Not exactly to the letter, but I hope you enjoy, OP!
The first day of spring in Masyaf dawned innocuously bright over the Assassin fortress. Novices and Masters alike slipped out of their beds without fear of losing a few toes the moment their feet hit the cold stone floors of their rooms. The novices no longer needed to huddle together like a flock of birds to preserve body heat as they made their way to the practice ring for their lessons. They laughed and joked and fought as if the last few months of forsaking dignity for warmth hadn’t happened. Spring had breathed new life into them.
Even the master assassins were enjoying the pleasant weather. Their combat instructor, Rauf, was, if possible, even more cheerful than usual when the novices lined up for their lessons. It was almost disturbing especially when he was wielding a dagger and smiling just shy of manically. The novices casually shifted back, giving him a wider berth, and tried to encourage the unlucky student stuck in the ring with him. By noon, they were scrambling to get away for lunch.
After lunch, their instructor decided they would move onto sword lessons. A few novices had to lean on their peers when all of the blood in their body suddenly sank to their feet. What had happened to their instructor? Perhaps he had been possessed by a vengeful spirit. The poor novices had resigned themselves when an unwitting savior appeared. The first to notice him was a rather small and gangly novice, hiding on the fringes of the flock.
With their hoods up, all of the master assassins were indistinguishable from each other, but this particular master walked with a swagger attributed to only one man – the great eagle of Masyaf, Altair ibn-La’Ahad. Excited, he tugged on another novice’s robes and pointed out the assassin. Chatter broke out amongst the novices. While Altair was considered scary in his own right, the novices unanimously agreed that they would rather face off against him in the sparing ring than a possessed Rauf. Their instructor finally realized that he had lost his students’ attention, but his manic smile only grew wider at the sight of Altair.
“Ah, Altair!” he greeted the other assassin. “It seems my students do not fully understand what it means to wield a blade. Perhaps you could show them what you know?”
The novices held their collective breath at the longed for question. The master assassin tilted his hooded head, considering, before nodding in assent. A whoop rose from one of the novices near the middle of the flock before being hastily shushed. Neither of the older men seemed to have noticed or rather they were just used to the novices being an eccentric bunch. The master assassin leapt over the low fence surrounding the sparring ring with one brave novice scurrying over it after him.
Two hours later, all of the novices huddled together like frightened sheep in the courtyard, sans those who had been carted off to the medical wing, as a humming Altair stepped out of the ring with a slight smile on his face.
Re: Springtime = happy (minifill)
Not exactly to the letter, but I hope you enjoy, OP!
The first day of spring in Masyaf dawned innocuously bright over the Assassin fortress. Novices and Masters alike slipped out of their beds without fear of losing a few toes the moment their feet hit the cold stone floors of their rooms. The novices no longer needed to huddle together like a flock of birds to preserve body heat as they made their way to the practice ring for their lessons. They laughed and joked and fought as if the last few months of forsaking dignity for warmth hadn’t happened. Spring had breathed new life into them.
Even the master assassins were enjoying the pleasant weather. Their combat instructor, Rauf, was, if possible, even more cheerful than usual when the novices lined up for their lessons. It was almost disturbing especially when he was wielding a dagger and smiling just shy of manically. The novices casually shifted back, giving him a wider berth, and tried to encourage the unlucky student stuck in the ring with him. By noon, they were scrambling to get away for lunch.
After lunch, their instructor decided they would move onto sword lessons. A few novices had to lean on their peers when all of the blood in their body suddenly sank to their feet. What had happened to their instructor? Perhaps he had been possessed by a vengeful spirit. The poor novices had resigned themselves when an unwitting savior appeared. The first to notice him was a rather small and gangly novice, hiding on the fringes of the flock.
With their hoods up, all of the master assassins were indistinguishable from each other, but this particular master walked with a swagger attributed to only one man – the great eagle of Masyaf, Altair ibn-La’Ahad. Excited, he tugged on another novice’s robes and pointed out the assassin. Chatter broke out amongst the novices. While Altair was considered scary in his own right, the novices unanimously agreed that they would rather face off against him in the sparing ring than a possessed Rauf. Their instructor finally realized that he had lost his students’ attention, but his manic smile only grew wider at the sight of Altair.
“Ah, Altair!” he greeted the other assassin. “It seems my students do not fully understand what it means to wield a blade. Perhaps you could show them what you know?”
The novices held their collective breath at the longed for question. The master assassin tilted his hooded head, considering, before nodding in assent. A whoop rose from one of the novices near the middle of the flock before being hastily shushed. Neither of the older men seemed to have noticed or rather they were just used to the novices being an eccentric bunch. The master assassin leapt over the low fence surrounding the sparring ring with one brave novice scurrying over it after him.
Two hours later, all of the novices huddled together like frightened sheep in the courtyard, sans those who had been carted off to the medical wing, as a humming Altair stepped out of the ring with a slight smile on his face.