This is an Assassin's Creed One-shot. I'm warning you – this story (to you) may defy human logic. Well, some logic anyway. Therefore, I've dubbed this one-shot as a crackfic and AU. There may be some spelling and grammar mistakes, and I apologise for that. It's quite random in some areas, too. And the language is kinda modern, too, sorry! Just bear with me for this story.

It takes place starting from when Altair accepts the mission of the assassination of Garnier de Naplouse in Acre... and it's possibly got some romance in it. I actually don't know how to categorize this story properly. But I'll tell you this, I enjoyed typing this up. There were moments when I'd crack up laughing on the spot, and other times when I'd think 'God, that's corny'.

Anhyoo, enjoy!

The Prestigious Steed

By Fish and Chips

In the year 2012, everything is possible; so here I am strapped to a machine that looks similar to the one Desmond is in, surrounded by mad scientists wanting to extract my memories... but what kind of memories does a poor, failure of a homosapien like me contain? The only ones I have is of my personal life; my family (which consists only of my older brother), my life-long 'achievements' (hint - note the sarcasm: I work part-time as a milk delivery person, the other part of my life is spent as a horse trainer in a dingy stable downtown in which I am the only employee), the person I first dated (some twit who shall not be named for unambiguous reasons to avoid heartache), and the one person I truly tied the knot down – well, that memory stills needs to be filled – but it's getting there!

"Well, Miss Colsworth," a sadistic voice is heard above me, "you sure do have the honour of being the first person to fully experience the work of the new Animus Mark II. It's completely remodelled after our first animus, and works the same, only it has more luxuries to the user to ensure a pleasant trip down memory lane."

It just dawns to me that the surface I'm lying on is soft, and there's this microfiber-material pillow under my head. Plus, I also have a blanket over me. I crane my head to Desmond's animus, and then grimace.

"... I feel so privileged, doctor." I grumble out. "Why is this happening to me?"

"You knew this day would come, Miss Colsworth. Your genes contain crucial ancestral memories dating back to the 12th century after all," Warren Vidic says as he paces around the machine I am currently held hostage inside. "The animus extracts the exact memories from your genes."

"But I certainly don't have anything in my genes that you will find interesting, doctor." I reply back truthfully. "Except from a tongue-rolling gene, no-one in my family can do that except from me – and my mother, but she's passed away, so it's just me who can do it now."

Vidic raises an eyebrow. "...Interesting. Your humour is certainly dry, Miss Colsworth." He continues, letting out a forced chuckle of amusement. "... Your family backgrounds are already very clear to us."

I turn to Desmond, on my far left; he's already unconscious, and Miss Stillman is tip-tapping away at her computer, eyes glued onto the flashing screen. I don't feel safe being stuck with this jerk. Warren Vidic is a really weird man – no, he's not that kind of weird where he'll suddenly open a hi-fi system and start disco dancing to some old century song like 'Let's Groove' – he is the opposite of that. Plain, basic, yet creepy. Those are the worst kinds of men out there. My deceased mother warned me about people like him.

How did I even end up being here?

Well, it happened several days ago; I was on a one-man (or in my case, one-woman) job of delivering milk to a door, and then the person who ordered the milk snatches me inside, knocks me out using a vase or something, and deports me to Abstergo Company where I was first exposed to health checks and fitness tests, then the worst batch of them came – the intelligence quota, which consisted of basic IQ, EQ and arithmetic trials (which I seemingly have failed, because of my low education), and finally, psychometric examinations (those weren't so bad, they were just personality tests).

Abstergo. I don't know much about, other than they probably kidnap people off the streets on a regular basis. The room I'm in - It's a highly classy laboratory, with bleach white walls and glass. The whole organisation structure is very revolutionary, yup, but their people and walls are hiding a dark secret.

After the painful and excruciating, and also rather degrading investigation sessions, I was put in a room opposite Desmond's. We talk when the scientists are gone, just about what we think the scientists want with us – the key to cancer? AIDs? How to end world hunger? I don't know just yet.

Today would probably be my first session in this newly developed machine, which Vidic called the 'Animus Mark II'. It's probably still being developed, and I'm a volunteer, well, not exactly. If I die here, they'd probably wouldn't care – they'll leave my body exactly the way it is and when the police find it, it'll be three months later and my corpse is already half-eaten by stray Dobermans so they'll have no more evidence to find my killers.

I blink, now wondering why I have such a criminally insane mind.

Desmond has already had several sessions in the animus; I've seen him - after he pops out of there, he just goes straight to bed and is out like a dead dog. It must be tiring. The animus revved up and I went completely still; terrified.

"Now uploading memory." A mechanical female voice speaks through my mind – it is through my mind, right? There is a weird whooshing noise, and a rounded-shape glass covers me from the left, enclosing me within the space, like a coffin.

I feel my claustrophobia working up.

"Why are you doing this?" I ask, my voice wobbling.

"This is the only way to find something interesting we may use in our research." Vidic replied, as the machine continued to whir into action. "Don't take this the wrong way, Miss Colsworth, your animus session won't be as long as Mr Miles. Your memories aren't as important as his."

