castleinthemist | day 001

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day 001 | OPEN

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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Kadar knew those robes. He slowed down a little as he caught site of them, a smile pulling his face up. That was definitely one of the Masyaf Assassins. He studied the Assassin for a long moment, a creeping suspicion moving into his mind. He knew most of the Assassins, and knew of all the Master Assassins, but he had an idea as to the identity of this one.

Kadar dropped down-- rustling a little more than was necessary, perhaps, but it would be better to be called a novice than it would to sneak up on a Master Assassin. Particularly one who wasn't used to being here yet, which seemed likely.

"Hello," he offered.

Like bait, those sounds were caught almost immediately and for it, the assassin's pace did not slow. It continued, but with a raised awareness at whoever it was that had joined him. Soon enough, the sounds grew closer and for it he stopped, waited. The sounds were familiar, but-- this was not home, and the first one to come to mind was a person he had not seen for some time now.

At the greeting, he turned immediately, a hand raised and poised to strike-- instead it stopped before he even extended his arm. Caught, his eyes widened and he stared at the figure, confusion and another emotion tightening at his chest.

It doesn't make sense. "K.. Kadar?" The name leaves his mouth in an almost painful manner.

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?"

Kadar's had some time to deal with his feelings about Altaïr. Yes-- the man is, at least in part, responsible for his death; Kadar knows that Malik holds bitterness towards him because of it, but Kadar... well. Kadar followed Altaïr willingly, and from what he's learned of the future, Altaïr has more than redeemed himself-- so Kadar is glad that he is the one who died, ultimately. The fact that he had more time means that he brightened when he saw Altaïr, taking another step forward.

"Altaïr!" Kadar stopped a few feet away from him. It had been hard enough to convince Desmond and his brother that Kadar wasn't a hallucination-- the last thing he wanted was to spook Altaïr. "Welcome to-- the castle."

This one still believes himself fully responsible for Kadar's death, no matter how much he has changed, tried to. So this was more than unsettling for him. Breath caught in his throat, he turned to face the other fully, unsure of what to believe, understand of what was happening. The younger one came closer and for it, he was tempted to move back to keep the distance. Instead he stayed and heard his voice again, found it more difficult to accept this as a dream with how real it felt.

This was not an illusion, instinct was telling him that.

How unfortunate, one thought rang out. How strange, how.. terrifying this was, almost. He kept composed however, and paid little attention to the welcoming, only to the other.

A step towards him, and he lifted a hand. Gingerly, it settled on that shoulder, barely there. "What? How did..." He cleared his throat. Of all things, he should have been able to make a complete sentence at least!

"--You are alive." Not the most tactful; he scorned himself.

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."

Desmond was a little surprised to find another Assassin in here -- though not too surprised. The white robes were unmistakeable, though, even with the person wearing them facing away from Desmond. Still, there was no telling if he would respond to Desmond favorably, or if he'd react like Malik did.

Desmond started to approach him, but then drew up short and weighed his options. After a moment, he decided to play it safe instead, and lifted his hand in a wave

"Safety and peace!" That should at least mark Desmond out as a friend right away.

"I am." Kadar's smile was gentle. He was getting used to this reaction-- from Desmond. From his brother. He himself had to admit that he had died; that he remembered bleeding on a dirty stone floor, that he remembered hearing his brother's footsteps fade and the vulgar French words from the templars as they left-- or, perhaps, as he fell unconscious. It was hard to tell, from his hazy memories.

"This place has many powers! It brought me back--" and here Kadar faltered, not able, still, to say that this place brought him back to life. "--from the Temple. My brother is here as well, as are many others!"

He decided to leave the entire subject of Desmond alone, for the moment.

"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.

He caught that moment, found the tightness in his chest had refused to leave and instead grew worse. It clenched at the assassin's lungs and reminded him that his own feelings were not of the topic. It was Kadar. He lived, he was breathing there, right in that spot in front of him. How was he to feel, was it a miracle, a warning?

Whatever it was, it was Kadar and for it he stilled. At the mention of Malik however, his thoughts sank in and time caught up with him. He was quiet for a moment, eyes refusing to leave the sight of the younger man. A nod to the words. "...Kadar." His throat was dry.

