#reblog if you know aquila means eagle

[shotgunsandstars]

They Were Giants 3: A Stranger Calling

This chapter is written on commission for rampakslue amd Anglophilicsins. If you’d like to commission something you can find information about it here

If you read and/or enjoy this fanfic a reblog would be very appreciated so other people can learn about this fic as well.

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Desmond was waiting for him when he left Aquilae. Malik felt heavier as he left the crumbling city and found Desmond sitting at a fire his all his armor still on, nervously watching the city with difficulty thanks to how purely black it was out here without the stars and no lights for dozens of miles. When Desmond saw him he leapt to his feet. “Malik! You’re back. How did it go? Did you take care of those other priests?” Desmond asked.

Malik wasn’t really listening. He just put the naked godkiller sword into Desmond’s hands, picked up his gear, and didn’t stop walking. He was headed north west, out of the land of no stars, towards the Belt of Aquila that surrounded the Eagle at the furthest north western edge of the sky. Desmond scrambled to kick the fire out and followed after Malik. His plate jingled as he jogged to catch up and tried to talk to Malik. Malik didn’t answer him once.

He honestly wasn’t really with Desmond. He was still back in Aquilae, looking down at Tarazed before stabbing his sword straight through his chest and how hot the sword had become. Too hot to hold. Altair had been so pleased but Malik had shown him the same attention he now showed Desmond. That had annoyed him and he’d vanished in a flash of fire. All he could think about was what Tarazed had said as his last words. That there was something wrong with Altair.

It wasn’t so out of character for Altair as Tarazed made it sound. He’d also acted cold and calculated with Aquilae the first time Malik had entered Eagle. He’d been so ready to burst into flames and throw them either back into the sky or deep into the earth when they’d all come one at a time to inspect Altair’s new priest. It was how he was protective of Malik before Malik could protect himself. Tarazed’s priests had been a real and significant threat to Malik’s existence and not something Altair would have tolerated. In turn Tarazed, who would go out with the express purpose of finding priests to bring back to Eagle to murder Malik, could not be tolerated. Neither things that so fully threatened Malik’s life were allowed to continue existing as far as Altair was concerned. It made sense that he’d ordered Malik to kill him, since he couldn’t do it himself, so that Malik would stay safe.

He came to the conclusion that what had happened last night wasn’t as wildly out of character as it had seemed in the moment as the sun was starting to rise. They’d made good time but they should really be stopping to rest for the day. He looked over his shoulder and saw Desmond some fifty feet behind him, dragging his feet tiredly. “Oh, I’m sorry, Desmond,” Malik said once he was in ear shot. He forgot Desmond had been on a strictly nocturnal schedule for only about seven nights and followed after Malik in full plate. They also hadn’t stopped since they’d left Aquilea and Malik forgot that mortals were significantly more delicate than Malik was. Barely more than a week ago Malik had had nearly all the bones in his body broken and he was as right as rain. Humans didn’t come back from that. They usually died.

“It’s fine,” Desmond sighed. “But… are we stopping for the day?”

“Yes. We are,” Malik assured him.

“Oh good,” Desmond groaned and immediately flopped down on the ground.

Malik chuckled and left him to take off his plate before it got too warm and went to find both food and some firewood to cook it if needed. At the very least he wanted some fire to heat water for tea. He didn’t find anything out here in the brush but he saw old signs of antelope which was something. He did find some good dried out saplings from when life used to grow more here when Aquilae had tended the land. He returned to Desmond who’d removed his shiny plate armor and numerous padding and was sitting in only the thinnest of clothes, using a cloth to wipe the surface of the breast plate clean of dirt. Malik put the little branches in a pile and snapped his fingers. Fire erupted from nothing. He pulled a small kettle out from his gear and poured some of his canteen into it. He set it to hover over the cracking fire and laid out his bedroll. Desmond had since done the same.

Malik did the same as Desmond and removed his armor, neatly laying it down on the ground and checking all the ties, buckles, and talismans carefully to make sure they were secure. He also checked the plates that made the armor up and that they were unblemished. His water was starting to boil by the time he was done and Malik put it down next to him and opened the top. He put a rolled up tea bomb into the kettle. It was only a little bigger than the biggest knuckle of his thumb but immediately burst as it hit the water and quickly stained it amber. As Malik was putting the lid back on the kettle he thought to himself that it reminded him of Altair’s eyes.

Malik watched Desmond clean his armor and didn’t offer to help. He’d done so at first but now knew Desmond preferred to do it by hand.

Out of his armor Desmond looked much smaller than Malik was used to. The plate and padding added significant mass to him. Not that Desmond was weak by any means. He was a smith and used to carrying around heavy ingots or tools and smacking metal into shape but only his arms were big and had any muscle definition. Everywhere else was soft. Malik couldn’t help but think that if Tarazed had gone so far with two priests because Aquilae was dead what would the other gods do now that there were two dead Eagle gods? As it was neither he nor Altair were on good terms with the northern gods. Alshain especially had secluded herself and didn’t even come out of the sky for festivals celebrated in her honor. Tso Ke and Tseen Foo equally resented Malik for very different reasons.

In the north east they called him Mountain Breaker to this day because he’d shattered the mountain that had had a huge carving of an effigy of Tso Ke that overlooked the city that bore his name. It had caused an avalanche that had consumed the entire city. Tso Ke had promised Malik would regret it when he’d seen the destruction. On the other side of the country Tseen Foo had branded Malik Firestorm and still deeply resented him for the Red Lash he’d inflicted upon the north west where he’d burned down a hundred miles of old pine forests and the city of Tseen Foo during the Eagle War. It was called the Red Lash because the sky had been red for days as the fire blazed until all that remained was ash that had been washed away by a later rain, revealing the red earth characteristic of the north west. Even fifty years later the Red Lash had not recovered and it had crippled the land’s timber production which in turn strangled the rest of Eagle’s ability to get large quantities of lumber.

Both of Alshain’s neighbors had every reason to hate Malik and now even more that he’d killed their brother. They’d been wary and afraid when he’d just killed Aquilae. But a Cardinal Star? This would breed anger.

A young smith without real combat training would be slaughtered in moments. It made Malik’s stomach roll. “Hey, Malik,” Desmond said.

“Hmm?”

“Your tea is going to get cold if you just leave it there,” Desmond said. He was laying on his bedroll now and eating some of his rations.

“Oh, right,” Malik said and poured himself a cup of the deeply amber tea. The cup was one of the ones his father had made him. It had a chip in the top but Malik liked it like that. It, unlike Malik, aged, and reminded him of actual passing of time. He added a little sugar to his tea and sipped it.

“So… You killed those priests?” Desmond asked him slowly.

“I did,” Malik said.

“The Eagle looked different last night,” Desmond ventured.

“I also killed Tarazed. With that very sword you’re carrying for me.” Desmond swallowed.

“So… now what?”

“Now I’m taking you home, where you belong,” Malik said and took a sip of his tea.

“What!” Desmond sat up quickly. “If I go back you’ll have to carry the evil sword yourself, Malik,” he said.

“That is something I must live with. What I do not have to live with is your life on my hands.”

“What?” Desmond didn’t get it. Malik told him that since he’d killed a Cardinal Star the others would probably be angry. He didn’t want Desmond to get mixed up in such things. “That’s… fair I guess. But I could still help you.”

“Desmond, it’s safer and better for me and you if you were home.”

Desmond sighed and thumped down on his bedroll. “I guess,” he looked at Malik across the fire, not lifting his head. “I just liked traveling with you. Even if the pace was horrid. I’ve never left that stretch of river before now. Thought I was going to live and die knowing only that river. I got to see a lot of Eagle with you. You see a lot of things with a priest.”

Malik’s face softened. “Yes. I know. But it is better for you if you were home. We’ll stop at Altair at the very least before then so you can see the capital. Altair is a beautiful city.”

“Is it as big as Osetalla?”

“Bigger,” Malik said. “It is the largest city in all of Eagle. The last compass… city,” he ended slowly, sadly.

“You destroyed the others,” Desmond said. It wasn’t accusatory. It was simply a question and a statement.

“I did,” Malik said. “And a lot of other things too. Let’s not speak of it.”

“Of course. I can only imagine it’s horrible to think of,” Desmond said.

Malik had another cup of tea and emptied the spent tea bomb with a bit of magic, throwing it into the fire. There it didn’t burst into flames but rather rolled and sparked, dancing across the top of the flame and rolled back into a tight little tea ball once it was dry. Desmond had seen him do that several times now but still looked amazed when he did it. Malik got a lot of use out of his tea like that which was good because since the Eagle War the land it used to be grown had been partially destroyed. Most of the tea had once been grown in the northern mountains, especially around Alshain and Tso Ke but Malik had ripped up a lot of the land there to make a point. It was coming back but fifty years was only one human life time. It would take more time yet for all the things Malik had broken to come back to their old strength.

He tucked the tea ball into his pack and snuffed out the fire. Then he laid down with a yawn. The sun was fairly high in the morning sky by now and after a long walk all night Malik was exhausted, Desmond even more so. Malik was still getting situated and when he looked over saw that Desmond was already asleep, the flap of his bedroll draped across his head and eyes to block out the sunlight. Malik did the same and mercifully slept without dreaming.

