Malik was flying. His body weightless, his soul at ease and for a moment, he was free. He could feel the wind ripping at his clothes, he could hear the cry of an eagle as he rushed towards earth in a leap of faith. He relished the feeling and took a deep, calming breath. If it would only last forever...
Cold water hit his face and he came back to consciousness, his body heavy and a wave of pain rolling over him and leaving nothing behind but pure agony. The moments in which he lose consciousness were a blessing, a blessing they wouldn't grant him for too long. He moaned as he blinked his eye open and felt something running over his face, hot and sticky. Blood. A face came into his view, blurred and misshaped. The grimace of a demon grinning down on him, fire burning behind the beast's eyes and with teeth as sharp as the cool steel of a blade.
“Time to wake up”, the Templar said and Malik groaned some more as his foggy brain realized where he was and while he had thought all of it was just a nightmare, as soon as he was backhanded, his ears ringing, he knew that this wasn't a dream but reality he woke up into. Fingers twisted into his hair, pulling his head upwards and his focus returned and he saw Robert's face hovering inches in front of his. “Don't you have enough already?”, he asked in a soothing voice but for Malik the words felt like acid burning through his flesh. Malik coughed, blood running over his split lips and he flexed the fingers of his one hand, curling them into a tight fist his nails digging into his palm.
“I have nothing to say to you”, he gasped as the world started spinning again, his head feeling far too dizzy as if he was able to talk but he managed anyway.
He'd been here for hours now, maybe days or weeks – he couldn't tell anymore. But the two guards framing Robert were still the same and the warder stood a few feet away, watching all of it with curious eyes and a delightful grin dancing across his lips. Sadistic fucker. Malik's body felt broken, crushed, his skin was on fire while his bones felt as cold as freshly fallen snow. He could tell that it was a fever spreading through his body as he desperately tried not to break, trying his best to keep his body from shutting down. Maybe he wouldn't make it out alive. No, probably not. There'd be nobody send for his rescue – there were more important members of the Order, worth of risking other assassins lives but Malik wasn't one of them. He was replaceable, a cripple. He could draw maps still, but he couldn't climb anymore, couldn't fight in missions anymore. He had his limits and an assassin with limits was sooner or later a dead assassin. It seemed for Malik it was sooner.
Robert run a blade across his naked chest. He had cut away his clothes a long time ago and he pressed the cold knife hard against his rips, blood falling from the steel and staining the ground underneath Malik's feet. The first shock had already faded to a dull memory at the back of his head. It had faded as soon as the first wave of pain had hit him merciless. Now there was only pure, raw anger left in Malik. A spark which had become a fire, burning him alive. His will hard as iron to not give Robert the satisfaction to see him falling apart. No. The man had already taken everything which he hold dear. He wouldn't let him have his dignity, not his pride. Those were the two things Malik wanted to keep as it was all he had left now.
Robert's questions had been the same all the time. What were his Master's plans, what his goal? But for Malik it felt like as if those questions were nothing but a farce as if he would already know the answers to them. And of course there was Robert's longing for revenge, for humiliating him at Solomon's Temple. After all, Malik had managed to escape back then, badly wounded and with the Apple in his possession. Robert was a man who wouldn't tolerate such actions, that he made clear when he kept inflicting pain on Malik's body. This was not all about the Apple, about the war between Templars and Assassins. This was personal and Robert made sure to not let Malik forget that fact.
“You will and you know it. It only takes some time for you to break, telling me everything.” Robert sighed and run a hand over his bald head. “You could make it so much easier for yourself. Just tell me what I want to know and your suffering will come to an end. I think it sounds like a fair deal, don't you” He placed his hand next to Malik's head, palm flat against the wall he was chained to, leaning closer still so he could smell cheap wine on the man's breath.
Malik offered him an angry glare and kept silent. For a long moment Robert just kept staring at him, Malik's labored breathing cutting through the silence, followed by the screams of fellow prisoners. Then the Templar withdraw and stood in front of the wounded man. “Very well then”, he said and beckoned to the warder. He stepped next to Malik's side but as he reached for his wrist to loosen the chain, Robert stopped him with a small movement of his hand. He eyed Malik, smiling at him and Malik wanted to wipe it from his face forever.
“The one you've been with at the temple, more than a year ago”, he started slowly and Malik's body went rigid, not liking the sound of his voice. It was too calm. “He was more reasonable than you.”
