The Escapist Fanfic Thread...
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Might be because im capped. things dont tend to work when im capped.HG131 said:Weird, try again. It works for me.boris the sprinkler said:The site you linked doesnt work for me.HG131 said:
also i looked it up on tvtropes.
*shudders*
I write fanfic because I really enjoy writing, but cannot often get into my own original stories. I like to work with worlds that are already created, and I just put the characters in different situations and play with their character development. I think it will be a good jumping off point for me if I ever decide to persue being an author.
By the way, has anyone happened on the Assassin's Creed section of fanfiction.net? I just find it funny that it's completly FULL of slash pairings, especially when for the majority of both games, you are in time periods that frown on being homosexual. But then again, the forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest, it would seem.
EDIT: I forgot to answer the question.
I write Assassin's Creed fanfic (Which is why I know about that section on fanfiction.net) But aren't entirly confortable putting my account up, just because some of the stuff is rather... mature.
By the way, has anyone happened on the Assassin's Creed section of fanfiction.net? I just find it funny that it's completly FULL of slash pairings, especially when for the majority of both games, you are in time periods that frown on being homosexual. But then again, the forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest, it would seem.
EDIT: I forgot to answer the question.
I write Assassin's Creed fanfic (Which is why I know about that section on fanfiction.net) But aren't entirly confortable putting my account up, just because some of the stuff is rather... mature.
It's not like it's hard to find it. Just searched your nickname and found it. ;pgoogleit6 said:I write fanfic because I really enjoy writing, but cannot often get into my own original stories. I like to work with worlds that are already created, and I just put the characters in different situations and play with their character development. I think it will be a good jumping off point for me if I ever decide to persue being an author.
By the way, has anyone happened on the Assassin's Creed section of fanfiction.net? I just find it funny that it's completly FULL of slash pairings, especially when for the majority of both games, you are in time periods that frown on being homosexual. But then again, the forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest, it would seem.
EDIT: I forgot to answer the question.
I write Assassin's Creed fanfic (Which is why I know about that section on fanfiction.net) But aren't entirly confortable putting my account up, just because some of the stuff is rather... mature.
Might as well. This is the first chapter I wrote of a fanfic that explores what happened right after the end of Assassin's Creed. It forks off into a little bit of an alternate universe by the end of the chapter, though.HG131 said:
A lone figure perched on the highest rooftop in Masyaf. His legs dangled into the space below him, at a dizzying height. A soft wind was blowing, making the tassels of his robe sway. He appeared to be lost in his own mind, a slight grimace at the corners of his mouth. His dark and troubled eyes were unfocused as they tried to solidify the images his mind provided him with. Had someone from the ground looked up, he would have been seen as a large eagle, perhaps. Especially with the sun behind him now, throwing his profile into shadow. He was so far gone from the world around him, that he at first didn't hear the figure behind speak his name. His name had to have been called twice before he even registered the presence of someone else.
"Master,"
Startled, the figure looked up.
"Malik," He greeted in his usual, solemn way, hiding the twinge of annoyance that he felt as he realised he was being interrupted. "Please use my name, not my title."
"My apologies, Altaïr. You know we use that title only to show respect for you, not to show the inferiority of ourselves."
"Yes, I know, but being called 'Master' has left a bad taste in my mouth, and it will always be that way, I am sure." Altaïr said neutrally, referring to the one who was last called "Master" and what his intentions for the Brotherhood ?The Holy Land- were.
"Once again, I extend my apologies."
"It is of no consequence. What have you sought me out for?"
Malik cleared his throat awkwardly. Although Altaïr had asked everyone to use his name, not his title, he was still referred to as "Master" when Altaïr himself was not around. "Ah? Altaïr, myself and the other assassins were just searching for you. You have seemed troubled lately, and while it is a time to mourn, it is also a time to celebrate. You have purged The Holy Land of one who had nothing but malevolent intentions, and in the process, have become Master of the Assassins yourself. And, if I may say, I have heard many people speak of you and refer to you as 'The Great One'.
Altaïr's face was hidden by his hood as he stood up and half-turned around to face Malik, so Malik could not see the small, self indulgent smile that Altaïr allowed on his face for a fraction of a second, if that.
"I am by no means, 'The Great One', Malik. There were many before me, and I am sure there will be many after, who are far more deserving of the title than I. As for yours and the other assassin's concerns, I thank you for the sentiments. There is something troubling me, and I apologize for not being very attentive to you and the others. But this matter is pressing, and I feel that I must understand it and gain knowledge from the situation as soon as possible."
Malik was quiet for a minute, digesting what he had heard. Although Altaïr had always been a thoughtful individual, even more so since he had been stripped of his ranks by their former traitorous leader, Al Mualim, Malik had sensed that Altaïr had been even more secretive than usual, which made him nervous. Although he would never admit it to anybody, he questioned Altaïr's ability to lead the assassins, not because of lack of skill, but because of lack of communication. As Malik contemplated this, another thought occurred to him at that moment, and it made him even more uneasy. Al Mualim had been just as secretive as Altaïr was being at the moment, and though Malik knew Altaïr well, everyone had been living with a sense of paranoia since Al Mualim's true intentions had been revealed. Altaïr had only been Master of the Assassins for a week, and he had been even quieter than usual.
Malik chewed on this new thought, and as he did, Altaïr turned away from him and sat down again, his conscious presence being swept away into his own mind again. Malik panicked, knowing that Altaïr would not appreciate being interrupted again. But, as Altaïr seemed so intent on keeping his rank as merely a formality, Malik decided he could venture a possible taboo question. He had heard from witnesses, that when Altaïr had questioned Al Mualim as he was assassinating all of Al Mualim's partners, his master had mislead him and reprimanded him for asking anything that seemed to give Altaïr too much knowledge in the situation.
Malik knew that Altaïr was different, knew that he truly had the Creed's best interests at heart, but he felt that he needed to hear Altaïr's verbal verification that Malik's fears were preposterous.
Nervously, Malik cleared his throat, trying to attract Altaïr's attention. As per usual, Altaïr didn't answer, as he was too far gone into his own head.
"Altaïr." He said it clearly this time, intending to break the wall that Altaïr had built around his thoughts, to protect them from the outside world.
"Yes, Malik?" Malik heard the sigh in Altaïr's voice, and ignored it.
"Altaïr, forgive my boldness, but as atrocious as this sounds, my concerns must be put to rest."
"What are your concerns, Malik? Please, do not hold back." Altaïr replied, his voice as even as ever.
"I? am worried. I will sound insane, as I am sure these thoughts are, but I must say?" Malik took a deep breath, "At this time, you reflect Al Mualim in your secrecy. You will not say what is bothering you, and I know you would never act as selfishly or as deviously as Al Mualim, but, I am loathe to say, this secrecy could hurt your good intentions as a leader."
Malik braced himself, shocked at his own daring.
Altaïr still did not face him, so Malik had no idea what his reaction was to his small speech. Tension hung in the air, and Malik feared that, not only would Altaïr berate him, but he would build the wall again, and this time, it would be permanent and infallible.
To Malik's intense surprise, when Altaïr spoke, he did not sound angry, or even offended. In fact, he sounded? grateful?
"Join me, Malik," Altaïr invited, still without looking at him.
With a quiet shuffling of robes, Malik was sitting beside Altaïr, their twin boots dangling the same height from the ground below.
They sat in silence for a minute, each assassin gathering his own thoughts.
"I agree with everything you said, Malik," Altaïr said quietly, feeling Malik's incredulous eyes on him."
