may have added a few things here and there.”

Daniel admitted and Desmond then understood how the templars of old then knew and wanted to meet him, when his own templar rival spoke of him with respect it made sense. Rodrigo Borgia was definitely a bit of a surprise to meet, the man had been the grand master of the Italian Rite. He spoke plainly and said that he had made a choice he doubted any of his Rite Brothers would make. That it took a certain steel of will do. Antonio Maffei out of habit checked his wounds over finding them visible and yet not harming Desmond in any way, thanked him for saving the world, saying only someone who had Christ’s will could have done that. Cesare Borgia rolled his eyes, clearly not trusting him, and commenting that he looked like Ezio earned him a head smack from Rodrigo who may have said.

“Salvatore preannunciato (foretold savior)”

Which caused Cesare to blanch whiter than the robes of a master assassin, Desmond smirked wanting to call him numb nuts. A tall Viking templar merely laughed, and in a near-crushing bear hug, hugged Desmond and called him.

“Ironhawk”

A true Viknar of the modern age if he ever saw one. Haythem mentioned that was Kjotve the Cruel. Desmond just blanched; he was given a Viking nickname by a Viking Templar as if he was one of his own. Actually, he said right there that he was welcome in the wolf clan. Of course, there was Robert De’Sable who looked at Desmond and gave a soft smile and spoke.

“You and Altair are very similar in your upbringing and appearance. It is very unsettling. But you made a choice that I even find very noble and honorable.”

Desmond was about to break from all the praise even from the enemies of his ancestors, they clearly saw that he had never been given an ounce of respect and it hurt them to see. Uberto Alberti gave Desmond a sad smile agreeing with Cesare that Desmond looked like Ezio. He was gentle with him and it shocked Desmond, this man betrayed his friend. But the one person to approach Desmond as if he was always an ally was Shay Patrick Cormac. The man was a legend by the time Desmond was born and a boggy man. Desmond was just surprised really with just how human these guys were and he was confused in truth. And yet Desmond felt safe, maybe they were all wrong. Desmond offered to be the bridge between the two factions, which they agreed to.

It was a few days before something happened. They were all ripped from the afterlife into one spot, the mentor’s bunker in Norway, the cold air biting those unused to such bitter temperatures. Desmond groaned as he was helped up by Kjotve, and Desmond cursed knowing who was responsible now. The man who stood before them was horribly aged, and if that strong smell of alcohol was any indication very drunk. But even a son knows his father even in such a state. Desmond exploded with a familiar triad that made Ezio and Mario freeze shocked to hear that from Desmond.

“Pezzo di merda! Vorrei solo che avessi sofferto di più! (Piece of shit! I only wish you’d suffered more!)”

Ezio was quick to grab Desmond, along with Kjotve. Both held him back from the global mentor William Miles, his father. Ezio tried to calm Desmond, but it was Shay who spoke up.

“Enough, Desmond! Show some respect.”
“Respect? After all that’s happened. Do you think he would have shown any of us such kindness? He’s a menace. He gave me this!”

Desmond shouted, managing to gesture to his scar. Mario spoke with a hand on Desmond’s shoulder.

“You are not William. Do not become him.”

Mario said and Desmond calmed enough to be let go of, but he stayed where he was. The others were on his side. Templars and Assassins alike stood with Desmond as he calmed down from being yanked from death. They were all a bit ticked, but none had more anger than Desmond.

Chapter Text

Ezio had to admit that it was weird meeting Altair in this fashion, Altair looked to be twenty-seven and he himself was seventeen again. They were both out of time and one thing was certain. Ezio had not been aware that Altair could not swim nor that he hated water, so little was known about the great Mentor of Levent. All he knew was they both needed to get to another area and while Ezio had no qualms about crossing the lake, no bridge to get across, and no boat either, Altair just stood still maybe he was thinking or maybe he truly did not know what to do, but Ezio picked up Altair if he was Sofia and began to walk from one side of the lake to the other, hoping it wouldn’t get too deep in the center. Altair had fussed at first but calmed down when he realized what Ezio was doing. Ezio wondered what was going on in Altair’s head.
Altair cursed that he was so far from home, and without his brothers of the creed at his side, the ones who made things bearable. Malik, Kadar, Rauf, all gone. He truly felt alone, more alone than in the last years of his life. Ezio was charming enough for a creed brother, but he was cocky as hell, and it was a bitter reminder of what he used to be when he had been young, yet he sensed that was a mask for pain that he had suffered in his lifetime. They had come to the lake where he froze, there was that reaction again. There was no way forward that did not involve him getting wet, Allah help him. Oh, he didn’t mind water it’s just…
That was when the memory set in unbidden. His training under Rashid ad-din Sinan was so vastly different from the others that it was a wonder no one noticed, and it was only after speaking with Malik that he learned that he had a different training style. No that wasn’t training, it was abuse what Rashid ad-din Sinan put him through, Malik had been quick to correct. Who the hell thinks it is ok to strike at a child? He had been eleven when Rashid ad-din Sinan took him in and with all the tricks of being the old man in the mountain began to break his defenses and make him his perfect hunting bird and favorite sword. Calming incenses were used to dull his mind to what was happening to him, why would he question it when the Mentor was in control? He had slipped a calming and numbing drug, and when his mind was dulled enough, malleable to suggestion Rashid ad-din Sinan began the so-called training, speaking calmly to the boy to get him to trust him. So eager and so trusting. He was stripped naked of his own will but commanded to do so, and his wrists were restrained above his head as his young unmarred body was on full display before the mentor, who found it worthy for their task. It was on that first night, that Altair lost all innocence, that pig of an old man took that from him. The young and scared eleven-year-old cried out in pain and fear. However that was not the end of it, and it continued for years.
He snapped from the memory at Ezio picking him up, the two moments fading into one for a moment before reality fully took over. He panicked a moment before calming down, seeing that Ezio was carrying him across the lake, without complaint or being asked. He calmed down and was calm until they reached the center of the lake and the deepest part of the lake, that is when the panic came back. He came chest-high on Ezio who did not mind but showed concern because he, Altair, was afraid, and panicking. He clung to Ezio like a small child would their father. It was embarrassing really, and he likely could hear Rashid ad-din Sinan now. A master assassin and former mentor clinging to another creed brother like he was a scared child, how pathetic. Yet Ezio said nothing and carried on.
When they reached the other side Ezio gave Altair his space, but the Levent Mentor went and hid in the first safe space he could find. Ezio sat on shore a moment before he noticed that Altair’s actions did not match that of a mentor but of a scared and traumatized child. He frowned before he decided to find Altair before the Templars did. He was approaching where Altair hid, when a modern brother stepped out, a rifle in hand pointed at him and spoke.

