Music Inspiration: David Chappell- "Spirit of Adventure"

Misfits of the Wild

Bethulie, South Africa

Vivian was once again foraging and preparing another load of laundry with her daily chores. With the assassins focusing on their path to the west, they needed to dedicate their time to finding the right site and avoiding detours. With the land being largely unexplored, it was downright dangerous for them if they became lost, met hostile indigenous tribes or wildlife. They had yet to find villages as they kept to the interior since they needed to cut across it to save time rather than play it safe and travel longer alongside the coast. Every night, she went to bed in her tent with the hope that nothing would slip inside and bite or maul her. During the day, she prayed the same thing didn't happen while on foot so the stress level never decreased. After their chartered boat south to Durban, they had been instructed by the natives at the port to travel west by finding the Orange River. It had reminded the original trio of their travel south on the Nile River towards Lake Victoria.

As she folded the white tunic of Altaïr's robes, she heard crinkling and her eyebrow rose in curiosity. She didn't want to accidentally fold something of importance or destroy paper in water and fall into an argument later so she fished for it. Just as she guessed, a small crinkled piece of parchment had been tucked inside and she blinked to the contents on it.

Her.

She would've thought Maria at first glance due to the mop of black hair (colored with charcoal) but it was her wavy unruly locks staring back. Maria's face tended to be rounder, giving her a very youthful appearance while hers was oval. In afterthought, she ran one hand through her unbrushed hair in an attempt to appear different from the picture. It stirred a flutter in her heart she wasn't ready to acknowledge again. There was no denying the woman in the sketch was her as even the attire resembled her old black robes from Egypt before the canoe incident.

A sense of deja vu fell over her since she'd walked into a similar situation with Altaïr back in Lake Victoria. This time, however, she was seeing herself in small hand drawn images. It was . . . his artwork had vastly improved since she'd last seen it and wondered if he'd been practicing at Masyaf. The gesture to being the subject was touching and she had no doubt he'd spent time on it.

Not wanting to ruin it during her daily chores, she waved the scrap of paper towards its artist as he scribbled in his journal in the middle of camp. Beside him were Malik and Bashir as they analyzed maps that lacked heavy detail on the African continent. Most of it was largely unexplored and being the first in their Order to set foot there, they had to ensure the trip was safe for future generations. For the moment, they used the Orange River as their guide and Malik would sketch the geographical area for reference. With the wet season near its end, the river was full which allowed them to cool often and fish for food when they needed it. Altaïr refused to take another canoe again after the fiasco of the Nile River so they trekked on foot. Their camels had been traded back at the mouth of the river to ensure the animals weren't lost on their new journey and because they were unsure what awaited them on the other side in terms of trading folk.

Her random waving caused the group to blink at her odd behavior, looking behind them in expectation to uninvited guests. When nobody was there, Vivian's shoulders slumped at drawing everyone's attention instead. That was no good. She liked being the little ladybug few people noticed and pointed to their ringleader to request, "Might I have a second, Altaïr?"

Altaïr never denied her requests nowadays and quickly excused himself from the group. Dusting off his robes as he approached her, she held the folded paper between two fingers and held it up to state, "I found something of yours that drew my interest."

Retreating to the farthest tent away from the group, she handed him the folded paper quietly. He opened the indented paper with its crinkled edges to reveal his recent sketch of Vivian. A pause in his hand movement were the only acknowledgement he gave of having his artwork discovered. His eyes and face betrayed nothing. Altaïr quickly reminded himself to find better hiding spots before his subjects goaded him with criticism. Vivian had been gentle with her opinions when he'd practiced alongside her and her face only showed curiosity.

"You drew me. . .why?" she asked softly with confusion and watched him tuck away the drawing into the leather portion of his right gauntlet. Well, he certainly didn't lack hiding spots.

"I didn't want to forget your face while I was home" he explained truthfully as the lonely days without his partner were dreadful for him. He'd experienced what it would be like to live life alone without her at his side and he wanted none of it. She was in his dream of a happy home and he wanted her etched into a physical sketch as a reminder. His eyes scanned over her oval face, loving each wavy lock that was out of place as she worked on her chores, and he admitted, "Time tends to blur features and I didn't know whether you were still in our time. Life would not be the same without you . . . I wanted a reminder to keep with me."

His honesty was touching but he was delving into something unnatural by focusing attention to her. She couldn't offer what he wanted as every happy moment sent their way always shattered like glass. As painful as it would be, correcting his path was the right route in her mind now. His words plucked the strings in her heart reserved only for him when he uttered, "You will always be a part of me, Vivian. Time may take away specific features of your appearance but what you represent, your core values, and personality will transcend that. . .and they will remain with me."

"Seeing as I disappointed Hermes, you'll be seeing me for quite a while" she sighed despondently as her shoulders slumped to the cost of her decision. Her hope had been to tell Altaïr about the baby but she had a cottonmouth every time she gazed at him. Their mission had also taken priority over everything else and staying had backfired horribly. Quietly, she admitted under her breath, "There are times I regret staying here but I hope what I can add to this mission will outweigh those second thoughts."

He understood how easily dark thoughts could cloud the tiny glimmers of hope in one's life and reasoned, "Vivian, losing our child-"

"I didn't want to leave with that guilt of lying to you" she sighed softly and rubbed her forehead as that single moment always replayed in her mind. It had taken her time with his help to work through her grief since there had been days all she thought about were her choices. Now, it merely lingered in the back of her mind but the aftermath left her with a different outlook, "I take full responsibility for that choice but for us to continue on this journey, you can't harbor whatever it is you feel for me-"

"I care about you, plain and simple" he interjected easily without hesitance and although the fangirl in her jumped for joy, the logical woman didn't. Both were resistant to releasing their reasoning as she returned to her old mindset while he wanted to carve his own road. He wasn't hesitant in being direct with her when it came to their feelings and pointed out firmly, "You keep yourself out of reach but there is nobody else that I will be grasping for. I've made it quite clear on where Maria stands in my life in comparison to you."

