Heart Shaped Box

His horse had been running for days now and he had granted the black stallion only a few hours of rest – Altair knew the animal was dying... He had pushed it to hard and now it didn't matter anymore. He slowly dismounted and pet his neck, murmuring soft whispers into his ear. Apologizing for what he had done but that he had to. Whispering his farewells to send him off into another world, the one separated from that of the living. The stallion collapsed, his breath becoming shallow and finally, after hours of agony, died. Altair hadn't time to look back or to mourn. He walked down the gravel road, Masyaf's towers in sight. His chest was tight and his hands clenched into fists. His eyes were set onto the fortress.

He hadn't slept in days, not since he had departed. As soon as he had read the message nothing could hold him anymore. It was near sunset and the guards told him their greetings, a journeyman running up the hill to announce that the Master had returned. Altair didn't pay them any of his attention as he walked on, on and on over loose gravel and following the small path. It took far too long for him to reach the court of the Assassin's headquarters. When he entered the castle Rauf was standing there, knowing exactly why he had returned, why he had no eyes for anybody else. Maybe Altair should have returned Rauf's silent greeting. Maybe the look in his eyes would have prepared Altair for what he had yet to discover.

Altair went up the stairs, following the empty halls until he stood in front of the man's chambers. Finally he was there and he opened the door not bothering to knock. The room was dark, only a small candle burning on a nearby table and the last light of the dying sun falling through an open window. His eyes were set onto the bed near the wall. Quickly he closed the distance, crouching down next to the man lying there. His eyes roamed over his body, his slightly parted lips and his gaze followed the line of his nose, down his jaw and to his chest...

He grabbed Malik's hand. It was warm.

"Malik", he whispered, his voice hoarse and sounding so much different, "I came..." Altair brought his palm up against his face. It was still warm... still warm. "Why didn't you tell me earlier", Altair whispered into the dark, one single tear rolling over his cheek and loosing itself somewhere between the folds of the Dai's robes.

His world came tumbling down.

Altair's eyes turned from the dead body, looking up and through the window. He thought he saw the shadow of the man he loved walking down the gravel road, waiting for Altair on the other side of the horizon.