Assassin's Creed High-School

This Is What Snooping Gets You

MASYAF
1197, Kamryn Morris
Age 31
‘IMPASSE'

Tightening my grip on one of the many flying buttresses, one leg is raised and dangled precariously over the edge, a slight breeze clawing needily at my clothing, urging me forward; wanting to drag me down into death’s cold and unforgiving embrace.
It was remarkable, the calmness slithering through my veins, failing to warn me of the seriousness of what I was intending to carry out. No hesitation. No fear. The taste of freedom, teasing the tip of my tongue with its promising sweetness, deciding the outcome for me. One by one fingers unfurl, unhesitant, accepting the decision which can no longer be changed. Closing my eyes, I exhale a long and shaky breath and lean forwards.

“That's enough, Kamryn!"

That voice...

With my plans momentarily interrupted, I have no other option but to turn and confront the man responsible for my current predicament: Al Mualim.
Accompanying our so-called leader are three of my fellow Assassin's; they, too, wish to see me punished. In their eyes resides an unbridled hatred our Brotherhood normally possess when encountering a devoted member of the Templar Order, never one of their own.

But I was no longer one of them.

Despite having plausible reasons for my actions, the entirety of the Creed still believed I was deserving of punishment. To be tortured and shamed until they grow tired of their torment and finally decided to end my pitiful life.

Al Mualim looked upon me as though I were nothing more than the hardened mud caught in the sole of his boot. “I cannot abide a traitor.”

“And I cannot abide serving under a man who speaks of principles yet possesses none.”

“You forget to whom you speak, girl.” He thinks nothing of the consequences as he takes a few steps closer, forcing my feet to slide backwards until the heel of my boots hang precariously over the stone ledge. “Our Creed means nothing if we do not obey its tenets; perhaps you have forgotten-”

“I did not break any of our tenets,” I argued despite knowing that my words fell upon deaf ears.

“You stole from the Creed! From your own Brother's, and for what?”

“To save my child.” My voice rings loud and clear across the rooftop. “And I do not regret my decision.”

“Child?” He laughed, a cruel, disparaging sound. “That abomination of the womb? Allah prognosticated your betrayal and saw to it that you be punished accordingly.”

My blood boiled at his insensitivity towards my child, but I was smart enough to understand not to react – he was simply baiting me, wanting me to step down from this ledge and into his damnation. “Punished? Allah favours me, Al Mualim; with His guiding hand, I was able to procure the item required in the rehabilitation of my son and give him chance at a better future.”

“And by doing so, you have destroyed yours.” He held up a hand, a signal for the trio flanking him to advance. “Give back to us the Shroud and we shall be lenient in your punishment.”

“Your hands shall never again come in contact with the Shroud; it is long gone. Hidden away from all those whom would abuse its power.”

The leader of the Brotherhood actually looks surprised. Or is that...enraged? Perhaps it was both.

“Who gave you the right to make that choice?!”

“No one. I simply took it.”

Even with the distance between us, I could see the froth beginning to spread throughout his mouth.  Pupils dilated and trembling with raw insanity; the man had willingly succumbed to the power of these ancient artefacts. Hours upon hours he had wasted, hunched in his private chambers, cradling something known as the ‘Apple' as though it were a fragile infant in need of nurture. And now he sought the Shroud. Why he would want or have any use for such an item was beyond my comprehension, but I knew that in order to save lives, it needed to be taken away and hidden – no mortal should fool themselves into believing they were capable of possessing the power of a God.

“Insolent harlot!” He bellowed, spittle spraying through the air like that of a rabid mongrel.

I smirked, just a brief quirk of the lips, and held out both arms, just like I do right before a leap of faith. “Arak fe al-hayya kadima (See you in the next life), Al Mualim.” 

And I fell backwards into death's embrace.

Desynchronization.

Warning. Warning. Unknown error has occurred. Searching for new memory. Memory not found.

DNA scan in process...loading...loading...error.

DNA unrecognizable.

Error...error...error...