Malik remained silent, waiting for Altaïr to continue.
"Malik, this past week has been tumultuous, whether any of the other assassin's noticed or not. Taking Al Mualim's position has been difficult, and I can sense the fear and confusion in the air. After being betrayed by one leader, how can you trust another so soon? Yes, I have heard the rumours about myself, being referred to as 'The Great One' you spoke of moments ago. Yet, the people who spread them seem to be awed and fearful at the same time. After being used like playthings, I completely understand their unease. However, that is not the main reason for my silence.
After I defeated Al Mualim, the Apple of Eden was to be mine to destroy. With no other thought in my mind, I sought to demolish it. My intentions were so clearly portrayed across my face as I made my way towards the Apple. When I was close enough to deliver the first blow, however, I was held back by something I have no words to describe. I heard Al Mualim's voice in my head, still so attached to this world, taunting me, asking me why I did not have the will to forever remove its presence from the earth. Hearing his jeers merely strengthened my resolve to be done with this piece of evil once and for all. Truly, I tried. I felt myself walking nearer to it, saw in my head the picture of myself raising my blade and slicing it in two.
But I could not. Every resolve of strength I had fled from me, into the Apple, it seemed. All of my will gone in a moment, all of the resolve I had to destroy it. It was as if nothing was wrong with the world. Golden voices were murmuring, urging me forward. They promised so much, and they sounded so genuine. It was a physical pull as I was bathed in the otherworldly substance the Apple produced. Everything was right, and everything was beautiful. Why would I stay in a place as desolate as our world, when I could make my own world with the Apple? The sweet, chiming voices told me that my every wish would be granted, my every desire fulfilled. And I saw- I saw?"
Altaïr broke off at that moment. To Malik's immense surprise, he seemed to be composing himself. Altaïr looked away, coughing awkwardly. Malik glanced in the other direction, out of respect. What could Altaïr have seen that would generate such a strong response?
After a few moments, Altaïr had calmed down enough to continue.
"I saw Adha in the Apple. She beckoned me, called to me. In that moment, it felt like nothing else the Apple had shown me could match the sight of Adha inviting me into her arms again, forgiving me for not? for not saving her on time. Eventually, she disappeared, as it appeared that the Apple had other plans.
"As I looked into the picture it projected, I found myself entranced. Everything around me disappeared, save the Apple. The map seemed to go on forever, revealing locations of what I can only guess to be other Pieces of Eden. I don't remember when I came to my senses, I do not remember why or how I came to my senses, either. All I knew was that I could not destroy that Piece of Eden. At the time, I told myself that it would be a waste to get rid of it, that I would be losing an opportunity to study something so extremely rare. I knew then, and I know now, how absurd those assertions were. The only reason I kept it, was because I had no other options. I could not bring myself to harm it. It was like an ethereal gift, constantly whispering to me, sweetly asking me to use it to finish Al Mualim's work. I was so tempted. I almost gave in to its soft caresses of persuasion.
Somehow though, I managed to regain my sense of self again, though it was no small feat. As I turned my back on that wretched, evil object, I saw? things."
Altaïr abruptly broke off again, and Malik immediately got the impression that, this time, he had no plans to continue.
"Altaïr," Malik said quietly, nervously. "You say that when you looked into the Apple, you were alone?"
At Altaïr's slight nod, Malik felt his already uneasy stomach drop.
"You hadn't noticed me and my men then?"
"What?" Altaïr rounded on Malik, his expression bewildered. With half of his face in shadow, Altaïr looked almost like a statue. One half of his face was strong willed and curious, and the other was something the devil himself had conjured up, all hard lines and flashing eyes. Good versus evil. As Malik studied Altaïr's face, he realized he couldn't tell which one was which. Altaïr had always been one to blur lines.
"You never acknowledged us, but we were there. What you just described, I saw as well. A map containing fictitious land masses- or maybe not? I am not sure as to why the Apple affected you this way. Yes, I was compelled to be near it, to own it, to use it against fellow man. But I feel that you had a much more personal connection, on a deeper level, perhaps?"
"That is strange," Altaïr murmured, gazing towards the glowing horizon, having regained control of himself. "Al Mualim specifically said that I could not be influenced so easily, that who I am and what I do was so intimately intertwined that he could not rob me of my mind as he had done to other men. He even told me that he tried to gain control over me once, but that his attempt failed."
"I apologize, Altaïr. It seems that I have given you more questions than answers." Malik said, his voice carrying on the breeze.
"No, Malik. I am not Al Mualim. You are allowed to freely question. To truly be an assassin, you must have knowledge about the ever growing world around you. To have knowledge, you must ask questions. You must trade ideas with those around you. Learn of other's perspectives and let others learn of yours."
"Thank you, Altaïr." Altaïr's slight reprimand had made Malik wonder. As Altaïr himself was asking more questions of Al Mualim, and having none answered truly in the process, his confidence in honesty must have been severely shaken. Was that why he suddenly put such emphasis on open truth telling?
The sun was going down now. Its last feeble rays mixed in with the indigo black of the night, creating a strange, otherworldly contrast.
"The world is so different than we once knew, Malik," Altaïr said with traces of longing in his voice. "Things have changed so much already, and I feel it is only the beginning."
They sat in silence for a few minutes, each man thinking.
"Altaïr, what did you see when you turned from the Apple?" Malik asked, hoping Altaïr would be ready to continue.
Altaïr grimaced, but he began to explain.
"When I turned away from the Apple? when I ignored its wishes and turned away from everything it was offering me, the world beyond the golden light of the Piece of Eden turned ugly. In that instant, I truly thought I had seen the world for what it really was. Al Mualim told me I had seen through the illusion. When I saw what was outside the reach of the Piece of Eden, I thought him a liar. What I thought I was seeing now was the world with nothing to cloud my judgement. Anger and greed fought for dominance, men looked at women who weren't their wives with lust, men who were perceived as good were hidden away in a cellar, trying to find a way to use their benevolent façade to their own advantage.
To this day, Malik, I do not know if what the Apple showed me was true. I do not want to believe Al Mualim, or his beloved Piece of Eden. Did I truly see through the illusion when Al Mualim tried to control me as his own? Did the Piece of Eden show me the world for what it really is? Why did I have such a strong reaction to the Apple, compared to you and your men?
These questions, and more, have been pursuing me all week. I do not know how to understand this Apple. It is so unique, yet there might be more scattered throughout The Holy Land and beyond. What if someone were to stumble on an Apple through no fault of their own? What monstrosities would be released then?"
Malik felt his shoulders sag as Altaïr's burden was now shared with him. So much information for one person. For one Creed even.
"We have so many questions and no answers," Altaïr said, a quiet frustration underlining his words. Malik made no reply, as much at a loss as Altaïr.
The two stared at nothing, and thought. Altaïr, about the Apple. Malik, about Altaïr. He was feeling ashamed of his prejudiced assumptions of Altaïr's intentions. No wonder the Master had been quiet about his musings. To admit to such a strange weakness took courage, although if there was one thing Malik had never doubted about Altaïr, it was his courage.
But such a strange weakness it was. To be affected by the Apple so strongly, so persistently. Suddenly, proclamations of Altaïr being "The Great One" didn't seem so preposterous. What "The Great One" was destined for, Malik had no idea, but to resist such a temptation and continue to resist it as Altaïr had described, must be some sort of divine test- and Altaïr had passed. A divine gift, it was now.
