~ An Eagle's Path ~

My first Assassin's Creed story, but my fourth story in total. How cool isn't that? I'm surprised actually, barely even one year ago, I would've never seen myself able to publish a story here. I just figured I was too bad at writing.

But hey, look at me, I'm seriously publishing my fourth story, I'm amazed.

Definitely something to be proud of.

Anyhow, onwards with the story and the disclaimer so you can finally read!

Note: I'm only going to do the disclaimer once, and it's in this chapter!

Disclaimer: I don't own Assassin's Creed or any of its characters! Although the OCs are mine.

P.S. For those who read the story up until 30/05-16, I have changed Mother Nasja'h's name to Nashwa, as Nashwa means intoxicating and/or fragnance. I feel this fits her character better, and most arabic names have a meaning. However, Faher's name is completely made up.

Chapter One – Feather's Fate

Masyaf was a city that rarely ever slept. Not even during the nights did silence ensue within. Despite the calm exterior Masyaf presented from afar, the city shielded by its massive walls, it was anything but. The exterior was only an illusion, one that broke with every waking day when the sun crawls above the distant horizon of the land. Come high-noon, the paved streets bustle with life - merchants calling out to walking by passers, trying to lure them in with their wares as giggling courtesans dressed in fine silks hide underneath the shades to keep away from the heat of the sun beating down ruthlessly. Carts wheel their way through the endless streams of people carrying newly acquired goods meant to later be sold or traded, and the thieves of the city use such opportunities when the civilians are distracted to pickpocket from those unfortunate ones to have their attention drawn away.

The daily commotion that happens in the heart of Masyaf, is the singular trait that separates the city from the rest. There was always something that happened during the day, surprising the people within with new interesting turns of events – whether it be the thieves, brawls or kidnappings; there simply wasn't a day that passed by without trouble occurring. And on this specific day, a girl finds herself running away from the city guards. She was the day's main event.

Her fingers clambered for the stretch of wood that was above her, and as it came within reach, they dug themselves into the solid material, gripping onto it with desperation as to not let the piece of wood go. She swung her body forward and upwards, using the force of the swing to help her in heaving her form up onto the protruding wooden beam. A rush of air escaped her lips as she quickly steadied her footing before coming low into a crouch and pressing her frame as far as possible into the surface of the wall behind her.

If she were to stumble and then fall down, the hard impact onto the paved ground wouldn't be the only thing awaiting her, the guards would great her with a welcome party consisting of swords and spears. A party she rather not be invited to.

As she settled onto the ledge she threw a wayward glance downwards, and her eyes widened slightly in surprise, for she was way further up than what she had originally anticipated. She hadn't known that the jump from the crates up to the beam would be so far up, yet it seemed to be that way.

It was a surprising feat for her, because she didn't know her small form was capable of succeeding with such a thing, but somehow and someway she managed to find herself nestled on top of the wooden beam - even though the logic of it evaded her.

The most sensible explanation she could find in order to actually understand, was that it had to be her desperation in wanting to avoid the guards that helped in fueling the adrenalin coursing through her body at the time, making her mind ignore the many risks of jumping to the ledge, instead just going with her body's instincts. She was grateful over that fact, for if she hadn't had that extra energy fueling her, she would probably be running the streets still, turning corners and elbowing people out of the way in an attempt to throw the guards off her track. Luckily though, that scene never had to play out since she was now at present time located on a far above ledge, and could study the bustling people below in peace, without the rampaging city guards on her heel.

Not that watching people was a particularly fun pastime however, it was actually a rather boring thing to do, especially for someone who had lived in the city all her life. She had seen the same people many times over and over, and they along the way simply lost the interest they once held.

A stampede of footsteps quickly neared her position, and a sudden zing of fear shot through her body, causing her to hold her breath in anticipation. The danger wasn't over yet, not until the guards disappeared.

The forming lump in her throat was making it difficult for her to swallow, and she had to stop her body from going into complete lockdown several times by having to force air down to her lungs. Her concentration on keeping steady on the ledge suddenly started to suffer from her lack of focus, and she faltered in her footing, her balance unhinging. To maintain the last of her balance, she quickly grasped the wall behind her - in order to keep herself intact, all the while inwardly hoping and praying that she wouldn't make the mistake of falling down and then get spotted by the incoming guards.

Her heartbeat had skyrocketed at the distinctive sound of the stampeding guards, and it was now beating two times quicker than its usual steady rhythm. Her every attempt at calming her heart turned out to be futile, for it was vigilant in beating 300 times per minute, and she made a sound of frustration.

She knew she was high up above ground level so that a normal peripheral wasn't enough to see her, but there was still the chance that one of the guards looked smarter than he was and would glance upwards and take notice of her huddling position in the completely obvious and out in the open hiding spot. And if they did, they would probably proceed to shoot her down with arrows and then drag her to some closed off place and she would be gone from history for good.

It was the usual scenario that happened when people were caught stealing - that, or they came back with only one hand. She had seen it happen, to both strangers and to those she once called friends.

It wasn't a pleasant sight, watching them wither away.

She shivered at the thought of losing one of her own limbs like they had. A thief with only one good working hand would no longer be able to continue their profession, but if they didn't they would most likely starve to death, presuming that infection didn't kill them off first. Either way, the odds of survival would be close to none if she lost one of her hands, and those weren't exactly the odds she would want to be up against.