I frown somewhat. "Well, anyway, couldn't you just hypnotise me or something?"

He laughs again. "Yet again, another talentless joke from the young Carly."

"What have you got against me?" I demand furiously. I've been the butt of his jokes for a long time, now.

"I've nothing against you, Miss Colsworth, I'm just doing my work."

"But... But... I don't know anything about my ancestors anyway... you won't get anything out of me."

"You keep missing the point, Miss Colsworth. Your genes. I'm sure the animus will have the answers to that, Miss Colsworth. Now close your eyes, and try to sleep."

"Sleep? Sleep? Are you mad? I – I..." I begin to feel a bit out of place and stop flailing around. "...W-What's happening? Why is... why is everything... around me getting so... woozy?" I mutter out groggily, as I feel myself slipping down... and down... further down, yes... down, down, and gently down.

"Rest, Miss Colsworth," I can hear Vidic's voice now; but it's fading away. "The animus will do everything for you."

Whoa, I feel strange. Like something... pulling me into a void. Help! I try to reach out, but suddenly, everything around me turns hazy blue, with white lights flickering around the background, like some kind of dream state. Whoa, strange. I can hear the animus' voice again.

"Memory loading... memory loading... error... error..."

"Huh? Where am I? Doctor? Desmond? Lucy?" I call out. My voice echoes around. I'm alone. I looked around, desperate for someone. "Anyone? Hello? What is this place?"

And suddenly, everything went... white.

My feet touch the ground, and I crumple to the floor.

"Wow, that was weird." I muttered, getting back up and looking around my surroundings. My eyes adjust to the bright sunlight outside. Reminds me of Hawaii or something. I'm in some kind of barn; a stack of hay in front of me. Hmm, I'm just staring at it - why do I have the strange urge to feed on this hay?

Ignoring the further strange sensation coursing through my veins, I turn around, spying a couple of horses several feet from me. The sky is bright, and the temperature is scorching; the men carrying swords are standing as still as ever yet their heads turn around to every corner, as if they are suspicious of something. Hmm, nothing weird here.

I'm just in some kind of barn.

Wait.

Men carrying swords?

"Hey, how ye doin', Carlyle? Didn't hear or see from ye much after that trip to Damascus."

I blink at the white, spotted horse that was in front of me, and I do a double take. Did... Did that horse just... speak to me?

"Yeah, I am looking at ye, Carlyle. Are ye alright? Still feeling a bit floozy?" The horse's mouth actually moved. My jaw drops

"ARGH!" I scream immediately, backing away. "Demon horse!" In progress, I accidentally bump into another horse behind me.

"Watch it, I'm tryin' to eat here," the black horse on my left barks at me.

"YAARGHH!" I screech alarmingly again, running around in circles. What's going on? This doesn't feel right... why are horses talking? I look up and around; I feel... larger... well, physically – have I put on pounds? Why do I feel... eh... so weird... Eeek! What's this swishy thing attached above my butt? Why am I galloping around? Where are my hands? Where are my clothes? What... Where... Why... Heh?

The white horse nudges at my side with his muzzle, and I stop. "Whoa, whoa, what's wrong with ye, Carlyle? Ye still on that medication those two-legged freaks gave to ye?"

"Stop!" I scream, holding my 'hands' up. "I am not a horse! I'm a human!"

"Boy, did those freaks overdose ye. Come and have some hay, before that other two-legged freak comes back again." The white horse clip-clops over to the hay bundle and moves in between the other horses, feeding on the straw.

Aiee, this isn't happening! I spy a water trough, and instantly run over to it. I stare at my reflection, and almost have a serious case of cardiac arrest. My perfect human face was gone! And instead, it was replaced with a long snout, two beady eyes on the side of its head... a tousled mane, ears at the top of its head...

Holy cow!

I'm a...

I'm...

"I'M A HORSE!"

"Hmm, there appears to be slight disturbance in Carly's animus." Vidic tampered around, looking at the unconscious, twitching girl locked inside the machine; she looked as if she was stuck in a bad dream. "... She's in the wrong memory."

Lucy sighed, looking up from her computer; then she checked the status on Desmond's memory. "Well, you were the one who decided to install two animus', and Desmond's one is already a bit unstable with the overheating and everything."

"You're the one who built this thing, can't you do anything?"

"Just project her out, then."

Vidic pressed the 'eject' button, and waited. Nothing happened. Carly was still twitching in the same horrible manner. "This thing's broken!" He exclaimed, turning to Lucy.

"Now what?" Lucy asked, finally tearing her eyes from the unconscious Desmond, and walking over to Carly's animus. She blinked at the screen, after pressing a few input commands. "... There's your problem. The animus has picked up the wrong genes."

"What? I purposely ordered Miss Colsworth's clothing and personal belongings to be replaced with Abstergo clothing in order to PREVENT this from happening." He barked, peering into the glass; he could see that Carly had a handkerchief she brought from home poking out from her left pocket. "Ah, there's the culprit. Right, Miss Colsworth will have a lecture from me after this session. Lucy, fix this at once!"

"I'm trying, I'm trying." Lucy pushed her fingertips over a few buttons, and she viewed the memory Carly was currently in. "Oh... She's currently re-living the memory of a... horse."

