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A small carriage drawn by one horse made its way lazily down the path, it had been days since anything but human feet has trudge upon the dirt road, but today was a special occasion. Upon the seat of the horse drawn carriage sat a cloaked figure, his face almost completely hidden except for a few strands of white hair that stuck out messily. When they had reached the intersection of the country roads, the figure pulled the horse to a stop, and flipped down his hood allowing the sunrise to greet the familiar and always welcomed face of Sire Ravenhart.

The young man looked around, expecting another to accompany him since he had given secret orders to Fahim, the banished assassin to meet him here at this very spot. Even though Sire was a good twenty minutes early, Fahim was still late in his books and the head of the brotherhood frowned in disapproval, but shook off the feeling as he glanced at the boys things. His swords, his cloak, his daggers, his poisions, and ontop of them all laid a tag and a knife that did not belong to the expected boy.

As Sire saw a figure come into sight, a small twitch of pain struck at his heart as he warily glanced back to the bed of the cart, and strong smile on his face. “No worries Erik, you will be home soon.” Sire sat up straight as he watched Fahim approach the carriage.

Fahim jogged down the road. He was confused, but not surprised that Sire required him to do something in order to regain favor. What could he possibly come up with in a week? Fahim kept asking himself. He had done his best to clean up, he had washed his clothes in a stream and had even picked the sticks out of his hair. Overall, however, he still looked ragged, but that didn't concern him too much.

As he closed on the spot Sire had specified, he noticed his master already waiting there, next to a carrige of some sort. Are you kidding me? I thought I was early! So much for impressing him this early on... Fahim shook his head and continued to jog towards the figures.

As he came up to his master, he nodded awkwardly, trying to show respect, but hesitant since their last encounter. He waited for Sire to tell him what it was he needed to do, expecting the worst.

Sire looked down at the boy sadly as he looked down at the boy who was covered in sweat, he tossed Fahim’s robe at him, along with his clothes and weapons. “Put these on, you need to look semi-decent for when we get there.” Sire hoped down from the carriage with the tag and dagger in his hands, staring at Fahim. “Here, hold these two things, they are never to leave your person at any time what so ever.” His voice was so harsh as he said these words, his eyes reinforcing the importance of the command.

“Why I called you here is because we are on an escort mission,” Sire said as he glanced back at the box in the back, allowing people to realize that it was no box at all, but a casket. “This is Erik, the man who protected you during your mission. It is tradition to never let a assassin travel alone until he is returned to the earth from which we are from.” Sire’s eyes almost seemed to be stung with tears as he stared at the hard wooden casket. “We are going to take him back home, I believe that is the least you can do for this man…”

Fahim stood, his knees completely locked, he was rooted in place. His throat hurt, as if he had managed to swallow a fist, but it only made it half way. His eyes did not blink as he looked at the casket. He turned, and managed to meet Sire's eyes, only with great effort, and take what he had offered him.

He swallowed, making his throat burn, but he managed to speak, in a strangled voice, "Of course," he dropped his gaze, "I will do what ever you ask, if that is the way."

Fahim changed into his robe, he had looked forward to this all week, but now it was an empty feeling. He held on to the items Sire had given him with unbreakable determination. He would not let them go, gone was his determination to prove himself to Sire, now he only wished to do his best for the fallen assassin.

Sire crawled up into the seat of the carriage as he took the reins of the large black horse refusing to let his eyes drift towards the casket lying in the back. He waited until Fahim sat next to him, before he cried for the horse to move, both of them thrown off a little by the sudden jolt of movement. For the first hour or so, they rode in complete silence, an awkward tension between the two. The one who hated his leader, and the other who hated his job.