However, she didn't have to, because she solved the issue by escaping in her own unique fashion - she simply took to the walls and rooftops, the guards not agile enough to scale the walls quick enough to catch her before she disappeared from sight.

The stampeding guards were now right below her, and the breath she inhaled caught in her throat at the close proximity. It was rather nerve-wracking to be in plain sight like she was, for everyone could see her if they chose to look up.

However, fortune must have been upon her that moment for the guards just continued on, leaving only dust particles and annoyed pedestrians that were shoved out of their way in their wake. A relieved sigh escaped her when she finally could let the held in breath go.

There were no smart guards in today's patrol, and she thanked Allah for such luck.

When she finally deemed it safe enough, the guards no longer visible, she let herself relax against the wall once again. Now she could proudly state that she survived another day in the vicious streets of the Poor District in Masyaf.

After reclining against the wall, she proceeded to take out the object that caused the whole situation to occur – a now squished loaf of bread that had been hidden inside her outer tunic in order to free her hands to grasp onto the ledge during her escape.

She stared hard onto the almost offending, not to mention limp, piece of loaf, her brow slowly titling downwards into a frown as her stormy grey eyes scrutinized it critically. She believed the loaf of bread almost wasn't worth all the trouble it had caused, that she almost regretted having set her sights on it.

The guards had called her thief when they saw her holding the loaf of bread in her hands, believing that she was stealing it but in reality she had just handed the baker the few coins she had managed to scrape together to buy it. Even though she was an actual thief, having been forced to become one in order to survive, she for once wanted to buy something rather than stealing it.

It made her feel normal. That she wasn't just the orphan living day by day on the streets, having her only homage in the roof gardens.

For once, she just wanted to feel like she had a good life than the miserable lowlife of a thief. And she wanted to atone for the times she had stolen from him, by paying for a loaf whenever the opportunity came.

But apparently it seemed as her wish simply wasn't meant to be, because the one day she chose to be like every other person, to actually be like them and buy herself a day's worth of food, she was accused for theft.

Her fate was predestined to be that of a thief's for the rest of her life.

The thought left a sad smile to form on her lips, the corners pulling only slightly upwards. She had her eyes downcast in thought, but then after a few moments quickly dismissed it all. There was no point in mulling over such thoughts, there was nothing to gain from them than wishful thinking. Instead, she thought back on how the whole situation started, analyzing what had gone wrong.

At the guards' out-of-nowhere sudden accusation towards her, proclaiming that she was a thief, she had turned her surprised eyes towards the baker that sold the bread, believing he would do the honorable deed of denying the guards' false acclamations. It would be a natural thing for a marketer to protect their customer, at least that's what she believed, or else the customers wouldn't come back to buy more, and they'd lose part of their business.

But to her horror this particular marketer and baker didn't seem to share her train of thought, for she discovered when looking upon his stony face that he would do no such thing, instead opting for simply letting the guards believe she was truly stealing the bread. Her eyes had filled with disbelief, which quickly shifted to anger instead at the display of his dishonesty - and not to mention downright greedy behavior.

As the anger swept through her body, awakened by the baker's actions, or rather lack thereof, she threw him one her best glares, and in the last second before he had clenched his beefy hand around the coins, she took them back, sweeping them away from the palm of his hand into her own before she proceeded with taking off at full speed when the guards started to close in on her position.

If she was going to be called a thief, even though she had paid for the loaf that time, and then only be repaid with nothing, she figured she might as well act the part. It didn't matter what she did anyhow, because the outcome would've been the same - it was just a matter of whether she would be coinless or not, in which the latter option sounded much more alluring, especially after the baker's ignorance towards the false proclamations. Vengeance felt good.

Brought back to present time, she looked down onto the loaf of bread in thought, contemplating whether she should eat it now or save it for later. Her stomach then rumbled at the thought of food, and the decision was made. Obviously her stomach called for dinner to be served.

But before she dug into her well-earned meal, she climbed the rest of the way up to the rooftop. The view would be much more pleasant, and she wouldn't have to worry about any stray individual looking up and spotting her sitting on the beam eating a piece of bread. They would probably just draw the same conclusion as everyone else, that she stole it, and then call for the guards. Leading them astray once today sufficed. She felt no need in having a repeat of today's events.

Upon reaching the top of the roof, a smile lit up her face and she immediately felt at ease. From the rooftops she could easily view big chunks of the city and the people distantly milling about on the streets. It was a calming sight, to see the world from above. It was as if she could simply escape her life for a while, no longer having to worry about how she would survive the following day and just embrace the spectacular view instead.

She let her eyes observe the rooftops from her position, gliding over the chimneys and wooden poles, until they landed on one of the roof gardens nearby. Glancing at the loaf in her hand, she decided that the closed off gardens would be the ultimate and prefect place to eat in peace and quiet and so she hopped over to the connecting roof before jogging over to the garden.

But on her trip there a shriek suddenly reached her ears, coming from the left. Her eyes widened upon hearing the feminine outcry, and she quickly rushed over to the edge of the roof, peering over it to search for the source of the shriek.

She found it soon enough – it was coming from one of the two women that were at the moment being harassed by city guards. The same city guards that had previously chased her. Her anger from before came rushing back, this time awakened by the injustice happening below her.