She shook her head vehemently to that choice and insisted, "You have to reconcile for your future and Darim's sake-"

"And what about Ilias? Is she supposed to cast him aside like nothing?" he demanded sharply because his friend deserved the same respect and Maria had begun to show affection with him. Altaïr didn't feel the old flame in his heart when he saw her or the awkward flickers of nervousness when they spoke privately. Those actions were now reserved for Vivian alone after leaving Lake Victoria and he didn't plan on ending them anytime soon. He acknowledged her worry but finalized his choice regarding all of them with a firm tone, "He deserves a chance like I did and you do as well. I admit I've been annoyed at times for your stubbornness to avoid all of this but I reluctantly accept and respect your choice."

His respect for her was what held him back from embracing the one he loved but she'd raised that invisible wall again. He understood it was out of fear and concern for him more than anything else but he would have to break it one step at a time. His last days with her before the trip to Masyaf had been the best out of their unofficial partnership and he sought to return to that. If there was nothing there, neither would've felt as devastated as they had been at losing their child.

Vivian nodded quietly since she was never one to drive an easy bargain. She wanted to avoid the topic of their odd relationship altogether and reminded gently, "I can't have any evidence of my presence here so you will have to destroy them one day."

Altaïr didn't want to part from his handiwork, especially in turbulent times when they could be separated again by distance or worse. His face betrayed none of the internal reluctance and Vivian shook her head to stop herself from sounding prudish, complimenting him, "But . . . thank you for taking the time to do this and thinking of me. Your hand has increased in talent."

"Malik helped me improve a lot and I practiced at Masyaf" he admitted simply but was happy to hear she approved of his work. Gone were the thin chicken scratches that he started off with before the trip and he continued to practice every day. Well, when he had paper at his disposal, anyway. He wanted to be able to design his ideas privately on his own so he could modify them without having to depend on his friends. As a leader, he had to chisel and hone every skill at his disposal.

Drawing his foot over the tracks she'd made to smooth down the earth, he promised with a faint smile to his skills, "Nobody will know of you in this world, Vivian. I will make sure of it."

"No using the POE's of doom to blast people's memories" she chastised gently as she brought light humor to the situation. Trickles of her old personality were returning each day and he coaxed it out of her whenever he could to help. The silly adventurous Vivian was the one he fell in love with but he respected her healing time. Grieving had no expiration date and he would be there to offer whatever he had at his disposal to help her. He feigned an insulted scoff, causing her smile to widen instantly, and she spoke softly, "I will trust your judgment on this."

"Your loyalty deserves a place, even if I have to write it on the top of a bookcase somewhere secret in Masyaf one day" he chuckled softly to his knack of respecting only those who earned that right and she smiled modestly since books were her fancy. Although he'd initially insulted her intelligence and random facts of world history, he wanted a smart woman at his side. He could already imagine reading a book at her side back home, muttering complaints about either the plot or writing structure, while she simply let him prattle on. He took the forward move of brushing her wispy bangs aside to clear her face and complimented, "Your eyes have always been my best memory of you."

"As are yours . . . and the kitten whiskers" she smiled impishly and he enjoyed seeing the witty banter return to her attitude. The more he could draw it out, the far better it would lighten her worries. Her old playful mood balanced out his tenacious nature to tackle every problem in the world and his toned down her energetic frenzies as well. His own mood brightened when she motioned to his lower face and teased gently, "Have you actually tried growing it out?"

"It grows out unevenly in patches, except on my lower jaw" he answered distastefully to his annoying facial hair and absentmindedly rubbed his jaw. Vivian was the only to actually compliment his facial structure but even she noticed his particularity with shaving. His honey-toned gaze met hers with light amusement and he asked nonchalantly, "Are you asking me to?"

She had to tread carefully around Altaïr to prevent anything romantic but he made it incredibly hard with every light graze to her skin. They were on uncertain ground and Vivian was unsure how to even proceed after everything they'd been through. One thing was for certain though: he'd always be her friend. His handsome cocky smirk didn't help matters at all and she teased gently, "You could always use charcoal and other pigments to fake a beard like I did until it grows evenly."

He waved a dismissive hand to the aesthetics of beauty and remarked bluntly, "It's too much maintenance for my taste. I'd rather have one when I'm old and nobody cares one bit about my appearance."

She laughed softly because she wanted him to see that age one day and chuckled, "Well, I will say this: you put the ass on assassin for millions worldwide so you're good."

He smirked to that compliment since he wore numerous layers of clothing but he was pleased to hear her approval. Sticking to the shadows like a specter left him faceless to all civilians and those of his order usually steered out of his way. It had taken numerous tries of Vivian removing his hood inside their tent for him to finally feel comfortable enough without it in her presence. The nights had become quiet without her rambunctious laughter that had accompanied them for the past year. The eerie silence in camp was not befitting of her at all.

Altaïr decided to run with his sudden streak of boldness and smiled at her to offer, "Would you accompany me in a little stargazing later tonight?"

"Whoever pinpoints Altaïr will earn a second helping of lentils?" she bargained playfully and he extended his hand to seal their bet. She didn't decline, slipping her right hand into his left to squeeze it firmly with a bashful smile. They hadn't placed bets in a very long while and although she lost the majority of them, it didn't put a hamper on their fun together. Despite the trauma they endured, their friendship came first and those bonds were hard to sever.

He could see that old cheer returning fully now, day by day, and was glad to see the old Vivian he knew.

Kakamas, South Africa

Their travel westward alongside the river led them to denser forests alongside the edge. There were cliffs and mountains overlooking the river as well but they were too dangerous to camp at due to the open landscape and vulnerability to the harsh elements. Altaïr was thankful that the climate was not as suffocating as Madagascar as the dry hot air reminded him of home during the early summer. It was bearable when they needed to cut down branches but the forests allowed them passage unlike those on the island. True, the open spaces also left them more open to predators but it gave them time to react if it happened.

The quartet had enough space for their camp setup and managed to raise two tents every night. Altaïr had raised a fuss after a few weeks when three men to a tent had become cramped for the six-foot man while Vivian had a whole tent to herself. When she jokingly asked Malik to be her tent buddy, the dai accepted. Altaïr was none too happy when she actually helped him move his sleeping bag since that should've been his automatic spot. Vivian, of course, reasoned that being stuck between a grumpy assassin and a nervous scientist all night would make anyone crazy and took pity on Malik. The dai had happily laughed at no longer being the one losing sleep at the hands of the two.

This arrangement lasted only a week before Altaïr gave up his spot in the tent and secretly switched out the bedding. While everyone completed their chores throughout the forest, he completed his sneaky plan and would await the reaction. For now, he would simply finish washing his dinnerware with a carefree attitude.

