2. In youth we learn, in age we understand

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THE younger ones gave each other a challenging look before they both grabbed their letters. Altaïr being the faster one to open the letter, started skimming over the text written on the thick paper. Clearly the details of the mission didn't matter to him.

"So basically the brotherhood heard that there could be a potential conspiration against the King of Jerusalem and I have to figure out if the rumours are truthful or not?" Altaïr asked looking up from his letter towards the old man who answered him with a simple nod. An arrogant smirk forming on his lips. "Finally a real mission again. I was already getting tired of killing stupid templar knights in the outer cities." The young man filled with joy laughed while waving the letter in his hands in front of Siri.

"And what did you get, little rat? Do you have to make little messenger runs, little rat, or why are you not talking?" He tried to mock her, especially with the ugly nickname he established in their apprentice days. It was true. She usually wasn't the silent-type, but now she just stared at the lines written in front of her. "Let her be Altaïr." The old man tried to cool his bad temper, turning around to one of the shelves behind him. But it was already too late. Altaïr was now fully emerged in his usual element. Meaning to be an annoying and reckless brat.

The young man put his own letter away just to rip Siri's out of her hands, causing her to get out of her trance. "Give it back, you son of a dog!" She cursed at him, jumping and trying to get her letter back from the much taller male who was now holding the letter as high as possible. "Huh, must be a really bad mission if you are making such a scene." He giggled while streching himself even more, trying to get a hold on the jumping female with one hand.

Suddenly he felt a sharp pain on the back of his head and heard something falling to the ground with a loud thud. Someone threw a book at him. "Will you now stop making chaos in my office?!" The old mans angry voice now shouting at the young assassins. In his hand another book, ready to be thrown.

Siri used the moment of Altaïrs perplexity, to snatch her letter back from his hands. "Ouch!" Altaïr cried out touching the spot on his head where to book just hit him. "Do you old geezer even realize how much that hurt?!" The elder slammed to book in his hands back on the table. "Obviously it didn't hurt enough to teach you some respect, young assassin!" The old man uttered with a stern tone.

"Yea, whatever old man." Altaïr answered with clenched teeth. Not wanting to fuel into Altaïrs temper even further, the master just let out a sigh, rolling his eyes. "The youth of today." The older master murmured into his beard and then turning his attention back to his work.

Altaïr gave the master another annoyed look before his eyes tried to find his female company. He couldn't find her in this room, realizing that she must have gone outside again to get some fresh air. Something she usually did when things got heated. He shrugged his shoulders, going through the only door of the room which led to a small hallway and a few other rooms. He entered one of the rooms which was filled with a few cushions and rugs on the ground. With an exhausted noise Altaïr threw himself between the many cushions and closed his eyes. Thats exactly what he needed right now. A good rest.

Meanwhile Siri did just what Altaïr had expected. She was now sitting outside on the roof, her legs hanging down the edge, dangling over the dark alley beneath her feet. Her hands, still holding the letter, laying in her lap while she stared at the scene in front of her. Eyes glued onto the palace which throned over the rest Jerusalem. After a few minutes she let out a deep breath as she looked down. In an impulsive outburst of rage she crumbled up the paper between her hands, forming it into a small ball. She lifted her hand, ready to throw the paper into the night as far as possible, but then she heard wood hitting stone, followed by heavy breathing.

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