However, her anger was accompanied by a sense of guilt, because she was the one that had lead the guards to where the currently were, which meant she was the cause for the two women being harassed. Her brow crinkled, the frown on her face deepening. She would have to justify her actions.

She quickly climbed down the wall, using one of the nearby merchants' roof cloths to land on to soften the last bit of her climb as she jumped onto it before rolling onto the ground, her body creating a dust cloud on impact.

Her legs quickly rushed over to the three guards, ignoring the surprised yell of the merchant, her short but rapid strides eating the distance in between in huge bites as a plan started to formulate in her mind. The plan was to distract the guards, to make them recognize her so their attention would no longer be on the two girls but on her instead. That way, the two could escape and she would be left to deal with the guards.

Again.

The irony was undeniable.

It was a simple strategy that she had managed to think up but a very functional one as she grabbed ahold of the cloth of the middle guard, pulling him slightly backwards before kicking him in the tendon of one of his knees. She quickly pulled him the rest of the way down to the ground when his balance destabilized from her kick, and he landed on his hide with an 'oomph' on impact. The other two guards she just shoved forwards and they stumbled from her push, momentarily losing their footing.

Her lips slightly quirked upwards at finally being the one to harass the guards rather than it being the other way around. Opportune moments like these were rare, and so she relished in it as much as possible before it ended.

The two shoved guards soon regained their footing as the middle guard rose from his position on the ground. All three then turned towards their assailant, who was her, and she saw the recognition flash in their eyes when their eyes landed on her prone form.

One of her brows quirked upwards and she shrugged her shoulders at them before sending them a teasing lopsided smile.

"You got the wrong girl, guys." She said before once again taking off, brushing up dirt with the spin of her heels.

The guards, still stuck in their surprise, shook it off and quickly gathered their wits and bounded after her. One of the guards, she figured it was the middle one since he was the one that received the most embarrassment, yelled after her disappearing form;

"You won't escape us this time, peasant!"

What was unbeknownst to her though, as she ran away, leading the guards astray, was that the women she had rescued were courtesans of Mother Nasja'h, a famed woman, and owner of the Nightshade brothel, which was a renowned place that many men, and even a few women of Masyaf, knew of.

The elderly woman running the place had a kind heart, for her brothel wasn't just any brothel. The women working for her did so out of their free choice, even though the choice of being a slave or a courtesan wasn't exactly the definition of 'freedom', but the girls in the brothel were cared for, and if one of the women found a man to marry, she would be fully allowed to leave. That is, if there was another girl available to take her place at the time. If not, of course, they would have to wait until the opportunity showed, but at least the place wasn't as much a prison as most other brothels were.

The Nightshade brothel was simply special, in many more ways than one.

The girl who once again was being chased by the same guards from before, was having a bit of trouble in throwing the guards off by simply walking inside the milling crowds of the streets. She would have to be more inventive if she were to escape them a second time.

That moment soon came in the form of an alleyway, one she swiftly made her way into when she reached it. Her eyes quickly swept over the narrow area and they landed on a piles of stacked crates, most likely they belonged to the marketer that was standing at the other end of the narrow passage. Thinking that the marketer wouldn't mind, she jumped up onto the crates, climbing to the top before grasping onto the protruding rocks and heave herself up onto the wall. She scaled it with a little difficulty, having no help in either ledges or windows, the rocks the only support she had. But the distance up to the roof wasn't all too far up and she soon found herself on the top, panting from exertion.

The sound of the guards' yelling passed by her alley and continued on, as they were unknowing to the fact that she was on the rooftop and not running through the crowds.

She lie on the rooftop, her chest heaving up and down from the second escape of the guards. Her eyes were staring up into the cloudless sky, idly studying it. A small breeze then suddenly swept through, ruffling her clothing. Her skin shivered slightly at the contact of the cold breeze, the wavering warmth of her body reacting to the sudden cool air. Her grey eyes shifted slightly to the side as she saw something move in her peripherals. It turned out to be a bird that was occupying the sky, its gracious wings surfing on the air. Upon further scrutiny, she discovered that the bird wasn't just any bird – it was an Eagle.

She watched it soar over the skies, her eyes tracking its every movement.

The moment of peace shattered when she heard someone calling out into the crowd below. They were calling out for someone, and she idly wondered who. Her curiosity getting the better of her, she rose from her position and walked over to the edge of the roof, spying down onto the streets below. Her brow tilted upwards as her eyes widened. Below her were the two girls that she had saved.

And they were the ones that were calling out to the crowd.

"Has anyone seen a girl with brown hair, bearing a burgundy tunic? Have you, sir? Mother Nashwa is looking for her!" She heard one of them ask a stranger, who only shook his head and continued on his way. She frowned, for she had brown hair, and she was wearing a burgundy tunic. Why would they be looking for her? Rather, why would this Mother Nashwa, whoever it was, look for her?

She decided on approaching the two girls, for they would have the answers, and she climbed down from the roof, landing a little roughly next to a marketer's stand. He threw her a surprised glance, her sudden appearance from nowhere startling him. She smiled apologetically towards him before brushing off the dirt on her hands that had impacted with the earth packed floor, and she then jogged over to the two girls. Upon seeing her approaching form, the two girls smiled widely, immediately recognizing her and they rushed over to greet her.

At first she was startled, not having anticipated their… joyous reaction, but she returned their smile with her own, albeit not as wide, smile.