“Who the hell are you and what are you doing on my property?”
“Safety and Peace Brother. I seek another brother who may have come this way.”

The modern brother looked at him and his eyes glowed that familiar glow of gold, as he had been told by Leonardo his eyes did when he activated Eagle Vision. He came up blue, but a blue within the white hiding spot caught his attention and he silently gestured to the hiding spot. Ezio nodded his thanks and approached.

“Altair? Brother? Are you alright? I apologize if I overstepped my bounds ameico mio.”
“It-it isn’t your fault Ezio.”

Altair stepped out and looked at Ezio with some shame on his face. The Modern brother spoke up.

“Would you both like to come inside? I own the safe house and would be remiss if you both froze out here.”
“Thank you fortello.”

Ezio said and Altair nodded. They followed the Modern brother. He set his rifle aside after unloading the ammo and set the ammo aside in a different location. He lowered his own hood turned to face Ezio and spoke.

“We meet at last my prophet.”
“You’re Desmond?”
“Uh Huh. Yeah, I am no god or divine being just another assassin like you both. Just trying to hide from the world.”

Chapter Text

Altair for whatever reason was inconsolable today and Malik for the life of him could not figure out why. Then when Altair pulled back a moment he saw why. He had a fresh bruise on his face. He knew who the likely culprit was, and he couldn’t blame him. Shahbaz ibn-La’Ahad was very much a man of honor and for him to make Altair, his older brother cry, he had to have been very pissed off. To be fair Shahbaz did not take kindly to being spoken of as if he was dead. Malik had blasted Altair when he said that he, Kadar, and Shahbaz were dead. At the time Malik did honestly think the other two were dead, but he knew Shahbaz did everything to protect Kadar and may have given him a merciful death. He had been very surprised when the two showed up on his doorstep looking worse for wear but alive.
Shahbaz ibn-La’Ahad had in the span of days run the gamut of emotions after hearing what his partner had to say in regard to what Altair said about him and Kadar. Malik had been quick to correct others that Shahbaz would have died fighting to the end, protecting Kadar to the end. Malik had sent word to Masyaf about Kadar and Shahbaz’s return and Al-Muliam replied that for the moment it would be best that the two remain with him in his bureau, and it was the one-time Malik did not, to himself, question the mentor’s judgment. He was not going to let Kadar go back there nor would he wish to be parted from Shahbaz.
It was a punishment for Altair for sure given that Shahbaz and Kadar were alive, and that information was withheld. Shahbaz had been very angry with Altair saying that his actions at Solomon’s Temple were spitting in the face of everything their father sacrificed to ensure they both would live and thrive as assassins. Father would be very disappointed in the man he has become. Altair would have normally bitten back but he just silently took Shahbaz’s words to heart and hung his head in shame. The bruise on his face was likely because Shahbaz punched him since he was still mad. Malik sighed Shahbaz was acting a bit like a child given that Altair was changing. He saw the slow progression, heard from the other two bureau heads, and heard from the Novices that Altair was putting in the efforts.
“Altair, brother, what troubles you that you cannot calm down.”
“Shahbaz is right. I am nothing but a disgrace.”
“Brother. Listen. Shahbaz is very upset still. Nearly losing your life changes a person. He is also upset by your actions. You disregarded our creed. You nearly got all four of us killed. I lost my arm thanks to you, and Shahbaz lost his long-time partner in the field. Shahbaz can’t focus out there without me. But I am never going to get back out there because of this.”
Malik waved the stub of his left arm in emphasis. He sighed before he said in a calmer tone.
“Kadar has forgiven you, and I-I forgive you too. You have grown and changed. This right here is a sure sign. You didn’t care before what your brother thought about you and now you do.”
“I-I never wanted to hurt anyone. I never wanted to upset Shahbaz, you, or the master. But I have and even when I have been successful you are all disappointed in me in some way.”
“To be fair with Tala, you got flashy and drew attention. When our brothers do that, it makes the work for the rest of us harder.”’
He paused and sighed.
“I can not speak for the Master but that doesn’t seem right. To treat you with such disdain as you continue to work your way back up. Shahbaz…is…dealing with a lot of personal stuff and your actions added stress to him he didn’t need.”
“I didn’t know. Why didn’t he tell me? I may not have been able to help him much, but we are brothers, he should have at least made me aware.”
“Would you have told Al-Muliam?”
It was a fair question and Altair sighed.
“I would have. More out of concern for him.”
“He knows that. But think about how the master has reacted in the past to any weakness in our ranks. Ahamad Sofian ring any bells Altair”
Altair froze eyeing Malik with suspicion.
“I only told Al-Muliam about that night and later Abbas. Neither would speak of it. So how do you know, and don’t say rumors? I know you; you don’t deal in rumors and gossip. That’s Kadar’s pastime.”
Malik sighed. He knew it had to come out sooner or later.
“Altair. Ever since Shahbaz can remember, he has been seeing the memories of seven other people. He records them in journals. However, neither he nor I can fathom as to why he is seeing these memories. One set…is yours.”
Altair blanched whiter than his robes. He looked at Malik to see if he was lying. But he found no deception on the Dai’s face. Then…then it made sense. Shahbaz likely was woken from the dead of sleep when that happened and told Malik, as he was his only source of comfort. Malik wouldn’t have known what to do back then beyond comforting his friend.
It then occurred to Altair why Shahbaz was acting as he was. With the memories came emotions and it was confusing if not frustrating that he felt this on his own. He just wanted to be himself and not be bogged down by anything else. Altair sighed before he said to Malik.
“Thank you, Malik. I am sorry for causing you to tell me. I am sure in time Shahbaz would have liked to tell me himself.”
“He did. Once he had more of a solid understanding of why he was getting these memories.”
Malik said standing up and helping Altair to steady himself.

