Disclaimer: I own nothing. Don't own Buffy, don't own AC. Comepletely don't own anyhing, just stuff for amusement.
Summary: Five times Altair sees his future in a gold haired girl.
Crossover: Assassins Creed
Third story in Altair's Reflection Seires.
The first time he saw her, he can barely comprehend it.
He was walking the long trek home, trying to deal with inner turmiol. Two of his friends, dead. And by his hand no less. He had as good as plunge the knife into their chests himself, his arrogance leading him astray. He tried hard to push it away, telling himself that he was in the right. That he had nothing to feel guilty for, and that's when he saw her for the first time. A glint of gold against the desert horizon, drawing his gaze upward and he finds himself staring into a great distance.
And he sees her.
A golden haired girl, with eyes just like his
staring back with disapproval and a hint of sadness.
For a moment, he is stunned the next angry. He opens his mouth to demand who was she to judge him, but when he finds the words...she is gone.
Vanished, like a ghost. For years he would play it off as a trick of the desert heat, but every so often, Altair would catch a glimpse of gold out of the corner of his vision. And he knew in his heart, that she was real.
Altair was not a man who believed. His faith in anything had long since died with Al Muliam's betrayal, instead he finds him going through the days in a hollow, vacant routine that even has Malik worried. He keeps the Piece of Eden, the Apple close by hoping that maybe it will give him answers or purpose. It stays quiet though, giving nothing.
For a fortnight, he sits alone with the stars and moon as his constant companians. Their silence troubling, yet helpful in a strange way. That's when he sees her again.
She appears in the moonlight, looking like a broken warrior covered in blood and bruises. Her chin held high, for while her body is broken, her spirit stays strong. He sat still, studying her with an open frankness before asking, "Why are you here?" He had got glimpse of her before, the time in the desert, out of the corner of his eye and in terrible nightmares.
"I am here to speak for her," her voice was soft, musical. The language and accent unlike anything he had ever heard, but somehow he understands.
"Speak for who?" He demanded. She smiled at him, a knowing smile and a look in his eye as if he should know the answer.
"I speak for you," she answered.
"I can speak for myself," he replied, curtly.
"But you have no speech and she has no name. Not yet," the blond girl meets his eyes, and once again he struck by how similiar their gaze is. "You live in the action of death. The cry for blood, the everlasting wound. You are destruction, absolute, alone."
Altair fells his hands clench into fists. "No. You are wrong. That is not all I am."
"You don't know what you are. What you will be. You have no idea what's to come," the girl fades out of sight and the whispers of the wind caress him, tauntingly. "You haven't even begun."
He catches sight of her as he fights. She moves along side of him, a mirror image of himself fighting invisble foes. Her expression matched his, her need to fight matched his, and Altair begins to appreciate exactly what she is to him. What she means to him. He doesn't tell Maria, he does not want her to worry. But Malik is stubborn and forces the truth from him.
His friend stares at him, long and hard. "You truly believe this?"
"There is no other explanation," Altair stated, firmly.
Malik raised an eyebrow. "I can think of one." Upon the glare he recieved, Malik relented, "Calm yourself, novice. Whatever you are seeing Altair, I don't think its anything to worry about."
Altair remains firmly unconvinced.
It has been many years since he has seen her. He had thought her gone. Then after his son's, wife's and best friend's death, she appears. A haunting ghost of the future.
She came to a halt beside him, offering no words because she has none that can ease the pain inside of him. Her eyes--his eyes--just stare down at him, understandingly and her hand slips on his shoulder. And for the first time in his life, Altair lets himself weep.
The last time he sees her is when he chooses to lock himself away. Chooses death.
She does not appear before him, but instead is just a future whisper inside his head comforting him. "It's okay," she whispered. "It's okay...it will all be alright."
He nodded to himself, as his heartbeat slows and his breaths become few and far between. "Yes...it will be."
And he knows that she tells the truth because he cannot lie to himself. He knows that even though his death is here, it not the end. No, he has a future in that golden haired girl and he only hopes that this time...this time he will do better.
That he will be better.
Altair's eyes slid closed, and hundreds of years later, they reopen as Buffy Anne Summers.
RRs are appreciated.