"There you are! We have been looking for you, come! Mother Nashwa wants to see you!" One of the girls barely finished speaking the words before both grabbed ahold of her wrists and started pulling her along, not giving her the chance to reply. Nor the chance of asking just who this 'mother' was.

'I think I will discover that soon enough, though.' She stated inside her mind to herself. They rapidly walked along the street, turning various corners before finally coming to a stop outside a towering building. It was painted green, with small golden details covering the walls, and it even had vines crawling up the sides of it. Surrounding the house was a lattice fence, suggesting that it probably had a garden of a sort on the backside.

The girls however, didn't give her much time to study the building, as they stormed over to the stairs, bringing her with them. She stumbled a few times, unable to gain her footing because the two girls almost manhandled her like a pair of ruffians, which was a bit surprising, since they were the courtesans, the complete opposite of a ruffian.

The girls then deposited her in the entrance of the brothel, the two giggling as they walked up a staircase to the right, most likely fetching this Mother Nasja'h. Not really knowing what to do, she just remained in the same place they left her. She let her gaze slowly sweep across the room, studying the interior with interest.

The brothel actually looked cozy. There were mats on the floor, paintings with landscape motifs on them decorating the walls… And they even had cushions stacked in piles on top of a wooden bench, or couch or whatever it was, she was quite unsure, but it had blankets hanging off of its sides, too. She was intrigued over the fact that it was so decorative, she had always assumed that brothels were rundown houses with scarce decorating and packed with women that lured men inside.

But, she supposed that last part was still true in some way, for the courtesans were definitely pretty enough to entice the men of Masyaf…

She ended the train of thought.

She shifted on her feet, idly wondering how Mother Nasja'h would look like. Was she as pretty as the two girls that brought her here? She blushed a little when she found that she actually thought the women were pretty.

She didn't have to keep her curiosity at bay for too long, because right at that moment a woman in a very pristine dress came down the stairs, the other two girls following closely behind the older lady. Her eyes went wide at the sight of the elder woman, and she threw her gaze down to the floor. It would be rude to stare at someone like she almost had done!

Instead she opted to fiddle with her fingers, not knowing what else to do.

She heard the ruffle of a dress moving, and in her peripherals, she noticed that Mother Nashwa had come to stand before her.

"So you are the girl that saved my two beautiful courtesans from the harassment of the city guards?"

She only nodded in reply, not trusting her voice to speak up without it faltering as she kept her eyes downcast onto the wooden floor boarding.

The elderly woman then clicked her tongue, and suddenly her chin was grasped and forced upwards. Her surprised grey eyes met the most brilliant blue eyes she had ever seen in her life, and a silent gasp left her. The woman looked so beautiful, and wise, with those blue eyes and curly hazel brown hair.

"Such a young girl… Stuck on the streets, forced to fend for oneself… It is so cruel." She heard Mother Nashwa whisper to herself. The elderly woman lifted both her hands and grasped the sides of her face, holding her in a tenderly fashion as if she was her own daughter.

"You are not entirely from here, are you, dear? Your cheekbones are rounded, and your skin is lighter. I'm thinking it was your mother who had these traits?" Mother Nashwa then gently asked. She couldn't muster up a reply, because she noticed how Mother Nashwa had used the past tense of the word 'has'. She solemnly knew that the woman had figured she was an orphan.

"What would you say – would you want to work for me? I'm in need of a little help around here, and from what my girls have told me, you are also quite well-versed with Masyaf's rooftops?" A glint in Mother Nashwa's eyes lit up, and her painted lips curved upwards into a sly smile.

"Would you like to run errands for me when I'm in need of it? And clean a few bedchambers every morning? In exchange, I will keep you fed and safely sheltered. I'm eternally grateful from keeping my girls out of trouble." Mother Nashwa continued, her kind eyes searching the depths of her own grey.

She had her own smile form on her lips at the offer, and she nodded fervently in reply.

"…Yes, I would… Thank you!" She murmured, her voice uncertain, for she was unsure if this was really happening.

She might have a place to call home.

"Well then, it is settled! Girls, show this young girl her room-oh, I forgot to ask! What is your name, dear?" The woman turned back to her, dress swishing with the motion as her head tilted in question.

She just smiled timidly before answering;

"Akiah, my name is Akiah."

That significant day marked the end of her days of having to live on the streets. She was finally given a home, somewhere to feel safe and protected, and most of all, cared for. Mother Nashwa became her adoptive mother, for she quickly found a strong friendship and bond with the elder woman.

She wouldn't have to live day by day anymore, and she smiled in relief.

For the past nine months she did what Mother Nashwa had asked of her; she ran the woman's errands for her, delivering letters and small objects to her contacts, all varying from simple trinkets to daggers. Although Akiah never questioned why she had to deliver daggers to some of her clients, she at times found herself idly wondering about it anyway.

Not to mention that during all those months of living with Mother Nashwa, she had sometimes seen strange people come into the brothel, some of them even dropping in through the roof than using the regular doorway. They carried peculiar white-clothed robes, with red sashes and leather belts wrapped around their middle. Akiah found the garments intriguing, for they were definitely odd.

But the most interesting about the strange people, were that they all bore peaked hoods that shrouded their identity from view.