Although Malik had always been quiet about it, as his beliefs would surely make him be ridiculed by the other assassins for it, he had always felt that there was something more out there, some knowledge that was unknown to the mortal beings confined to Earth. Whether it be a God and Satan, or a heaven and hell, or even just a higher plane of being, Malik was unwilling to admit that it was all for nothing. He knew Altaïr did not share his beliefs, which would probably be why he would end up torturing himself, trying to figure out why he was so different, when Malik knew that he could account all of Altaïr's strange experiences to divine intervention.
"Have you come upon any conclusions?" Malik asked.
"Each is more absurd than the last." Altaïr responded, frustration coloring his voice. He turned away from Malik, looking towards the horizon again. Ever since that Piece of Eden had played a part in his life, things kept getting more complicated.
However much Altaïr preached to Malik about knowledge, ignorance was what he had learned. Years of following Al Mualim had proven that. In the eyes of many, assassins could be considered the most ignorant of classes. Following a leader solely because you were told to, putting all of your faith into one person, was exactly what led to the cataclysmic events of a week ago. Blind faith.
Was this how people felt about Altaïr now? Was he just another face to fill the void of a leader? Altaïr knew that someone had to lead, and he also knew that he was an obvious choice, considering the events of last week. As Al Mualim had stated, peace was what the Templars sought, albeit not at the consent of the people of the Holy Land. Altaïr wanted peace, but with the tensions between the Assassins and the Templars, true tranquility could never be achieved- not even to mention the other battles going on at the present time.
Nobody would- or could- ever truly achieve peace.
It was a hard thing to swallow, but the conviction that the thought brought with it told Altaïr all that he needed to know.
"Malik, do you think the Holy Land will ever be able to live as one?"
Altaïr watched Malik as he contemplated this.
"I think," Malik stated softly, "that whatever the answer to that question is-and I cannot give you an answer-we have to try to achieve it. That is what our Creed exists for- to promote peace. Our means by which we attempt to achieve it may be contradictory, but our goals are noble and just."
"We share the same goals with the Templars, and the ways they attempt to achieve it are contradictory as well. Who are we to say that their methods are so much more blasphemous than ours?"
"Listen to yourself, Altaïr!" Malik exclaimed, "You know as well as I, that the Templars are after power. We-" as he said it, he gestured between himself and Altaïr, "are after free will. We fight for others who cannot fight for themselves. We fight for the ability to think what we please!"
"Malik," Altaïr said wearily, "The world is full of contradictions. What you have just said is full of contradictions." At Malik's protests, Altaïr merely held up his hand to silence the man. "We fight for free will. Is that, in itself, not a contradiction? If everyone else may have free will, does that not include the Templars?"
"Of course it does not include the Templars! Free will is taken from those who plan to covet other's free will for themselves."
"So we will take free will from the Templars as a punishment for their planning to take free will from others?" As Altaïr asked Malik this question, his eyes were so hopeless. It struck a chord with Malik, who remembered feeling like that as he learned to deal with having a single arm. Absently, he tried to move his left arm, and was rewarded with only a twitch from what was left of his shoulder. Malik looked up, only to find that Altaïr was staring at his attempts to move a non-existent arm. Embarrassed, Malik looked away from Altaïr, into the dark night.
Altaïr continued to stare where Malik's left arm used to be. Although he and Malik had made amends, Altaïr was still tormented by Kadar's death, and the loss he had forced upon Malik. As a good assassin, Altaïr was supposed to make peace with his mistakes, but when lives of those Altaïr cared about were at stake; the guilt lingered with him much longer than it had with the deaths of unknown, innocent people. Much of the time, Altaïr wondered if he would ever forgive himself. He even wondered if Malik would ever truly forgive him, although he had, many times, assured Altaïr of his forgiveness. Somewhere far below the surface, however, Altaïr knew that Malik was still mourning the loss of his brother, and his arm. He would never mention it again, especially with Altaïr as Master of the Assassins, but Altaïr still sometimes felt subconscious animosity emitting from Malik.
"We have to do what we feel is right," Malik told Altaïr. "We are fighting for what we believe. We band together as brothers and sisters to face a great enemy, and we work to rid the world of them, for the betterment of mankind. We work not for ourselves, but for the people," A slight, sad smirk tugged at the corners of Malik's mouth as he added, "Because the people can't fight for themselves."
Altaïr had a sudden vision of himself walking around a walled city, only to find that he would have circled all the way around, having learned nothing of a possible entryway. Somewhere in that city, the answers which Altaïr sought were present, waiting for someone to find a way over its seemingly infallible barricade. The city was unwilling to give up its secrets, even to the Master of the Assassins. If only they could find a way to get someone on the inside, like they had done so many times before. If someone could give them insight, even to point them in a general direction. But this city was highly unpopulated, as only the greatest minds had ever found a way to climb the foolproof walls. Once you were in, Altaïr had the feeling that you wouldn't want to leave, or you couldn't. True enlightenment was not sought after by the weak of heart and mind.
Altaïr brooded silently, while Malik focused on the height he was sitting at, on the wind on his face, and the sight of the white, full moon. Anything but what Altaïr was contemplating.
Unfortunately, Altaïr was merely staring in consternation at the city's walls in front of him. His thoughts were churning sluggishly, mixing together and settling another mist of utter hopelessness upon him. There was so much to change, and yet so little seemed to be able to be done about it. Were things even ready for these changes? How long would it take for them to happen? Ten years? One hundred? One thousand? What could Altaïr personally do? It was all so impossible, so out of reach.
"What are your thoughts, Malik?" Altaïr spoke into the stillness of the night, startling Malik. Truth be told, Altaïr was tired of having to sleep each night when he was making no progress with his persistent thoughts and worries. Sharing his ideas, if it would change anything, would at least open up the possibility that there was a solution out there, and Altaïr just hadn't figured it out.
"Regarding what, Altaïr?"
"Everything our conversation has touched upon tonight."
Malik didn't know if his master could sense it, but on the surface of things-as he had been unwilling to look any deeper- he was at just as much of a loss as Altaïr.
"I am regretful to say that I have no additional insights to offer you, Altaïr."
Malik watched as a flash of disappointment flashed across his master's face. He covered it up quickly, though, and spoke.
"I have a strange feeling tonight, Malik. With everything that has happened in the last year, I would have thought that defeating Al Mualim would mark the ending of my journey. In that moment, after the death of Al Mualim and before my supposed destroying of the Apple, before doubt was instilled upon my mind, I felt as though I was truly enlightened. I was wrong, which makes me ask yet another question I feel will not be answered for a long while. Does true enlightenment even exist? Or are the planes of knowledge infinite? As we arm ourselves with intelligence, and deem each other superior or inferior to ourselves, is there any one man or woman who is truly enlightened? And what would that entail, exactly? As our world is such a subjective place, is enlightenment achieved only when you have become fully objective? Is enlightenment different for each person?"
Altaïr paused to take a breath, and Malik felt himself rather dizzy. He found himself wondering if Altaïr ever just wanted to detach himself from his thoughts, and just be for a while.
"I apologize," Altaïr continued, "What I meant to say, regarding the strange atmosphere surrounding us tonight, was that tonight feels like a beginning. However desolate and hopeless I have seemed, I believe something good is starting here. The strangest thing about it though, was that the premonition itself was extremely sudden and clear. Maybe all is not lost, Malik. This strange feeling still lingers inside me, and every time I start to feel like all is lost, a pulse of hope is dispersed throughout my being."
Malik's head was swimming. He felt that Altaïr himself was the strange atmosphere he kept talking about. The master's complete one hundred eighty degree shift in thinking was unbelievably odd. It had happened in a matter of seconds.