—

They’d arrived at dawn and in the imperfect early morning light the city was soft and backlit by a pink and yellow sunrise. Malik had not been exaggerating when he’d told Desmond Altair was a big city. It stretched to the horizon in both directions in the middle of a huge lake that was fed by the rivers from all over Eagle. Altair came into view a few hours before they were actually close enough to see it in full as a smudge in the distance before it blossomed like the flower it was with the passing of time and distance. Desmond just stopped and stared once they got closer to the shore. Osetalla was a large city in the land of Bezek and had swelled in size after the city of Bezek had been raised but it had nothing on Altair. It was truly massive and was the largest city Malik had ever heard of. Maybe the city that surrounded the grand temple of Sirius far to the east of Rigel would be bigger but there were only a handful of stars brighter in the sky than Altair. His city, by definition, was greater than others. Even before the Compass Cities had been destroyed none of them had stood up against Altair’s magnificence.

Buildings rose up from the raised and levied island like neatly coordinated boxes, each of them made of gleaming white, yellow, and pink sand stone bricks and painted in stunning murals. Some buildings coordinated their paintings and showed larger scenes that splashed across entire streets. Even at a distance you could make out some of the scenes. In the middle, barely visible at this distance beyond all the buildings, was the tip of the huge tower that sat in the middle of Altair’s temple.

He looked at Desmond and the boy was just staring open mouthed at the city. Malik chuckled. “Cmon,” he said.

“H-how do we get across,” Desmond squeaked.

“Well, normal people pay a toll and take a ferry of some sort. I really don’t like boats,” Malik said and stepped down the shore.

It took more than a simple hand wave for this. Stars, and thus Malik’s, heart of magic lay in fire. Their magic was icy so they had to keep themselves aflame to not be killed by the very nature of their freezing existence. So fire, explosions, and destruction came easily with magic because fire was, at its most basic state, something that ate, consumed, and destroyed. In opposition it meant water and liquid were much more difficult to deal with. Malik usually just didn’t deal with them because it took a few extra seconds of concentration and took a little more magic. But he really did hate boats. They always made him seasick and it was undignified for the priest of Altair to get seasick and throw up on a ferry to or from his star’s city. He much preferred to walk.

Malik drew a mark in the air, leaving a trail of shining fire light in its wake and it burst when he completed it and Malik’s boots felt a bit warm. “Desmond, c’mon,” he beckoned to the boy still on the shore. “Unless you want to take the ferry?” Desmond quickly came down to the edge of the shore. “This will make your boots hot, so don’t freak out,” Malik said and drew the same mark in the air.

Desmond still jumped a little. “What did you do?”

“You’ll see,” was all Malik said and took a step into the water. As he did the water shot away from where his boots touched. He walked into the lake and the water crawled away from where he walked creating a wall on all sides of him and a few feet around him in all directions. The wall was over his head when he looked back to check on Desmond. He could see Desmond through the wall of water and he was still standing on the shore. “Hurry up,” Malik called and laughed when Desmond started. “The magic doesn’t last forever.”

He waited just to make sure Desmond followed. He stepped tentatively into the water. Then, with greater confidence as water rose up around him strode towards Malik. Their columns of air met. “This is amazing,” Desmond said, eyes so wide they looked like the moon. “I didn’t know you could do this.”

“I did tell you names like Godkiller were my least interesting names, didn’t I?” Malik asked him and continued on towards the city. Desmond followed after.

The island was a mile and a half from the shore and as they got near it the land mass rose up in front of them like a massive wall. Desmond had his neck craned back to look up at it as they came up against the slick algae covered mass. The city soared a good two hundred feet above them. Malik put his hand against the rock and gave it a little push. The entire face shifted and with a great grinding sound Malik pulled a stairway out of the very island. The steps themselves were dry for the most part, at the very least were free of slick algae. Desmond stared at that too. Then Malik started up the stairs and Desmond followed.

At least for a little bit. Desmond got tired from the stairs fairly quickly. “Malik,” he said when Malik stopped because Desmond hadn’t anticipated how tiring the stairs would be.

“Hmm?”

“Is this… just what life is like with you? You just don’t think about doing impossible things all the time? You didn’t… really talk a lot or do this much on the way to Aquilae, which I understand and all. But is this normal with you?”

“That’s a silly question,” Malik said. “Of course it is. I use magic all the time. Going from your town to Aquilae I was— anxious. Anxiety does not mix well with magic. I thought something bad was going to go down in Aquilae; and I was right. But the danger is over now too so there’s no reason for me to feel anxious.”

“So you just do ridiculous and impossible things all the time then?”

“I have told you; I’m not just Godkiller or Firestorm or Orphaner. Before the Eagle War… it was different. You grew up after it, you can’t really understand. Now are you ready? The mark is going to wear off fairly soon and I don’t fancy getting caught in the wave.”

“Right. Of course,” Desmond got to his feet with a grunt and got to the top of the stair well without having to stop again.

A few people had gathered by the edge of the stairwell, confused as to what was happening and how a staircase had appeared when there hadn’t been one there before. Then they saw Malik and all their questions were answered in a single moment.

Unlike elsewhere in Eagle the citizens of Altair didn’t look away from Malik or steal glances or directly move away from him as quickly as possible. Here the horrors of the Eagle War were only nightmare stories happening to people far away from themselves. They weren’t afraid of Malik and in Altair his older names were still more common to hear than the ones he’d earned during the Eagle War. They nodded politely to him when he and Desmond stepped onto the street but did walk away. They weren’t drawn to his spectacle of existing for so long anymore. If he wanted them to actually be amazed by him he had to do something amazing. Some children did linger and gasped when he tapped the top stair with his foot and the entire staircase went back into the island.

“Keep up now, Altair is an easy place to get lost in,” Malik told Desmond who nodded dumbly. Desmond followed after him but was openly staring at everything around them.

The smaller buildings didn’t have grand murals like the larger ones but were still decorated with brightly colored paint of flowers or fish or animals. They complimented the fact that most of the buildings had little plots out front of either grass filled with flowers or had been turned into gardens. Most buildings also had porches and people used the space as gathering areas to see friends or watch people walk the streets. The streets themselves were neatly ordered paving stones made of white granite with sidewalks of painted limestone. Of course the paint on the sidewalk was worn away in places but it was part of a festival every year for people to paint the sidewalks in front of their homes with things they wished to forget or forgive over the year so that foot traffic and rain would erode it from both the sidewalk and their minds. The deeper they got into the city the more magnificent the murals became. Those on the edges of the city often depicted basic landscapes or animals that could be seen easily from afar but deeper in the city the buildings had people painted on them or magnificently detailed landscapes. Some buildings, trying to one up their neighbors, commissioned murals done entirely in mosaic.

Desmond kept close to Malik. Osetalla had been Desmond’s first real venture in lots of people in one place but Altair was a teeming throng of people that moved about back and forth across the streets with ease. It was also loud as merchants called out wares or animals brayed from both pulling carts and from their stock holds. Deeper in the city the streets and sidewalks were filled with people with the city guard walking amid them in their deep red livery making sure things stayed orderly. The town Desmond had grown up in had been about two hundred or so people. Altair contained several tens of thousands of people and they all had places to go and things to do and you better not get in their way.

None of them got in Malik’s way. There was about a foot air bubble around him on all sides from people keeping a respectful distance from him so they didn’t bother him. The fact that he had a tall man in full western style plate armor didn’t even factor into it.

Eventually they made it to the temple and the crowds thinned. The temple complex itself was massive and made up of several domed buildings and nine minarets. The tallest minaret was perched atop the large central building in the middle of the complex and topped with a magnificent golden star many times larger than a man. Once the temple of Altair had also served as the palace of the king that ruled over Eagle by a perceived divine right. That had been put to an end when Malik had come to Eagle. Altair had literally kicked the ‘divine king’ out of his own palace and told them it would once more be his temple and that it would be home of his priest. Malik had been mortified at the time but now knew it was just Altair showing off to Malik and hoping Malik approved. Now the king lived in another palace across the city but had since dropped saying they were ‘divine’ since Malik was around to tell them to fuck off.

If the city of Altair was an exhibition in showing off the temple complex was then on a completely other level. Every inch was covered in mosaics made of both perfectly polished tile and gemstones and what wasn’t covered in mosaic was exquisite carvings of plants and animals painted in perfect, true to life, colors. Long ago one of Altair’s first priests had been a craftsman before Altair had found them and made the entire temple himself in Altair’s honor. It, of course, had sparked the first Eagle War with his siblings being too jealous of the beautiful temple and had found their own priests to worship them and because they naturally bickered anyway they used their priests as an extension of their own infighting. That had been the last time all gods of Eagle had had priests at the same time. It had been far before Malik’s time.

Desmond looked up at the huge temple in open wonder. “What is this? Is this the palace I’ve heard about?” he asked.

“Hmm? No. This is where I live,” Malik said.

Desmond looked at him so fast he nearly gave himself whip lash. “You live here?” he demanded.

“Yes, of course. This is the temple to Altair, in his city. Of course I live here,” Malik said. “C’mon now, we can rest here a bit before we continue on to your town.”

Desmond was still in shock but followed after Malik. The great courtyard that welcomed them led up to a set of perfect pink marble stairs into the largest building. Malik walked into the building and Desmond clanged behind him in his plate armor. Inside the biggest building it was mostly empty on the inside with a huge antechamber held up by columns of ancient tree trunks brought in from the north west and painted in the colors of dusk and dawn with thick gold bands wrapped around each one. At the back of the hall was a throne that had been there since the temple had been created as a place for Altair and had been later used by the king. Now it was the backdrop of an altar where a collection of people dressed in white and gold robes where kneeling in front of, praying. Altair’s clerics.

Malik gave them only a passing notice. Honestly he wanted to lay down in his bed for a little while and eat some real food. He hadn’t been back in Altair in weeks since Bezek had come to him on his little excursion to get away from these clerics.