She had asked Mother Nashwa about them, believing that they were special clients of sort, but each time Akiah had asked, the woman refused to tell her. Until recently, that is. Half a month back, the elderly woman finally gave in to her questioning and told her of the secrecy of the Nightshade brothel - Of why the strange white-clad hooded people came through into the brothel at the oddest times in the oddest ways.

The brothel was associated with a Creed, the Assassin's Creed. The woman explained that it's a secret Brotherhood, one who fights against enemies called Templars. Akiah understood that they were the reason why the guards were so corrupt and why Masyaf was in a state of chaos.

It was because of the Templars, people that were set on changing the world just to suit their own benefits.

A hate immediately settled within her towards the Templars. She had firsthand seen the cruelty of that Order. She remembered vividly of what the guards of the city were up to when the city people weren't looking.

The Assassin's Creed however, was a whole other story. She was captivated by the Creed, the Order intriguing her already from the beginning. Her interest developed over time when she spotted the white-robed men on other places than at the brothel. They too used the rooftops as a mean of travel, just like her.

On the days when she wasn't busy, she would sneak up as close as she dared to the Creed's mansion, which wasn't located too far from the Nightshade brothel, her eyes simply observing and studying the stronghold from afar. It was one of her favourite pastimes, to watch the Assassins return or leave for missions, some walking through its massive gates while others opted for jumping the rooftops and then scale the wall only to disappear from sight. From her many hours of just watching and observing, she now knew of the many different ways of entrance into the fortress.

She had even managed to peg down which Assassin preferred which entrance.

Of course, she couldn't be careless when she was observing the Creed. If she were, a dagger would most likely come flying her way. The Creed probably didn't take kindly on spies, but since she was a young woman, merely 17, their attention wasn't all too drawn towards her, and they let her be.

Akiah knew that they knew that she was observing them from the nearby watch tower.

They were after all Assassins.

During the beginnings of her watching the Brotherhood, she only saw them as a whole, the Assassins, but as the days passed she took notice of how their garments differed. It was simple things really, varying from either a short red sash, a simple leather belt or fewer weapons on their persons. Even the peak on some of the Assassins' hoods were different, some carrying far less detail than others. It was also those with fewer weapons that had the less intricate designs on their clothing. Inwardly she wondered why it was like that.

Every time she had a question about the Creed, which was actually quite often, unfortunately for Mother Nashwa, she had asked her adoptive mother for answers. And so she asked her why their garments differed.

At first though when she had started asking questions, she had received a scolding for being so near the gates of their mansion. She was trespassing on their property, and she wasn't showing them the respect they deserved by keeping her distance, Nashwa had said. But Akiah couldn't just lay down her interest towards the Creed, so she kept asking the elderly woman, pestering her with the same questions over and over.

The woman then got enough of her invading questioning and decided to finally let her in on why. However she hadn't done so without a warning.

"You better be able to handle the consequences, Akiah, because if you know too much about the Creed, you will become a liability. They do not take kindly to strangers knowing much about them, if at all. I am only telling you this because I know you will keep your mouth shut, and that I have had enough of your endless pestering!"

Akiah remembered the words fondly, and a small smile curved the tips of her lips. She knew Mother Nashwa had tried to throw her off her interest when she said she might become too much of a liability, however, the tactic of hers hadn't worked because she was still found observing the mansion from her usual spot on one of Masyaf's highest towers that was closest to the Creed's stronghold.

Now that she knew that the difference in their garments told of what rank each Assassin had, she started singling them out, placing them under different categories; Novice, Adequate, Skilled.

However, there was one that she simply couldn't place in any of the categories, and she had no choice but to place him in the Unknown category. There was only one Assassin she had seen that carried such intricate and unique clothing, in contrast to his other brothers.

He was different, Akiah thought. He stood out from the crowds of the other Assassins.

She often found herself dwelling on who he was, and why he was so… peculiar. Why he was so distinctive compared to the others. But she never found an answer, no matter how many times she tried to figure it out.

The only thing Akiah knew… Was that she was officially taken by him. He had unknowingly captured her interest.

He was just so alluring. He was a mystery, a question, one that she was going to figure out one day. She was going to figure out him. Why he was so enchanting, because really, some days it was just aggravating, having to watch him from a distance, never able to come any closer to unravel the mysteriousness. Or the fact that he just was so different - not to mention deceptive. Each and every time he entered the mansion differently. He never used the same entrance twice in a row, and neither did he follow a specific pattern. No other Assassin of the Creed had the behavior that he had.

She was taken out of her dwellings about the Creed and the mysterious Assassin when Mother Nashwa snapped her fingers in front of her, demanding her attention.

"Akiah! I have an errand for you to run for me today, on behalf of one of the Assassins. I know I have asked you only a handful times before, but will you be their informant for today? This letter here," she waved it in front of Akiah with her hand to pinpoint that she was referring to it before continuing, "-is from them and it is to be brought to a man named Faher. The letter is very important, the guards nor anyone else is to get their hands on it. Do you think you can do this confidently?" Mother Nashwa asked, her stern gaze meeting her own grey orbs.

"Yes, I can do it, I promise. I won't lose the letter. But if I may ask, Mother Nashwa, why do they want me to bring the letter to Faher if it's so important? Don't they have birds or the Assassins to do it for them?" There was a pause before the woman answered her question, then;

"They have their reasons. What they need is subtlety. If they send a bird the chance that it gets shot down is too great, while if they send an Assassin, it becomes obvious that the letter is important. They asked me if you were capable enough to perform this task, for it is very different compared to the other menial tasks they otherwise ask of you, however I have full faith in that you are. Do not prove me, or them, wrong, Akiah." Nashwa said. The woman then embraced her before shooing her off.