"I know I cannot take back my actions but, I would be a fool not to ask forgiveness." It still plagued him, and with the reminder of what had happened... Regardless, he wanted to find comfort in knowing Kadar was here, somehow. Things were becoming blurred.

The phrase made him stop.

Those words were familiar and even if it had been days, it was too long since he had heard that small bit of familiarity. The voice failed to register with him however and for it he turned slowly, cautious.

He was quiet as he stepped toward the other. His appearance, it was.. unsettling, somehow. "--And to you," he spoke with a guarded tone. This was strange.

"Who are you? Speak now."

There was not a day that he had not been out and about the strange place. From the upper levels to lower levels he had continued to try to map out the surrounding area that he knew of and try to find other means to further the depth of this place. It was nothing new, it had happened everyday since he had arrived and settled into the place and only settled by means of Malik's own terms, which was not easy for him but having his brother here had helped. In all honesty he had not expected to see the familiar colored robes on the lower levels as he traveled the upper.

A pause and he took in a quiet breath as he looked down towards the man who walked along, narrowing his eyes slightly and keeping watch--to see if this was really true or perhaps some sort of delusion.

A breath in, a breath out.

He sensed another presence. Perhaps it was paranoia or something more, but he was assured that he was not alone in this area. It appeared to be a pattern with the faces he had seen today. A breath in and he lowered his head, thought on what to do. This person did not want to identify who they were to him, but he could hear no string being drawn back, no arrow being prepared of weapon, nothing.

Just.. silence.

To it, he turns barely, as if he was to look back towards where he believed the stranger to be. Instead, he looked forward again, pulled himself up onto a ledge, jumped to the other side. Distance, just in case.

And then he looked behind him, finally.

Altaïr? [That's not Desmond's name, and after a moment he seems to remember that.] --oh. I'm Desmond.

[He hesitates, and then creeps forward several steps. He manages to keep a lot of tension out of his posture, but it's probably still obvious that he's a little guarded. Dealing with Assassin's is tricky.] We haven't met before this, if that's what you're wondering.

The movements of the other were familiar as he knew them well himself. It was right to be cautious and at least the other was seemingly making finer choices in his secrecy but enough looking on. If Malik knew anyone well asides his own brother it was the man down below and once he turned to look back at him, he straightened his posture to show himself from the shadows of the upper levels and look down upon the other with a quiet gaze.

All it took was a simple regard before he turned away and headed back out towards the platform he stood on. Altaïr would know to follow as he was not about to shout at him and make a ruckus, to give him away from his silent and hiding.

A huff of breath and in silence he wondered if he was pleased to see the other man here or simply annoyed that more from his realm continued to show their faces.

Kadar smiled faintly, shaking his head. "That you need to ask for my forgiveness at all means that you deserve it," he said, quietly. It was truth: Altaïr had never been the sort to ask for forgiveness, as far as Kadar knew; he didn't make apologies or excuses, he simply was, in a great whirlwind of power, talent, and-- as much as Kadar overlooked it, and as much as Malik hated it-- arrogance. For him to ask now, and ask so genuinely, Kadar knew it was meant.

"I am sorry that my absence caused you pain," he said, carefully, considering his words for a moment before saying them. "But even so, I do not regret following you into the Temple. I am glad that you could make it out."

The reply silenced him. He searched for the words, tried to make sense but all that came out was nothing. A mere breath and he watched the other. The longer he stood there and spoke with him, the more it sank in that the other was here, living, breathing... Simply here.

Yet what they talked about implied a different situation. "You need not apologize," the reply was low, brief. He could not figure out how to word what it was he wished to say. So he tried to slip away from the topic, shift. "You... are well here?"

His brows furrowed for the slightest moment, caught between regret and concern.

Another familiar face. Whether this was his mind playing tricks or not, he wondered if he should feel relief or concern that the other was here and not back home. Relief that he was alright, perhaps-- but concern for what was happening back where they were originally from. Still, he had time to wonder and question the workings of this place later.

More immediate things caught his eye and for it, he made the choice to follow after the man.