The clerics heard the both of them and Desmond at least knew better than to ask things even though Malik was sure the boy was bursting with questions. As they walked past finally one of the clerics tried to stop them as they tried to make it back into the temple proper. “You there, you can’t- Oh. Malik,” they said.

Malik stopped only briefly. “Did you need something?”

The cleric got to their feet. The others lifted their heads to watch. “You were gone for some time and another star… well it, how to say-

“Yes, I made Tarazed go nova. Don’t wanna talk about it.”

“O-oh! Of course. Of course,” they swallowed and nervously adjusted their high collar. Malik saw fear in their eyes. “Ah… who is this? Is this the paladin we’ve heard about?”

“Paladin?” Desmond was as confused as Malik.

“This is Desmond, my sword bearer. We’ll be staying a few days, no more, and then I am taking him home.”

“Ah. I see. Well, everything was left for you.”

“Good. We’ll talk later, I am in need of a wash.”

“Oh! Of course. How thoughtless of me, you must be exhausted from your journey here. Don’t allow me to keep you any longer,” and the cleric bowed deeply to Malik and stepped away.

Desmond followed Malik when he started walking again. “Who was that?” Desmond whispered once they were away.

“An annoyance,” Malik rolled his eyes. Desmond didn’t ask anymore. Malik showed him to a cleric’s cell he could call his own and then went to his own quarters at the back of the temple that overlooked a vast and beautiful garden. There gardeners were gently tending to the flowers there in the midmorning light.

Malik entered the apartment that had once been the rooms of a king and before that other priests. It was huge and decadent made of perfectly smooth and light pine wood and covered in elegant paintings and wall scrolling. A pair of huge windows overlooked the garden and the floor was wood so shiny Malik could see his face in it. He’d lived here for the entire time he’d been in Eagle and it had taken him years to get used to the size of just how huge it was even now. The main sitting room was as large as his childhood home and his bedroom was nearly as big. There was also a library and an office and a training room and a bath with a pool so large he could actually swim in it. Ornate and perfectly placed pieces of art dotted the walls and potted plants hung from elaborate wrought iron hooks and were filled with flowering hanging vines.

Malik went to his bedroom and removed his armor and clothing all the way down. He was covered in dirt and sweat and smelled like an armpit. At the very least he hung up the armor and left the cloth in a basket he’d leave out front his door for washing. He just wanted to wash all this disgusting road dirt off himself and maybe wash off the feeling of regret that he had stabbed Tarazed. At least Altair hadn’t asked him to stab Alshain. He wasn’t sure if he could have actually done that.

Normally you were supposed to wash your body before getting into a bath tub but Malik really didn’t give a fuck today. He walked right into it with a pleased grin. Thanks partially to magic and partially to just genius engineering the bathing pool in the priest’s apartment always circulated perfectly warm water. Running water had since spread all across Eagle and Malik loved every moment of it. So much better than back in Rigel where he’d grown up where they didn’t have running water. Malik sunk down to his eyeballs into the pool and the water around him turned grey from the dirt. The flow of water pushed it away eventually and Malik grabbed soap to wash his hair and body. He ended up sitting on a seat that lined the edge of the pool feeling relaxed and good. He did doze off a little since it was very late for him with the sun almost at its apex.

When he woke he pulled himself out of the pool and dried himself off with a hand motion. His bed beckoned him and he crawled into it and promptly fell asleep.

He woke a bit after dusk and stretched before laying heavily back down on the bed. He looked up at the ceiling and wondered why the hell he’d woken up by himself. It took him several minutes to realize that this usually happened now but it hadn’t always been like this. Time moved faster the older you got and things that seemed to have just happened had been going on for a while. It used to be when he was in the city Altair would come down and Malik would often find him having crawled into his bed during the day.

Malik pushed himself up on one elbow. “Altair,” he said. “Altair, come here.” He waited but as time stretched on Altair didn’t come. “Really?” Malik asked, looking up at the ceiling which was painted with an elaborate mural of the Eagle constellation. “I know you’re awake, come here.” Malik waited some more but still Altair didn’t come. Malik lay back in the bed, annoyed, for several minutes before his stomach demanded he get up. He rolled out of bed and got dressed in some common clothes, one shoulder and part of his arm exposed from the how large the neck of the shirt was.

Once he was dressed he left his room and went to find Desmond. He found the kid in his cell, polishing his armor. Malik knocked and opened the door to see him doing that, “Hey,” he said. “Hungry?”

“Yes!” that was a trick question. Desmond was a tall kid, big too, he was always hungry. He put his armor away and jumped to his feet, following after Malik.

Malik showed him to one of the smaller buildings in the temple complex and the cook there bowed when they saw Malik. They’d just finished dinner for those who lived during the day but had breakfast ready for them in no time of well stuffed camdari shells of fragrant fruit paste and sweet raw quail yolk on top. The camdari shells crunched when you bit into them and Desmond only ate it because Malik did. They didn’t have camdari in the west, they only lived in the lake around Altair. Here it was local fare to have stuffed camdari for breakfast since they basically kept forever and were cheap to get but tasted great.

When breakfast was over Malik said, “We aren’t going to stay long. A day or so.”

“Just a day?” Desmond asked, deflated.

“Afraid so,” Malik nodded. “I’m sure your father misses you by now and you left with only telling your neighbors.” Desmond sighed. “I’ll have one of the clerics show you around Altair at least so-

Malik didn’t even flinch at the woosh of flame that sprang up in the building. Instead he just turned and looked at Altair, then looked down. “You burned another ring in a lesser house, Altair,” he scolded him.

Altair looked down as well at the wooden floor. “Oh. My mistake,” he said and delicately took a step away from the singed floor boards.

“I called you this morning. Where were you?” Malik asked him.

“You called me?” Altair asked. “I didn’t hear you.”

“Yes. I did. Where were you?”

Altair looked very confused. Then he looked even more confused. Tarazed’s last words echoed in the back of his head as he said, “I don’t remember.” Then he shrugged. “No matter. Did you need something? I heard you say my name.”

Malik gave him a look, “I was speaking of the city.”

“Oh,” Altair frowned.

Malik slid out of his chair. “But since you’re here you might as well stay. One of your clerics is going to show Desmond around. I could use the company before we leave again.”

“Alright,” Altair nodded.

Desmond followed Malik out of the lesser house and he took Desmond to where the clerics were doing post dawn prayer. It was a simple matter of getting someone to show Desmond around the city. The head cleric looked like they wanted to speak to Malik but with Altair around they were all cowed and reserved. Malik was glad Altair was there. He really didn’t want to speak with these clerics. It was all ceremony with them. They just didn’t get it that Altair hated ceremony. He didn’t want ceremony.

Malik went back to his quarters but didn’t go into them. Instead he walked out into the garden. Altair followed him and when he found a place to sit Malik just made the grass grow thicker so he didn’t have to sit on the dirt. Malik sighed contently as he leaned back on his elbows. “Feels like we haven’t done this for some time,” he said as Altair joined him.

“Done what?” Altair asked.

“Just been here,” he laid back. Between Malik hating staying in one place for long and Altair deciding he needed to go somewhere Malik rarely just stayed in the temple. Above the stars of Eagle twinkled, the shape of the wings filled in with a thousand lesser stars and nebula. There were two stars missing now. Altair didn’t say anything to him and just lay next to him. “Are you upset with me?” Malik asked him.

“What?” Altair asked.

“Are you angry with me?” Malik looked at him.

Altair looked very confused. “No. Why would you think that?”

“You never just come see me anymore,” Malik said. “Used to be you’d just come and spend the day with me, regardless of where I’d lay my head. Or you’d walk with me in the night. Have I done something?”

“What? No!” Altair pushed himself up some. “You haven’t angered me at all. Do I come across as such?”

“The last time you spent so much time away from me you were angry at me about Deneb,” he said. “Remember when you wouldn’t kiss me for a few decades?”

Altair’s face dropped a little. “Have I been so negligent?” he asked, more than a little stricken.

“Not as much,” Malik assured him. “I just miss you.”

Altair frowned at him. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

“It just occurred to me that you aren’t with me all the time anymore,” he tugged a little on Altair’s deep red sleeve. “Happened so slowly I didn’t even notice. Where do you go at night?”

Altair stared at him. “Nowhere. I just…” he shrugged. “I have no good excuse for why I do not spend time with you.”

“Are you bored of me?” Malik asked.

“What! No. Never,” Altair said fiercely and to Malik’s great surprise Altair kissed him firmly. So hard it was more like smashing their faces together, pressing Malik’s nose down. Altair didn’t want Malik to get it into his head that Altair did not feel for him. It made him feel a bit better honestly. “You are mine. Only mine and I love you dearly,” Altair said, holding Malik’s face in both hands. “Do not ever think anything other than that,” he said firmly.

Malik smiled a little. “Alright,” he said. He reached up to touch Altair’s face and he kissed Malik again. This one wasn’t so fierce and was sweet and kind. When they parted he said, “I still miss you, though. We’re leaving tomorrow. I want you to come with us.”

“Us? Who’s us?”

“That boy who made my sword. I’m taking him home to his father now.”

“Ah,” Altair nodded. He was hesitant than he nodded, “Yes. I’ll do that. I’ll come with you. It has been a while,” he admitted.

“Good,” Malik said. “I missed you.”

“I’m sorry for that,” Altair said. “That was not… my intention.” Malik just nodded and smiled again when Altair kissed him.