He felt a sudden prick to his left shoulder as he dried his metal cup with a brown washcloth. Turning immediately to find the perpetrator, he found Vivian standing behind him with twigs in her hands. Had she chucked a twig at his shoulder?

"Stick battle?" she smiled brightly and twirled the long twig in her hand like a sword. It humored him since she would've dropped it on the first flick of her wrist years ago. His face, however, was completely stoic as he glanced at her with mild apathy to rile her even more. He wanted to draw out the lively side of her and it worked when she waved her stick to encourage, "Come on, live a little."

Standing up, he held out his hand to accept and Vivian handed over her twig. Fishing through the pile of gathered kindling under her other arm, she found a new stick for herself with a proud smile. He liked the sudden spunk that had risen in her after failing to see much of it upon his return. Setting his cup down on a nearby log, he pushed her stick aside playfully with his and suggested smugly, "I think a real sword fight would be better."

"I've told you many times swords and I are not meant to be friends" she emphasized with a shake of her head and a frown because sharp blades were not her buddies. She was fine with a small knife and preferred weapons that held blades far from her person. It's why she loved her halberd- nobody's eyes but her enemy's could be poked out. She waved her twig diagonally in a sweeping motion and stepped forward to tease, "On guard, assassin."

Bashir, who had been watching the two across camp, turned to Malik as he nibbled on bread and asked, "Is that wise?"

The dai shrugged nonchalantly, not even bothering to look up from one of his books, and replied flatly, "I've seen worse, they'll live. Broken pride is easier to mend than a limb."

Vivian flicked her twig against his as she used the defensive positions he taught her. Unfortunately, he had trained her to use long-range weapons rather than swords which required close combat. All it took from his end was an upward sweep of his, sidestepping next to her to run his twig along her left flank, raise it quickly to run it across the same shoulder, and poked the center of her back. Her twig only managed to swipe over his right side by the time he finished.

Her face fell at realizing he'd practically annihilated her in less than five seconds and his amused gaze met hers. She caught a smile in the darkness as he declared easily, "I win, little badger."

"Aw, shucks" she pouted humorously in defeat but expected no less from a talented swordsman. He was the best in his order and Vivian hoped it would stay that way for decades to come. Years ago, he'd thrown objects anytime she dared to ask for help and had chased her away into her tent. Adding her twig to the bundle, she offered a friendly smile and joked, "Well, at least I can say I held my own for two seconds against the great Altaïr."

He handed her the stick without saying anything, keeping his behavior minimal regarding his skills. Years ago, he'd verbally boast and add a fancy move to emphasize it. Nowadays, he was quiet about it unless they were in a joking ambience. Pointing to his side, he complimented with a playful tone, "You did land a strike before your downfall."

"Thanks" she chuckled bashfully to his generous brownie point. Before he could draw any more humor on her part, she headed towards the campfire to place her kindling beside it. The heat emanating from the fire soothed her cold skin and she rubbed her hands over the flames to warm them. It didn't take long for the fire to comfort her tired bones and she turned away to inform him quietly, "I figure I might as well learn more while I'm here."

Her road was now tied to theirs after willingly seeking it and it was time to mark her own private journey. She didn't know how long she'd last there whether by a path home or an early demise. Her life had become a blank slate and although she'd stick to the shadows to remain nameless, she wouldn't be a hindrance or useless. If she was to help Altaïr on his mission home, she'd be just as tough as the man- minus the parkour and sharp sword fighting.

"Thank you for staying, Vivian" he whispered faintly when they were out of earshot from the other two. He wasn't certain if he'd voiced his appreciation since his focus was helping her grieve for their lost child and process his own. She was his partner and he'd do whatever he could to ensure her happiness. His world was not a walk in the park but she never failed to follow him loyally. He still remembered scaling the dirt hills and mounds of earth that had covered the derelict temple in Madagascar, teaching her how to climb them.

She smiled softly since he'd been the main reason she remained. There would be consequences added to the ones that already occurred, she was certain, but she'd done it with the best of intentions. Shrugging lightly, she brushed the topic aside as she accepted it, "I will find another way but for now, I'm right behind you. What's another year or so?"

Home had been seized from her but like he'd told her on the boat towards the southern coast, she had another one waiting. As painful as it was to grieve that loss, it had been overcome by having her new family beside her. She plopped down on a patch of bare earth close to the fire to stay warm. Altaïr followed suit since his white robes were due to be washed in the morning and he offered a sympathetic smile to stay positive, "We'll make it a good year and I promise to help you return home when you're ready, Vivian."

"You'll be the first to know" she promised with a solemn gaze because it would be a bittersweet moment when that time came. She didn't want to be robbed of one life but that would be the end game in her tale. One sacrifice in order to live the other life. For now, however, she was in a good place among family and had made a new friend in Bashir. She counted her happy moments as blessings in the harsh lifestyle they lived. She had walked safely through a forest today in a continent far from home, had a tent to sleep in for the night, and had food in her belly- life was good.

Altaïr caught a smile crossing her lips as she gazed into the fire across from them and he commented simply, "You look happy."

She turned to him with a widening smile as the dark days were gone, now that he was beside her, and answered truthfully, "I'm with my family."

The fire's glow enhanced her emerald eyes as she gazed him, illuminating her round face, and the waves settling on the ends of her raven hair. He wanted to cup her face and kiss her but having an audience was a huge no in both their books. They were extremely private individuals and he didn't want to chase her away. Vivian caught the melancholic flicker in his amber gaze as he turned to face the fire, her hand instinctively seeking his out of worry.

"I want you to be happy, Vivian" he whispered faintly as the wood crackled in the silent night. The sounds of wildlife filled the night sparsely and it put them at ease since complete silence or a ruckus meant predators. Her fingers slipped over the soft leather of his gauntlets to grasp his calloused fingers, squeezing them once in acknowledgement.

His face betrayed nothing but he squeezed her hand in return, appreciating her sentiment. He preferred this over nothing because it would mean automatic friendship for them. Her touch lingered for a few seconds before pulling back and masking the movement as an attempt to warm her hands by rubbing them.

"Why are my belongings in the other tent?"

Well, he was bound to have this conversation sooner or later.

