“If it is this country than it is us,” Ezio said and before Leo could ask he was moving on, “The other honor is to become a guard of the prophets. Only those who have taken a certain number of feathers and proven their skill can be one of them.”
“What’s so special about it? Wouldn’t guard work be easy?”
“It’s an honor,” was all Ezio said, “Without the prophets much of our civilization would collapse. To be the guardians of them is something we all strive for.”
“Even you?”
“Yes. Altair and… our brother were on their way to being ‘hit men’. But then we were brought here.”
“Can he still be one?”
“Of course. He has his wings, and after surviving so long in hostile territory and able to retain his skill, I wouldn’t doubt he’d have trouble getting such rank.”
Leo frowned but said nothing, instead mulling what Ezio had just said over in his head. It hadn’t really occurred to him he supposed that when the Rifters returned home they’d go back to doing what Rifters did, or more, what the media portrayed Rifters doing, which was killing. The idea of Ezio killing someone made him uncomfortable, though he knew the young man had before, especially the night they’d brought Des home and he’d been covered in blood that wasn’t his. For some reason he was fine with the idea that Altair killed people, he had the attitude for it, cold, stoic, almost like a machine at times, but not Ezio.
“What about Des?” Leo asked after that long silence, they were over half way back to Leo’s place now.
“If he can, he’ll finally get his training. I don’t… really know what they’ll do with him. His class requires so much trust, and he has so little of that,” Ezio frowned. “It is yet to be determined,” he finally said in a deciding voice.
“He won’t have to kill anyone will he?”
“No, he doesn’t have the training, it is practically to late to even start. He’s to old for warrior training now even if he was in the class.”
“That’s good,” Leo said before he could stop himself, “I can’t picture Des doing such a thing.”
“Can you picture me?” Leo glanced at him though also tried to keep his eyes on the road.
“I don’t know how to answer that,” he said truthfully, “I don’t want to offend you.”
Ezio didn’t reply at first then he snorted with a little smirk, “You’re smarter than you look,” he told him and Leo didn’t quite know what to make of that.
—
Leo was surprised at the speed in which finally, at last, the movers decided now would be the time to go. It had been less than a month since they’d first arrived at Leo’s house and now Gilberto had told them the day before that they’d be arriving the next day. It was practically surreal. He was also surprised at how much it would hurt to say goodbye, though none of the Rifters had even seemed bothered by it. That made sense he supposed since they were all wanted to go home.
He’d been working when Francesco came and got him, saying Mr. Malik was here. He’d almost forgotten Malik since he had not seen the man in such a long time it seemed. He followed Francesco to the living room where Malik was sitting, his fingers steepled in front of him looking pensive.
“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Leo tried to be relaxed and cheerful as he sat opposite Malik at the coffee table where he always used to play Checkers with Salai. That had felt like a life time ago.
“Yeah, I’ve been busy, as you can guess,” Malik said apologetically. “I just—” he rubbed his face. He in truth looked exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes his mouth worn and tired.
“Would you like some coffee?” Leo asked.
“Ah, sure,” Malik said as if surprised Leo would offer him something, no doubt he thought Leo was still angry with him about lying. Leo however wasn’t nearly that petty. He got up from the couch and went to the kitchen where he could hear people moving around in there.
Re: Clipped (16c/?)
“What’s so special about it? Wouldn’t guard work be easy?”
“It’s an honor,” was all Ezio said, “Without the prophets much of our civilization would collapse. To be the guardians of them is something we all strive for.”
“Even you?”
“Yes. Altair and… our brother were on their way to being ‘hit men’. But then we were brought here.”
“Can he still be one?”
“Of course. He has his wings, and after surviving so long in hostile territory and able to retain his skill, I wouldn’t doubt he’d have trouble getting such rank.”
Leo frowned but said nothing, instead mulling what Ezio had just said over in his head. It hadn’t really occurred to him he supposed that when the Rifters returned home they’d go back to doing what Rifters did, or more, what the media portrayed Rifters doing, which was killing. The idea of Ezio killing someone made him uncomfortable, though he knew the young man had before, especially the night they’d brought Des home and he’d been covered in blood that wasn’t his. For some reason he was fine with the idea that Altair killed people, he had the attitude for it, cold, stoic, almost like a machine at times, but not Ezio.
“What about Des?” Leo asked after that long silence, they were over half way back to Leo’s place now.
“If he can, he’ll finally get his training. I don’t… really know what they’ll do with him. His class requires so much trust, and he has so little of that,” Ezio frowned. “It is yet to be determined,” he finally said in a deciding voice.
“He won’t have to kill anyone will he?”
“No, he doesn’t have the training, it is practically to late to even start. He’s to old for warrior training now even if he was in the class.”
“That’s good,” Leo said before he could stop himself, “I can’t picture Des doing such a thing.”
“Can you picture me?” Leo glanced at him though also tried to keep his eyes on the road.
“I don’t know how to answer that,” he said truthfully, “I don’t want to offend you.”
Ezio didn’t reply at first then he snorted with a little smirk, “You’re smarter than you look,” he told him and Leo didn’t quite know what to make of that.
—
Leo was surprised at the speed in which finally, at last, the movers decided now would be the time to go. It had been less than a month since they’d first arrived at Leo’s house and now Gilberto had told them the day before that they’d be arriving the next day. It was practically surreal. He was also surprised at how much it would hurt to say goodbye, though none of the Rifters had even seemed bothered by it. That made sense he supposed since they were all wanted to go home.
He’d been working when Francesco came and got him, saying Mr. Malik was here. He’d almost forgotten Malik since he had not seen the man in such a long time it seemed. He followed Francesco to the living room where Malik was sitting, his fingers steepled in front of him looking pensive.
“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Leo tried to be relaxed and cheerful as he sat opposite Malik at the coffee table where he always used to play Checkers with Salai. That had felt like a life time ago.
“Yeah, I’ve been busy, as you can guess,” Malik said apologetically. “I just—” he rubbed his face. He in truth looked exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes his mouth worn and tired.
“Would you like some coffee?” Leo asked.
“Ah, sure,” Malik said as if surprised Leo would offer him something, no doubt he thought Leo was still angry with him about lying. Leo however wasn’t nearly that petty. He got up from the couch and went to the kitchen where he could hear people moving around in there.