castleinthemist | day 001

At first, things simply do not... make sense.

This was not Jerusalem, not Arsuf, nor Jerusalem. Yes, perhaps the architecture and material of the walls and floor seemed familiar, but the atmosphere was completely different. This was not home, not even close to what he regarded the term as. At first, he did not take the item beside the bed, chose to explore the room instead. Searching for an opening, something that would give him an idea of what exactly was being dealt with. Nothing. So he returned to the object. Upon picking it up, he examined the item, tried to make sense of it. To no avail at what appeared to be witchcraft, he left it alone in one of the bags across his waist, continued out of the room.

From there, it had been observation. This had been the process for the first few days.

Finally, by the third day he pulled himself out of whatever comfort he had achieved and began to speak to others. Not so many that he was overwhelmed with this information. Just enough to give him an idea of the situation so that he could figure things out, get even more of a hold on things, if that was possible. Some information had been gained, but it left him with more questions, some bordering on the side of philosophical and worrisome.

He needed to clear his mind, else these thoughts distract him, get him injured, sidetracked, worse than anything. So he took to exploring the castle further. Several times he passed through the same room as a result of taking the wrong turn, not realizing that he was going over his footsteps again and again. At one point he scaled the walls to get somewhere higher, and it was a success. Wandering, he came across an open floor, ruined beyond recognition. Rubble was scattered across the floor, the stairs appeared fragile and even as he drew close to them stone fell, the structure shook. Keeping his distance, he turned the other way.

More holes in the ground. More things falling apart at the seams.

A sigh and he adjusted his belongings, his robes. He moved to jump back down to the lower level, began to simply... walk, looking for someone else to speak to, exploring more of the castle that he could not explain.

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Sofia had never been so bored in her life, in a place with few books, and no climbing nor combat skills to speak of. She had kept excellent company, of course, but it wasn't quite the same as having work; she missed being able to sit down with a book for hours and hours at a time, or burying herself in a translation, or running errands. It was still strange to her that she didn't have much to do, let alone being away from the comforts she had enjoyed in her usual life.

But then she spotted him, and suddenly her day got a little more interesting. Kadar didn't carry himself like that, and his outfit was a little different. Was it someone new?

"Ah," she called. "Another assassino?"

He was too preoccupied with look around, memorizing the layout of the room. It had been a careless action, he would admit that. The voice startles him and his walks stops as it resounds towards him. Shifting, he moved to look over to the source and upon finding the woman, he raised a brow, kept his posture.

Maybe the best action was to hide. Curiosity won over in the long run, unfortunately.

"Speak your name, and how you know of that title." Even if it was in another tongue he knew not of, the word was still the same. Enough for him to catch on, enough so that he could ask, and keep his distance at the same time.

She closed her book most of the way, thumb between the pages to keep her place. Her interactions with the Brotherhood had been somewhat limited, in a way; she'd spent time with them, and Ezio had explained much, but her conversations with them had always been quick and to the point. Generally, she loved that direct bluntness, but it had a habit of not sating her own curiosity.

"I am Sofia Auditore," she replied, and she added, a little cheekily, "Do not worry, I mean you no harm. My husband is Mentore of the Italian Assassins."

The name was unfamiliar, Italian at the least if he had to pick something out about her. Not a common woman, not with how she had approached him with little caution, curiosity open like that very book she had been paging through. Mentore? Italian Assassins? He had never heard of such a thing, and the confusion was obvious.

"How can he be? How do they exist?" Her name stuck in his mind. This was definitely someone to keep an eye out for, and he had already given his name freely before. This woman knew of the assassins, somehow.

He would tread lightly. "Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad." Hopefully this was not something he would come to regret.

"It would seem this place can pluck people out of different eras," she replied, approaching him. "I am from three centuries after your time. We have friends from the far future, as well."

He looked a lot like Desmond, which struck her as curious; Altair was a touch older, of course, and perhaps more rugged, but the familiarity of their faces persisted. That meant, she supposed, he looked like Ezio, too.

"I've heard many stories of your legend, and your legacy. I am very sure my husband will be honoured to meet you, as well... you've influenced him greatly."

"I... see." It didn't make sense, he knew that. He stayed where he was as she drew closer, mind scrambling to make sense of the things he had already learned here. There were others, yes. How foolish could he have been to believe the case was not the same for everyone else here, that they had been taken from their own... 'worlds'? Nodding slowly, he relaxed his hands, uncurled them from their fists.

"My legacy? I have done little to deserve such a note." --Yet, he reminded himself. Centuries after his time, even farther than that. So much to learn, the idea excited him, troubled at his thoughts. He shook his head. "How... much of this place has been searched, do you know?"

"Not yet, perhaps," she noted.

He seemed skittish, but perhaps, she thought, "suspicious" was a better word for Assassins. She regarded him for a moment with a widening smile, noting the beaked hood and remembering having teased Ezio at Masyaf about those menacing hoods.

"The others have begun to explore it," she added, and she gestured at her long green dress, made with the fabrics suited for the upper class. "Unfortunately, I'm little help when it comes to climbing and jumping, but I'm finding my own way to help out."

"Hmm," was the only reply to that small comment. Not yet indeed. The changes in her expression threw him off for a moment but he kept the confusion as far away as possible. A nod to her appearance and the curiosity flashed. He raised a brow to her.

"What sort of ways?" She was a strange woman, not like many of the ones he knew or had associated himself with. She was perhaps brave, or so curious that the fear was negated, ignored. Either way, she was different.

She might've honestly made him feel comfortable if he wasn't so on edge, unused to all of this.

day 001 | OPEN

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