The dai stood outside of the men's tent after he'd found his belongings placed in Altaïr's old sleeping spot. At least he actually arranged them neatly this time unlike Lake Victoria. Vivian and Bashir were unsure of what the dai was asking but his gaze was pinned on Altaïr only. They decided to quickly back out of the discussion and allowed their leaders to butt heads. Well, more often it was Malik lecturing the other. Altaïr stood up to dust himself off and approached his friend to reason confidently, "I figured a weekly exchange was more appropriate so we don't grow tired of each other."

The dai wasn't buying his reasoning for a second since it involved Vivian. Anything relating to her drew his friend's protective side. Testing the waters, Malik raised his hand towards the innocent Bashir and proposed, "So it's fine for Bashir to switch next week? Or for each of us to have the tent once a week to ourselves?"

"We'll see" Altaïr replied in even calm and Malik knew right away that meant 'no, in your dreams'.

"That sounds neat" Bashir piped up to the idea of having his own tent once a week. At the same time, Vivian was someone receptive to his scientific endeavors and could share ideas.

"Bashir, hush, your elders are talking" Altaïr ordered swiftly and the young man's shoulders dropped. Wasn't offering your opinion the point of a group discussion? Vivian simply patted his right shoulder in sympathy since she'd been silenced out of conversation many times in the past.

"The arrangement was fine but if you're going to do this weekly shift, it's only fair that it's done as a group" Malik voiced easily to ensure his friend wasn't doing something impulsive again. He knew Altaïr wanted to be the one to play protector for Vivian but she hadn't asked for him to be in the tent. Then again, it would look oddly suspicious if they cohabited permanently all of a sudden.

Vivian raised her hand like a student, accustomed to the action from their first days on the road. When they nodded for her to speak up, she voiced her thoughts, "I don't mind sharing or letting you have the tent to yourself once a week. It's fun having a roommate on the road and your senses are sharper than mine at night which is good for killing fat spiders and other critters. I also understand we all need our space sometimes too. Please don't let the 'Vivian's a chick' reason deter you."

"You're part fowl?" Bashir asked awkwardly to her strange jargon and Vivian groaned at having to reteach all her jokes. Yep, the old badger was coming back.

Malik understood that Altaïr wanted to repair their fractured relationship but was unsure on Vivian's viewpoint. Still, the two were grown adults and capable of their own decision making. Emotions were always strong with those two but when she agreed, he let it be.

Pointing at his brother in arms, he narrowed his eyes in warning and emphasized, "One week."

Before Altaïr could bask in his new victory, Malik finished the talk with a victory smirk of his own, "Then Bashir can have the tent to himself."

The dai walked away quietly to retreat to his old tent and Altaïr stood in place, thinking aloud, Wait, did I win or lose?

An hour later, he was still attempting to solve it and cursed Malik to high heavens. He couldn't do it in the opposite direction since that was his best friend and he deserved the best of his beliefs about death. Vivian caught the assassin staring at the closed tent flaps as the illuminating wax candle lit his features from the center of her tent. It was their only source of light now and as she slipped into her blankets, she attempted to keep a straight face as she asked, "Are you all right? I can't determine if you're confused or annoyed."

His vague and only response for more insight was, "Malik tends to bring both whenever he talks."

His simple brown sleepwear and messy short hair made it hard to take him seriously. Only his classic frown remained as it accentuated the scar on his lips. She hadn't been in a private setting like this in months and it stirred old memories of happier silly times. If they had met as friends or roommates in her time, he would've been a grumpy hoodie wearing coffee drinker by night and a criminal investigator that still drank coffee by day. He would not be the same man before her but it would've been an easier path to follow.

A brief flicker of regret bit her for even stepping foot in that comic shop years ago. Everyone's memories would be blank and everyone would've lived happily ever after- oh, who was she kidding. Happiness was fleeting in the world of Assassin's Creed with everyone but the main character being emotional fodder. Why the heck had she fallen for this series again? Oh yes, the history, vivid architecture. . . and the hot Syrian assassin that was as flexible as an acrobat, light as a feather to parkour, but seriously built to kill ten men. Yeah, that one.

Altaïr's voice cut into her nightly rambles of chaos, "Now you look confused."

Vivian snapped out of her thought bubble with a nervous laugh and waved a dismissive hand. Her silliness was returning tenfold as his presence calmed her every day and he quirked an eyebrow to her sputtering. She quickly motioned with her right hand towards him to move the spotlight back and hastily said, "Mine aren't Malik related but more 'things I'd lecture 21-year-old Vivian about'."

He decided not to venture down that subject for the night and admitted, "I'm attempting to figure out Malik's thought process."

Vivian snickered to his psychoanalysis, drawing his piercing amber gaze as it carried that natural firmness. Any other person would've cowered like a shaking caterpillar but she merely grinned. That didn't fill him with confidence and she replied with amusement, "I don't think we're meant to. At least, I believe he's reached a plateau that nobody can reach so you might be at this for years."

Altaïr grimaced to adding years to yet another task in his life and decided it was time for bed. Deciphering Malik as a master assassin was the equivalence of reading numerous bookshelves stacked with volumes. Slipping into his bag filled blankets, he blew out the candle since Vivian was already snug in her space. Shaking his head, he muttered dryly to that boring project, "I think I'll put that time towards leading my order. The prospect can be revisited in five years."

The two shuffled into their blankets to be comfortable for the night and he was glad for her company. Being cramped made him unhappy and he grew impatient easily with Bashir's unfounded fear of him. Vivian's voice carried over to him as she asked curiously, "Was your suggestion merely for time to spend with me or actual fairness for the group?"

He didn't expect that question posed at all and as he struggled to form a decent answer, she added in, "I only ask because Malik doesn't exactly lose an argument easily. He's a very good debater."

Well, he couldn't argue that since his communication skills had improved dramatically but they weren't perfect. Even his and Vivian's combined couldn't dent Malik's. His number one rule with Vivian had always been honesty and he sighed, "Would you hold it against me if I said it was for you?"

"No."

"Then it was for you."

His heart fluttered with warmth when her hand attempted to grasp his left in the darkness. His fingers intertwined with hers as he closed the distance, automatically gripping her thumb under his. With his left hand missing his ring finger, her third and fourth slipped into the empty space easily. Her hand squeezed his firmly and he heard her voice waver against the chattering bugs outside, "I haven't held your hand like this for months since Madagascar."