—

The next night Malik met a very exhausted Desmond in front of the temple. He’d stayed up half the day to see Altair when more people were about and was tired from not as much rest as he was used to. He was in his full armor again, the last of the sun’s afterglow making it sort of sparkle and the eagle motifs burned the color of the sunset. Altair had gone off and said he’d rejoin the two when they left the city. He wasn’t interested in having to walk through the city if he couldn’t help it.

“You ready to go home?” he asked Desmond.

“No,” Desmond sighed. “The city is… amazing. Like nothing I’ve ever seen,” he lamented. “I wish I didn’t have to leave.”

“Heh. Yes. Though I’m sure your father will be happy to see you’ve returned home safe.”

“I suppose,” then Desmond realized something. “Where’s the sword?

“I left it in my quarters,” Malik said and started off, his talismans jingling as he walked. “I don’t have need of it now.”

“Oh… do you still think it’s evil?”

“It killed a god, Desmond. It is an evil thing. I don’t need to carry it with me everywhere.”

“I’m sorry,” Desmond said.

“It isn’t your fault. You didn’t know what it was. You couldn’t even feel its energy. There is no reason to be sorry.”

“You’re very understanding, Malik,” Desmond said.

Malik glanced up at the Eagle in the sky. “I find it better to be understanding than to act rashly or to blame people for things they have no control over. So I prefer understanding and acceptance.” Malik didn’t say that it also made it easier to not feel so guilty for the things he’d done this way. It was easy to let guilt consume you. It was harder but better to face it with understanding and acceptance. That he’d done horrible things. He didn’t let it consume him. It would have been easy to do so. There was so much blood on Malik’s hands. He decided accepting it was better way to handle it.

They made it out of Altair with only minor distractions from Desmond. Where they went Malik would sometimes hear a muttered ‘paladin’. He didn’t stop to correct them. Like before they walked along the bottom of the lake with some mark magic and ended up on the western shore.

“So, where is he?” Desmond asked Malik.

“He’ll show up. He wants us to be away from the city before that happens,” Malik said and just started walking.

“Why doesn’t Altair want to be seen? Surely if people saw him walking about so many misgivings from the Eagle War would be forgiven. At least by the people,” Desmond said. “Just so they knew he wasn’t angry with us.”

Malik looked at Desmond as they walked. “It isn’t my place to tell Altair what to do, or yours.”

“I know. But why doesn’t he?”

“He doesn’t like being seen. He’s odd like that. Bezek enjoys walking the fields so people know the harvests will be good. Altair’s not like that. He’s private.”

“Oh.”

They walked in silence but Malik still thought about what he’d said. Altair hadn’t always been that way. He’d once accompanied Malik everywhere. No one recognized him of course because he so rarely came down from the sky before. He did his best to remember the past century. When he’d first arrived in Eagle Altair had rarely been up in the sky and as the decades passed he’d spent more and more time there. Now he spent most of his time there and only rarely came down to the earth.

Around midnight when they stopped to rest and eat Altair appeared in a tower of flame. At first Malik thought it was someone else. Like Thailmain or Tseen Foo since he was dressed head to toe in black with a deep hood. Thailmain always dressed in black and indigo the rare times he came to the ground. He was the only one who didn’t care that Malik had destroyed his city. He wasn’t interested in the goings on of Eagle. “Sorry I came so late,” Altair’s voice came from the hood and that was how Malik knew it was him. Malik frowned.

“What was the issue?” Malik asked him.

“Nothing,” Altair said and joined them around the little fire, mainly to help Desmond see in the dark. Even in the light Altair looked like the void shaped like a man. There wasn’t even a drop of color or light on him and Malik had trouble seeing the top of his face.

He pulled Altair’s hood back some so he could see him better. For a second he swore Altair looked angry, pupils hissing white before it was gone. “What are you wearing?”

Altair looked down like to make sure he was dressed. “Clothes?” he asked.

Across the fire Desmond was just watching, slowly eating his meal. “You almost done, Desmond?” Malik asked him. Desmond nodded, mouth full but hands empty. “Alright. Let’s be off then,” Malik said and got up. He kicked the fire and it snuffed out, scattering apart in an instant with more force than his boot could muster. Desmond’s armor clinked as he got to his feet and picked up his things.

It was dark now without the fire, the moon only a fat wax crescent, and Altair’s form looked darker still when he stood up next to Malik. “Malik if you keep making that face it’s going to get stuck like that,” Altair said and put his hands on Malik’s face, using his thumbs to smooth out Malik’s frown and furrowed eyebrows. He hadn’t even realized he’d been frowning.

“And what if I want wrinkles?” Malik asked him but didn’t push Altair’s hands away.

Altair cocked his head to the side, “I don’t know why you’d want to look old,” he said.

Malik rolled his eyes and just started walking. Altair kept pace with him and Desmond followed behind in the darkness. “After this do you need me to go anywhere?” Malik asked him.

“No,” Altair said. “Why?”

“Because I think I will stay in the city a while. I want you to stay with me as well.”

Altair didn’t say anything for a few minutes. “Is this about last night?” he asked, at last, his voice coming out of the man shaped darkness that Malik knew too well to be afraid of.

“Yes,” Malik said and reached out to grab Altair’s hand. “I miss you.”

That eased whatever worry was in Altair’s chest because he leaned over and kissed Malik on the cheek. “Alright.”

They talked some as they walked but of nothing of import. Desmond mostly asked them questions about the city and what it was like and who lived there and how it sustained itself out in the middle of the lake. Malik answered as best he could but it wasn’t really something he knew a lot about. He was literally at the top of the pyramid as far as class was concerned. He didn’t even bother to think about how things were dealt with below him. It was classist but Malik had once been nothing from another town who didn’t appreciate him and had earned the affection of a literal god. Why the hell would he worry about how a city was supplied anymore?

As the sun started to rise Malik heard Desmond’s yawns become more frequent. Not nearly as wide as Altair’s. “You’re so dramatic,” he scolded the both of them.

“The sun is up, I'm tired,” Altair said as the stars started to dim overhead.

Malik rolled his eyes. “We're almost to a town.”

“Good, then I don't need to stay,” and before Malik could say anything Altair disappeared in a gout of fire. Malik glared at the singe mark on the ground.

“He always do that?” Desmond asked.

“What? Act like a baby about the sun? Yes,” Malik huffed. “We are almost someplace we can rest so let's get going and we can sleep in a bed tonight.”

“Okay,” Desmond said and followed Malik. “Malik, can I ask… what's it like?”

“What's what like?”

“Having the attention of a God?”

“Sometimes it's very annoying,” Malik huffed.

“You don't mean that.”

“Sometimes I do. But it's nice, I suppose. I never want for anything. Even if Altair didn't exist I'd always have what I needed because of my power. It is nice having a city to call my own.”

“I hope this isn't too intrusive but… where are you from, Malik? You don't look anything like the people of Eagle save for your darker complexion shared by us.”

“I come from a very far away place, Desmond. Out beyond the Cloud Rift where each town worships its own star and each town is part of its own chain so we looked like constellations strung across the land when you looked at a map.”

“Wow, that sounds so different,” he frowned a little. “I can't imagine a land like that,” he admitted. “It's too much. That there is a place not watched over by the Eagle and our nine gods… well, seven now I guess,” he frowned. “I know there are other gods but I was taught they were dangerous, violent, horrible things. That only because of the Cloud Rift created by the Eagle are we kept safe and secluded from them.”

Yes, Malik had been hearing that teaching slowly emerge over the past hundred years. It troubled him that it coincided with Altair becoming more and more distant from him. “They are dangerous,” Malik said. “But gods are not violent towards humans. We are too insignificant to them. They enjoy when we are violent because they are by nature and that's why we sacrifice to them. Or rather, why men do.” Women didn't have to give blood to the gods. They gave blood once a month. That was their sacrifice while men had to prove themselves that they could give blood of equal worth to them.

“Hmmm,” Desmond said and had much to think about. They finished the way to the town to Desmond's pensive silence. Malik purchased them a pair of rooms and dinner at the local inn, or rather a breakfast they ate as dinner. The innkeeper was very polite and tried not to take Malik’s money until he insisted. He took it then because good manners was well and good but you didn’t want to actually anger the priest.

After dinner Malik retired early though Desmond stayed awake to speak to the inn keeper and others who were too nervous to speak to Malik. How funny that they were more comfortable talking to a young man in full plate than they were speaking to Malik with his more light weight armor that looked more like clothes than actual armor. Malik just made himself some tea before sleep and slept deeply into the day, keeping the shutters and curtains closed tightly against the brightness of the sun outside.

When Malik slept he dreamed of the sun. The sun sat in a blue sky full of clouds. Twilight came and darkness crept across the sky but the sun remained where it was in the dark sky with the moon as company. There were no stars and it was just those two points of greater light in the sky. He watched the sun crack like a pane of glass and shatter into a thousand different little diamonds.

He woke up and the sun was setting. He blinked from his pillow and yawned widely. The dream was already slipping away. All he remembered was that he dreamed of the sun.  It was an odd dream. It wasn’t like he didn’t see the sun anymore. He yawned again and stretched his arms above him. He heard things going on below on the street and pushed himself up to lean on the sill. He pushed the shutter open and looked down onto the street. Desmond was down there in his padding he wore under his armor, dragging a man along by the scruff. There were some people gathered around the entrance of the inn speaking in hushed tones of concern.

“Oi!” Malik called out to him.

Desmond turned and looked up. “Oh, Malik. Sorry for waking you,” Desmond called back up to him.

“What’re you doing?” Malik pushed himself further out the window. The setting sun made the shadows long.

Desmond looked down at the man. He wasn’t struggling. “Local was getting out of hand. Guess you didn’t hear him. Bit too much ale.”