“Erik…” Sire said finally breaking the silence. “Was a year older than me…we grew up together…I didn’t have many friends, but he was always so kind…and gentle…” His knuckles turned white as he gripped the reins tighter and his eyes frowned as the focused on the road. “He was married, with three kids, two girls and the middle child a boy, he would take this run about three times a week, just so he could see them…here,” Sire reached into his pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper with three names scribbled on it. “The eldest is Ana, the youngest is Emily and the middle is Zachary…he is such a nice kid, always wanted to be a great warrior, with honor and pride, he’ll be heartbroken when he learns about Erik…”

Fahim stared forward, clutching the items Sire had given him. He had prepared himself for extreme physical stress, not this. Fahim knew that everyone had to die sometime, and while he had no problem with killing sinners and those mandated as evil by the Brotherhood, no one had ever given their life for him. He had seen death, he had caused death, he had been threatened with death, but he had never seen someone prevent death. The concept threw him.

Knowing the sacrifice the man lying behind him had gone through for him made him feel bad, to say the least, but Sire was not helping the matter. Knowing the man on a personal level, no matter little, made him more than just a Brother. Now he had a family, a group of people who relied on him, and now he was gone. If Fahim was upset over the death over a Brother, he was devastated how much this one death could branch out so much, ruining so many lives.

Fahim sighed, he wasn't sure if he wanted to punish himself more, or just learn more about the man who had given his life to preserve Fahim's own, but he pressed on anyway, "Sire?..." Fahim waited for a reaction, but continued when he received none, "Where you two in the same group?" Fahim hoped to learn more about Erik, and maybe connect more with Sire. Fahim wouldn't want to face this all alone.

Sire’s eyes squinted as he looked down and tried to focus on the road a small smile escaping to his lips. “We were in the same group, he went on my first mission with me,” As Sire continued to daydream he felt himself begin to get caught up in the memories and let out a joyful laugh. “I remember one time, when we were on a mission, he got so distracted by a local fruit seller that he didn’t even know that the guy we were supposed to assassinate was standing right next to him!” Sire let out some more laughs as an even bigger smile crossed his face. “I mean we weren’t the greatest friends! But he was more of a brother to me than those who serve on the counsel now! Oh and his wife, Emilia! When he meet her, he stuttered more times I actually had to fight off a whole gang of Templar Knights by myself because he was so stunned by her.”

His words carried on, as he tried to contain the happiness in his voice, talking about him as if he was still alive, and that he never spent his nights in the chapel of the monastery, praying and crying for forgiveness. Though no one would ever know about that, ever, Sire made sure of that for as long as he lived, but for now he had forgotten that he was with an initiate, and was laughing like a normal boy, reminiscing about the good ol’ days.

Fahim swallowed, knowing more and more about Erik upset him, and he was still uneasy, but Sire seemed to be more on his side now. He was glad that his master had shared any information about himself, and felt like maybe, he could begin to connect with the man.

Fahim looked down, seeming to examine the wood panels below him intensely. "Sir? What group were you in?" Fahim didn't expect an answer, so he asked other questions, to keep the conversation going. "When did you join the brotherhood? And who was in charge when you joined?"

((Ugh sorry for being so long ><, you can skip ahead whenever you want))

They were approaching a small village at this time, and Sire casted his glance to the side, “I was in a group that was disbanded a few years back, as for when I joined…I never did…I was born into the brotherhood,” He drew the cart to a halt in front of a small and modest house and leapt out of his seat as he tossed his reigns to the ground. “And you ask to many questions,” he said a almost joking smile on his face. People always looked at Sire as if he was some sort of outcast freak, an untouchable, but in actuality he was just a normal 26 year old. “Now be quiet, and respectful boy, or I will kill you with my bare hands.” His voice turned harsh and the older man went and knocked on the door.

A young girl, who seemed like she was three years younger than Sire opened the door, a baby in her arms as she pushed away some sweat caked hair. Yet her eyes lit up when she saw Sire’s familiar face in the doorway. “SIRE! My oh my, this is quiet the unexpected surprise! What are you doing here? Is Erik here to? Oh and who is this young man?” All of her questions stopped when she looked at Sire’s emotionless face, and her own became pale quickly. “Sire…what’s going on…why are you here?”

“Emilia…”Sire said his voice cracking slightly. “I’m so sorry…”

The widow shook her head in denial, “No…no…no…no…don’t you do this to me Sire...You are lying to me aren’t you…don’t do this to me,” Her brown eyes began to water with tears as she gripped her baby girl with all her might. “Where’s Erik, where is Erik, Sire?”