Chapter Text

“Self-expression is vital to understanding and enjoying life. You should find an outlet.”
“I have plenty of outlets.”
“I meant besides vaginas.”
“Mother!”
Ezio sat back thinking fondly of that moment. One of the last times he heard his mother speak before everything went wrong. Though even now, when he had made his choice, to stay with Paola and her girls, to give his mother and sister a chance to escape, with Leonardo helping them, he wondered if he had made the right choice. Lowering himself to that of a courtesan and disappearing from the records. Leonardo often saw him, and worried for his friend. There was one such day when Leonardo had come by and Ezio had been ill. He had been at this too long and it was straining his now nineteen-year-old body. Leonardo simply said.
“I will take him. He needs to rest and recover. He needs to mourn if he hasn’t done that yet.”
“Where will you take him, Maestro? He has been with us for two years now.”
Paola said having protected Ezio like a son. He wasn’t let out onto the streets since it was unheard of for a man to be a courtesan. He made his share by tending to the man who was secretly gay, or the woman dissatisfied with her husband. He worked hard but it was rough. Leonardo sighed.
“The fewer people who know the less likely his enemies will find him.”
It was true. Leonardo was going to sneak Ezio with him to Venice. He was granted a pass to get to Venice. He had been working with Claudia who had taken up the Assassin mantle. She did express that she didn’t understand why Ezio stayed behind to ensure they escaped the city. With him out cold, he wouldn’t likely wake up till they reached Venice. That was going to be the plan.
Things rarely go to plan. The wagon had broken down, and Claudia had happened along. She helped him fix the wagon, and then she noticed, not her brother, but something else. Leonardo brushed it off as merely a project he was working on. Claudia nodded. She sat up with Leonardo and caught him up on everything, Madre started speaking again asking constantly where Ezio was, why Claudia was out there taking up her father’s work, and why her uncle Mario had not yet found Ezio. She knew he was alive. She knew that. Claudia figured Ezio would join them once it was safe, but then it had been two years. Leonardo sighed before he was about to speak when Claudia stopped him.
“We’re not alone.”
Two riders follow the cart. Claudia beats the horses with the reins and goes faster.
“What’s happening!? Who are they?”
“Rodrigo Borgia’s men…”
“Why? What do they want with us?”
“I think they want us dead. Leonardo! Hide!”
Leonardo hides inside the cart, along with the still-unconscious Ezio. The poor boy hasn’t stirred despite everything. In a burst of bravery, Leonardo shouts
“They’re trying to climb onboard! Knock them off! Claudia, someone’s on top! Do sharp turns to make the carriage roll. Watch out, don’t let the carriage roll over.”
“Hold on tight, this is going to be a little rough!”
Borgia’s man using some kind of bomb to stop the cart, but Claudia manages to avoid them.
“Claudia! Watch out behind you! Do something! Hold on Claudia, we're almost there!”
Near Romagna, Leonardo gets out of his hiding.
“Go, Leonardo!! They’re here for me, not you! I’ll catch up with you later!”
Claudia jumps off the cart and deals with Borgia’s man using cold steel. She meets Leonardo in the docks.
“Claudia! Here! Over here! Thank you, Claudia! You saved my life.”
“I did what had to be done. You would have done the same.”
“I doubt it. Bravery’s not my strong suit. I owe you a debt sister.”
“You have already repaid it, brother.”
“Huh?”
Leonardo turned to his cart noting that he was seeing a pair of golden-brown eyes watching them before he sighed.
“Before we were attacked, I was going to tell you, Claudia.”
“I know. Thank you for retrieving him. I know he will be safer with you, so please Leonardo keep my brother safe.”
“I will Claudia.”
Claudia worked quickly to get herself on board the ferry to Venice, with help from Caterina Sforza and sailed away. She would when she returned to Monteriggioni tell Madre that Ezio was alive and mostly ok. If hiding from everyone. She realized what he had been through when she, a few hours after Leonardo, had settled in his new workshop and saw how her brother was dressed. He had not been out there as an assassin as she had figured before, no. He was a courtesan, then it made sense why the girls did the work for free for her, they couldn’t take her money, and she was Ezio’s sister. Ezio had been one of them. She saw once he had washed up and was given a spare set of clothes from Leonardo. He was going to remain here and help Leonardo out however he could. There was no more light in Ezio’s eyes, his skin had lost its shine from being indoors constantly, and his hair was a tangled mess now. Claudia hated to see her older brother like this. It drove her to fight harder to find the bastard Templars that destroyed their family as it had.
When Leonardo went to Monteriggioni with Claudia after she had been initiated into the Brotherhood, he brought Ezio with him. Ezio in this short time had recovered rather impressively. There was still a deadness in his eyes, but he was at least presentable to his mother now. She did not need to know what he had to do to survive and the fact he had been away so long. He didn’t speak a word the whole time he had been away having given up on life but to see his mother and sister safe he cried and with a hoarse voice said.
“I am home.”