Although he had not given it permission, a thought popped into Malik's head at that moment, causing him to cast Altaïr a swift, sideways glance. It made him uncomfortable, although the notion itself wasn't entirely painful. Malik knew to keep this thought to himself, however, as Altaïr would deem it completely unfathomable.
Had some outside force taken pity on Altaïr, giving him a sense of hope? Was the God that Malik treaded ever so carefully around offering to help Altaïr? Was that the palpable shift in the atmosphere? Divine intervention?
If Altaïr had, indeed been chosen as "The Great One", would whoever bestowed this upon him want to give him incentive to continue with his questioning? With the almost inevitable journey that would be the end result of this conversation?
Automatically, Malik looked towards the sky when he thought of any higher power. Were the stars a little bit brighter? Did the clouds form any specific shape, offering a sign? Would the wind blow in a different direction?
Malik waited for a few moments, and nothing out of the ordinary happened. Put out, but not surprised, Malik cast a glance Altaïr's way.
"How do you propose we proceed, then?" Malik asked. Altaïr met his eyes an answered.
"I said that tonight feels like a beginning, Malik. We must put our thoughts into action, incomplete as they are. I have been isolating myself for too long, and I believe that no further thought will help me understand the great mystery that this world is. I have experiences to be gained, lessons to be learned, and knowledge to be taught. However, you must understand that the path we are beginning our trek upon is going to be a treacherous and unpredictable one. There are many questions to be answered, and many lands to travel." Altaïr stopped suddenly, coming to a surprising but inevitable realization. As Malik looked on, he saw something akin to muted excitement wash over Altaïr's usually emotionless expression.
"What is it, Altaïr?" Malik asked, getting gladly caught up in the much less depressing and extraordinary overtones that had been hovering over their earlier conversation.
"My journey will start soon, and I must select an assassin to take my place as Master of the Assassins."
Malik was stunned.
"Are you? sure, Altaïr? You are going to take on this extraordinary journey on your own?"
Altaïr paused a moment in his very toned down excitement, and was silent for a moment.
"I just spoke of not isolating myself anymore?" He began in a much more serious tone. "And yet here I sit, mere seconds later, telling of how I will set off on an extended journey alone. That seems rather controversial, does it not?"
Malik didn't respond, but just listened, knowing that this was leading somewhere.
"Would you like to accompany me on these travels?" Altaïr asked bluntly.
Malik was too stunned to really think about what Altaïr was asking, and replied with the first thing that came to mind.
"What about the other assassins? You are our leader. What would become of them?"
"Do not worry over such things, Malik. I have hardly had the chance to grow accustomed to the life of leadership, and I know of many suitable candidates to permanently take my place as Master of the Assassins." Altaïr had not meant to sound so severe, but it came across that way, as he was internally stressing over Malik's answer to his first question.
"Why have you asked this of me?" Malik questioned, truly curious. He wondered if the choice was actually his to make, or if Altaïr was merely framing it as a question because it would persuade him more easily.
"For many reasons, Malik, and one of them is of my utter faith in you. I trust you implicitly. I have also shared this information tonight with no one but yourself, and I appreciate your concern for me. My most significant reason, though, is that I would enjoy your company, and I consider you a good friend, Malik."
Whatever Malik had been expecting, it was not that. He was warmed by the thought, though, of having an ally- not in the sense of the Brotherhood itself, but of having a true companion to confide in, and let the bonds of the Creed slacken just a little bit when they were in each other's company, as they did not have to worry about offending each other so much as the Brothers speaking among themselves would.
"So this decision is truly mine to make?" Malik asked hesitantly, not wanting to offend his? friend.
"Of course," Altaïr answered simply, the corners of his mouth turning upwards the slightest bit.
"I would be honoured." Malik answered. Altaïr's hidden smile became a full one, and Malik's mirrored that as the primal instinct of men-against-the-world kicked in.
The two friends sat side by side on the rooftop, in the dark night of Masyaf. They did not speak, but were connected. The concept of friendship in the Creed was not a new one, although it was a rare one. Assassins had always been taught to keep unnecessary emotions beneath the surface, to remain as indifferent as possible. When friendships spawned, it often created tensions among the Brotherhood, as some were scornful, and others were envious, but silent about it.
Malik and Altaïr sat in silence for much longer. They didn't so much think about the reason they would be leaving Masyaf, but the fact that they would be leaving together, in a true sign of comradeship. Worries about the Apple and the Templars were still present, but more of mosquito bites than that of a horse fly.
And for the rest of the night, thoughts of a warm and inviting nature were played in both assassins' heads, ignoring the storm that was inevitably gathering around them.
"Master,"
Startled, the figure looked up.
"Malik," He greeted in his usual, solemn way, hiding the twinge of annoyance that he felt as he realised he was being interrupted. "Please use my name, not my title."
"My apologies, Altaïr. You know we use that title only to show respect for you, not to show the inferiority of ourselves."
"Yes, I know, but being called 'Master' has left a bad taste in my mouth, and it will always be that way, I am sure." Altaïr said neutrally, referring to the one who was last called "Master" and what his intentions for the Brotherhood ?The Holy Land- were.
"Once again, I extend my apologies."
"It is of no consequence. What have you sought me out for?"
Malik cleared his throat awkwardly. Although Altaïr had asked everyone to use his name, not his title, he was still referred to as "Master" when Altaïr himself was not around. "Ah? Altaïr, myself and the other assassins were just searching for you. You have seemed troubled lately, and while it is a time to mourn, it is also a time to celebrate. You have purged The Holy Land of one who had nothing but malevolent intentions, and in the process, have become Master of the Assassins yourself. And, if I may say, I have heard many people speak of you and refer to you as 'The Great One'.
Altaïr's face was hidden by his hood as he stood up and half-turned around to face Malik, so Malik could not see the small, self indulgent smile that Altaïr allowed on his face for a fraction of a second, if that.
"I am by no means, 'The Great One', Malik. There were many before me, and I am sure there will be many after, who are far more deserving of the title than I. As for yours and the other assassin's concerns, I thank you for the sentiments. There is something troubling me, and I apologize for not being very attentive to you and the others. But this matter is pressing, and I feel that I must understand it and gain knowledge from the situation as soon as possible."
Malik was quiet for a minute, digesting what he had heard. Although Altaïr had always been a thoughtful individual, even more so since he had been stripped of his ranks by their former traitorous leader, Al Mualim, Malik had sensed that Altaïr had been even more secretive than usual, which made him nervous. Although he would never admit it to anybody, he questioned Altaïr's ability to lead the assassins, not because of lack of skill, but because of lack of communication. As Malik contemplated this, another thought occurred to him at that moment, and it made him even more uneasy. Al Mualim had been just as secretive as Altaïr was being at the moment, and though Malik knew Altaïr well, everyone had been living with a sense of paranoia since Al Mualim's true intentions had been revealed. Altaïr had only been Master of the Assassins for a week, and he had been even quieter than usual.
Malik chewed on this new thought, and as he did, Altaïr turned away from him and sat down again, his conscious presence being swept away into his own mind again. Malik panicked, knowing that Altaïr would not appreciate being interrupted again. But, as Altaïr seemed so intent on keeping his rank as merely a formality, Malik decided he could venture a possible taboo question. He had heard from witnesses, that when Altaïr had questioned Al Mualim as he was assassinating all of Al Mualim's partners, his master had mislead him and reprimanded him for asking anything that seemed to give Altaïr too much knowledge in the situation.