"Now, off you go! I have business that needs to be taken care off." The elderly woman said before she rose from her kneeling position as she clasped her hands together. Akiah smiled and then waved her goodbye before she herself rose and stepped outside.

She made an immediate left turn to where a ladder was placed, it leading up to the roof. She always took the path up to the roof this way if she was at the brothel. It was simply an easy and effective way. She wouldn't have to worry about any onlookers if she were to climb up, because it was off to the corner where no one usually looked.

She made quick work of the ladder, reaching the rooftop before proceeding to jog over to the next roof. She headed north, having to circle around the Poor District to reach the Middle District where Faher lived. He was living at the edge of the District too, and reaching his house via the rooftops was difficult were she to head strictly east. Mother Nashwa had informed her that he also had the Assassin Insignia etched into his house, which would make it easy for her to spot if she mapped the area from a nearby high tower. The Insignia was placed on the roof for safety reasons, no one would know of it unless they saw it from high altitude. Not even patrolling guards knew of its existence because they were never so far up.

The Creed had its devious ways.

Idly Akiah wondered to herself why his house had the Creed's Insignia on it. There was no other house besides the fortress that had the Insignia, for she had never seen one on her adventures across Masyaf's rooftops, which have been plenty.

'Maybe he is someone important to the Creed?' She thought further, her foot connecting with a ledge before she jumped to the connecting roof. It would make sense.

But then again, why couldn't any other Assassin drop the letter off? It did have the Insignia after all, and Faher might just see her as a threat if she were to come close. There was the chance he would draw a blade on her if she came unannounced without anything signifying her alliance to the Creed besides the letter. He might think she was a thief that stole it and conveniently knew where he lived.

She pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind, not wanting to think any more on the matter. She decidedly ignored the humming question of why and proceeded to jump another rooftop, grasping the edge and pulling herself up over it before rising and continuing her trip to Faher.

She came to a stop as she reached a roof that had too much distance to simply hop over. She glanced down towards the streets, watching the people shuffle through the crowds, going about their own business and picking up food or buying trinkets from the travel merchants. Her eyes then spotted something familiar, a thief, whom she even recognized from her thieving days, and he was at this very moment pickpocketing a poor pedestrian. He went by unnoticed, his hands now holding a newly acquired coin pouch, and Akiah smiled widely. She herself had once done what he did. It was quite a sight to see from another perspective the work of a thief and the process of stealing from the townsfolk.

She watched on for a few more moments before she let her eyes sweep around the area, further taking in her surroundings. She was looking for a familiar wooden ledge that she had used a couple times before to cross the gap and upon finding it, her smile widened.

'There you are, my beloved wooden ledge.' Ironically, it was the same ledge she had escaped up onto when the guards had been chasing her nine months and a week ago. That she would come to use it for another reason than just huddling on it to hide was an irony that certainly wasn't lost on her. Rather, she almost laughed at the whole predicament. The tides had definitely changed when she rescued the two courtesans, who she now knew by name were Lilliana and Gwyneth. They were her two best friends back at the Nightshade brothel. They were close to her age as well, Lilliana being 19 and Gwyneth 22. She herself was at the age of 17, so there wasn't too big of an age gap. Either way, their friendship was strong, and she saw them more as her two sisters than her best friends.

She moved over to the ledge and jumped onto it from the edge of the roof, her feet landing onto it with a dull thud before walking across it. She grabbed onto the alcove situated shorty above her height and pulled herself up to it. She quickly scaled the rest of the wall, pushing off from the last stepping stone that sat etched into the wall and clamber over the edge.

However, just as she rose from her position and dusted herself off and glanced back behind her, her eyes caught the blur of something eerily familiar, the blur bearing white clothing.

Wait, white clothing?

Her eyes widened at the newly discovered anomaly and a zing of fear shot up her spine. Why was there an Assassin in the Middle District, not to mention nearby her?

She tried putting it off that the Assassin was just heading in her direction for one of his own missions, but that thought quickly dissipated when the Assassin continued his path straight towards her.

According to his body language, he seemed to have no plans of changing direction, and with each passing second, his quick moving form wasn't stopping or diverting from its path towards her. In reaction to the observation, her heart started beating rapidly and she snapped her head back to her front, her feet digging up dirt and sand as they picked up pace. She bounded over to the connected rooftop and flew over it, taking the two meter jump almost with ease. She was running in a much faster pace than before, as if a fire was lit under her feet. It felt as so, because having a trained Assassin following after wasn't the best feeling in the world - in fact, it was quite terrifying because they were dangerous, and extremely deadly.

And now she was being pursued by one.

It was just her luck.

Her breaths were inhaled and exhaled just as quickly, her chest pounding from the beating of her heart. She didn't dare to look back to see where the Assassin was at, for if she did, she would most likely be caught.

Akiah turned to the left, deciding on trying to feint him by jumping from out of view. Hopefully he would think she jumped to the ledge beneath when in fact she just jumped right into the crowd of walking pedestrians. Her burgundy hood was up, so the Assassin wouldn't be able to identify her by her hair, the wavy brown locks hidden completely from view.