Chapter Text

Family. Justice. Honor. These are the values guiding my blade. This truth is written in blood, and the shadows are where I strike. I am Giovanni Auditore, and like my ancestors before me, I am an Assassin. And I don’t just mean those who were Auditore I also mean that I am someone else as well. In a few short months my life changed forever. I know my easiest days are behind me, but I don't want them back—not now. My name is Desmond Miles, and I am an Assassin. I am an Assassin. I chose to sacrifice myself for humanity's survival while expressing faith that my fellow Assassins would find a way to stop the new threat. Juno, who had been imprisoned in the eye, because of her hatred for humanity, was unleashed. I had many regrets as I laid my hand on the eye and burned to save the world, the fact I would never have a family of my own, would never shake the novice title, and be considered a failure in my father’s eyes regardless of what I just did. Despite that though my thoughts came back to Ezio and how he had been delt a bad hand, maybe not as bad as me but still. The loss of his family, the loss of his innocence, and the lack of a proper brotherhood to train him when he was dismantling the Templars in Italy, it always bothered me that Ezio was so alone back then. I didn’t know the circumstances behind the events that led to such an event. I had always wanted to right it if I could go back and fix things. Yet I was just one man, what could I do? What difference could I make even if I could go back?
I made a difference. My name was…Giovanni Auditore. Of course, I’d get reborn as Ezio's father, doomed to die at age 40. No, I wasn’t going to let that happen this time. Despite my younger mind, I thought and schemed ways to change the past. While right now I couldn’t do much, I knew in time I’d be trained as an assassin, though recalling what I knew Giovanni meets and marries Maria at age sixteen, so I had sixteen years to figure shit out. I knew at least three major mistakes to correct. First, don't trust Lorenzo with the truth that I am an assassin. I don’t work for him; the assassins walk in the shadows for the people. Second don't fucking trust Ulberto unless I could get to him before the Templars did, though unlikely so don’t trust him. Lastly, be honest with your children, all four of them. And on that note don't spoil Claudia so much and spend more time with Petruccio, both need their father. With that, I knew what I had to do.
I followed Giovanni’s path though there were changes, for one thing, Giovanni never had Eagle Vision. Yet because I had Altair’s full memories this time around, I was able to activate the Second Sight. That had been a moment of pride. But it was the first blow that would tare the bond of brothers apart. The second was when I knew who all the assassins were in the sanctuary. The third and final blow came when I returned from the family crypt and got into a fight with Mario over our training. Despite defending myself, I was scolded, and I left Monteriggioni to Florence. I doubted I would return to Monteriggioni. I did three times I can recall. Once for Father’s funeral, the second time when Mario called me to assist with the Shroud that was hidden there, and the last was when I prevented the Templars from killing me and two of my three sons.
Admittedly living my life as master assassin, now Dai, had been different and most certainly interesting. Due to saving my family by riding the Templars of a few key allies, not only was my life saved along with Federico and Petruccio, but Mario in 1500 also. We all have to live and die more natural deaths. I have written this for you, My sons. My dear sons, dark skies are rising over Florence and time is running low. The enemy is closer than I thought. Now, the final battle is about to unfold. Every man is mortal, and every life bounds to an end, but certain things will never change. Federico and Ezio, my sons, always remember we are the Auditore da Firenze, and we are Assassins. Not the nobles we pretend to be, but common folk who work in the dark to serve the light. There will come a day in which men no longer cheat each other. And on that day, we will see what mankind is truly capable of. I know I will not see you that day, maybe this time my sons you will be lucky. Federico know that I have always had faith in you to find your passion. And to you Ezio as I said on the day you were born Tu sei un Auditore. Sei un combattente. Perciò combatti! Though for you alone my future self has to say that you did well the first time, that all the suffering you went through was worth it, it helped to save the world. You serving as Prophet was the edge, we future assassins needed. While I regret not getting to tell you this in person, as by the time you have found this to read, I have passed on peacefully, know that I love all four of you equally and hope that you understand that everything I did was out of love for you. Claudia my fiery daughter you grew into your own assassin and woman and could not be more proud of you. And Petruccio, I know you wanted more than anything to be out there with your siblings fighting for our beliefs, but as Malik Al-Sayf once said We are one. As we share the glory of our victories, so too should we share the pain of our defeat. In this way, we grow closer. We grow stronger. You play your part as Rafiq well. With all my love, your father, Giovanni Auditore da Firenze.

Chapter Text

"You must help him! That pretty face is his only asset!"
"Fottiti! (Go fuck yourself!)"
The brothers shared their spat with each other before the Doctor looked over the younger’s wound. It was a fun and fond memory. Ezio sighed as he looked around, he was wondering why he was recalling that memory. Federico died years ago now and Ezio was about to see to freeing Roma from the Borgia. He shook his head and continued on; Cesare already stolen his vengeance on Rodrigo. The man needed to die.
Worlds away in Thedas, Federico recalled that same moment with a bit of sad fondness. Dorian of House Pavus his partner looked at him and said.
“Federico? You there? You are very quiet right now.”
“Eh? Sorry Dorian. I was, remembering a fond memory actually.”
“Oh? About what if I may ask? Unless you still don’t want to share.”
Federico sighed before he said.
“Screw it at this point, we are about to basically face death. The truth is I was a Florentine noble and a member of the Italian Brotherhood of Assassins. The eldest son of Giovanni and Maria Auditore, I was the older brother of Ezio, Claudia, and Petruccio, as well as the only Auditore child to be personally trained by Giovanni as an Assassin. By 1476, I had begun discreetly mentoring Ezio in the Assassins' ways at our father's request, teaching him such useful skills as fist-fighting and free running. However, I would never get the chance to complete his brother's training due to my arrest and execution as an alleged accomplice to Giovanni, who had been falsely accused of treason.”
It was not just Dorian present but Blackwall, the grey warden, Cassandra, the seeker, Cole, a fade spirit, Iron Bull, a Qunari warrior, Sera, an elf with a pranking nature, Solas, a wise elf of many years, Varric, a dwarf storyteller, Vivienne, a mage, his advisors Cullen, a mage hunter, Josephine, a noble, and Leliana the spy master. They all looked shocked before Federico explained everything to them from what assassins were where he was from, why he kept agreeing when people said he was Antvian, what the templars of his world were, and lastly that he had died, hung.
There was silence. Andraste’s tits there wasn’t this much silence and tension since the fall of Haven. Federico looked worried before Varric said.
“Federico, look, I understand why you withheld all that. It’s a lot to take in. but for what it is worth, I believe you.”
“Thank you, Varric.”
Cole was the next to speak.
“The memory you were just experiencing, was a joyful one. The last joyful one you had with your younger brother. You miss him.”
“Yeah, I do Cole.”
Each of his found family reminded him why they trusted him, why he was inquisitor, and why he was the herald of Andraste. He smiled and knew that when this was over, they would have a lot to do.
After the fight with Corphys, something happened. Federico opened his eyes and found he was back in Rome. He looked about confused then he spotted Dorian, Iron Bull, and Varric who looked at him in confusion. Varric spoke first.
“I take it this is home for you?”
“The world yes, the city no. It would be like if we were dropped in Denrium and I asked any of you the same question. Yes, it would be Thedas, but not Minorthros, Par Vallon, or Kirkwall.”
Varric nodded before saying.
“Point taken Partha.”
“Partha? You finally gave me a nickname Varric.”
“Yeah, it’s Dwarf for Peace. Since you mentioned your name means peaceful ruler. And you did often promote peace as it is.”
Federico smiled, though it faded when he saw movement on the rooftops. Assassin brothers. But they didn’t know him and with how he wore high dragon scale mail and carried an Assassin’s full loadout he looked suspicious. He said.
“I think we are about to be either attacked or approached. Do not engage in a fight. They are not our enemies here. They are just doing their job.”
Just as he said they were approached by assassins in white and red robes. There was a tall assassin wearing the most ornate robes of the bunch. He wore a shoulder cape that…
“Wait you are an Auditore?”
Federico asked the assassin, who froze and asked.
“Federico? Fortello?”
“Ezio?”
They nodded to one another and then embraced, insulting each other for a moment before Ezio turned to his assassins and said.
“It is all good. They are welcome guests. We will head to Tiber Island.”
He turned to two assassins and said.
“Get my mother and sister, they need to know this.”
“Si Mentor.”
Federico blinked and asked
“Mentor? You little brother? I am impressed. Last, I recall, you called me a dick.”
“Well, you were being one, being lazy and laying around the house.”
“True.”
Federico said. Ironbull spoke up and asked.
“So, this is your little brother you spoke so highly of. I like him already.”
“I agree Partha.”
“Indeed Inquisitor.”
Ezio frowned at the last bit, and Federico’s arm pulsed with a green light. Varric said.
“Ah, Partha that can’t be good.”
“No, it is not. Ezio tell me, have there been, well tears into what looks like hell?”
“Yes, actually with actual demons. I thought Templars were bad.”
“Now I am starting to understand why my friends and I are here. I am the only one who can seal those rifts.”
Ezio shook his head and said.
“Machiavelli will be thrilled there is a solution.”
“Good.”
Federico said before he said to Dorien.
“Next time lead with Herald of Andraste. I think Inquisitor bears the same stigma I kept giving Cullen and his men.”
“I did not mean to cause such discomfort beloved. I will ensure to do as you ask.”
“Thank you.”
Ezio smiled and said.
“Finally found someone eh brother.”
“Don’t say it Ezio.”
“What? My closest friend is similar. And he is still my friend.”