Malik knew that Altaïr was different, knew that he truly had the Creed's best interests at heart, but he felt that he needed to hear Altaïr's verbal verification that Malik's fears were preposterous.
Nervously, Malik cleared his throat, trying to attract Altaïr's attention. As per usual, Altaïr didn't answer, as he was too far gone into his own head.
"Altaïr." He said it clearly this time, intending to break the wall that Altaïr had built around his thoughts, to protect them from the outside world.
"Yes, Malik?" Malik heard the sigh in Altaïr's voice, and ignored it.
"Altaïr, forgive my boldness, but as atrocious as this sounds, my concerns must be put to rest."
"What are your concerns, Malik? Please, do not hold back." Altaïr replied, his voice as even as ever.
"I? am worried. I will sound insane, as I am sure these thoughts are, but I must say?" Malik took a deep breath, "At this time, you reflect Al Mualim in your secrecy. You will not say what is bothering you, and I know you would never act as selfishly or as deviously as Al Mualim, but, I am loathe to say, this secrecy could hurt your good intentions as a leader."
Malik braced himself, shocked at his own daring.
Altaïr still did not face him, so Malik had no idea what his reaction was to his small speech. Tension hung in the air, and Malik feared that, not only would Altaïr berate him, but he would build the wall again, and this time, it would be permanent and infallible.
To Malik's intense surprise, when Altaïr spoke, he did not sound angry, or even offended. In fact, he sounded? grateful?
"Join me, Malik," Altaïr invited, still without looking at him.
With a quiet shuffling of robes, Malik was sitting beside Altaïr, their twin boots dangling the same height from the ground below.
They sat in silence for a minute, each assassin gathering his own thoughts.
"I agree with everything you said, Malik," Altaïr said quietly, feeling Malik's incredulous eyes on him."
Malik remained silent, waiting for Altaïr to continue.
"Malik, this past week has been tumultuous, whether any of the other assassin's noticed or not. Taking Al Mualim's position has been difficult, and I can sense the fear and confusion in the air. After being betrayed by one leader, how can you trust another so soon? Yes, I have heard the rumours about myself, being referred to as 'The Great One' you spoke of moments ago. Yet, the people who spread them seem to be awed and fearful at the same time. After being used like playthings, I completely understand their unease. However, that is not the main reason for my silence.
After I defeated Al Mualim, the Apple of Eden was to be mine to destroy. With no other thought in my mind, I sought to demolish it. My intentions were so clearly portrayed across my face as I made my way towards the Apple. When I was close enough to deliver the first blow, however, I was held back by something I have no words to describe. I heard Al Mualim's voice in my head, still so attached to this world, taunting me, asking me why I did not have the will to forever remove its presence from the earth. Hearing his jeers merely strengthened my resolve to be done with this piece of evil once and for all. Truly, I tried. I felt myself walking nearer to it, saw in my head the picture of myself raising my blade and slicing it in two.
But I could not. Every resolve of strength I had fled from me, into the Apple, it seemed. All of my will gone in a moment, all of the resolve I had to destroy it. It was as if nothing was wrong with the world. Golden voices were murmuring, urging me forward. They promised so much, and they sounded so genuine. It was a physical pull as I was bathed in the otherworldly substance the Apple produced. Everything was right, and everything was beautiful. Why would I stay in a place as desolate as our world, when I could make my own world with the Apple? The sweet, chiming voices told me that my every wish would be granted, my every desire fulfilled. And I saw- I saw?"
Altaïr broke off at that moment. To Malik's immense surprise, he seemed to be composing himself. Altaïr looked away, coughing awkwardly. Malik glanced in the other direction, out of respect. What could Altaïr have seen that would generate such a strong response?
After a few moments, Altaïr had calmed down enough to continue.
"I saw Adha in the Apple. She beckoned me, called to me. In that moment, it felt like nothing else the Apple had shown me could match the sight of Adha inviting me into her arms again, forgiving me for not? for not saving her on time. Eventually, she disappeared, as it appeared that the Apple had other plans.
"As I looked into the picture it projected, I found myself entranced. Everything around me disappeared, save the Apple. The map seemed to go on forever, revealing locations of what I can only guess to be other Pieces of Eden. I don't remember when I came to my senses, I do not remember why or how I came to my senses, either. All I knew was that I could not destroy that Piece of Eden. At the time, I told myself that it would be a waste to get rid of it, that I would be losing an opportunity to study something so extremely rare. I knew then, and I know now, how absurd those assertions were. The only reason I kept it, was because I had no other options. I could not bring myself to harm it. It was like an ethereal gift, constantly whispering to me, sweetly asking me to use it to finish Al Mualim's work. I was so tempted. I almost gave in to its soft caresses of persuasion.
Somehow though, I managed to regain my sense of self again, though it was no small feat. As I turned my back on that wretched, evil object, I saw? things."
Altaïr abruptly broke off again, and Malik immediately got the impression that, this time, he had no plans to continue.
"Altaïr," Malik said quietly, nervously. "You say that when you looked into the Apple, you were alone?"
At Altaïr's slight nod, Malik felt his already uneasy stomach drop.
"You hadn't noticed me and my men then?"
"What?" Altaïr rounded on Malik, his expression bewildered. With half of his face in shadow, Altaïr looked almost like a statue. One half of his face was strong willed and curious, and the other was something the devil himself had conjured up, all hard lines and flashing eyes. Good versus evil. As Malik studied Altaïr's face, he realized he couldn't tell which one was which. Altaïr had always been one to blur lines.
"You never acknowledged us, but we were there. What you just described, I saw as well. A map containing fictitious land masses- or maybe not? I am not sure as to why the Apple affected you this way. Yes, I was compelled to be near it, to own it, to use it against fellow man. But I feel that you had a much more personal connection, on a deeper level, perhaps?"
"That is strange," Altaïr murmured, gazing towards the glowing horizon, having regained control of himself. "Al Mualim specifically said that I could not be influenced so easily, that who I am and what I do was so intimately intertwined that he could not rob me of my mind as he had done to other men. He even told me that he tried to gain control over me once, but that his attempt failed."
"I apologize, Altaïr. It seems that I have given you more questions than answers." Malik said, his voice carrying on the breeze.
"No, Malik. I am not Al Mualim. You are allowed to freely question. To truly be an assassin, you must have knowledge about the ever growing world around you. To have knowledge, you must ask questions. You must trade ideas with those around you. Learn of other's perspectives and let others learn of yours."
"Thank you, Altaïr." Altaïr's slight reprimand had made Malik wonder. As Altaïr himself was asking more questions of Al Mualim, and having none answered truly in the process, his confidence in honesty must have been severely shaken. Was that why he suddenly put such emphasis on open truth telling?
The sun was going down now. Its last feeble rays mixed in with the indigo black of the night, creating a strange, otherworldly contrast.
"The world is so different than we once knew, Malik," Altaïr said with traces of longing in his voice. "Things have changed so much already, and I feel it is only the beginning."
They sat in silence for a few minutes, each man thinking.
"Altaïr, what did you see when you turned from the Apple?" Malik asked, hoping Altaïr would be ready to continue.
Altaïr grimaced, but he began to explain.
"When I turned away from the Apple? when I ignored its wishes and turned away from everything it was offering me, the world beyond the golden light of the Piece of Eden turned ugly. In that instant, I truly thought I had seen the world for what it really was. Al Mualim told me I had seen through the illusion. When I saw what was outside the reach of the Piece of Eden, I thought him a liar. What I thought I was seeing now was the world with nothing to cloud my judgement. Anger and greed fought for dominance, men looked at women who weren't their wives with lust, men who were perceived as good were hidden away in a cellar, trying to find a way to use their benevolent façade to their own advantage.