She landed with an 'oomph' on the dirt-packed floor and she slowed her pace to that of the by passers, mixing in with the crowd. She turned to the closest alleyway in the hope of finally having shaken him off but just as she turned the corner, she clashed into something solid and she landed on her hide from the surprise impact, a groan escaping her mouth.

The letter in her outer tunic fell to the floor unnoticed, and the thing she crashed into suddenly made a noise, a hoarse and evil sounding noise, which had her quickly snapping her eyes open, them having shut with the fall. The solid object she had crashed into was a man, dressed in thick robes with a black sash tied around his middle. But the most alarming about the whole picture was the knife he held in his right hand, his other hand occupied with holding the letter.

Her letter.

She was going to need that back, but she didn't know how. How was she supposed to fight someone holding a knife at her? She had no weapons to counter with, and even if she did, how was she supposed to use it?

She swallowed the quickly forming lump in her throat, trying to calm down her heart and shake off the feelings of fear and despair.

The hoarse evil cackling sounded once again, and Akiah inwardly winced at the horrifying sound. It was as if someone was dying from huge amounts of pain rather than someone laughing.

'Horrid.' She thought, a grimace contorting her facial futures.

"Thanks for the letter, dearie! I would say you can be off now, but no, sadly not. I'm not done with my business yet, witch unfortunately for you, dearie, includes you!" The man suddenly spoke, and his voice was just like his laugh – twisted and ugly and just outward dying.

But she wasn't focused on that. Her mind was mulling over the words he had uttered, and from what she could recall through the veil of fear clouding her mind, was that he had business with her personally, and not just the letter.

It didn't bode well. She wished desperately that she was caught by the Assassin instead of this… creep that was standing before her.

'Please, can't that Assassin show up? I hope you saw through my trick, please, please…' She pleaded inwardly as she rose from her position on the floor, her feet backing away a couple of steps from the rather insane man. She was still going to need that letter back to deliver to Fahed. Her eyes observed her surroundings, trying to find something she could use as a weapon. Her eyes landed on a stone, almost as big as her fist, and she quickly picked it up, holding it poised. The man before her lifted his eyebrows when seeing her picking up the stone, and he had a toothy grin stretched across his twisted facial futures.

"Well well, seems the little girl is going to try to fight me. Hush, there's no need for that. I will simply relieve Nasja'h of her burden, and terminate you. Doesn't that sound like a good plan? It does to me, dearie!" He cackled. Akiah however, was completely taken by surprise when he mentioned Mother Nasja'h. Did he know of her job? How? How did he knew of her errands?

Apparently, those questions had been written across her face, because the man soon spoke once again.

"Oh dearie, of course I know about your little job, of how you run those errands for the old and withering whore. I even know of your meddling Assassin friends. Hidden as they say they are, they cannot escape my sight! I see and know everything, knowledge is power, don't you know?" His inane wording threw Akiah off, and she had no clue how to comprehend the whole situation. This… this man knew of everything, about the Nightshade's hidden cooperation with the Creed, and what they did.

It was scary of how he knew, for in her mind, he only looked like a raving mad lunatic, someone incapable of such knowledge.

"How-How do you know?" She questioned, even though she knew it was better to keep her mouth shut. But she had to ask, if only to distract him so she could throw the stone and hit him in his sacred place…

"How I know, little girl? A magician never reveals his tricks, so I shan't do so myself. Now, enough chit-chatting!" He suddenly came at her with his knife and she quickly ducked out of the way, throwing herself against one of the alley walls, pressing herself against it as the man stumbled from his miss. She saw the opportunity to whack her stone, and she hit him in the back. He let out a grunt and almost lost his balance, something she had desperately hoped for, however he managed to catch himself just in time. Now completely weaponless, Akiah could only stumble backwards, her eyes full of terror.

"End is close for you, dearie!" The madman hissed, his crooked smile and narrowed eyes staring right at her.

Just as she was thinking she was done for, a flash of white suddenly descended from above, landing right on top of the insane man. She could hear the crack of bone and then a gurgle, and she knew he was most likely dead, or dying. She slightly winced at the sounds.

Her panicked heart started to settle down now that the madman was dead, although her breathing was still erratic, the breaths coming out rapidly. The white-robed stranger before her rose from his hunched over position over the man and then slowly turned towards her.

Akiah's next breath never came through because she hitched on it, the air only reach halfway through her throat. The man before her, was none other but the Assassin she had only seen less than handful of times. She could even count them on a five digit hand. Nevertheless, it was him.

Her eyes took in his decorative garbs; the large red sash wound around his middle, complied with a highly intricate leather belt with a sword's sheath hanging off of it. She saw the wide array of weaponry on his form, the throwing knives, the short sword. Her eyes wandered up to his hooded face, and she noticed how even the peak of his hood too was highly decorated with intricate patterns, just like his leather belt. However, she couldn't take in much of his facial futures, for he was shrouded within the shadows. And his hood helped keeping his identity a secret. The only thing she could see for sure was the straight bridge of his nose, his stern mouth, which had a white scar running across it on his right side, and his strong chin.