Malik cocked his head at Desmond. “Where you taking him?”

“Back to where he comes from,” was all Desmond said.

“Mmm.” Malik pulled himself the rest of the way out of the window and there were a few startled yelps when Malik jumped out of the window and landed lightly on the ground just under it. He made a surprising appearance still dressed for bed and having jumped out of the window. Malik gave the man in Desmond’s hand a second look. He had a beautiful shiner on the left side of his face and was unconscious. The inn keeper was there and Malik turned to him. “That true?” he asked them.

“Lester’s known to cause a ruckus,” the innkeeper nodded. “Better to just get him drunk enough so he passes out from the drink than argue with him.”

“And what happened now?”

“He was drunk, causing a scene with my maid when the young paladin came downstairs to see what was going on. He tried to peacefully get Lester to leave and… well, he didn’t right like that. There was an altercation.”

“Did that altercation involve Lester getting punched?”

“He deserved it, Malik,” Desmond said from where he was still standing in his armor padding.

Malik ignored him. “Yes. It did,” the innkeeper said.

“This happens often?”

“Yes.”

“Lester’s a drunk? Known problem?” The innkeeper hesitated. “You can tell me. I’m a priest.”

“He is a problem. Can’t keep a job, lives out in a hovel outside of town. Any money he does get he comes and spends in my inn on drink. Dunno how he gets the money. Suspect he plays a highwayman during the day. Don’t ask,” they shrugged. “He used to be a nice fellow. Just snapped a few years ago and became a drunk. Not sure why.”

Malik frowned and turned away. He walked over to Desmond and crouched in front of Lester. “Let him go,” he said.

“Malik I was protecting myself-

“I know. I’m not angry with you. Now let him go.”

Desmond frowned but obeyed. Malik caught him by the face with two hands. “Wake up,” he said. Lester woke with a start and immediately went swinging. Malik just glanced at his hand and it and his entire body froze. “Hello Lester,” he said.

“The fuck you?” Lester asked.

“My name’s Malik. I’m the priest of Eagle. I heard you’ve been causing some trouble for your town and neighbors. That true?”

“S’what?” Lester slurred a little.

Malik gave him a little tap on the cheek. “Speak right,” he said firmly. “And know who you speak to.”

Lester’s eyes cleared of alcohol. He blinked and looked up at Malik. “Priest,” he said with complete clarity.

“Yes, I am,” Malik stood up, keeping his hands on either side of Lester’s head. Lester moved to his knees, head tipped up to Malik. “Now Lester. The innkeeper has told me you’ve been very bad lately, causing trouble, robbing from people. That true?”

“N-no-

“Do not lie to me,” Malik said sweetly, his hands warming dangerously.

“… Yeah. I been robbin’,” he said.

“Well you’re going to stop. You’re going to stop drinking too. This town doesn’t need you as a problem. Whatever happened to you years ago to make you like this I am sorry for. It must have been something terrible and you surely didn’t deserve it. But this behavior is unacceptable in this town, in Bezek, and in Eagle.” He lifted one hand off Lester’s face and drew a mark on his forehead in the shape of a stylized eye. Lester’s eyes watered as it burned his skin with a warm glow. “If I see you disrupting this place again, bothering the maid in the inn, out robbing or drinking too much this will know. You think the black eye the paladin gave you hurts now? The mark will make sure you stay on the straight. Do we have an accord?”

“Y-yes priest,” he stammered.

“Good,” Malik said. “I’m glad.” Malik released his face and Lester scrambled away, touching his forehead. There was no physical mark, his forehead was totally smooth. Instead his fingers passed across the mark drawn in light. “Desmond, go back inside. We’re going to be leaving after breakfast and I don’t want to take too long.”

“Yes, Malik,” Desmond said. He still sent a dirty look at Lester before going back into the inn. The sun had finished setting by now and the world was a collection of shadows and darkness at the edges.

Malik went over to the innkeeper again. “He shouldn’t be a bother now. I do apologize for the trouble he’s caused.”

“It- it- thank you kindly, priest,” they said.

Malik just smiled a little. “Desmond and I will require a meal before we leave. I’m going to get dressed and would like it to be ready.”

“Of course!”

Malik walked past and into the inn. The rest of the early evening patrons all looked like they’d hastily returned to their seats and were doing their best to not stare at Malik. He ignored them and went upstairs to the room he’d rented. He finished getting dressed and when he came back downstairs he found Desmond still in his armor padding surrounded by people who were asking him about what Malik had done. Malik cleared his throat loudly and everyone darted away. He and Desmond found a seat and food was brought immediately.

“You do that normally?” Desmond asked him.

“When I have to,” Malik said, eating without pause.

“So you’ve done it before?”

“Mhm. It’s not Eagle magic. Not really at least. I just adapted Eagle style magic for my purposes.”

“What do you mean it’s not Eagle magic?”

“Well; it’s a curse,” Malik said candidly. “Not big on curses in Eagle. It’s more a town chain thing. My brother told me about curses. They’re not quite magic so alchemists could use them.”

“Oh… what’s an alchemist?”

“Like a cleric or paladin,” was Malik’s explanation. Desmond looked thoughtful. “That it?” he asked when Desmond didn’t ask anymore.

“Yes? Was I supposed to ask something else?”

“Most people are surprised I have a brother and ask.”

“You’ve been in Eagle a long time Malik,” Desmond said. “I’m not going to ask you about your dead brother, that seems insensitive.”

Malik chuckled. “Smart boy,” Malik agreed.

They finished their breakfast and Desmond went to go put on his armor and get his things. Malik followed suit and gathered up his pack and things. He had to wait for Desmond outside in the early evening. As he did he looked up and east a bit to see the Eagle in the sky. It looked like a crippled bird and Malik frowned. Desmond appeared before he could dwell too much. “All set?” Malik asked him.

“Yes,” Desmond nodded. “Where’s… uh, our friend?” Malik smiled a little. Desmond didn’t want to speak Altair’s name so he wouldn’t feel uncomfortable.

“He’ll join us once we leave the town,” Malik assured him. He glanced back at Eagle and saw Altair still up in the heavens. Desmond followed Malik out of the town.

“Malik,” Desmond said once they were out of the town and alone on the road. Malik grunted to show he was listening. “What was Bezek like? Before I mean?”

“I prefer not to talk about it,” Malik said.

“Right, of course. Sorry,” Desmond stammered. Then he ventured again, “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you do it?”

Malik looked at him, “You will not like the answer. You sure you want it?”

“Yes,” Desmond said. “Everyone always talks about it. Even in my hometown people wonder about it. There was never an Eagle War like that one.”

“And there won’t be again,” Malik said firmly. Desmond nodded. “I did it because Altair told me to,” he said. Desmond’s pace slowed a little but Malik didn’t wait for him. If the kid needed a moment to work through that he could do it alone. As he thought Desmond didn’t like the answer.

As they walked Altair joined them and made up to pace with Malik. “Morning,” he said in greeting. He was in deep reds today, so bruised and dark they were practically purple. There was a fine pattern in the fabric made of gold and light that draped low over part of his chest showing off his collar and left shoulder under which he wore a black and grey patterned shirt. He wore a kufi that was pitch black with little red triangles along the bottom and Malik considered that an improvement over the hood.

“You look nice this morning,” Malik said.

Altair’s pretty amber eyes brightened a little, shifting to more gold a moment, and he smiled. “You think so?”

“Yes. Very northern of you. You visiting your sister before you came or something?” He of course meant Alshain. Before the Eagle War she and Altair had been very close. It was as close to what stars could get to to twins.

“Hmm? No. I haven’t seen her in some decades,” Altair said, he didn’t even sound sad about it. The slight smile Malik wore dropped.

“Maybe we should visit her when we’re done here,” Malik said.

Altair grimaced, “Let’s not.” Malik didn’t say anything to that and eventually Desmond caught up with them again. He was still curious about things around Eagle and Malik was a perfect resource.

They walked all night and in the morning Altair left them and Malik found them another town to sleep in for the day. The next evening was less adventurous than the previous but when Malik woke up the next morning he found Desmond was gone. His things were still in the room but the armor was gone. Malik didn’t bother with his own armor and just wore more comfortable clothes to go look for him.

He found Desmond down the block helping with some sort of disagreement of some sort. He just stood there in his big armor, arms folded. No one noticed Malik approach and he looked rather unassuming outside of his own armor and lacking any signifiers that he was a priest unless you knew what he looked like. The two people in the argument were doing so over the ownership of a litter of puppies. The bitch belonged to one and the male, belonging to the other party, had gotten her pregnant on accident but the person wanted ownership of some of the puppies since they were good sheep dog stock.

Desmond listened to both of them for a few more minutes before lifting his gauntlet covered hand. They quieted immediately. “Finus has to pay for the upkeep of the puppies since Jaren is the one keeping them and making sure they’re healthy. Since he’s paying for their food and any calls to the veterinarian in the town over he gets two of them when they’re old enough to be separated from their mother.”

“That isn’t-

“Would you rather I side more with Jaren on this one?” Desmond asked him. “You could get nothing since you didn’t control your dog and if anything you should have to pay for them anyway for inconveniencing Jaren so much getting his best dog pregnant during the busy season for him and good sheep dogs are not cheap to buy or breed. Now you can take the offer or fuck off. Makes no difference to me,” Desmond said firmly.

Finus looked at Jaren, frowned, and muddled it over. “Fine,” he huffed. He extended a hand.

“Knew we could have an understanding,” Jaren said and shook it firmly. “I’ll send you any bills.” Finus grimaced but didn’t disagree. The two men walked off.