Chapter Text

Desmond Miles stood with his adoptive siblings as their father spoke to them. He had just joined the family after he had woken up in the past. The story was that he had fallen from a great height and that is why he was the way he was. Desmond did not complain, nor was he to be ungrateful to this kind family. At Desmond’s right stood his brother Federico Auditore a Florentine noble and a member of the Italian Brotherhood of Assassins. The eldest son of Giovanni and Maria Auditore, he is the older brother of Ezio, Claudia, and Petruccio, as well as the only Auditore child to be personally trained by Giovanni as an Assassin. At least the first time before Desmond woke up five hundred years in the past. Next to him was Ezio Auditore a Florentine nobleman who did not know about the assassins until he was seventeen. Next to him was Claudia a Florentine noblewoman who grew up unaware of her Assassin heritage, being raised as a traditional noblewoman. Lastly, next to her was Petruccio Auditore, a Florentine noble. Born into the House of Auditore, he was the youngest child of Giovanni and Maria Auditore, and the younger brother of Federico, Ezio, and Claudia. He was also sickly growing up but today was one of his better days.
Giovanni looked at all four of his children and Desmond who was to make the fifth child, and sort of be a twin brother to Ezio. He sighed, this was indeed a mess and rumors were flying before he could get a handle on them. He spoke to all five of them and said.
“It would seem as if fate wanted you four to have another brother in your life. I want you four to treat him as a sibling born to the family, understood?”
“Si Padre.”
All four said. Giovanni nodded before he turned to look at Desmond saying.
“Please, I understand things for you prior to this were rough, but you are not alone anymore. We are here for you. All of us.”
“Thank you, sir. I am grateful truly. That being said how are you going to handle the rumors? The popular one amongst the lower classes is a case of infidelity when the nobles say a kidnapped child.”
Giovanni saw that Desmond did not like the rumors of him being unfaithful though he was surprised that Desmond in the short time had actually heard the rumors. He gave him a questioning look before he asked.
“Have you been listening?”
“Hard for me not to. I was trained to listen to everything. Anything could be useful. Depending on the circumstances. For instance, the baker is currently low on Syrian flour he uses for his Arabic treats and thus has not been able to make them since there has been trouble getting the flour and Italian flour doesn’t have the same texture. To me that says there are high taxes on the import, bandits keep attacking, or there is currently a famine in Syra.”
Desmond said. Federico was impressed that from so little Desmond was able to come up with three likely cases as to what was going on. Giovanni nodded impressed as well. Ezio asked.
“I do though second Desmond’s question from earlier Padre. The rumors are untrue and are borderline hurtful.”
“I know son. I am unsure as to what to say given that until now they have only known the four of you.”
Desmond smiled and said.
“Well going with the Noble’s theory, it was a bit hectic at Ezio’s birth, right?”
“Yes…Oh, I see how that works. I was focused on Ezio a clever kidnapper who easily could have taken a second child.”
“Indeed.”
Ezio nodded though he did not know what was being said. And yet a solution had formed. Desmond was his long-lost younger twin brother who had been snatched at birth. He only just returned after learning of his kidnapping. So, when Giovanni brought Desmond to meet Lorenzo, the magnific asked Giovanni.
“I did not know you had a fourth son.”
“Maria was pretty heartbroken when it happened, we felt it was best to move on. I kept an ear out, but it was Ezio who accidentally found him after witnessing him falling from the rooftops.”
Giovanni said to start the tale and Desmond smiled saying.
“Mi scuso, anche se il mio italiano è un po' carente. Sono cresciuto a Masyaf in Siria, quindi l'arabo è la mia lingua madre. È un onore incontrarti. (My apologies, though my Italian is a bit lacking. I was raised in Masyaf Syria, so Arabic is my mother tongue. It is an honor to meet you.)”
“That was actually very good young man.”
Lorenzo said and Desmond replied.
“Credo (I suppose)”
Lorenzo laughed and said.
“He is definitely your son if he can bite back like his twin.”
“Indeed. Though you are the first he has mentioned where he was this whole time too.”
“Really?”
Desmond only nodded as Uberto Alberti came in and was surprised.
“Oh, Giovanni I wasn’t aware that you were here, nor that you have another son.”
“Ah Uberto Alberti, this is my son Desmond Auditore da Masyaf. Desmond son, this is Uberto Alberti, Gonfaloniere of Florence.”
“È uno stimato onore, signore. (It is an esteemed honor, sir.)”
Desmond said, hiding his distrust for Uberto. He had not had a chance for alone time with Giovanni to tell him the truth and warn him about the conspiracy and how close they were. Uberto smiled with charm and said.
“You said Masyaf, in Syria. That is quite a journey, young man. You must be well educated then.”
Desmond smirked and said.
“I was raised by the Al-Sayf family after they saved me from the bandits that took me as a child. Not knowing exactly where I was from, they took me in. They hail from some of the greatest scholars, and swordsmen of the land’s history.”
Everyone was impressed, and Desmond swore he heard Malik’s voice from the afterlife say.
“I approve. Welcome to the family Desmond.”

