"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.

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?"

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?"

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."

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."

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.