sable_repose | m o b i l e ⇨ Somarium

"I will gladly share with you what you intended to share with me––Altaïr." He gave the other a smile and his eyes drifted to the seat. "Sit, I will bring you some drink and food, ah––and a book that will explain everything." He was gone for ten minutes and when he returned he had a tray of wine, two glasses, bread and cheese, and a journal. He set the tray down and took the book for himself, first, and opened it carefully.

"Before arriving here.. my villa was attacked and with it went the last of your words, Altaïr––the Codex in which you have written for us, for your Creed, for the assassins who are in need of your guidance. I have started this book here, with your words to my memory, and have written in it the first few pages of your Codex.." He handed over the book and sat back in his chair. His elbows rested on the arms of the chair and he held up his hands before him, watching Altaïr eagerly and with great satisfaction.

With a nod Altaïr sat down, getting himself settled, and his eyes trailed Ezio as the other man moved from the room. Altaïr's eyes went down his back to the tails of his white robes, then to the boots of his well kept leather boots. European, Altaïr thought to himself, then looked down at his own robes and his very worn, much softer leather boots. He wondered quietly to himself if Ezio was content with this Great One or not? Altaïr thought so, he seemed eager to show and to share with him, and Altaïr was confident that even if he was so far from the past his skills were still of some use in Ezio's time.

When Ezio returned Altaïr looked up and sat up straighter as the tray was sat down. He took up one of the glasses and smelled it, smelled the alcohol in his drink and gave Ezio a look before he took a small sip to taste it on his tongue. The bubbliness of it took him by surprise and his eyes squinted a moment before he set the glass back down and wiped his hands on his lap before taking up the Codex.

"These were my words?" he asked for confirmation as his eyes took in what Ezio had copied from memory: I have spent days with the artifact now. Or has it been weeks? Months? I can no longer be certain...The others come from time to time – offering food or distraction. They say I should separate myself from these studies... Malik has even suggested I abandon them entirely. But I am not yet ready to turn away. This Apple of Eden will be understood. It must be...Is it a weapon? Is it a catalogue? Is it somehow both?

Altaïr looked up from the pages and stared across the room before he set the book down carefully, and he scooted up in his chair. Altaïr twisted his torso and retrieved the Apple. "It is this which I had wanted to share."

Ezio cocked his head and drew it back just a little as he peered down at the Apple with a stuck up nose. "Sí.." He cleared his throat and straightened his head again. "Such a thing." He drew in a breath, held it, then exhaled. "I have come to know that as well, but it was taken from my villa before deciding how to hide.. or rid of it." He wet his lips and leaned forward, not for the Apple, but for the drink.

After hefty gulps he sighed and set the glass down. "I know it is not for me but for someone in the great future.. beyond us both. A boy named Desmond, he too was here, briefly but he is gone." There was some resentment there and his tone was full of distaste.

"The boy, he was an assassin?" Altaïr asked, impressed with Ezio not wanting to touch or inspect the Apple. It was a great artifact of power, and it said much of Ezio's strength of character that he would deny it even while knowing its power. Altaïr looked down at the sphere in his hand, mesmerized for a few moments over the inherent glow that came from the curved lines of it. Altaïr blinked slowly before putting the Apple back away.

Then, on second thought, he took a few moments to unhook the pouch from his belt that the Apple was in. Altaïr set this pouch with its heavy burden down on the table and he too reached for the tray, but tore himself off a piece of bread.

"If it is safe here I would keep the Apple here. I do not like carrying it with me but have no safe place to keep it myself." He was putting much trust in Ezio with this task.

Ezio eyed the pouch, then his eyes were quickly on Altaïr. There was a significant amount of trust in regards to the Apple and that Altaïr would put that trust in him, Ezio was honored. "Altaïr.. I am honored," he could not let this moment pass without expressing such to the other. "That you would trust me, that you would trust this," he gestured up, indicating his fortress, "enough to leave such .. power here. I will keep it safe here." He then looked to his bracer. "You, of course, can come and go or stay as you please. This place is for me and for you.. and for any other assassin––not Desmond." He then thought better as it sounded as if he was excluding the boy. "I believe the boy was not an assassin, he had no robes and … no Tact." In either tongue or body.

Altaïr's eyebrows rose slightly but only for a moment, and he gave a nod. He would keep this in mind in case Desmond returned as he evidently had himself, and as Ezio had several times now by the sounds of his story. "Your hand, the finger. I see this had changed at some point." Altaïr brought the bite of bread up to his mouth and chewed it while he felt at the nub where his finger had once been, then looked up to Ezio as he swallowed.

He leaned forward to take his glass and tried another sip of wine, finding it strange, exotic on his tongue. His eyes wandered the room again and he felt the richness of this place. Ezio was a man of means it seemed, and it felt so different from Masyaf. The only luxury they had was the garden. The fortress itself was old, and required much upkeep. His eyes went to Ezio's robes and armor, and then he smoothed his hand down his chest and it came to rest on his wide belt.

He was a man of means unless he had help, it occurred to him. "You built all of this yourself? Are there no other assassins here?"

"Sí," Ezio lifted his hand and turned it over to show Altaïr the burned mark on his finger. "There are no other assassins here, and I built what I could with my hands.. which is little." He chuckled. His eyes then looked around the library before returning to Altaïr. "I have hired contractors to work in silence for different areas of my home. Some I used again, others I used once.. Not one knows all my rooms."