“That was interesting,” Malik said and Desmond, bulky armor and all, jumped and spun towards Malik. “What was that about?”

“They were arguing in the street and someone came inside and got me. Said it wasn’t important enough to bother a priest over but a paladin could weigh in.” Then, suddenly shy, he said, “I don’t think I’m one of those really.”

“Altair isn’t… really a paladin sort of star,” Malik said apologetically. “He has clerics but he isn’t really into the whole organized religion thing. He enjoys worship but on a more personal basis.”

“I figured that since he’s so secluded. But I… well I wasn’t going to say no when people needed some help before the argument grew into an actual fight.”

“Of course,” Malik said nicely. “You did good,” he patted Desmond’s big shoulder. “Let’s go get some breakfast and get out of here. Hmm?” Desmond nodded and followed Malik back to the inn. They ate, Malik changed into his armor, and they left the town. That night Altair came in deep pinks and indigo in a southern style of loose and billowing clothes that covered every inch of skin including the top of his head with a loose hood held in place with a gleaming headband across his forehead made of starlight.

They found a new town before morning came. “I should-

“Stay, please,” Malik said when Altair acted like he was going to leave already. “It’s dark yet, you aren’t even tired.”

Altair pulled a face but nodded. Despite being so early some things were open already and people were moving to go about this business and start their work for the day. Malik felt a little bad waking the inn keeper so early. If you could call it an inn really. There wasn’t even a tavern attached. It was literally just the biggest building in the town and rented out spare rooms to tired travelers. He had Desmond get the rooms since he knew Altair would draw attention. This far west and north no one wore loose southern clothing and most wore three quarter sleeves with shirts that buttoned along the side of the chest. Left for women, right for men. They were closer to Desmond’s home town now and would arrive at it in another night or so. This town marked where the river ended in a large, deep, lake. Not as big as the lake surrounding the city of Altair, but it was plenty big.

Desmond came back, his face rosy and flustered from something or another. “Everything go alright?” he asked Desmond.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, went fine,” Desmond nodded. “My accent surprised them, that’s all.”

“Why would it? You’re from Bezek,” Malik said, confused. Desmond grimaced and glanced at Altair who wasn’t paying him any mind. “Oh,” Malik said knowingly with a nod. They hadn’t expected a ‘paladin’ to sound like one of their own.

“They were really nice,” Desmond continued. “Surprised we were stopping here when there’s a city so close. Just round the lake bend she said.”

“Because this lazy one here doesn’t walk in the daylight,” Malik said. Desmond’s eyes got huge when Malik roughly grabbed Altair under his chin by both cheeks with one hand and gave his head a soft shake.

“Ah! Malik,” Altair huffed, yanking his face out of Malik’s hold. “You’re so rude.”

“You’ll forgive me,” was all Malik said.

“And I can’t help I have trouble staying awake in the light. I’ve literally had that sleep cycle for tens of thousands of years,” he rolled his eyes. “You thought becoming nocturnal was difficult,” he scoffed.

“C’mon, Desmond got us a place to sleep.” Altair ‘hmmd’ and followed after him. There was no one in sight when they walked to a side door and were greeted by a short hallway with doors.

Desmond showed them to one, gave Malik the key and he opened it. “I uh… only got two rooms.”

“That’s fine,” Malik said. Altair gave a noise of protest when Malik shoved him into the room and closed the door with a solid click. Malik held the door knob even as he felt Altair try to turn it. “You didn’t give them all my cash did you?”

“No,” Desmond said. “They gave me a deal,” he flushed, “Since I’m from Bezek. I didn’t have the heart to tell them that that I’m from the north side of the river.” That made Malik chuckle.

“This is a strange river,” Malik agreed. It made the border between Bezek and Tseen Foo and was often both the provinces and neither of them. Most other provinces had less easily distinguished borders but the divide in their people was greater. Where Bezek and Tseen Foo met the border divide was very clear cut but the people were nearly identical. Malik held his hand out palm up. Desmond dropped his change into it. Unlike back where he’d been born where the coins were round the coins in Eagle were all different shapes so you could tell what you held by feel alone in your pocket. “And it was just that they thought you were from Bezek?”

Desmond grimaced, knowing he’d been caught in the lie, and in a low tone said, “They said they’d feel bad if they charged a paladin full price. I… didn’t tell them otherwise.”

“I’m glad you were truthful with me.”

“I don’t like lying but—“ he looked at the door. Altair had given up trying to open the door and had gone off to investigate the room. “They’re just stories you know.” He shrugged. “I’m gonna settle in. The owner said we were welcome to join them for breakfast down in the dining room in an hour.”

“We’ll be there,” Malik said. Desmond nodded and awkwardly retreated to his room next door. Malik opened the door to Altair lounging on the bed, entertaining himself with magic, bored already. “I left you alone for less than five minutes,” Malik huffed.

“Felt like forever,” Altair said.

Malik went over to the bed and took a knee on it. “You’re one to talk when you spend so much time away from me.”

“I do?” Altair seemed confused. His brows drew down over his eyes. “Do I?” he asked Malik.

Something is wrong with him. Malik couldn’t help but think Tarazed’s madness filled last words. “No,” he lied. “I just am needy is all,” Malik leaned down and kissed him. Despite not being cold yet it still warmed him from the inside out like Malik had just taken a shot of strong alcohol that didn’t burn his throat. “Breakfast is in an hour, I’m going to take a bath.”

“Is that an open invitation or are you just telling me?” Altair asked, eyeing him.

“I dunno. Have you been ignoring me or not?” Malik asked and left him there. Malik went to the bathroom down the hall and drew himself a bath of cold water, turning it hot with a bit of simple magic. He was soaking in the water when the door opened a little and a pair of amber eyes peered in through the crack. Malik acted like he didn’t see him. He looked up, not moving his head when a pair of arms came around his shoulders and down the front of his chest. Altair’s long sleeves pooled in the water turning dark in the water, the dark color running up his arms turning the sunset pink almost the color of blood.

“Malik, you know I love you, right?” Altair said.

When you feel like it, Malik thought but didn’t dare say it. “Yes,” Malik said.

“Good,” Altair said moving his hands down Malik’s torso. For a split second his hands were unkind, the perfectly manicured nails digging into his stomach. It was so brief Malik was sure he’d imagined it because Altair nuzzled his neck and pressed a kiss against his jaw. Altair eventually joined him in the tub.

They were in there until there was a knock on the door. “Malik? You in there?” Desmond called.

“Yes, what is it?” he called back.

“‘Breakfast is ready.”

“Mmm. Be down in a moment,” Malik said and heard Desmond walk away. “You going to join us for breakfast sleepy head?” he teased Altair who was already dozing against his chest.

“If it means I have to get up from here, no,” Altair said, as cranky as a child.

Malik chuckled. “Well I’m hungry. So get up, I want to go have dinner.” He pushed Altair off him despite him complaining and whining. Malik wasn’t impressed by that and got out of the bath. He snapped his fingers and dried the water off his body and ran a hand through his hair to give a bit more attention to drying it so it didn’t get all frizzy and puffy. He gathered up his clothes, pulling on the long undershirt and left the bathroom back to his room. He dressed casually and went downstairs to the dining room where Desmond was already there with the tired from waking so early in the morning family of the boarding house owner. He sat down next to Desmond.

“He’s not joining us?” Desmond asked him.

“No. You know how moody he gets in the morning,” Malik rolled his eyes a little.

“I guess,” Desmond grinned a little. The table was fairly quiet for breakfast. The children of the owner stared at Malik and Desmond the entire time but had probably been told very sternly to not ask questions or bother the priest and ‘paladin’ during breakfast. Malik was just happy to have some quiet honestly.

Towards the end of the meal the teenage daughter looked towards the door and her eyes got wide. She dropped her fork with a clatter on the plate, mouth falling open. Malik looked where she was staring. “Oh my!” the lady of the house cried.

“Really?” Malik asked Altair, unamused. Altair was standing in the doorway, naked as could be, too lazy to even have magicked himself dry and simply was allowing his natural heat to evaporate the water from his skin. It caused his body to steam a little.

“What?”

“Put on some damn clothes, Altair!”

Altair looked down at his nakedness. “Oh. Knew I forgot something. Ah well,” he didn’t do it anyway. The man had covered his daughter’s eyes by now. Not that Malik exactly blamed her. Altair was a perfect male specimen.

“Altair, put on some clothes before you make everyone uncomfortable.”

“So?” he asked. “I’m Altair, I can do whatever I want. Besides, this is probably the most exciting thing that’s happened here in a while,” he said with an infuriating smirk.

Before Malik could do anything Desmond got up from the table. He grabbed the edge of the table cloth and Malik was actually impressed when with a sharp yank he pulled the cloth out from under all the tableware without disturbing a single glass. He walked over to Altair and wrapped it around his waist. “Your holiness, it’s improper for young people to see a man like this.”

“Well, luckily for them I’m not really a man,” Altair said. Then he realized what had just happened and gave Desmond a scrutinized, puzzled, look.

Malik had his face in his hand at this point. He sighed and pulled it away and down his face. “I apologize,” he said. “I assure you he’s usually much more… grand than this juvenile behavior.”

“That- that’s-“ they finally seemed to get it. The lady promptly fainted and Malik caught her.

“Desmond, be a good lad and take him out of here, please,” Malik said.

“Malik I don’t-

“Just figure it out,” Malik groaned.

“Uh—“ Desmond swallowed. “If you could stop inconveniencing your priest that’d be great. We just wanted dinner.”

“Whatever,” Altair said and walked out of the room. Desmond glanced at Malik before following after Altair nervously.