The progress they had attained there had come to a complete stop because of his unexpected leave. He was unsure on how to proceed with Vivian because her actions were not platonic and personally, he would not be aiming for simple friendship. He had his friend back the moment he returned to her and her personality reemerged weeks ago. The one he wanted was his partner, the one who would curl against him in the night and whisper sweet words of encouragement in his ear. It was a level of intimacy that he'd only achieved at her side and he yearned to return to it. All he could do was keep trying and reach that aspect of her.

"I'm never leaving you again, Vivian" he vowed softly to ensure their conversation wasn't overheard. He squeezed her hand and brushed his thumb over the top of her hand to reassure her further. Nothing would separate them again and he whispered, "I'll be by your side for a long time and you'll be the only one allowed to hold my hand as well."

His words brought an instant smile with a low laugh that she tried to quickly muffle with her free hand. It stirred the formation of tears in her eyes but she blinked them away easily. The lingering fear of losing him again was brushed aside for the happiness he brought her. He was her hero in many ways and although she had tried to keep him on his destined path, he had the uncanny knack of carving his own road with everything. He was not the type to follow another's words blindly and she gave him credit for that, even if it meant walking down an unexplored path with him.

"I'm very fortunate then" she admitted freely without concern as she took her own leap of faith with his way of thinking. Rigidity on a preset plan had backfired on them and it only seemed to lead to more misery the more she pushed it. Losing two things dear to her dealt damage but she'd expected losses, whether physical or not, along the journey. She wasn't ready to lose another and if it could be prevented or lessened, the little piece of her that remained apprehensive was puffing her chest with a shred of sudden bravery and walking down that uncharted path fearlessly to have a voice in the end game. Her heart sped up as she plunged into a road of honesty and promised, "You're the only one who I'll follow to the end of the Earth and back."

With one last squeeze to his hand, she closed her eyes as she felt an invisible weight lift from her shoulders, "Rest well, Altaïr."

He noticed she didn't release his hand at all when she curled into her blankets and replied, "Good night, Vivian."

There was no hesitation in his mind: He was hers and she was his.

Goodhouse, South Africa

The group received their first clue of civilization when nomadic tribes steered clear from the trio in both fright and disgust. They couldn't exactly help their skin tone and were pretty much branded as supernatural creatures. Emerging out of the forest that bordered the river hadn't exactly been the best introduction and the two groups had stared at each other blankly. Once Bashir's Arabic greeting passed his lips, they hightailed it out of there when the indigenous tribe decided hurling rocks was the solution.

After managing to escape with their lives intact, the three picked leaves out of their attire while refilling their canteens at the river's edge. Backtracking had not been on their agenda but being unable to pinpoint where to go at this point, it didn't really matter. They were in uncharted territory with only geographical points, a compass, and maps from home to guide them. Not exactly the best choices when compared to modern science but they made do. They knew their goal had been reached since the elevation dipped to the lowest point as the Orange River headed north to Namibia. The towering mountains and cliffs had been left behind weeks ago and the land had slowly returned lower to meet the riverbank. The team had caught sight of pastures in the distance before retreating so their checkpoint had been reached.

"At least they didn't throw arrows in our direction" Bashir piped up optimistically to the team and watched them shrug half-heartedly. They would've preferred an amicable introduction using hand gestures rather than hostility. It had worked for them in Madagascar when they couldn't find an Arabic translator.

"Next time, no smiles or talking to them" his leader decided since Bashir's friendliness put them in a bind this time. Naturally, the position of peaceful newcomer fell to Malik but the dai had not been fast enough to chuck aside the young man. When they met people again, Altaïr would resort to a headlock with Bashir and stuff a cloth in Vivian's mouth in case her natural cheerfulness scared people away.

Vivian raised furrowed her brow to his request and crossed her arms to question, "How will we communicate then?"

Altaïr shrugged noncommittally as he opened his empty canteen to refill it and offered, "Humankind survived without verbal speech for centuries and we turned out fine. We'll resort to old grunting and hand signals."

Was he serious about that? Vivian fought the urge to splash him with water since they were assembled as a team for the moment. She couldn't imagine him using hand signals for peace, especially when his hidden blade was activated when certain hand muscles were used. Sitting on a nearby rotting log, she nursed her canteen for the cold refreshing water and shot back, "You're aware your ancestors were created by an even older race as subservient slaves?"

"We revolted and survived- like I said, turned out fine" he emphasized as he repeated himself, nodding to her firmly. Her face broke into a grin to his no-nonsense attitude, laced with facts, and flicked droplets of water from his fingers in her direction. He wanted to keep that expression on her face.

"I don't think we'll have a peaceful coexistence if that's the majority group" Malik sighed under his breath since they'd been incredibly lucky for the most part. They had had the most conflict during the first year with Templars reaching as far as lower Egypt before losing them. If it wasn't Templars, it was civilians they had to convince of their innocence.

Leaning against a tree, he brushed his hand through his short hair and sighed, "We're out of our element here."

"Look at the bright side, if they're scared of us, it gives us free reign to explore" Altaïr pointed out to provide a positive outlook for his friend but Malik wasn't convinced. He couldn't allow his friends to falter now that they were halfway through their trip. Malik was his oldest friend and if he was concerned, then it was time to be cautious.

Altaïr could only offer alternatives and other ideas to handle the situation. As their leader, he took all of their concerns in mind but everyone usually fell in line behind the dai. He was still trying to figure out how Malik ended up as the wise one but put a huge bookmark on his many years being an arrogant stubborn man.

"So what do we do, sir?" Bashir asked uncertainly as he dared the question, slowly backing away in case he earned a lecture. He was still becoming accustomed to his leader's lack of angry tantrums and scolding since he earned them all the time back at Masyaf before his return.

He needed to meditate with the pieces of Eden for more insight to the location. It hadn't led him astray during his search for the last item on Madagascar. True, it had magnified his innate abilities temporarily with its effects to the point he almost collapsed under mental exhaustion but he persisted. He wasn't giving up on his mission, failure wasn't in his vocabulary, and he had his team to back him up like always.