To this day, Malik, I do not know if what the Apple showed me was true. I do not want to believe Al Mualim, or his beloved Piece of Eden. Did I truly see through the illusion when Al Mualim tried to control me as his own? Did the Piece of Eden show me the world for what it really is? Why did I have such a strong reaction to the Apple, compared to you and your men?
These questions, and more, have been pursuing me all week. I do not know how to understand this Apple. It is so unique, yet there might be more scattered throughout The Holy Land and beyond. What if someone were to stumble on an Apple through no fault of their own? What monstrosities would be released then?"
Malik felt his shoulders sag as Altaïr's burden was now shared with him. So much information for one person. For one Creed even.
"We have so many questions and no answers," Altaïr said, a quiet frustration underlining his words. Malik made no reply, as much at a loss as Altaïr.
The two stared at nothing, and thought. Altaïr, about the Apple. Malik, about Altaïr. He was feeling ashamed of his prejudiced assumptions of Altaïr's intentions. No wonder the Master had been quiet about his musings. To admit to such a strange weakness took courage, although if there was one thing Malik had never doubted about Altaïr, it was his courage.
But such a strange weakness it was. To be affected by the Apple so strongly, so persistently. Suddenly, proclamations of Altaïr being "The Great One" didn't seem so preposterous. What "The Great One" was destined for, Malik had no idea, but to resist such a temptation and continue to resist it as Altaïr had described, must be some sort of divine test- and Altaïr had passed. A divine gift, it was now.
Although Malik had always been quiet about it, as his beliefs would surely make him be ridiculed by the other assassins for it, he had always felt that there was something more out there, some knowledge that was unknown to the mortal beings confined to Earth. Whether it be a God and Satan, or a heaven and hell, or even just a higher plane of being, Malik was unwilling to admit that it was all for nothing. He knew Altaïr did not share his beliefs, which would probably be why he would end up torturing himself, trying to figure out why he was so different, when Malik knew that he could account all of Altaïr's strange experiences to divine intervention.
"Have you come upon any conclusions?" Malik asked.
"Each is more absurd than the last." Altaïr responded, frustration coloring his voice. He turned away from Malik, looking towards the horizon again. Ever since that Piece of Eden had played a part in his life, things kept getting more complicated.
However much Altaïr preached to Malik about knowledge, ignorance was what he had learned. Years of following Al Mualim had proven that. In the eyes of many, assassins could be considered the most ignorant of classes. Following a leader solely because you were told to, putting all of your faith into one person, was exactly what led to the cataclysmic events of a week ago. Blind faith.
Was this how people felt about Altaïr now? Was he just another face to fill the void of a leader? Altaïr knew that someone had to lead, and he also knew that he was an obvious choice, considering the events of last week. As Al Mualim had stated, peace was what the Templars sought, albeit not at the consent of the people of the Holy Land. Altaïr wanted peace, but with the tensions between the Assassins and the Templars, true tranquility could never be achieved- not even to mention the other battles going on at the present time.
Nobody would- or could- ever truly achieve peace.
It was a hard thing to swallow, but the conviction that the thought brought with it told Altaïr all that he needed to know.
"Malik, do you think the Holy Land will ever be able to live as one?"
Altaïr watched Malik as he contemplated this.
"I think," Malik stated softly, "that whatever the answer to that question is-and I cannot give you an answer-we have to try to achieve it. That is what our Creed exists for- to promote peace. Our means by which we attempt to achieve it may be contradictory, but our goals are noble and just."
"We share the same goals with the Templars, and the ways they attempt to achieve it are contradictory as well. Who are we to say that their methods are so much more blasphemous than ours?"
"Listen to yourself, Altaïr!" Malik exclaimed, "You know as well as I, that the Templars are after power. We-" as he said it, he gestured between himself and Altaïr, "are after free will. We fight for others who cannot fight for themselves. We fight for the ability to think what we please!"
"Malik," Altaïr said wearily, "The world is full of contradictions. What you have just said is full of contradictions." At Malik's protests, Altaïr merely held up his hand to silence the man. "We fight for free will. Is that, in itself, not a contradiction? If everyone else may have free will, does that not include the Templars?"
"Of course it does not include the Templars! Free will is taken from those who plan to covet other's free will for themselves."
"So we will take free will from the Templars as a punishment for their planning to take free will from others?" As Altaïr asked Malik this question, his eyes were so hopeless. It struck a chord with Malik, who remembered feeling like that as he learned to deal with having a single arm. Absently, he tried to move his left arm, and was rewarded with only a twitch from what was left of his shoulder. Malik looked up, only to find that Altaïr was staring at his attempts to move a non-existent arm. Embarrassed, Malik looked away from Altaïr, into the dark night.
Altaïr continued to stare where Malik's left arm used to be. Although he and Malik had made amends, Altaïr was still tormented by Kadar's death, and the loss he had forced upon Malik. As a good assassin, Altaïr was supposed to make peace with his mistakes, but when lives of those Altaïr cared about were at stake; the guilt lingered with him much longer than it had with the deaths of unknown, innocent people. Much of the time, Altaïr wondered if he would ever forgive himself. He even wondered if Malik would ever truly forgive him, although he had, many times, assured Altaïr of his forgiveness. Somewhere far below the surface, however, Altaïr knew that Malik was still mourning the loss of his brother, and his arm. He would never mention it again, especially with Altaïr as Master of the Assassins, but Altaïr still sometimes felt subconscious animosity emitting from Malik.
"We have to do what we feel is right," Malik told Altaïr. "We are fighting for what we believe. We band together as brothers and sisters to face a great enemy, and we work to rid the world of them, for the betterment of mankind. We work not for ourselves, but for the people," A slight, sad smirk tugged at the corners of Malik's mouth as he added, "Because the people can't fight for themselves."
Altaïr had a sudden vision of himself walking around a walled city, only to find that he would have circled all the way around, having learned nothing of a possible entryway. Somewhere in that city, the answers which Altaïr sought were present, waiting for someone to find a way over its seemingly infallible barricade. The city was unwilling to give up its secrets, even to the Master of the Assassins. If only they could find a way to get someone on the inside, like they had done so many times before. If someone could give them insight, even to point them in a general direction. But this city was highly unpopulated, as only the greatest minds had ever found a way to climb the foolproof walls. Once you were in, Altaïr had the feeling that you wouldn't want to leave, or you couldn't. True enlightenment was not sought after by the weak of heart and mind.
Altaïr brooded silently, while Malik focused on the height he was sitting at, on the wind on his face, and the sight of the white, full moon. Anything but what Altaïr was contemplating.
Unfortunately, Altaïr was merely staring in consternation at the city's walls in front of him. His thoughts were churning sluggishly, mixing together and settling another mist of utter hopelessness upon him. There was so much to change, and yet so little seemed to be able to be done about it. Were things even ready for these changes? How long would it take for them to happen? Ten years? One hundred? One thousand? What could Altaïr personally do? It was all so impossible, so out of reach.
"What are your thoughts, Malik?" Altaïr spoke into the stillness of the night, startling Malik. Truth be told, Altaïr was tired of having to sleep each night when he was making no progress with his persistent thoughts and worries. Sharing his ideas, if it would change anything, would at least open up the possibility that there was a solution out there, and Altaïr just hadn't figured it out.
"Regarding what, Altaïr?"
"Everything our conversation has touched upon tonight."