Looking up at him as the dai turned away, he leaped over a structure, moved closer to the last wall he had seen the other standing on. Once to the wall, he scaled it, took care to keep quiet and quick--efficient. Pulling himself up, he searched for the Al-Sayf elder once more, moved after his footfalls once he caught sight.

His name being said has him tense--he does not know the other, and even when his name is given, it does not reassure him in the least. Brows furrowed, he watches the other approach. His left hand clenches into a fist and if Desmond recognizes anything about the assassin, then he realizes what the other may do if the wrong move is made.

"I realize that," the answer is prompt; his eyes never leave the other. "So how do you know of me?"

Hearing the footfalls sync into place with his own he continued to walk forward until he moved to the side, among a cluster of tall, stone pillars that slid up towards the high ceilings which he paused near and turned to face the approaching figure. It would provide a means to mutter voice and allow some secrecy that they were useful. It was strange to see him there, for the while that he had been there he thought he would never catch sight of the other again and with his brother being there he thought it could maybe been some afterlife. Still--he was not a bout to question it right now.

"Altaïr." Came his reply as he looked to the man when he rounded the corner, his eyes narrowing at him and his voice severe but that's how it was. "How long have you been here?"

Oh, Desmond gets it, trust him. He draws himself to a sudden stop, eying Altaïr a little warily. Not that he really expected anything else, but Desmond is at least glad Altaïr isn't as snarly about it as Malik.

"You're kinda famous in the Order," Desmond replies, keeping his tone light and easy. "Even years after the fact."

He continued to keep pace with the other, his mind rushing with thoughts, questions for the other. How long had he been here, how? What did he last remember-- things of that sort, they all came in a rush. With a breath in, he managed to stop himself as the other turned to face him; his pace slowed, then came to a halt. The tone was something he had found relief in to hear, for some reason. Perhaps seeing Kadar had convinced him that he had gone made, lost in all sense.

Nodding his head to the other, his eyes lowered. "A few days, at the most." Pausing, he shifted, gave a glance around to make sure that no one was around, at least no one who was not supposed to hear this conversation. "--I wanted to be sure of myself, before I made myself known."

At times he still felt he was mad, at times he was confused about the entire thing and his brothers presence there did not make it easier to accept. Quietly though, he moved along until his feet came to a halt and he turned his attention fully to the man and conversation at hand. It was all a rush of ideas and concepts but Altaïr was there and while he had cleared things up mildly with him back home that did not mean that the reminder of the pain of the past and his fault was even stronger here now that Kadar was present again in his life, someone he would remain fiercely protective of.

"Then you were wise enough to do that at least." Came his utterance because while he was annoyed at the fact the other took so long to come out of the shadows he could understand his reasoning's.

Watching the other turn, he stayed where he was and halted anything that may have been present whether it was a thought, an action, or even a breath. He realized the possible situation they were in now with Kadar to consider and he understood any possible reactions that may have come hand in hand with it. He would not ignore them, not with what such actions had yielded the first time he had done such a thing. Shifting, he lowered his head, still soon after.

"Is-- there anything I should be aware of?" It was strange, he would say that much, to talk to the other like this, especially with how he had left him the last time words were exchanged. "If my actions have compromised anything already, I would prefer to be told so, dai."

He nearly stumbled over his words, unsure of what he could ask that would not provoke that familiar tone he was accustomed to. So he simply... went forth.

"You as well?" The frustration on his face is mild at that-- already he has spoken to a woman who knows apparently of the things he will go on to do. It concerns him--will knowing these things affect how he performs, will they change anything? A breath in and he raises a brow at the man, shakes his head.

"What business do you have with me, then?"

"Your actions have compromised nothing that I am aware of." Came the quick reply to assure the other in his own harsh manner before leaning against the pillar that kept them hidden from others. It was important to speak quietly because he still enjoyed his privacy, it was something natural that he was used to and with so many strangers lurking he didn't want any ears listening in on them within the hollow chambers.

A breath escaped though and he sighed. "What do you know of already? I'll inform you all I know myself to the best of my abilities."