“He was a coward”, Malik spat as he remembered Altair's face, the way he had looked at him as he stood in front of Al Mualim telling him about his failure before Malik could present the Apple. He immediately bit his lower lip – it wasn't wise to show Robert such emotions and indeed, the Templar lifted one of his eyebrows, looking with mild surprise at the Dai. His lips hold the shape of a small 'o' before he revealed another one of his ugly grins.
“Really? He was?”, he pondered. Robert nodded and tabbed his chin twice as he went back to his memories. “Yes, maybe you could call him that. He screamed like a pig when I killed him.”
Malik felt like as if a fist had hit him in the stomach and he slumped in his bindings.
Kadar.
Robert haven't been referring to Altair, but to Kadar.
The words hit a sore spot. He had tried not to think about it, to keep the memories away from his mind, to not let them consume him. Malik lowered his eyes. There was only so much he could take. Robert could torture him for days, weeks and he would gladly take the pain over the fact that he had failed so miserably at Solomon's Temple. He'd been forced to leave his brother behind and if it weren't for Kadar, fatally wounded and already at the brink of death, urging Malik to just go, he would have stayed with him and would have probably found his own death. Kadar's eyes had haunted him for months and only a few weeks ago his nightmares had stopped in which Kadar blamed him for his death. Malik was certain that if he should survive, the dreams would return – probably worse than ever before.
“Oh, you two have been close, haven't you?”, Robert whispered and the smile died on his face and was replaced by a mask made out of hate. “I heard the rumor that he was your brother”, he added. “Is that true?”
Malik didn't answer. Of course not. Robert held no right to talk about Kadar like that and he would never speak about his brother in front of the man who'd killed him. He owned him that.
The back of Robert's hand met his cheek, hard, and another bruise was forming. He could hardly feel the blows to his face anymore. It was swollen, probably purple and green and the right side of it felt already numb. It didn't hinder his head to flung sideways, the force great enough to make him see stars. “Answer me”, was Robert's demand and his words sounded muffled as if a cloth had been put over his mouth and Malik looked up. Robert's lips were moving again but his voice grew quieter and quieter and even if he would have wanted, he couldn't hear his voice anymore as the world became smaller and the edges of his view grew darker.
Somebody shook him forcefully, slapping him in the face to keep Malik awake and it hardly did the trick. Unconsciousness threatened to overpower Malik and he could barely stand. He would have collapsed a long time ago if it weren't for the chain holding his arm.
“Answer me!”
It was loud enough for Malik to understand now and he smiled emotionless and shallow, revealing bloodied teeth. “Why don't you just kill me?”, he murmured and his words were sluggish, refusing to talk about Kadar, to give an answer to his question. “I won't tell you anything”, he said again, his head rolling aside as if his spine had turned into goo, “let's just get over with this.”
“Oh, your death will come soon enough, assassin. But not today, not until I'm done with you”, Robert hissed, spittle flying from his lips and hitting Malik's face. “You will beg for your death just like your brother did. He cried out for you. He screamed for his brother to return. Tell me, did you hate him that much that you would leave him behind with the enemy?”
Malik didn't say anything, but lowered his eyes, looking down at Robert's chest. Those were lies, nothing but filthy lies! Kadar might not have been as stubborn as Malik, but he hold his pride dear just as the older brother did. He doubted that Kadar was still alive when Robert got to him. When Malik left him... and damn, it hurt so much to think back to that moment when he had looked at his brother for the last time... but when he left him, he was already closer to death than to life. It must be lies. He refused to believe anything else.
Robert pat his cheek and the touch itself burnt Malik. “Get him away... I have a meeting I need to attend to”, he stated casually and pointed one gloved finger at Malik. “Don't think that this is over. It isn't. I promise it's not over until you draw your last breath”, and with those last words, he spit into the Dai's face.
The warder's eyes came into Malik's view as Robert walked away with his guards and he just couldn't find the strength to scream something after him – besides, Malik wouldn't do that anyway. Robert wasn't worth it. He was as much worth as the dirt underneath Malik's boots.
“You won't make trouble, will you?”, the man asked and as he smiled he showed his rotten teeth. When the Dai didn't answer, the warder nodded. “I thought so but... just to make sure...”