Malik didn't know if his master could sense it, but on the surface of things-as he had been unwilling to look any deeper- he was at just as much of a loss as Altaïr.
"I am regretful to say that I have no additional insights to offer you, Altaïr."
Malik watched as a flash of disappointment flashed across his master's face. He covered it up quickly, though, and spoke.
"I have a strange feeling tonight, Malik. With everything that has happened in the last year, I would have thought that defeating Al Mualim would mark the ending of my journey. In that moment, after the death of Al Mualim and before my supposed destroying of the Apple, before doubt was instilled upon my mind, I felt as though I was truly enlightened. I was wrong, which makes me ask yet another question I feel will not be answered for a long while. Does true enlightenment even exist? Or are the planes of knowledge infinite? As we arm ourselves with intelligence, and deem each other superior or inferior to ourselves, is there any one man or woman who is truly enlightened? And what would that entail, exactly? As our world is such a subjective place, is enlightenment achieved only when you have become fully objective? Is enlightenment different for each person?"
Altaïr paused to take a breath, and Malik felt himself rather dizzy. He found himself wondering if Altaïr ever just wanted to detach himself from his thoughts, and just be for a while.
"I apologize," Altaïr continued, "What I meant to say, regarding the strange atmosphere surrounding us tonight, was that tonight feels like a beginning. However desolate and hopeless I have seemed, I believe something good is starting here. The strangest thing about it though, was that the premonition itself was extremely sudden and clear. Maybe all is not lost, Malik. This strange feeling still lingers inside me, and every time I start to feel like all is lost, a pulse of hope is dispersed throughout my being."
Malik's head was swimming. He felt that Altaïr himself was the strange atmosphere he kept talking about. The master's complete one hundred eighty degree shift in thinking was unbelievably odd. It had happened in a matter of seconds.
Although he had not given it permission, a thought popped into Malik's head at that moment, causing him to cast Altaïr a swift, sideways glance. It made him uncomfortable, although the notion itself wasn't entirely painful. Malik knew to keep this thought to himself, however, as Altaïr would deem it completely unfathomable.
Had some outside force taken pity on Altaïr, giving him a sense of hope? Was the God that Malik treaded ever so carefully around offering to help Altaïr? Was that the palpable shift in the atmosphere? Divine intervention?
If Altaïr had, indeed been chosen as "The Great One", would whoever bestowed this upon him want to give him incentive to continue with his questioning? With the almost inevitable journey that would be the end result of this conversation?
Automatically, Malik looked towards the sky when he thought of any higher power. Were the stars a little bit brighter? Did the clouds form any specific shape, offering a sign? Would the wind blow in a different direction?
Malik waited for a few moments, and nothing out of the ordinary happened. Put out, but not surprised, Malik cast a glance Altaïr's way.
"How do you propose we proceed, then?" Malik asked. Altaïr met his eyes an answered.
"I said that tonight feels like a beginning, Malik. We must put our thoughts into action, incomplete as they are. I have been isolating myself for too long, and I believe that no further thought will help me understand the great mystery that this world is. I have experiences to be gained, lessons to be learned, and knowledge to be taught. However, you must understand that the path we are beginning our trek upon is going to be a treacherous and unpredictable one. There are many questions to be answered, and many lands to travel." Altaïr stopped suddenly, coming to a surprising but inevitable realization. As Malik looked on, he saw something akin to muted excitement wash over Altaïr's usually emotionless expression.
"What is it, Altaïr?" Malik asked, getting gladly caught up in the much less depressing and extraordinary overtones that had been hovering over their earlier conversation.
"My journey will start soon, and I must select an assassin to take my place as Master of the Assassins."
Malik was stunned.
"Are you? sure, Altaïr? You are going to take on this extraordinary journey on your own?"
Altaïr paused a moment in his very toned down excitement, and was silent for a moment.
"I just spoke of not isolating myself anymore?" He began in a much more serious tone. "And yet here I sit, mere seconds later, telling of how I will set off on an extended journey alone. That seems rather controversial, does it not?"
Malik didn't respond, but just listened, knowing that this was leading somewhere.
"Would you like to accompany me on these travels?" Altaïr asked bluntly.
Malik was too stunned to really think about what Altaïr was asking, and replied with the first thing that came to mind.
"What about the other assassins? You are our leader. What would become of them?"
"Do not worry over such things, Malik. I have hardly had the chance to grow accustomed to the life of leadership, and I know of many suitable candidates to permanently take my place as Master of the Assassins." Altaïr had not meant to sound so severe, but it came across that way, as he was internally stressing over Malik's answer to his first question.
"Why have you asked this of me?" Malik questioned, truly curious. He wondered if the choice was actually his to make, or if Altaïr was merely framing it as a question because it would persuade him more easily.
"For many reasons, Malik, and one of them is of my utter faith in you. I trust you implicitly. I have also shared this information tonight with no one but yourself, and I appreciate your concern for me. My most significant reason, though, is that I would enjoy your company, and I consider you a good friend, Malik."
Whatever Malik had been expecting, it was not that. He was warmed by the thought, though, of having an ally- not in the sense of the Brotherhood itself, but of having a true companion to confide in, and let the bonds of the Creed slacken just a little bit when they were in each other's company, as they did not have to worry about offending each other so much as the Brothers speaking among themselves would.
"So this decision is truly mine to make?" Malik asked hesitantly, not wanting to offend his? friend.
"Of course," Altaïr answered simply, the corners of his mouth turning upwards the slightest bit.
"I would be honoured." Malik answered. Altaïr's hidden smile became a full one, and Malik's mirrored that as the primal instinct of men-against-the-world kicked in.
The two friends sat side by side on the rooftop, in the dark night of Masyaf. They did not speak, but were connected. The concept of friendship in the Creed was not a new one, although it was a rare one. Assassins had always been taught to keep unnecessary emotions beneath the surface, to remain as indifferent as possible. When friendships spawned, it often created tensions among the Brotherhood, as some were scornful, and others were envious, but silent about it.
Malik and Altaïr sat in silence for much longer. They didn't so much think about the reason they would be leaving Masyaf, but the fact that they would be leaving together, in a true sign of comradeship. Worries about the Apple and the Templars were still present, but more of mosquito bites than that of a horse fly.
And for the rest of the night, thoughts of a warm and inviting nature were played in both assassins' heads, ignoring the storm that was inevitably gathering around them.
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3387678/1/Mega_Man_Guiding_Rainbows_Light
^ Best one from my favorite authors collection.
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2915388/1/The_Matrix_One_Point_Five
^ One of mine. Unfortunately, the format was recently changed so my page breaks no longer appear.
Sometimes I really wish there was some kind of 'Elite' version of ffnet with a higher minimum quality standard, more allowances for input, and a smaller number to sift through. No matter what you write, association with that site raises unwanted implications.
^ Best one from my favorite authors collection.
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2915388/1/The_Matrix_One_Point_Five
^ One of mine. Unfortunately, the format was recently changed so my page breaks no longer appear.
Sometimes I really wish there was some kind of 'Elite' version of ffnet with a higher minimum quality standard, more allowances for input, and a smaller number to sift through. No matter what you write, association with that site raises unwanted implications.
http://www.fanfiction.net/~oorosemysticaoo
My fanfics. XD One's a Sailor Moon cosmic horror story, and one's a story about the Junk Lady from Labyrinth.
My fanfics. XD One's a Sailor Moon cosmic horror story, and one's a story about the Junk Lady from Labyrinth.