"We'll stay close to the forest but we our scope is this side of the river towards the south" he informed the team for the path with the least danger and they nodded quietly. The land was entirely new and untamed unlike the other places they'd visited. Madagascar had pushed their limits with their resources but they knew the coastline had ports to return them to the mainland. They were close to the Atlantic Ocean for the first time and the trek hadn't been easy as claustrophobia had settled in at the start. Now, the open landscapes and low elevation made them uneasy after growing accustomed to the cozy forest.

Malik's gaze turned to the right, where they'd originally run from the indigenous people, and he pointed out, "This land is entirely foreign to us and we have nobody to seek for refuge here. We must be extremely careful on our path and ensure we aren't followed."

"Got it, no cheese trails" Vivian piped up despondently as their lighthearted mood at reaching their destination wasn't as peppy as she expected.

"And no accidental fires" Bashir added in, nodding cheerfully, in contrast to Vivian's tone. He picked up Vivian's slack when it came to joking and Altaïr said nothing, merely watching the corner of her lips lifting.

Malik shook his head to the scientist, a brotherly look of amusement aimed at him as he pointed out, "Bashir, I don't believe accidents work that way."

"Well, it's the best I can do" the young man replied back awkwardly to his tendencies to experiment and accidentally have things either catch fire or explode. Being on the road, he was only able to store items for future experiments and time in camp only allowed him to write down his ideas before retiring for the night. His hands patted down the sleeves of his white robe, an old fire stain on the right sleeve, and he piped up, "At least, for now."

Bashir's chocolate eyes blinked in confusion to all of the perplexed and uncertain looks from his team. Raising his hands in the air innocently, he asked aloud, "What?"

"Don't have me place you back on my babysitting roster" Altaïr stated dryly to ensure nothing would catch fire along the way that would expose their position. They'd already come close to setting fire to the forest twice on their journey which wasn't too bad. Bashir usually tended to set their tablecloths on fire or stain them with some random substance at least once a week back in Masyaf. Before he received a pitiful look from Bashir's end, he asserted, "I'm not kidding."

The scientists' shoulders drooped to being under watch by two master assassins and Vivian teased gently, "Yeah, that spot's usually reserved for me and Vivian doesn't share."

Clapping him on the back with encouragement, she smiled amicably, "Don't worry, you won't be on Altaïr's 'Roster of Shame'."

Bashir returned the kind smile as his old confidence returned and nodded, "Thank you, Vivian."

Altaïr had to admit that Vivian took great care of his team to keep their morale high. It had disappeared when he returned as Malik became the de facto leader until everyone was ready to reclaim their old roles and begin again. Malik rallied them easily and while he led them, Vivian and Bashir were finding their footing once more. While he kept an eye on Vivian due to their shared loss, she had returned to her old cheerful nature. It wasn't as strong as it had been in Quelimane but it was enough to bear the stress of the trip.

Bashir was their newest lamb to guide since this was the farthest he'd ever been away from home. Altaïr had ventured out on his own at fifteen so he wanted Bashir to experience as much as possible, even if it wasn't positive half the time. Vivian and Malik looked after him like siblings already, building his confidence bit by bit. He had a sharp mind for science but Altaïr reminded him that his role was also to be an assassin, meaning exposure to the outside world. He didn't want his assassins to remain in Masyaf all their life and wanted them to experience living in other foreign cities, blending into the cultures to expand their Order. Bashir could very well be the first under his guidance to do so.

Vivian poked her head out of the tent when silence was all she heard outside. Usually, Bashir's chatter filled the short distance to automatically let her know everything was fine. Curious and on alert, her gaze hovered over their camp.

The instinctive cautiousness melted away into comfort at seeing Altaïr sitting by himself off to the side. He was writing in one of his journals again, a brown leatherback this time, and completely immersed in his thoughts. She didn't spot their other two teammates and stepping out of her tent, she piped up, "Where is Bashir and Malik?"

He paused in his scribbling as she snapped him out of it, meeting her gaze to reply, "I sent Bashir to forage and Malik, well, I'm not certain- babysitting?"

Vivian shot him an amused expression at that and Altaïr pointed out snippily, "He tends to spontaneously combust which requires vigilance. Of all people, I'd think you'd be thankful I'm watching out for your forest friends."

She resisted the ancient temptation to roll her eyes and shook her head to his logic. Well, he did have a point on the fire hazard. Bashir was the first person she'd met that should actually have warning labels attached due to his proneness to accidental fires. Altaïr's warning labels were all under his control which is why he and Malik multitasked in babysitting.

"So they're safe?" she asked simply before they treaded onto parenting styles regarding an adult man.

When her leader, a master assassin, shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, her face fell. Had she somehow stepped into the twilight zone? What had happened to the rampaging man that had torn apart doors just to find each of them if they didn't report within an hour? She still remembered apologizing to the innkeeper for his missing doors while Malik paid off the damage.

"Altaïr Ibn La-Ahad, you're telling me you don't know where our team is?" she questioned firmly and his shoulders straightened to hearing his full name. Uh-oh, the little badger was turning feisty again from her usual mellow nature. Part of him welcomed it but he also didn't want to end up in the figurative dog house.

He was certain they were fine but Vivian was not having that as an answer. She wanted definitive proof their friends were safe and as a leader, he should want that as well. Subduing a groan at having to pause his writing, he tucked the book into one of his leather pockets with great reluctance. Reluctance so great that even Vivian took notice and crossed her arms to chide, "I think you just invented slow motion in the 12th century."

Approaching her, he pinched the cowl of her robes and tugged her forward with a frown, "If I'm searching for these two, you're suffering with me."

"Words spoken like a true hero" she remarked sarcastically but frankly, she was eager to join him on a scouting trip. She flicked off his fingers with her own to smooth down her gray robes and retain her neat appearance in the wild forests of south Africa. Altaïr had given that up after Quelimane and would shove his hidden blade into anyone that offered a smartass comment.

The assassin said nothing to her sassiness but when he turned to head down the closest foraging path, he smirked. She was definitely his old Vivian again. He didn't have to tailor his words as gently as he could anymore as she tolerated his bluntness again. He took the lead down their makeshift path for food to ensure it was safe for her and pointed out, "I never said I was a hero, Vivian."

"But you're the greatest assassin ever, a hero of renown-" she began to recount her old song in story form, waving her arms to emphasize his importance.

"That's liable to boost my ego back into hubris mode" he reminded matter-of-factly to what endless compliments could do. He'd grown-up hearing he was a prodigy with his skills and that had gone to his head rather quickly as a youth.