He saw his fist coming as if time was slowing down and he could tell he was hit, blood invading his mouth once more but he couldn't feel it and when darkness finally came, Malik sighed softly with relief.
Re: FILL: Breaking Free 2a/3
Cold water hit his face and he came back to consciousness, his body heavy and a wave of pain rolling over him and leaving nothing behind but pure agony. The moments in which he lose consciousness were a blessing, a blessing they wouldn't grant him for too long. He moaned as he blinked his eye open and felt something running over his face, hot and sticky. Blood. A face came into his view, blurred and misshaped. The grimace of a demon grinning down on him, fire burning behind the beast's eyes and with teeth as sharp as the cool steel of a blade.
“Time to wake up”, the Templar said and Malik groaned some more as his foggy brain realized where he was and while he had thought all of it was just a nightmare, as soon as he was backhanded, his ears ringing, he knew that this wasn't a dream but reality he woke up into. Fingers twisted into his hair, pulling his head upwards and his focus returned and he saw Robert's face hovering inches in front of his. “Don't you have enough already?”, he asked in a soothing voice but for Malik the words felt like acid burning through his flesh. Malik coughed, blood running over his split lips and he flexed the fingers of his one hand, curling them into a tight fist his nails digging into his palm.
“I have nothing to say to you”, he gasped as the world started spinning again, his head feeling far too dizzy as if he was able to talk but he managed anyway.
He'd been here for hours now, maybe days or weeks – he couldn't tell anymore. But the two guards framing Robert were still the same and the warder stood a few feet away, watching all of it with curious eyes and a delightful grin dancing across his lips. Sadistic fucker. Malik's body felt broken, crushed, his skin was on fire while his bones felt as cold as freshly fallen snow. He could tell that it was a fever spreading through his body as he desperately tried not to break, trying his best to keep his body from shutting down. Maybe he wouldn't make it out alive. No, probably not. There'd be nobody send for his rescue – there were more important members of the Order, worth of risking other assassins lives but Malik wasn't one of them. He was replaceable, a cripple. He could draw maps still, but he couldn't climb anymore, couldn't fight in missions anymore. He had his limits and an assassin with limits was sooner or later a dead assassin. It seemed for Malik it was sooner.
Robert run a blade across his naked chest. He had cut away his clothes a long time ago and he pressed the cold knife hard against his rips, blood falling from the steel and staining the ground underneath Malik's feet. The first shock had already faded to a dull memory at the back of his head. It had faded as soon as the first wave of pain had hit him merciless. Now there was only pure, raw anger left in Malik. A spark which had become a fire, burning him alive. His will hard as iron to not give Robert the satisfaction to see him falling apart. No. The man had already taken everything which he hold dear. He wouldn't let him have his dignity, not his pride. Those were the two things Malik wanted to keep as it was all he had left now.
Robert's questions had been the same all the time. What were his Master's plans, what his goal? But for Malik it felt like as if those questions were nothing but a farce as if he would already know the answers to them. And of course there was Robert's longing for revenge, for humiliating him at Solomon's Temple. After all, Malik had managed to escape back then, badly wounded and with the Apple in his possession. Robert was a man who wouldn't tolerate such actions, that he made clear when he kept inflicting pain on Malik's body. This was not all about the Apple, about the war between Templars and Assassins. This was personal and Robert made sure to not let Malik forget that fact.
“You will and you know it. It only takes some time for you to break, telling me everything.” Robert sighed and run a hand over his bald head. “You could make it so much easier for yourself. Just tell me what I want to know and your suffering will come to an end. I think it sounds like a fair deal, don't you” He placed his hand next to Malik's head, palm flat against the wall he was chained to, leaning closer still so he could smell cheap wine on the man's breath.
Malik offered him an angry glare and kept silent. For a long moment Robert just kept staring at him, Malik's labored breathing cutting through the silence, followed by the screams of fellow prisoners. Then the Templar withdraw and stood in front of the wounded man. “Very well then”, he said and beckoned to the warder. He stepped next to Malik's side but as he reached for his wrist to loosen the chain, Robert stopped him with a small movement of his hand. He eyed Malik, smiling at him and Malik wanted to wipe it from his face forever.
“The one you've been with at the temple, more than a year ago”, he started slowly and Malik's body went rigid, not liking the sound of his voice. It was too calm. “He was more reasonable than you.”