Closest thing I read to a fanfic were the parody comics of persona 4 by hiimdaisy http://hiimdaisy.livejournal.com/ even if you didn't play the games they are really funny
ahh one fanfic that got me into reading them was called fallen stars a lucky star and fallout 3 crossover fanfic which worked out awesomely and was epic
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5609557/1/
if you want some good fanfics to read
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/FanFicRecommendations
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5609557/1/
if you want some good fanfics to read
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/FanFicRecommendations
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4135188/1/Bloodstained_Roses (1st)
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4932178/1/Dawn_Of_A_Rosy_Sky (2nd)
These two were so far my favorites i would strongly suggest you look into them. Same author who is great her name on there is ScarletDivinity
thge link to her profile is:
http://www.fanfiction.net/u/1523239/ScarletDivinity
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4932178/1/Dawn_Of_A_Rosy_Sky (2nd)
These two were so far my favorites i would strongly suggest you look into them. Same author who is great her name on there is ScarletDivinity
thge link to her profile is:
http://www.fanfiction.net/u/1523239/ScarletDivinity
So...You really have that big a problem with My Immortal? I actually spent a good chunk(five and a half hours) of my day yesterday reading that aloud over Skype.
In all honestly, I really actually do like that story. It is terrible and angsty and badly written, but the whole thing is either brilliant satire, great trolling, or a person who genuinely thought they were writing a good story. In any case, it is hilarious, and opens itself to quite a few really great jokes over its 44 chapters.
So, with that in mind, why, exactly, do you have such a huge problem with it, OP? I can understand saying "they're butchering the English Language and Harry Potter canon" or whatever, but if you think about it, in two out of three cases that was kind of the point, and in one out of three it's still pretty funny.
EDIT: Also, to be a bit more on-topic, I've been contemplating writing what is essentially Hitchhiker's Guide fanfic for a while now. Although it wouldn't involve the same characters or anything, it would just be set in the same universe and time period as of the end of the first book.
In all honestly, I really actually do like that story. It is terrible and angsty and badly written, but the whole thing is either brilliant satire, great trolling, or a person who genuinely thought they were writing a good story. In any case, it is hilarious, and opens itself to quite a few really great jokes over its 44 chapters.
So, with that in mind, why, exactly, do you have such a huge problem with it, OP? I can understand saying "they're butchering the English Language and Harry Potter canon" or whatever, but if you think about it, in two out of three cases that was kind of the point, and in one out of three it's still pretty funny.
EDIT: Also, to be a bit more on-topic, I've been contemplating writing what is essentially Hitchhiker's Guide fanfic for a while now. Although it wouldn't involve the same characters or anything, it would just be set in the same universe and time period as of the end of the first book.
I have a 40-something page unfinished Halo fanfic gathering pixel-dust on my hard drive. It was based on two characters an old friend and I created while trying to do machinema. Not quite sure how to get it on here...if anyone's interested in reading it, that is.
Depends... my fanfic is usually sci-fi based - Doctor Who, Star Trek, etc. I did a couple of L&O:CI ones (very fluffy and completely taken over by a Mary-Sue, but the second one had a decent storyline to it).
I'm still working on The Hyde Complex:
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5056818/1/The_Hyde_Complex
I also did a popular short story on McCoy's return to Earth in the reboot called In Limbo: http://fiction.sfi.org/viewstory.php?sid=9&chapter=1
I'm also considering an 11th Doctor piece called Second Song... but that's another story (pun intended).
I'm still working on The Hyde Complex:
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5056818/1/The_Hyde_Complex
I also did a popular short story on McCoy's return to Earth in the reboot called In Limbo: http://fiction.sfi.org/viewstory.php?sid=9&chapter=1
I'm also considering an 11th Doctor piece called Second Song... but that's another story (pun intended).
Oh god... There was this one Kingdom Hearts one I LOVED to death... But the author deleted it. I mean, you can hear about some damn good fanficiton, but this really was novel-quality.
Good to see some people are capable of appreciating the potential good of fanfiction, as apposed to mocking it after reading a single poor story.
Good to see some people are capable of appreciating the potential good of fanfiction, as apposed to mocking it after reading a single poor story.
Hmmm, I don't have that much of a problem with My Immortal per se... hell, I actually like Twilight, although admittedly even Twilight is nowhere near as bad as My Immortal. I won't read MI myself, and have no intention to ever do so, but I don't have an actual problem with the story. No, my problem is that the first two people to reply to this topic, aside from myself, both posted a load of crap that was apparently meant to parody MI, and it just wasn't funny. That's why I added the edit to the OP, so that people wouldn't just post a load of crap and would take this seriously. The reason for the thread was to promote actual decent fanfic and see what some of the great writers on this site have done, rather than be a conduit for idiots to post stupid unfunny parodies of something that was written appallingly badly.Crazzee said:
Anywho, back on topic. Planning to write at least one fanfic over the next week or so, if I get the time, based on some of the untold stories of Halo. Things like the doomed flight of the Argos and the Heracles, or the siege of Draco IV, or the fall of Arcadia, and so on, things that are mentioned in the backstory but never expanded on, I'm planning to write something based on those that could almost be considered Fanon (so, using all the correct timeline and history and features from the actual Halo backstory, and so on). As a longtime Halo fan, it should be interesting to see what I can come up with
.
Well, at the end of the day, accompaniement novels for games or films or whatever are just fanfiction, except they're considered canon too. Sort of like 'Official Fanfics', as it were. So it's fairly obvious that some people must be able to write good fanfic, hell, Cassandra Clare (author of the Mortal Instruments trilogy) started out as a Harry Potter and LOTR fanfic writer, before she got her young adult novels published...joshuaayt said:
I'm eventually going to get round to writing a different ending for the god damn Assassin's Quest books by Robin Hobb, the ending for that series was so awful I have to correct it.
Ah, that makes more sense now. I thought you were just kind of saying that for no good reason. Thanks for clearing that up. :3Trivun said:
To be honest, though, other than My Immortal I've never really read any fanfiction(and knowing that it's fairly obvious that I've never read any good fanfic.) I might browse about today for some, and maybe I'll actually get around to writing that Hitchhiker's Guide thing that I mentioned above.
Fan Fic. *Cracks Knuckles*
First and Foremost. Damn It Academia Nut, stop torturing us and UPDATE THE OPEN DOOR DAMN IT. I want the Anakin vs. Anakin fight. Scipio and Ashley preparing for the Necrons. Lars saving Skuld, the Haruhi Suzumiya Incursion thingy majigy! New Chaos MESSING AROUND WITH EVERY OTHER UNIVERSE! It's been....Soul Crushinly LONG for an Update Man. Thousand Shinji was AWESOME. But please, Update It. It's been, 6 months I think if not more.
*Ahem*
I normally read Crossover Fics. However, I'm currently reading Warhammer Fics like Shinji and Warhammer 40000. Yes, it is even more epic than the title suggests.
First and Foremost. Damn It Academia Nut, stop torturing us and UPDATE THE OPEN DOOR DAMN IT. I want the Anakin vs. Anakin fight. Scipio and Ashley preparing for the Necrons. Lars saving Skuld, the Haruhi Suzumiya Incursion thingy majigy! New Chaos MESSING AROUND WITH EVERY OTHER UNIVERSE! It's been....Soul Crushinly LONG for an Update Man. Thousand Shinji was AWESOME. But please, Update It. It's been, 6 months I think if not more.
*Ahem*
I normally read Crossover Fics. However, I'm currently reading Warhammer Fics like Shinji and Warhammer 40000. Yes, it is even more epic than the title suggests.