"You deserve the praise now while back then, you were an asshole and got squat" she reasoned easily with an impish smile and he turned around to quirk an eyebrow at her. It was their form of playful fun in the outdoors and her smile widened into a full grin. He loved her carefree expression and she bounded up to lightly press her hands against his side to motion to keep moving. Together, they walked further into the brush and she pointed out, "Remember how many knife holes you left in my robes from the warning stabs when you stuck me to random walls?"

He withheld amused laughter to those old memories, remembering her balled fists and legs wiggling comically for freedom. They had brought each other fury and annoyance during the first months, leading him to pining her somewhere to keep her out of his way or sending her on a useless errand. During his worst moments, he'd led her to cheese like a hungry mouse and literally trapped her inside a wooden crate for an hour. He'd laughed in his tent to his genius and forbid Malik from freeing her.

"I think you're more liable to do that now, not that I'd mind" he commented freely with an alluring tone that almost led Vivian to pinching herself. There was a rich tone that mixed into his firm voice whenever he attempted to be charming. She didn't want to turn a bashful red but managed to control it before she needed that jolting pinch. Imagining an immobile Altaïr that was completely vulnerable to her will would lead her down a naughty lane.

Her willpower on that blush waned when he spoke quietly, "Vivian. Your fist has punched my stomach but your words have touched my heart-"

"Wait, are you trying to sing?" she balked with wide unbelieving eyes since his voice had dropped to a low-key tone. Never in a million years did she think he was even capable of doing such a thing. Much less in the middle of a forest where the voice could carry over to their circles of friends. Had she hit her head on a branch along the way and didn't realize she was hallucinating?

"Vivian."

"Altaïr, I'm serious here!" she exclaimed shrilly with comically large eyes since this was her first experience with another side of his art. He was complex in nature already but she never imagined or fathomed the thought of song dwelling in his mind. Had she rubbed off on him with her endless music that he'd started to develop his own? It wasn't exactly a song in key but the pacing of the words made it sound like a blend between a song and storytelling.

He paid her no mind as she tagged alongside him and subdued a grin to her alarmed face, "I won't let anything in this world keep us apart-"

"Shh!"

Altaïr and Vivian halted their conversation (or attempt to sing, in Altaïr's corner) immediately as they approached a fork in their familiar foraging path. The sound that interrupted him belonged to a certain someone but he couldn't verify it until he saw the man. Lunch wouldn't make itself and they couldn't find Bashir or Malik at all to designate assignments.

Before the master assassin could demand if he'd been shushed by a man ten years younger or a sentient plant that sounded like Bashir, the scientist in question popped out of a nearby bush. Vivian's hands flew to the knife on her belt instinctively while Altaïr was one second away from accidentally murdering one of his own with his hidden blade. This was exactly why he enacted the babysitting rule in the first place!

Bashir had donned a makeshift crown of twine and grass over his head as he cast aside his trademark robes. His cheeks had green leaves sticking to his olive skin, giving him a wild appearance. Vivian relaxed immediately to the eccentric man but Altaïr remained in his position for a few seconds to ensure he hadn't gone mad. If he'd accidentally eaten unknown berries in his pursuit for science and was in a hallucinogenic state, he'd have to knock him out.

From above, they heard Malik's voice in a purposely subdued tone, "He's scouting his incoming catch."

The two looked up to find the dai relaxing on a large branch with a book in hand. As Bashir's partner, he'd set up the trap to the man's instructions- though his own trapping technique was far different. He wanted to encourage his friend's survival skills and if it did fail, which it did indeed have a catastrophically high failure rate, he would fetch food himself for the team.

Vivian ran her fingers through her raven hair in disbelief and asked her leader, "How? How does he manage to do that every time?"

Altaïr shrugged nonchalantly since it didn't surprise him and pointed out easily, "He's one of us. He has to be able to do that or it's retirement."

"Silence, sir, you're scaring our food away" Malik ordered quickly since he wanted to relax in the only shady spot of their camp. The longer they traveled, the more he grew fond of the large trees able to conceal him when he needed to relax. Careful as every assassin, he sprayed repellant everywhere before sitting down and set his own trap for snakes and other critters.

Altaïr glanced down at the scientist as he hid within the large bush and asked flatly, "How exactly are you hunting by sitting in place? This isn't a river for fishing, Bashir."

"We need to become one with nature to catch and eat her children" Bashir pointed out calmly as he retreated further into the bush and looked straight ahead. A good hunter kept a vigilant eye on his prey, after all. Altaïr didn't even sigh in aggravation after encountering similar mind boggling things with Vivian. Actually, no, she'd only attempted a gender change- not becoming one with the wild itself. If she did, he'd rip off her makeshift crown and chuck her into the nearest river for a reality check.

Vivian paused her blinking, stared at their leader in bewilderment, and stated, "I'm not even going to address that."

Deciding to humor her with a dash of truth, Altaïr told her with a cocky smile, "Well, in his defense, we do eat them."

"Shh!"

Bashir pointed straight ahead of him in an effort to silence their chatter and Altaïr grabbed Vivian to step behind the nearest tree. She poked her head out to follow his line of vision and spotted a brown rabbit scurrying in the brush. The rope for the trap descended from the tree Malik sat in while a circular scrap of cloth had the rope sewn into it.

Vivian had never seen a trap like that from all her time with the two assassins and gazed at Altaïr to ask uncertainly, "You're not going to say anything? Not even a glare or chide?"

"I'm curious to see this play out" he replied with hints of amusement in his voice and she quirked an eyebrow. He had something planned, didn't he? Clearing his throat, his tone changed to his professional one and he reasoned, "A master must always assess his team's abilities and Bashir is trying to hunt which is a skill one must know when civilization is scarce."

"Either I know you too well or you're slipping with the bullshit detector" she laughed cheerfully, covering her mouth with her hands to keep the area quiet. Her bright gaze met his amused one as they hid behind a tree of all things. She loved his playful side when it surfaced, especially in public, and lowered her voice to ask mischievously, "How many assassins does it take to catch one rabbit?"

"One to hop up to it and another to sneak up and slay it?" the master assassin replied with curiosity to his strategy. When Vivian's face fell and she covered it with her hands, he stirred more laughter by moving her fingers like a curtain to find her. Was he not supposed to answer the joke in question? Otherwise, why would- oh!