Chapter Text

The oldest two brothers of the Auditore Children, Federico, and Ezio, fighting was a regular occurrence, and everyone had their own reactions, which ranged from fear to strained patience to anger to what the hell. Off to the side of the fight, was their mother, Maria, father, Giovanni, littlest brother, Petruccio, and sister, Claudia. However there was another watching since they did recently have a brother join them, an adoptive brother they were passing off as a kidnapped younger twin to Ezio. Desmond was watching, not too thrilled to see his twin and oldest brother fighting for no apparent reason, at least to him. But he was no expert on siblings, never having any until now. He watched how the rest of the family handled the situation. Since again no experience compared to them.
Petruccio did not understand why they were fighting so much lately, more often than before. Things should have been fine, especially since Desmond came, and a lost older brother returned. They were happy and together, a whole family. The innocence of the child was rather cute to Desmond though he knew that the child would learn sooner than later that things were not as they first seemed. Not with their family and not with the world and Desmond dreaded the day such innocence would be ruined for all of them.
Maria had the look of ‘lord help me, or I will kill these two myself’ on her face as she tried to remain calm as this was the umpteenth fight this month alone, which was a lot. She tried to be patient to understand that they were growing boys, still young, and were reckless. She, like Desmond, did not have siblings so raising five children with different personalities was a challenge. Desmond took pity and often was the quiet one, keeping out of trouble, for everyone’s sake. Anytime one of the two troublemakers came up another would say, ‘Yeah but look at Desmond he is such a polite and helpful lad’. If anything, Madre could count on him to work with her and help her out, especially when these two started fighting.
Giovanni was, if anything, angry that the boys were fighting in the first place, sure he and Mario had their spats and their massive falling out. They were brothers and brothers should not act in such a manner, especially before their younger siblings who looked up to them. They should not go down the same path he and his brother Mario went down. None of his children knew who their uncle Mario was thanks to that massive argument between brothers, something Giovanni wanted to avoid. Giovanni was gearing up a punishment for these two, and Desmond was just glad to stay out of it, to be the good kid. Desmond, being the well-behaved son, had earned him respect from his father who often spent time with him since it was clear he had assassin training. It was an honor truly. A man like Giovanni was what a childlike Desmond needed.
Claudia was exacerbated by these two, how many times had they done this dance and looked a moment to Desmond, who was nearby, and mouthed a thank you for him being the least annoying. To some degree all four of them annoyed her, yes even Petruccio annoyed her, and Desmond the least so since all he did was ensure she was ok, like check on her from time to time during the day. He’d leave her be if she told him so, and later she would find him, and he would simply listen to her woes, a shoulder to cry on and lean on. He had told her he could not give advice, as he was not good at such, but he would at least allow her to vent how she felt, lest she keep it bottled up and well what was before they happened. She was grateful for that. Grateful to Desmond for such a service.
For his part Desmond simply could not figure out why these two were fighting, he was thinking of everything too, and he meant everything before he took a moment, breathed, and said
“Alright enough you two. It is bad enough you are fighting but in front of us all?”
That made everyone go quiet. Ezio and Federico let go and looked at each other then back to everyone. Giovanni chuckled and said.
“Indeed, I agree with Desmond, well said son.”
“I apologize for overstepping.”
“This is fine son.”
Giovanni said before lecturing his oldest two sons on their current behavior especially since their brother returned to them. How was the kidnapped child who was raised in Syria better behaved than them? How was Desmond who had been steeped in the Muslim faith more respectful of everyone than those who were raised Catholic and taught to be good people? It bewildered him and Maria both. Giovanni said.
“People talk boys. At first, they were speaking ill of Desmond calling him a heathen Devil for how he was raised, now they find themselves respecting the heathen since he has been nothing but helpful.”
Maria knew that last part to be true since Desmond was actually working for the artist Leonardo DaVinci. Leonardo had been skeptical too at first, but he rather enjoyed how talented and hardworking Desmond was. He was in the Muslim and Jewish Holy Land most of his life, but now near enough to the Christian Holy land was impressive. Ezio flinched to hear his brother called a Heathen for being of a different faith. He was raised in a predominantly Muslim family after all. He could see him praying at certain times of the day and eating only certain foods. He did not drink wine at all. It was interesting to see. Federico looked away and said.
“To be honest, half the time I do not know why I let myself get into these fights when they are so trivial.”
“Good to know that you understand in the grand scheme of things that these fights are nothing.”
Giovanni said sternly.