“Emilia,” Sire motioned for Fahim to hold up the small identity tag. “You know what Erik was to the brotherhood…”

“NO ERIK IS NOT GONE!” She shrieked and a few young and confused heads began to pop out from around the corners. With that she held the young baby close to her chest as she began to pound on Sire’s chest with her other fist. “No this is your fault! What mission did you assign him! You knew he had a family! This is all your fault! You’re a monster A MONSTER!”

Sire looked down at the ground, his bangs completely covering his eyes, and Emilia, tears running down her tanned face, she turned to Fahim. “Run, you should run away from this! Before this monster takes you’re life away! RUN! RUN”

"Ma'am I am sorry for your loss," Fahim spoke over her screaming, and put his hand on her arm, in an effort to calm her down. She turned to him, tears streaming down her face, and Fahim exhaled deeply, preparing himself. "I'm sorry for your loss," he repeated, "But it isn't Sire's fault your husband died, he died protecting me and my companions." Fahim's arm jerked back, as the women wretched herself from his grip. She stared at him with an unreadable expression.

Fahim continued quietly, aware that Sire and the women were watching him. "My companions and I will be eternally grateful to your husband and your family. " I never met the man, I don't know how he died, and I don't know anything that I could have done to save him, but she doesn't need to know that. So Fahim decided to do what he thought would be best for this woman to hear, not what was necessarily what he wanted Sire to hear. "Sire had no part in your husbands death, and I could never bring myself to leave him or the brotherhood, this is, I am sure, how your husband felt. The Brotherhood is an assassin's life, I cheer with its triumphs, and I cry with its losses. That is the reason I am here today, your husband, he saved us, by his sacrifice my brothers and I were able to escape certain death, and a great evil was defeated. Were it not for his expertise, I would not be alive today, and I want you to know how deeply appreciative I am to him, and your family. My failure was righted by his skill, one day I hope to be half as wise and as skillful as your husband, and I will work the rest of my life and carry with me his memory, so I will never forget and will, maybe, do enough good in my life to be worthy of his memory. I understand that what I say will do little to ease your pain, but I want you to be proud of your husband's sacrifice, and maybe understand why I am so honored to have known him." Fahim looked at Sire for forgiveness, and then back to Emilia, trying to make her see...

((the reason Fahim wants Sire's forgiveness, is because he stretched the truth and said he knew Erik. He wanted Sire to understand he did it only for the woman's benefit.))

Sire had ignored him, and instead went to go lift the casket out of the back of the cart. This was the part of the job that was the worst, and a few kind neighbors came to help him with the weight and they placed the hand carved casket in front of house. The woman just continued to sob uncontrollably and Sire reached out a warey hand, but then quickly retracted it.

“Get in the carriage Fahim,” Sire sighed as he crawled into the cart and couldn’t help but have his hands shake as he grabbed the reins. “Emilia…may you find peace…” And with that he allowed the initiate to climb up next to him, as the stared at the sobbing woman. Sire held his reins and after they were a mile down the road, Sire turned to him. “I’m sorry you had to see that young one, I didn’t except that kind of reaction…I should have known you were to inexperienced to handle such a scene…”

Sire cracked the reins on the horses back, making the cart go faster since he no longer had to worry about a dead body in the back. “When we return you may go back to the brotherhood, I think this sight…even how…horrible it was…will give you an idea of the sacrifice your brothers make for you, for me, for everyone and why you should appreciate it.” And after an awkward moment of silence Sire made an attempt at a joke, “And never sass your leader, I hope you learned that also.”

Fahim gave Sire a half hearted smile, and looked down the road blankly. Seeing that woman crying for the life of someone she loved brought chills to Fahim. He glimpsed, for a moment, his mother crying for her children's lives. His hand darted to his battered necklace, and he looked towards the horizon, wishing he could empty his mind of the horrors he had witnessed years before.

"I'll never forget Sire," He said in a noticeably strangled voice.

((sorry for short post, gotta get off computer for a bit, but i thought this would add to the drama))