Malik still had his arms full of the lady of the house. “I really apologize,” he said sincerely to the man.

“That was really him?”

“That really was Altair, head god of Eagle, yes,” Malik said. “Oh for fuck’s sake,” Malik groaned when he fainted too. “And what about you three? You going to faint too?” he asked the children. There were two teenagers, a boy and girl a few years apart in age, and a younger boy.

The little boy shook his head, not quite knowing how to react to two fainted parents but looked about to cry because he didn’t know what to do. “He doesn’t always walk around without clothes on?” the girl asked.

“No.”

“Too bad,” she said. That surprised Malik so much he almost let go of her mother when he laughed.

“And you?” he asked the teenage boy.

“I think I like men now.”

“He has that effect, yes,” Malik couldn’t help but agree. He hadn’t really liked men before Altair either. “Why don’t you help me get your folks somewhere comfortable hmm?” He nodded and got up to help Malik. Once both parents had been placed somewhere comfortable Malik left the children to deal with them. He just said they’d be staying the day and leaving at sunset and not to worry about dinner.

Malik found Altair already passed out on his bed still wearing the tablecloth and Desmond had obviously retreated to his own room by now. Malik went over to the bed and got in but didn’t lay down. Instead he grabbed Altair’s face in both hands and played with his cheeks until he woke up. Which he did with an annoyed whining sound.

“What?” Altair whined, batting at Malik a little.

“You are so annoying,” Malik said.

Altair opened one eye. “I should smite you for that.”

“No you won’t,” Malik gave him a look. “Why did you do that downstairs?”

“Because I could,” Altair finally pushed Malik’s hands away. “Now come to bed. I’m tired,” he yawned widely.

“Why must you be so difficult, Altair?”

“I’m not. I just don’t care. There’s a difference,” Altair grumbled and snuggled back into the pillow. Malik huffed at him and took off some of his clothes. He joined Altair in the bed and Altair snuggled against him.

“You made that young man gay you know,” he said idly.

“Wouldn’t be the first young man I’ve done that to,” Altair said, eyes half open. Malik felt himself flush. No it wouldn’t be since he’d done the same thing to Malik. Jerk. “Now shush, the sun is well up and it’s late. Go to sleep,” he put a finger gently on Malik’s lips. Malik rolled his eyes and wasn’t surprised when Altair fell asleep immediately. Malik fell asleep shortly after.

At sunset they set out. They probably wouldn’t reach Desmond’s home that day but definitely the next. Desmond didn’t seem pleased about it. No, Malik supposed not. When he got home it’d be the end of his adventure.

When they stopped for the midnight meal Altair didn't join them by the fire right away. Instead he stood out in the darkness looking up but at nothing Malik could see. Malik started a pot of tea while Desmond went off to find a rabbit burrow or something because he was tired of cold food during the midnight meal. Altair came back before Desmond and sat next to Malik, leaning against him while Malik waited for his tea to steep and was rummaging in his pack for his rations.

When Desmond came back with a rabbit Altair sat up and watched him. He had a strange look in his amber eyes. Desmond took off some of his armor, mainly the chest plate and the gauntlets before skinning and gutting the animal. Then he looked around for a stick before Malik just used a bit of magic to make it slowly spin in place above the fire to cook. “Good job,” Malik said.

Desmond shrugged, “Was tired of jerky and hardtack,” he said.

“Heh, yeah,” Malik agreed.

“Where did you get that armor?” Altair asked him suddenly.

“Hmm? My father made it. It's his finest work. Really pulled out all the stops for it,” Desmond said proudly.

“Not the sword I had him make?”

“... He didn't make it. I made it. He didn't know how to work the metal but I did.”

“So that's why it took so long,” Altair said. He was still staring at Desmond and the kid was starting to fidget from the scrutiny. “So you stole your father's prized armor and went with Malik to Aquilae. Doesn't sound like the thing a good son does.”

“Altair,” Malik scolded him.

“No, it's okay,” Desmond said. “But well… this is my armor. My father made it for me. I figured if I was going to go on an adventure with Altair's priest out into the dark of night I should be dressed for it.” He patted the pieces on the ground and it clattered a little.

“Why'd your father make you something you'd never actually wear? Especially shaped like that?” Altair asked. Malik was confused by that.

“They were my favorite story growing up,” Desmond said shyly. “He made it when I was thirteen, supposedly for ‘when I was older’ but there's no use for this armor.”

“What story?” Malik asked.

“You don't know?” Desmond asked.

“I'm a transplant here. I don't know all the songs and stories of Eagle there are,” Malik said. “Just as you wouldn't if you went to live in the town chains for years.”

“It’s in the style of paladin armor. A very, very, long time ago, back when Eagle Wars were a bit more common there were a group of people in Eagle,” Altair said. “They were known as the Convocation.”

“I swear you people take your bird shit too seriously,” Malik huffed.

Altair gave him a stern look. “This is new to you?”

“Oh stars no,” Malik said. “I'm just saying is all. I don’t really know a lot about the paladins. The clerics speak of them sometimes but I always got the feeling it wasn’t something they wished to talk about.”

“They were knights,” Desmond said. “And star champions. Not like priests are though. They weren't chosen by the stars. But they satisfied their—” he realized what he'd been about to say and who was sitting across from him at the fire.

“You can say it. The Convocation satisfied our vanity,” Altair said. “None of us were under any impressions that they didn't start off as a means to stroke our egos to improve things in Eagle or gain favors.”

“Oh… well, with them around there weren't as many Eagle Wars because they fought each other instead. Sometimes they killed each other and it was entertaining. They also tried to make Eagle a better place. They fell out of favor a few hundred years ago but we still talk about them all the time in Tseen Foo since there was a very famous one from there, legendary even. His name was Rami and they say he could walk on water and planted ten thousand pine trees that make up the Green Trim. He was a great warrior and fought in a lot of mock wars for Tseen Foo. He never lost a single fight. Well except one,” Desmond frowned a little. “But all the provinces have paladin stories. There were a lot.”

“Any for you?” Malik asked Altair.

“For my entertainment? Yes.” Altair was practically dismissive of them. “I had a hundred. They weren't like clerics or alchemists. They didn't pretend to know the stars. They knew what we were and appeased us the way we wanted.”

“So why did your father make you armor you'd never wear if paladins are all gone?” Malik asked Desmond.

He was more than a little flustered about the question. “I just… Rami is an old hero but people still tell his stories. I liked his stories. I always said when I was a grown up I wanted to be like Rami. That's obviously impossible since the paladins are all gone but I was too little to understand that. My father made this anyway to show off and as a present, though he never intended me to wear it. It's supposed to look like Rami’s armor from the stories.” He looked at Altair but Altair didn't say anything.

“That… is such a strange thing to me,” Malik said. “And nice that your father would encourage your interests. Mine didn't understand mine.”

“No?” Desmond asked, seemingly anything to not talk about himself anymore.

“He was a potter. It was a big thing in my home town. It sat near a huge clay deposit that made very fine ceramic. I don't have very artistic hands. They hold a sword better than work a wheel. Doesn't matter now,” he shrugged. “Now let's have that rabbit. Smells good. Looks done.”

“Oh, yeah sure,” Desmond said and Malik deposited the rabbit down somewhere where Desmond could cut it better.

Between the two of them they ate it without hassle. Altair just leaned against Malik, watching Desmond the entire time. It made Desmond uncomfortable and shy away from Altair's eyes. He didn't say anything, he just looked at Desmond. When they finished Malik rerolled his tea ball and they picked up their camp. Desmond put on his armor awkwardly and Malik pushed Altair off him so he could get his things together. They got up and Desmond followed after Malik.

They stopped for the day along the river but not at a town. Altair was complaining too much about the amount of people so it was probably for the best. They ate dinner but before they'd finished Altair was already curled up next to Malik. Malik got him to wake up long enough to crawl into the same bedroll as him (Malik had specifically brought a larger than normal one this trip in case of this very reason) and Altair tucked himself under Malik's arm.

When Malik woke the next evening the sun had already set but Altair was gone. He woke up and saw both he and Desmond were already awake. Altair was standing, facing the afterglow of the sun in his red and orange thobe. Desmond was sitting at the fresh fire warming water for tea. He looked visibly upset and upon closer inspection Malik saw he was shaking.

Malik climbed out of his bedroll and went over to the young man. “Hey, everything alright?” he asked.

That made Desmond jump. “Huh?”

“You look upset. Are you okay?”

Desmond looked at him, then at Altair who was further away from them, back facing them. His silhouette cast a long shadow across their camp. Desmond leaned over to him to tell him softly, “He's mean, you know.”

Malik scowled. “What did he say?”

“Why the paladins fell out,” Desmond said. “They… they had too much hubris and thought they were too close to the gods. And they didn't fall out of favor. They just killed each other out of vanity.” He cast his eyes down. What a thing to hear about people who were looked up to as heroes. Especially Desmond who had such hero worship for his provinces paladin, Rami. “He said I should remember that before I go around pretending.”

“He did now?” Malik asked him, angry. He couldn't believe Altair! Desmond, like most people, loved Altair, despite what he'd had Malik do to their country. Despite the last Eagle War Altair was still the most worshiped, the god who received the most gifts, the one who was most loved. And he'd just said such horrible things to a boy who loved him.

Malik got up, patting Desmond on the knee as he went. He went over to Altair and grabbed his hand. “Good morning,” he said pleasantly. “It's a lovely sunset.”

“It is,” Altair said and looked at him. “You are more so.”