He almost leaned forward, after the other as if that would hand over the sense of private that was had in that direction. Instead he stayed planted where he was, nodded to the reply. Senses kept open in case someone decided it best to try and listen up their discussion, the question caused him to stir slightly-- he thought on it.

"I have been told about this place, how now much is known but we have been brought here." His hands moved, palms up as he explained, tried to make as much sense of what he had heard. He looked up. "--Malik, I found Kadar."

A pause, reluctance almost. "Or rather, he found me."

Looking to the other his brows furrowed. He knew that Kadar's presence was confusing and he was not one to accept it easily even though the other was his own brother. It created much dilemma in his life but still he looked to the other and kept his gaze before moving on in the conversation, trying not to let it get to him. "I'm not sure what kind of sorcery brought him here but yes, it caused me great confusion as well coming to understand his existence and how it came about in this realm."

Another breath and he looked back out the place. "This realm is filled with magic I am not willing to accept, it's dangerous and so much is not explained."

Alive, dead-- which were they and why now, when they had been so close to resolving things, settling what was needed?

The confusion still kept him on his toes, refused to let him settle and accept anything that has been told to him, despite how it shows on the outside. Magic was the only answer, as he brought up the possible situations that could explain anything. His head lowered in a nod. "We must make do with what we can, magic or not." He knew that was obvious and from the look on his face, he recognized what the other had done here, for as long as he had been here.

"At the least, I am grateful to have some familiarity here among this chaos." His eyes looked back to the dai, he took a breath in. "Search for answers, is that not the idea?"

"As am I." Came the reply. He was content to see familiar faces, even though Altaïr was sometimes the last person he wanted to see. Right now it was all about being brothers, being comrades in such a place and he could not ignore it. He knew the other had been trying to change, which he didn't mind because it's what he wanted him to do despite his distaste for the man at times. Right now Kadar was here so his grumblings could be kept at bay.

"We search until we find something and there is nothing more we can do."

Working together was the best idea, he believed in that. Like the other had told him --one of the more vivid and recent memories he held--they were one and through such things, they would grow stronger, closer. It provided some comfort, but nothing that could truly ease the circumstances of their situation. So in return he hummed, slightly.

"At least we have a goal, lest we are to stumble in obscurity." Turning his eyes elsewhere, he looked around, took in a breath. "Would you look over something for me, dai?"

There was a pause in his breath as the other uttered his last question, only a curt nod as a respond to the first. His brows furrowed as there was a small arch of his brow. "What is it you wish me to see?"

"A map," came the reply just as fast, just as short. He looked to his self for his belongings but remembered where he had left the parchment. A breath in and he exhales. "It is back in my room." He made a motion for the other to walk with him.

"Would you come with me?"

Watching the other--he didn't have to ask twice if it involved a map of sorts. Cartography was quietly Malik's passion and he was good at it, better than most so while he had been trying to map out the facility they were located within, it would be helpful if the other had something to agree with it. Also, if it had something to do with home then it would be interesting to see what he had arrived with on his person. So quietly he moved along and nodded to the other.

"Of course. Lead the way."

A little of the first topic, a little of the second. The map of this area had been something he had sought to do on his own, not knowing he was among company in this place. The second had been to remember home, the path he had been taking, the places he had gone and come from. A pointless trinket almost, if he explained that purpose.

Either way, the other was more skilled with such things than he was; his hand would prove useful and perhaps he himself would yield something that helped the dai. A nod and he began to walk off, back towards the way he had come.

Following the other, he remained quiet and fell into silent steps behind him. His eyes watched the back of his head for that moment before he looked down to the steps the moved downward. The other was a sight for sore eyes, yet on the other hand he would like to know that at least one of them was back home.

An exhale of breath and he moved along to where he directed.

There was little they could do about the matter at home, unfortunately. He shared the similar mindset, chest tight at the idea of how he left things, so sudden, without an ending to what he was about to finish. Still, there were things to focus on here and if he could return home to finish them, if only for a moment, he would.

Making it back to his quarters, he pushed at the door, waited for the other before moving towards a dresser, pulling at a drawer. Grabbing for a parchment, he unrolled it on the nearby table, watched the other. "This is what I have so far." A motion for him to come closer.

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day 001 | OPEN

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