Chapter Text

29 December 1476, was a date that would be forever forged in the mind of Ezio Auditore. It was the day his family was cut in half. His father, Giovanni Auditore, and two brothers, Federico and Petruccio Auditore, were killed on false charges of conspiracy against Florence, despite Ezio’s efforts. Ezio was only seventeen years old when it happened, but it hurt him greatly to lose his father, a source of strength and guidance. It hurt him to lose his older brother Federico who had been his partner in crime and the one he could confide his woes in. It hurt to lose Petruccio who was only thirteen and had only begun to live life. He would carry this pain and burden for the remainder of his life. A reminder he had been too weak to save his father and brothers from their fates. He lived on with regret and pain for years. He would die with regrets.
Fate had a strange sense of humor when it came to these three. Starting with Giovanni Auditore. He looked around aimlessly at the abyss of death calling for his two younger sons before he came on a scene that angered both the father and the assassin in him. He saw a brother, only five years older than Federico alone and about to sacrifice himself to save humanity. Not realizing this was his way back to life, Giovanni leapt towards the boy and saved him from dying though the shield that was meant to save the world did still activate. The boy looked at him confused before he passed out. Following a path carved out for him Giovanni took the boy away from the Grand Temple and cared for him as if he was his own son. The boy, whose name was revealed to be Desmond eventually warmed up to Giovanni and carried on as if the old assassin was truly his father. They settled down in New York, in a small home but it was enough for the two. Unaware of the growing threat from another Isu and that great champions were needed.
Federico found himself in a world of magic and chaos. Thrust into a civil war between Mages and their Keepers the Templars, along with a religion he did not understand, he was once again accused of conspiracy. However, this time he was named the Herald of Andraste and became the leader of the Inquisition. Using the anchor, Federico closed rifts, untied the people of Thedas, and pulled together a rag-tag group of heroes to save this world. In time he would find a partner in Dorin, a mage from Tivinter. He would rise up to be the hero Thedas needed in their hour of need even when betrayed by one of his allies, Solos, who turned out to be a “god” in disguise. He would never truly know what became of his family back on earth, but he was happy for the second chance he got. He did not know that all this would prepare him for his return to Earth and his family when the time came down the road.
Petruccio would also get a second chance at life as well, winding up in a world where people and Pokémon worked side by side. He was taken in by a trainer by the name of Steven who had a Charizard, a female named Mikki. Petruccio, being of age got his starter Pokémon, which was a strange one for any trainer before, as a Happiny bonded with him, helping him recover from his illness. His second Pokémon was Type Null after it saw the boy in danger. His third Pokémon was Absol who protected the boy from a natural disaster. His fourth Pokémon was a Ralts, Ralts senses the emotions of people using the horns on its head. This Pokémon rarely appears before people. But when it does, it draws closer if it senses that the person has a positive disposition. Petruccio always had such, and his Ralts was female after all. His fifth Pokémon was a Rufflet which Known as a natural-born warrior, soon after its hatching, will challenge its parent to a fight in order to gain their acceptance. His final Pokémon is a Growlithe a Hisuian Growlithe. Friendly and loyal, but also jealously protective of its territory. Carelessly approaching it may result in a bite. Petruccio with this team went on to become a Pokémon champion and lived happily and comfortably. He did not know this bond with his team would be what would win the day.
Desmond got wind of his father’s antics when he reunited with Shaun and Rebecca after seven years apart. He heard from them that his father was making a deal with the devil so to speak, and Desmond brought them to meet Giovanni who when he heard this said.
“Desmond, Son, I know you have to do this, but let me help. You are not alone anymore.”
“Alright father.”
Those were the guiding words that brought to them, Ilmentore Ezio Auditore, regressed in age to seventeen but will all his memories and skills intact, Inquisitor Federico Auditore herald of Andraste, Master Assassin Claudia Auditore, and Pokémon Champion Petruccio Auditore. The siblings reunited not only with each other, but their father. Ezio and Claudia finally got to meet Desmond and understood why they had been brought back and together; they were needed. Petruccio smiled as he brought out his team of Hisuian Arcanine, Braviary, Gardevoir, Absol, Silvally, and Blissey. Desmond smiled to see the Pokémon and noticed that the type of Pokémon that had joined Petruccio.
“Huh, Arcanine is a loyal Pokémon to its trainer, Braviary is known as a brave a stalwart defender, Gardevoir will go as far as to sacrifice it’s self for its trainer, Absol protects from natural disasters, Silvally is another powerful defender, and Blissey is a healing Pokémon.”
“Yeah, watch this that I can do with Braviary.”
Desmond watched the Pokémon take flight and Petruccio’s eyes became that familiar gold.
“You-you have the original sight!”
Desmond said in shock and awe.

Chapter Text

Malik blinked several times to ensure he was truly seeing what he thought he was seeing. That Altair was asleep on the pile of pillows and blankets. The man never slept cause…cause Al-Mulaim instilled in him not to. While other brothers slept, lightly though due to being assassins, Altair would meditate, and the method worked for a time, but Malik started to notice how unhealthy it was for the assassin. He sighed, Altair had a long ride back to Masyaf and it would be better if he rested. Malik though laid his dark blue and sliver outer robe over Altair and then went inside without another word. It would be a while before that Novice would wake up.
The noon sun was at its height and Altair awoke. He found Malik’s outer robe draped over him and he sighed. Malik was warming up to him he knew. They had been friendly as children but the stupid rivalry over the years had made them bitter. The master made them enemies rather than encouraging the friendship that could have brought peace to their kingdom. Altair shook his head. He knew what he had to do. He had heard from the elders about his, Abbas, and Malik’s fathers having been friends having been a team. He was going to recreate that.
Malik was pleased to see Altair awake and he was curious to the fact that it appeared that Altair was deep in thought. Altair looked at him and said.
“Malik, I am sorry for my actions in Solomon's temple. I was arrogant, selfish, and wrong. I cost you your arm, your career as a field assassin and I cost you Kadar. Nothing I say or do will bring any of that back. I am sorry.”
Malik was shocked. He was not expecting Altair to apologize to him for that. He knew Altair had become humbled over the past year of hunting for the nine templars marked to die, but he did not expect him to apologize. Yet here it was. He finally said.
“I forgive you Altair. Though in reflecting on myself, I too should apologize. I was jealous of you. You had talent and skill, and I had to work hard to get where I was. You are the youngest to have been granted the rank of Master. You could easily command the attention of novices like Kadar. I-lashed out and you responded in kind.”
“Malik. I never blamed you. I am sorry that I was blind to your pain. We should have been friends, should have worked together. My father gave his life for peace and the safety of our brothers and all I ever did was spit on that.”
“I was not much better Altair. I would like to be friends with you, not just because I like you as such, but to honor our fathers.”
“I would like that too.”
Altair said. After some talking Altair returned to Masyaf. When he returned, he was met by Abbas who was about to say something cruel to Altair before he said.
“Abbas just the brother I wanted to see.”
“What?! What do you mean?”
“Abbas look. You and I have been through a lot together over the years. I miss our friendship. But please you have to understand what I told you that day was the absolute truth. I never lie to those I care about. Your father was never sent away nor did he leave. He killed himself. I do not know what more I can say to make you believe me.”
Abbas held his anger in. He wanted so much as to punch Altair but before he could another elder, one of the scholars, had been a young assassin back then. He approached them both and said.
“Abbas Altair is telling you the truth. I saw your father’s body, he slit his own throat in front of an eleven-year-old child.”
Abbas turned pale and he looked at the elder. He could only ask.
“Why? Why would he do that?”
“He was Umar’s friend. And he betrayed him. He was tortured and he gave up his friend’s name. Even Faheem yelled at him for that. He felt guilty for that.”
Abbas broke down realizing his mistake and Altair hugged him. Abbas hugged back and said.
“Altair I am sorry. I have been acting like a child this whole time. But why did you wait to tell me?”
“It was the Master’s order. He told me to never tell you.”
“Well, I am glad you did.”
The two rekindled their friendship. So, when the time came, it was not just Malik there to help Altair but Abbas too. Abbas ran up to the two out of breath and then he said.
“Allah, I am glad to see you both. The master has lost it. It’s that treasure you to recover. It has done things to him and our brothers.”
“Guard yourselves well friends. He will do to us what he has done to the others.”
Malik and Abbas nodded. The trio formulated a plan, and they were able to save their brothers at the cost of the Master’s life. The trio worked together to lead the Brotherhood into a new era of peace and prosperity. Altair still married Maria and had two sons, and Malik still has his son, though Abbas decided in the end, for all he had done prior it would be wise if he left Masyaf. In time a letter would come from “The New World” and Abbas had successfully set up a branch of the Brotherhood and was a mentor. Malik and his family went north towards the Holy Roman Empire and set up a branch there with Malik as Mentor. Over the years the trio would meet back in Masyaf to catch up and strengthen the bonds.
That is why even in this modern day, 29th of November in 2023, all branches meet up in Masyaf to catch up and strengthen the bonds of brotherhood. I am Desmond Miles, Mentor of the Levent Branch and I am currently hosting this reunion of our brothers. Just as Altair, Malik, and Abbas once did.