Altaïr gave a slight nod, thinking Ezio wise for having done so with what resources he had, and thinking so far ahead. His eyes trailed over the details of the others' clothing and armor yet again it occurred to him suddenly that these robes could be that of a Master, in Ezio's own time. The robes were different enough from his own that who knew what the Master's or Mentor's robes would look like?

He bite off a small piece of cheese while staring at Ezio's belt and his eyes lifted to the other man's face. His tongue felt at the scar on his upper lip and he realized he had never shared his own tale, even if Ezio's had been vague. "Mine was during sword practice when I was a novice," he said, out of place somewhat for their conversation. "Sparring in the training ring."

Altaïr popped the last bit of cheese into his mouth and stared at his lap while he chewed and swallowed, then he came to the question he wanted to ask next, and he met Ezio's eyes for it. "Are you Master in your own time?"

"Aren't we all masters of our time?" He said, thinking himself clever yet there was a sadness to his tone as well. "To those that follow me, yes. I will lead them. I have become a master in our Creed and will establish bureaus throughout Italy. Freeing the people of the oppressors by taking back control regions of our lands." He looked to Altaïr's scar and wondered on his fight, wondering if he felt himself more a man for the scar to his mouth for everyone to see. Ezio's was not significant in that way, but in the way that during that day, that time, everything had changed and he no longer was the boy that obtained that wound and by the time it healed he was on the path of becoming the man he must, the man he needed to be.

Masters of our time... Altaïr had not been, he had been stripped of his rank and rightfully so, made to learn the ways of a Master Assassin once more. It was ironic in a way that the man who had taught him some of his most valuable lessons was his greatest foe in the end. Altaïr gave a slight nod, agreeing to what was said for he understood the sentiment of it and not the literal meaning of it. Ezio was wise.

"Then you and I, we are equals," he concluded, motioning to Ezio and then to himself. "I would not have you call me Master, I would have you call me Altaïr. Ezio, we are brothers."

"We are brothers," Ezio agreed but there was some reluctance in his tone. "But you .." He looked to the table, the pouch that held the Apple then moved his eyes to the food and glasses. How can he explain the greatness of Altaïr to Altaïr who does not recognize the legacy he had left behind. His eyes lifted and he looked to the young face, youthful, beautiful, harsh and dark with mystery. "So young," but there was highlights to Altaïr's face, especially in his eyes, almost a glow with the specks of gold to those brown eyes. "But you have accomplished so much already and to think of what you will do for yours in your time and mine and me in mine.. it is .. beyond equal."

It had been a long time since someone had spoken so highly of him. Altaïr was respected for his skills but by the time he'd lost his rank much of the brotherhood spoke ill of him behind his back, for his failure at Solomon's Temple and the loss of Kadar. Even in that moment Altaïr had not understood the depth of his failures. Assassins were lost all the time, it was expected, they lived and died by the Creed. Yet Kadar had been but a novice and his respect and admiration of Altaïr had gotten him killed. Altaïr looked down and away, feeling a strange mixture of both pride at Ezio's words and shame for his actions. It was that same pride which had cost lives.

Yet his pride did swell with Ezio's words. Had he not already made up greatly for those mistakes, had not Malik said himself that he was not the same man? He sought forgiveness from Malik most of all but the man had said he no longer needed it. Perhaps his time of shame was indeed done, and the future ahead where he would accomplish these great tasks that Ezio spoke of could be attributed to this new him.

Altaïr felt the corner of his mouth twitch up very briefly, almost a smile, and he smoothed his hands down over his thighs as he glanced up at Ezio before shaking his head and looking away to try and hide the smile that was trying to surface. "Not young enough that I do not recognize that having my pride stroked so is not entirely healthy for me, or anyone else."

Ezio tilt his head back with a snort, then forward with a grin. He stretched out his legs on the ground before his chair and smoothed his palms on the chair's arms. "Ah, everyone needs a good stroking." He exaggerated and huffed over a confident grin to his lips. "It is essential to remind us that we are appreciated, we are needed." He looked between Altaïr's eyes and down to the scar at his mouth. "Anyway, I need it, for you and for myself." He confessed, not embarrassed or guilty for it.

A good stroking. Such a choice of words, it had Altaïr's bottom lip between his lip a moment to prevent himself a snort of his own. Altaïr had never been one to be very emotive, nor indeed to have many emotions besides a drive to succeed and to be the best, and often anger or at least heated blood toward violence. Something about Ezio was putting him at ease though, made him feel comfortable and light. Perhaps it was fact he respected Altaïr already, and was so comfortable in saying so.

At the admittance of his own pride Altaïr felt a further kinship to this new brother, and he finally allowed himself a sharp exhale through his nose that was nearly a chuckle. Ezio was amusing, as well as capable.

"Then allow me stroke you in return, Ezio. I am highly impressed with this den." Altaïr looked briefly around the room but then his eyes were sharp on Ezio again, taking in the details of the man. "With your stature..." He was a big man, it wasn't the first or last time he would mentally remark on that fact. "With your abilities, and what you have done here. It is not often I compliment others but it is due here, I will say it freely. You have impressed me." After this was said it was no good, Altaïr could no longer subdue nor hide it, he gave Ezio a smile.

Ezio bowed his head in gratitude for Altaïr's kind words and lifted his head in time to see the smile. It was kind and full and that dark mysterious edge Altaïr had, Ezio noticed softened and the light from his eyes seeped through his expression. He was beautiful.

It was something to be acknowledged and complimented by Altaïr, a feeling he wouldn't forget or let go so quickly, it warmed him from the inside out and made him feel pride in abundance. He returned the smile.

m o b i l e ⇨ Somarium

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