“He was a coward”, Malik spat as he remembered Altair's face, the way he had looked at him as he stood in front of Al Mualim telling him about his failure before Malik could present the Apple. He immediately bit his lower lip – it wasn't wise to show Robert such emotions and indeed, the Templar lifted one of his eyebrows, looking with mild surprise at the Dai. His lips hold the shape of a small 'o' before he revealed another one of his ugly grins.
“Really? He was?”, he pondered. Robert nodded and tabbed his chin twice as he went back to his memories. “Yes, maybe you could call him that. He screamed like a pig when I killed him.”
Malik felt like as if a fist had hit him in the stomach and he slumped in his bindings.
Kadar.
Robert haven't been referring to Altair, but to Kadar.
The words hit a sore spot. He had tried not to think about it, to keep the memories away from his mind, to not let them consume him. Malik lowered his eyes. There was only so much he could take. Robert could torture him for days, weeks and he would gladly take the pain over the fact that he had failed so miserably at Solomon's Temple. He'd been forced to leave his brother behind and if it weren't for Kadar, fatally wounded and already at the brink of death, urging Malik to just go, he would have stayed with him and would have probably found his own death. Kadar's eyes had haunted him for months and only a few weeks ago his nightmares had stopped in which Kadar blamed him for his death. Malik was certain that if he should survive, the dreams would return – probably worse than ever before.
“Oh, you two have been close, haven't you?”, Robert whispered and the smile died on his face and was replaced by a mask made out of hate. “I heard the rumor that he was your brother”, he added. “Is that true?”
Malik didn't answer. Of course not. Robert held no right to talk about Kadar like that and he would never speak about his brother in front of the man who'd killed him. He owned him that.
The back of Robert's hand met his cheek, hard, and another bruise was forming. He could hardly feel the blows to his face anymore. It was swollen, probably purple and green and the right side of it felt already numb. It didn't hinder his head to flung sideways, the force great enough to make him see stars. “Answer me”, was Robert's demand and his words sounded muffled as if a cloth had been put over his mouth and Malik looked up. Robert's lips were moving again but his voice grew quieter and quieter and even if he would have wanted, he couldn't hear his voice anymore as the world became smaller and the edges of his view grew darker.
Somebody shook him forcefully, slapping him in the face to keep Malik awake and it hardly did the trick. Unconsciousness threatened to overpower Malik and he could barely stand. He would have collapsed a long time ago if it weren't for the chain holding his arm.
“Answer me!”
It was loud enough for Malik to understand now and he smiled emotionless and shallow, revealing bloodied teeth. “Why don't you just kill me?”, he murmured and his words were sluggish, refusing to talk about Kadar, to give an answer to his question. “I won't tell you anything”, he said again, his head rolling aside as if his spine had turned into goo, “let's just get over with this.”
“Oh, your death will come soon enough, assassin. But not today, not until I'm done with you”, Robert hissed, spittle flying from his lips and hitting Malik's face. “You will beg for your death just like your brother did. He cried out for you. He screamed for his brother to return. Tell me, did you hate him that much that you would leave him behind with the enemy?”
Malik didn't say anything, but lowered his eyes, looking down at Robert's chest. Those were lies, nothing but filthy lies! Kadar might not have been as stubborn as Malik, but he hold his pride dear just as the older brother did. He doubted that Kadar was still alive when Robert got to him. When Malik left him... and damn, it hurt so much to think back to that moment when he had looked at his brother for the last time... but when he left him, he was already closer to death than to life. It must be lies. He refused to believe anything else.
Robert pat his cheek and the touch itself burnt Malik. “Get him away... I have a meeting I need to attend to”, he stated casually and pointed one gloved finger at Malik. “Don't think that this is over. It isn't. I promise it's not over until you draw your last breath”, and with those last words, he spit into the Dai's face.
The warder's eyes came into Malik's view as Robert walked away with his guards and he just couldn't find the strength to scream something after him – besides, Malik wouldn't do that anyway. Robert wasn't worth it. He was as much worth as the dirt underneath Malik's boots.
“You won't make trouble, will you?”, the man asked and as he smiled he showed his rotten teeth. When the Dai didn't answer, the warder nodded. “I thought so but... just to make sure...”
He saw his fist coming as if time was slowing down and he could tell he was hit, blood invading his mouth once more but he couldn't feel it and when darkness finally came, Malik sighed softly with relief.