Chapter Text

There they were, the two of them against Robert De’Sable and his men. Kadar was decent at fighting but even he was no match for those who fought alongside the Templar Grandmaster.
“KADAR!”
“No!”
“Malik!”
Kadar’s voice rang through the nightmare waking him, as his hands touched his bare skin. Malik was shocked as he woke up. He was confused Kadar was dead right?
“Kadar?”
“Are you alright? You started to shout my name, Brother.”
Malik looked at his…hands. They were both there, this had to be a dream, it was just a nightmare, I needed to calm down. He thought to himself not wanting to scare Kadar. His brother smiled at him and said.
“You scared me…why don’t you try to sleep some more? Al-Mualim is going to call us soon.”
Malik settled down and said.
“Thank You, Brother.”
“Sleep well, Malik.”
Malik slept peacefully until he woke up again. It was not like before. When he looked, he found only one hand was held up, it was just a dream again…
“Kadar…”
What could Malik say? This dream kept happening to him ever since he lost his arm and Kadar died. He did not know what more he could do honestly. He kept pressing one but maybe that was the problem. He was not addressing the grief he felt. He wanted to, surely, but he did not know how to face it honestly. He heard movement beside him and up rose his partner, Desmond Miles. The man had come from the future, he believed him on that for sure, and they formed a friendship that turned into quite a relationship. Desmond saw the grief on his face. He had come shortly after Altaïr killed their master to save everyone. He cupped Malik’s face gently and asked.
“Habibati ma aladhi yuzeijuki? (my love, what troubles you?)”
“Alhuzn aladhi lam 'ataeamal maeah bishakl sahih min qibal. (Grief I never properly dealt with before.)”
Malik said honestly to his partner who pulled him into the most loving embrace he has ever felt in his life. And the flood gates opened as Malik cried and mourned for his brother all the while Desmond was at his side soothing him and letting him cry. Desmond let him feel all his emotions without judgment and fear. Finally, Malik calmed down and said.
“Thank you habun (love)”
“Of course, Malik. Do you feel better?”
“To some degree yes. Does the grief go away?”
“No. it does not. I still mourn over someone I cared about and killed by accident. The pain is less, especially since I have you now Malik, but it is still there.”
Desmond said, thinking about Lucy Stillman. Yeah, she may have been a traitor, but he could not blame her when his father left her to rot at Abstergo, and then did nothing when Clay started to lose his mind. He could forgive her for that because she did her best to help them. Sure, she leaked where they were twice, but Vedic played her for a fool. Played Daniel for a fool too. None of that mattered anymore though as he was flung nine hundred years into the past after he had given his life to save the world. He knew it was mere days after Altair took the mantle of Mentor and everyone was on edge. He came from nowhere and had nothing to his name, and all Altair could do at the moment was to send him to Malik in Jerusalem.
Malik had gone back to Jerusalem to resume his duties and he was surprised to see Desmond arrive escorted by some novices from Masyaf. The letter from Altair explained part of the issue and what help he needed from Malik. It was to see if he could discern if Desmond was telling the truth. Malik did not know how to go about that exactly, beyond actually befriending the man. Which he did slowly. Desmond made himself useful by tidying up the Bureau, running errands for him and even cooking for everyone. The cooking part served to ease their brothers to his presence.
Malik in time was able to report to Altair that Desmond was telling the truth, that he was indeed from the future, and had died to save several thousand innocent people from burning to death. Malik had also accessed Desmond’s skills, and had corrected some bad habits, gently after learning the hard way that Desmond had been abused as a child and had been forced to learn their ways, Desmond was named a fully-fledged assassin. Because he had a modified blade, he did not need to lose his ring finger, but he still severed it as a show of loyalty to his newfound family.
Malik finally admitted to Desmond how he felt about him and that led to where they were now, sleeping next to each other and caring for one another’s health, physical and mental. Desmond was the rock Malik did not know he needed to be able to move on from his grief. Due to Desmond being around, Altair mended the rift between him and Abbas. This worked out since Malik wanted to remain in Jerusalem, and Desmond did honestly almost have a panic attack the last time he was in Masyaf. Altair was able to calm him and said.
“You probably would be better off with Malik in Jerusalem.”
“I am sorry Mentor.”
“No need Desmond.
Altair smiled at him and said.
“I am trying to be better. Realizing the needs of my assassins is a step in that direction.”
Desmond nodded with a smile before he left to join Malik in Jerusalem. That is where they have been ever since, helping to spread the influence of the brotherhood from the Holy Land. They lived quite a while and passed away quietly in their sleep together, embraced in each other’s arms. They would reawaken in the modern world side by side as they had always been, but that is a tale for another time.