Malik wasn't going to let him get away with being cute after being an asshole. He did appreciate the cuteness though. “Yes, I am. Will you walk with me?”

“Of course,” Altair said. They walked towards where the sun had set.

Malik didn't say anything until they were well out of Desmond’s earshot. Then he stopped and turned Altair to face him. “What is the matter with you?” he demanded.

“What?” Altair seemed genuinely surprised.

“Why did you say those things to Desmond? You didn't have to be cruel to him.”

“I just told him the truth of things-

“Don't you know it is always a bad idea to tell mortals the truth of things?” Malik asked him harshly. Like when he’d told Desmond about why he’d destroyed the compass cities. Altair tried to pull his hand out of Malik's grip but Malik wouldn't let him. “Desmond is one of yours,” he went on. “He loves you Altair, you are his star. More so than Tseen Foo.”

“He acts like something he isn't,” Altair growled back.

“He's a boy, Altair. A boy traveling with a god and his priest like something out of old stories told in Alshain and Aquilae.” He tugged on Altair's hand roughly when Altair looked away, trying to get out of the blame. “Desmond has never called himself a paladin. Only everyone else has. He knows he isn't one. This is an adventure to him. You need not be so cruel to tell him how his heroes died or make yourself look like such a villain.”

“Even when I am?”

That made Malik angry. “You are not! You are the head god of Eagle. You are the furthest thing from the villain. You don't need to act like you are!”

“Why do you care so much, Malik? He's a stranger.”

Malik looked at Altair, shocked he’d say such a thing. His shock gave way to hopelessness. “Because that's what made you chose me in the first place. Because I cared for a stranger who fell out of the sky without any clothes and didn't even know his name. You chose me because I show compassion even to those I do not know.” He released Altair's hand. “If you speak like this than it is you who is a stranger to me, Altair, not Desmond.” He walked away from Altair and Altair did not follow him. His chest hurt, heart feeling heavy. When had Altair become so horrible and neglectful of everyone? He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment as Tarazed’s warning echoed in his mind. Something was wrong with him. And just what was Malik supposed to do about it?

—

They arrived at Desmond's home town just before sunrise. A few of the fisherman, always early risers, saw them first and rushed over. They spoke to Desmond with wonder and pride and told him his father was angry and worried he'd left. Malik figured as much would be true.

The smithy was on the other side of the town and had a water wheel attached in order to work the great billows without too much labor. Along the way they were stopped seemingly every ten feet by someone of the town. It was like they knew Desmond had come home and they had all heard the rumors of a so called paladin. A paladin come again, and from their town no less! They were very excited and eager to ask Desmond about where he'd been and what he'd been doing. It usually took a minute or so for them to look past Desmond's mirrored breast plate to Malik standing just behind him in his lacquered armor, ochre cape over one shoulder. And then their eyes would travel to Altair standing next to him dressed splendidly in clothes Tseen Foo lumberjacks wore of reds and greens and heavy boots with spikes in the toe to help them climb the great conifers of the North West, the clothes more finely made than any they’d seen before. They usually stopped their talk then and humbly moved along, eyes down and bowed respectfully to Altair and his priest. It still took them well past sunrise to make it across the small town. Malik quite enjoyed himself and Desmond just humbly tried to explain that he wasn't a paladin and there wasn't need for this sort of fuss. It didn't help.

Finally they arrived at the smithy. Malik could tell Altair was annoyed he was being kept up so late but Malik saw he was also staying on purpose to prove Malik wrong about what he'd said the other night. Malik appreciated his stubbornness.

Desmond pulled a set of well made keys out of his bag and unlocked the building. “I don't know if you want to come in-

“Yes, of course. So I can tell your father what a fine young man he has,” Malik said. Desmond smiled uneasily. He opened the door to the shop.

“He's probably still asleep. He never wakes up early anymore,” Desmond said and went behind the counter. Altair walked around the shop, looking at everything and admiring the work, as if to assure himself that it was good that he'd selected Desmond's family to make that evil sword. Desmond took off some of his armor and set it on the counter. “Uhm… I could get us some tea while we wait for him to wake up if you wanted.”

“I think that would be a fine idea. And Altair can nap,” he smirked when Altair gave him a dirty look.

“Alright I'll go start some you can come through the back-

The door opened. “What's all this racket? Can't you see we ain't open?” Desmond father, William, asked. Malik could tell he was very hung over; maybe even still drunk from the night before. He hardly noticed Malik and Altair and just saw Desmond. “You! You got a lot of nerve coming back here you little thief,” he snarled at Desmond. Malik's hand drifted to down to his dagger at his waist. “Leave without warning, took the priest sword and the armor. Look at cha. Pretending like always. Get inside. Now.”

“Dad I was-

“You back talking me?” William practically yelled.

“No, dad, I was just-

“In the house. Now. I'll deal with you in private. And you,” he waved a drunken finger at both Malik and Altair accusingly. “Get off my property before I call the guard. We ain't open!”

The door slammed shut once Desmond had passed over the threshold. Malik looked at Altair who looked back. “Charming,” Malik said. Altair scoffed.

They waited a minute, just to see if Desmond would tell his father they were there and the door would be opened with an apology. Instead they heard William yelling at Desmond. What exactly was lost through the wall and distance but the intent was clear. William was furious and sounded violent. Malik looked at Altair and he was staring at the door and his eyes slowly turned searing yellow white in anger. Malik took his hand off his dagger. This would be interesting. Malik was looking forward to it honestly.

Altair went over to the door. It was locked but Altair just blew it open with a bit of magic and it crashed against the opposite side of the wall. Malik followed after him and it wasn’t hard to find the father and son. William was not a small man, even taller than Desmond and twice as wide thanks to working in the smithy his entire life. He had Desmond in a painful looking headlock while he yelled at him. He stopped when he saw Altair. “I told you to get out. You aren’t allowed on my private prop-

Altair had had quite enough of this. Malik folded his arms to enjoy what was going on when Altair used a little magic to lift William up off the ground like Altair had his hand around his throat. Desmond was released and he dropped to his knees, gasping as he could finally breathe normally. Altair’s pretty human form melted away as he walked over to William and was replaced by something vaguely human shaped made of fire and left charred footprints on the wooden floor. “How dare you,” Altair’s voice sounded like a roaring fire. “How dare you speak to my paladin like this. How dare you lay your filthy mortal hands on the boy who made my priest’s sword when you and your father failed for fifty years. You must think very highly of yourself when you and your father failed me so much when I blessed you with the privilege to forge a legendary weapon. Then to treat the boy who did what you could not as you do. How dare you have so much hubris. I should burn out your eyes for this. I should turn you to char for your failure. I should leave you for sky burial in Tso Ke.

Malik went over to Desmond and helped him up while Altair lectured his father. Desmond stared, wide eyed at Altair’s fiery star form. Altair looked over at the both of them. “Are you alright, Desmond?” he asked him.

“Ah— yes, you’re holiness,” Desmond stammered. “He didn’t harm me.”

Altair’s white eyes narrowed and he looked back up at William who was struggling against an invisible hand around his throat that was burning the shape of fingers into his flesh like a brand. He dropped William and the big man crashed onto the ground, gasping and crying from the pain of having the skin of his throat burned and charred. “You don’t deserve the things you’ve been given in blessing. May you forever have misfortune knowing you pissed off Altair of Eagle you pathetic, mortal, waste,” Altair said. Then he looked at Malik and that was all the acknowledgement Malik needed. He pushed Desmond away from the man towards where the bedrooms were.

“Malik-

“Get the rest of your things,” Malik said.

“What? I thought Altair didn’t like me?”

“He’s a fickle thing. Now go along. We’ll be going back to Altair now.”

Desmond was in shock but did obey. Malik looked back at Altair where he was standing over William who was moaning in pain of his burned throat. He was still in his flame form, crackling gentle in the still air. Desmond didn’t have a lot and came back with a bag. He was staring at the image of Altair standing over his father and Malik had to push him along to the exit. Malik picked up Desmond’s other bag, shoving the gauntlets into it so he could keep Desmond moving out. Altair followed eventually.

“You didn’t kill him, did you?” Malik asked in his native tongue so Desmond couldn’t understand them.

“No,” Altair said in the same tongue, layered with the sound of flame. “Not that I did not consider it for how he disgusts me.”

Desmond was very much lost and confused and didn’t know what was going on. “What?” he asked.

“Let’s find somewhere to spend the day,” Malik said in a way Desmond could understand. “I’m tired.”

“Are we really going back to Altair?” Desmond asked.

“Yes,” Malik said. “I’m sure the clerics will be thrilled.” Desmond looked very concerned. Malik just acted like nothing had happened. As far as he was concerned Desmond was an orphan like so many orphans Malik had made fifty years ago. Malik had made many friends with orphans and personally helped build orphanages in places after he’d ruined the cities so there would be a slightly lesser amount of unhappiness in the world after he’d burned it to the ground. “Now where is a good place to stay in this town, Desmond? An inn?”

“Y-yes. There’s an inn,” Desmond said.

“Well lead the way,” Malik motioned. Desmond nodded mutely and walked off, still stupefied. Malik looked at Altair who was still all fire. “I’m glad you’re not really a stranger, Altair,” he told him and leaned over, kissing his flaming lips. They didn’t burn Malik. During it Altair shed his fiery form for one of flesh and blood. He smiled at Altair held his hand before following after Desmond to where they could get some food and shut eye.

If you read and/or enjoy this fanfic a reblog would be very appreciated so other people can learn about this fic as well.

#Assassin's Creed #Altair #malik al sayf #Desmond Miles #altair ibn-la'ahad #They Were Giants