Submerged in the shadows, he gave off an aura of danger, tipped with a secretive and ominous vibe. She certainly was feeling on-edge within his presence. He was as mysterious as she sought him out to be, and he held himself with an air of authority. She swallowed carefully, her back straightening from her half-crouch. Her eyes glanced behind him, trying to spot the letter before her eyes quickly settled on him once again, not wanting to let him out of her sight. Even though the brothel that was her home worked for the Assassins, she rarely ever came into contact with one, and if she did, it was only for short moments. She had never actually been this close, especially not to someone as deadly as him.

She had to force away the feeling of wanting to flee. To her, he was predator, and she was nothing but his prey, standing in the way.

She kept her alert eyes trained on him, and so when he slowly brought his hand up, she instinctively flinched back, slightly started. The motion of his hand came to a stop, as if he was determining whether or not she would just jump the wall then and there and be gone if he continued his movement, however whatever his thoughts were, they seemed to be disregarded as he continued to move his hand once again, it coming to a stop when fully outstretched. It wasn't until then that she saw he was holding the yellow letter in his hand, and she felt a strong urge to slap herself for not seeing it earlier. He probably thought her a halfwit now.

The worst first impression that could ever be made. Especially to him, who she almost begrudgingly found a certain interest in. She didn't exactly understand why, but something about him intrigued her. Perhaps it was his uniqueness, or the fact that he was so deadly that it pulled her in, wanting to test his limits.

Anyone would find her a fully-fledged dimwit for wanting to provoke an Assassin, but the danger of life was something she had grown up and lived with for a big part of her life. Maybe she for once wanted to know where the limits went, and those could only be tested by going up against dangerous things, dangerous and deadly, just like the Assassin before her.

She brought a cautious hand forward, grabbing ahold of the corner of the letter, and when he deemed her having a good grip on it, he let go.

She brought the letter close to her, pressing it to her chest as her eyes searched for his, even though they were shrouded and hidden from view of his hood. She felt that she had to say something, anything, for she surprisingly didn't want him to go. She found herself wanting to meet him again.

"What-what is your name?" She whispered, not daring to speak louder, fearing that others would hear, or that he would simply turn and leave if he thought she was trying to befriend him.

Which she probably was trying to do, in a way.

But her question was only met with silence, the Assassin before her remaining silent, and her gaze turned disappointed. She shifted her eyes away from him to the dirt floor, a silent sigh escaping her. Of course he wouldn't answer her.

But after a moment's silence, she noticed movement in her peripherals. She saw the white-garbed Assassin reach for something behind his belt, and when he found it and plucked it out, her eyes widened. He was holding the feather of an Eagle, its coloring pure white, just like his robes.

It brought forth a long forgotten memory, one she had thought would forever stay lost.

She saw a feather delicately float through the air, it landing just below her feet. She slowly crouched down, afraid of stirring the air and it'd blow away. Her small hand reached out and picked the intricate feather up, its white surface speckled with flecks of brown. She had run all the way home, the feather clasped tightly in her hand, and barged through the door, calling out to her Father.

"Father, Father! Look what I found!" She took the steps two and two before turning to the right, hastily running into her Father's study.

"Easy, child, what is it?" His deep baritone voice called for calmness, and her excited jumping slowly diminished, soon enough coming to a stop.

"A feather, Father, it looks so beautiful!" Her Father had then waved her over, and she quickly walked to his hunched over form at his desk, bringing the feather out for him to look at. She saw a smile slowly form onto his lips when he picked the feather up, lifting it up into the sunlight as he inspected it carefully.

"Your life has been blessed with luck, child, for this is no ordinary feather. This feather comes from an Eagle, a strong and proud bird of prey. Keep it with you, Akiah, it may become important one day." He had said. She didn't understand the riddle of words he gave as a reply, and so she asked further, rather blatantly too, why it would give her luck, opting for the simplified version, her young mind not truly comprehending his words as they were.

"But father, how does it give me luck? It is only a feather?" Her father had then chuckled, a rueful smile gracing his lips as his grey eyes crinkled.

"Ah but luck takes on many different forms, Akiah. It may be just a feather, but the feather itself comes from an Eagle. An Eagle might come and fend or warn off any danger coming your way one day. It is a matter of how you perceive things, dear. They may not always be what they seem to be."

'Luck takes on many different forms….' She thought, and her brow slightly tilted downwards, her eyes slowly shifting over to the Assassin before her. His words were starting to make at least somewhat sense, for she seemed to be onto something, however she still had a long way to go to truly come to an understanding on what her Father had meant.

The feather the Assassin had brought forth was held towards her, the tip pointed in her direction. Her eyes went up to his, even though they were hidden beneath the peak of his hood. She silently asked just with her gaze if the feather was really meant for her, and upon seeing a small nod of his head, it indicated towards the feather, she reached out and took the feather within her grasp. She repeated the same motion that she had with the letter, as she carefully clasped it to her chest.

The Assassin then took a step back, and she took it as her queue to leave. Just as him, she had her own mission to complete. She stashed both the feather and the letter within her outer tunic, and she turned to the wall next to her. There was a stepping-stone sticking out, and she used it as leverage to heave herself on top of the alley wall before scaling the rest of the wall up to the roof, all the while the Assassin watched on, his hooded gaze curious. One of his brows arched upwards, intrigued of how the girl scaled the wall just like he and his brothers. Never mind that she was a woman, too. However, he soon disappeared as well, continuing on with his own mission, the alley now empty of its two occupants.

She would never come to know that the feather would hold so much value until fate played its course, nor that her Father's words were much more important than she originally believed them to be.