Awkwardly, he realized what he'd done and muttered, "Too graphic?"

"Not for us but let's make it children friendly for the kids at Masyaf next time" she chuckled fondly to his attempt to shift his humor into everyday fun. He had a feeling she'd make a good storyteller for them, especially if their current scenario was retold. He was best for the teen to adult range to prevent traumatizing youngsters with nightmares.

Bashir watched his target with determination and when the rabbit ate the bait within it, the trap activated. With glee in his eyes, he awaited his victory! He could practically taste it- well, when he cooked his prize over the fire. Vivian covered her eyes while the assassins watched the trap raise off the floor with the rabbit. To their shock, it hurled the rabbit clear across the forest as a catapult rather than fold inwards to bag it as a trap.

All of the assassins stared for a few seconds to recover from the initial surprise that the rabbit, their meal, had been flung away from them.

Bashir's face fell with dismay and Malik took vantage point from his position to call back to the team, "Um. . . I don't think it's coming back."

Altaïr glanced at the crestfallen scientist-turned-hunter and encouraged with a smirk, "Congratulations on being the first in our order to send a rabbit flying into the heavens."

Bashir raised his hands pitifully to his complete failure, shoulders dropping glumly, and pointed out, "But I didn't mean to do that!"

"No, but imagine if you developed it to impede your enemies" Altaïr proposed to show him a different angle that would bring him success. Vivian aimed a knowing look at her leader as he utilized Bashir's inventions for improving the Order instead of the poor man's joy.

"That wasn't my intention, sir" Bashir frowned with disappointment and stood up to discard his crown of leaves. His raven hair stood on end for a few seconds before he combed it down with his fingers and pulled up his white hood.

Malik decided to encourage the young assassin by leading him in an acceptable direction. It seemed he sorely needed provide Altaïr with parenting tips as well or otherwise, Darim would be boggled out of his mind one day.

"Bashir, come, I'll show you how to catch prey" the dai instructed as he remained rooted to his hiding spot. The young man's face lit up to learning from Malik and to the prospect of redeeming himself. Altaïr hadn't seen him move so fast as he climbed the nearest tree to meet Malik and allowed the two to carry on by themselves.

Turning to Vivian, Altaïr was finally able to score a point by emphasizing, "See, they're fine."

A/N: And they're back! I'm very sorry it took this long but full-time work, another degree (I think that's #5 now, I lost count now), and life got in the way. So the group made the west to east crossing of the continent in one piece and a little less sanity than before they began. Except Malik, somehow, he's immune to everything. With the southern west end being off the seafaring and trade map, it's rough terrain for the trio unlike their other sites. In modern day, it's 341 hours of travel by foot as well so I can only imagine untamed land making it twice as hard. They'll be on the search for the next POE in the following chapter where they'll face their first opposition in a long while. I'm trying to determine what abilities or who I want Altair to communicate with or potentially see- I'm veering in a different direction than Ubisoft since the ethereal nature of the ancients faded after AC3 for me. For any readers tuning in to my AC3 tale, I'll be updating that one soon as well.

Thank you for the past reviews and PM pokes for updates, which I just tuned into after new year's and realized I have like 30+. Thank you for the support, readers!

Next Time: Saving a Master Assassin

Malik stopped walking when he heard gravel shifting and torch lighting that increased in luminescence with the steps. He was unsure if it was his comrades or the natives dwelling in the cave system. With Altaïr missing, he had to be on his most vigilant to avoid becoming the next one on that roster for the team.

He had to disguise his presence and quickly jammed the bottom of his torch between two rocks on the ground. Sticking close to the wall of the cave's tunnel, he shifted his weight towards his toes to maintain a silent stealthy approach. Having one arm left him at a disadvantage against a two-armed opponent but he still had a few skills up his sleeve.

The unknown individual approached the adjacent tunnel that opened into a two fork road. He wasn't fond of cave systems at all due to their endless nature and potential instability for a cave-in. Pressing his back against the edge of the cave wall, he waited until the other person crossed the opening to launch a sneak attack. Being an experienced assassin, it took him less than five seconds to find his opponent's weak spots and struck.

The moment he saw the torch and dark clothes, Malik grabbed the back of their neck as he had height to his advantage. Shoving them against the wall by using his momentum, he managed to knock the torch away from them as they groaned in pain. Kicking them in the midsection, he knocked out their air and attempt to retaliate (a punch, really?). As they hunched over from the immediate effect, Malik still had his grip on the neck attire and used his strength to easily flip his opponent over onto the ground.

His right foot immediately wedged under the person's jaw and before he pressed down to asphyxiate them, he heard, "Malik, stop!"

Bashir's voice echoed in the dark tunnel and the dai jerked back before he crushed the man's throat. Unsure of the situation, he backed away before his adrenaline caused his body to instinctively react with another attack. Bashir's torch had flickered out but his own remained behind them and he could see the young man's white robes under a gray cloak. Why had he changed his appearance? They had all entered the cave with attire that was not meant to be changed! He did not want to explain accidentally killing one of his brothers to Altaïr and have his honor tarnished.

"Why would you change your attire?" he questioned sharply as Bashir groaned painfully underneath him. The poor young man had only been following orders to investigate a tunnel but that hadn't meant altering your look.

Bashir rubbed his aching lower torso as he managed to lay on his side like an injured puppy. Too many body parts hurt already and he managed to explain, "I didn't want it to get dirty and have our leader chastise me. It's working right now while I wallow in embarassing pain and wet dirt."

Malik shook his head since Altaïr only cared about that back in Masyaf. In the outdoors, the uniform was easily stained and only his friend was finicky about his appearance. Dirt was exactly why he preferred navy robes over his old assassin's uniform. It was easier to wash away and cover bloodstains that way. Looking down at his young friend, Malik pointed out simply to emphasize his potentially grievous error, "You're aware I could've dislocated your neck?"

"Yes, which is why I suggest never splitting up again" Bashir groaned pitifully to the horrid idea they'd come up with and hoped to never see a cave again. Catching his breath, he sat up with a groan and rubbed the back of his neck. Malik merely glanced at him like a disappointed teacher and Bashir muttered flatly, "I don't know whose worse at beating up my liver, you or Altaïr."

Thank you as always for reading, to my old readers and new!