Vidic stopped pacing around. "A what?"

"A horse. The handkerchief... it must have some horse hair – she did say she was a horse trainer. The animus must've picked up the genes from the horse hair."

Vidic slapped a hand over his forehead. "Try and end this memory. Before anymore chaos ensue."

"What's strange is that the horse hair contains genes from a horse corresponding to the time period of Desmond's ancestors."

"What?"

"This hair contains the genes belonging to a horse that was around roughly the same time when Desmond's ancestor rode out to Acre to assassinate Garnier de Naplouse."

"Just get her out of the memory. She's caused us enough problems already."

"The animus isn't letting me."

"Switch it off at the main power."

"But that would switch off the computers and Desmond's animus, too."

"Damn you, Abstergo Intranetwork services!" Vidic sighed in frustration.

"We'll have to wait until the memory ends."

"Fine! Fine! Just let the damn girl re-live through a horse then!"

So here I am on the brink of an emotional breakdown. I'm pretty sure my ancestors were absolutely NOT horses. Yet here I am, a black horse with white spots, in some unknown place, with hooves and an instinct to eat raw straw and gallop around. And they're calling me Carlyle.

"Being a horse ain't that bad, Carlyle." The white horse says as he trots around, finally stopping beside me as I sit on my large horse rear, hooves trying to reach my face; the guards have already found me strange as it is. I just stare at my reflection, feeling like I wanted to yell out loud in anger.

The white horse, called Palami, continues his speech on '10 good things about being a horse'. "Except from having to carry those two legged freaks around, things are quite peaceful here."

"You missed out a shorter life span, a lack of certain will, and no thumbs." I moan back at him.

"What are thumbs?"

I sigh. "Never mind. I just want to get out of here."

"Oh no, no, no, that would not be wise, Carlyle. If the two legged freaks saw you around for no reason, they'll kill you. This is our home, and we shall stay here."

"They're not two-legged freaks, they're humans and they have a name, each and every single one of them, like us. What year is this anyway? I'm pretty sure people aren't allowed to carry swords anymore."

"Why, tis' the year the humans go to war with one another over the Holy Land, using us as steeds on the way! The one being able to carry Salahadin, what a privilege! But no, we dowdy horses in Masyef, we be ridden by guards and peasants."

"Hmm, so it's the year of the Crusades..." I murmur. That means I might see Desmond's Ancestor, then. I wonder what he's like. And anyway, how can it be such a coincidence? Well, horses are horses... they had to come from somewhere.

Suddenly, speaking of the devil, a human approaches us; a man in white, and he watches us for a brief moment, and the rest of the horses ignore him and continue chowing on their feast of dry roots. The man walks over to a brown horse and hoists a leg up, trying to mount the horse. I stare, as the other horses continued to live life as it went on. The brown horse does not seem to mind, either.

The man reared the horse, and in the sun, I spot the glint of a hidden blade up his sleeve, then at the face of who the blade belonged to.

Desmond?

"Desmond!" I yell, and I got up from my space (with much difficulty, I might add. Damn, my huge horse's ass), galloping over, knocking over the horse - in progress, I also end up bumping into Desmond, or so who I think is Desmond, who almost fell off the horse, but managed to keep it in line by tugging at the reins.

"Whoa, boy." He commanded it smoothly. Oooh. Even his voice is different.

"Oi! Watch it, mate!" The brown horse turns his attention to me, "I'm carrying a freak here, if you haven't noticed! Them freaks don't like it when other freaks with horses bump into one another."

"Sorry!" I apologise, but I try to catch Desmond's seemingly undivided attention. Before long, he turns to me, watching silently as I pace around restlessly. He doesn't seem to be having any of it, so I gallop around them in a circle, kicking my legs around, gathering up dust. "Desmond! Desmond! It's me! Back from the lab - Carly! Carleee!"

He looks clueless.

Hmm, this must be Desmond's ancestor.

"Lad, you better get your horse in order." One of the guards yells over at Desmond's ancestor, who turns round to face the two. Ignoring the guard, yet taking his advice, Desmond tries to get past me, but I don't let him. He gives me a cautious look, then leaps off the brown horse and walks towards me.

I lift up a hoof and try to touch him. Desmond's ancestor just watches in confusion, and bewilderment, I might add (as a horse tries to communicate with him), while the guards are whispering to one another.

"What is that horse doing?"

"Has it gone insane?"

"Desmond's ancestor, thank god you're here! Take me out of this place! Please!" I beg him, staring at him eye-to-eye. Well, he looks like Desmond. It must be his ancestor. I end up smacking my elongated nose into him instead by accident.

"It seems that horse likes you a lot, boy." The other guard chuckles, rather mockingly, actually.

I suppose all Desmond's ancestor can see is a mad horse neighing continuously in his face. He takes my reins anyway – I take note that his left hand is missing the ring finger as it curls around the rope - and Desmond's ancestor mounts, before steering me on the path. Whoa, a human is riding on me. This is a strange experience – and it feels (and sounds) wrong – but what can I do? Meh. This is definitely a first.

Okay, Carly, focus. Front right leg first. Then left, rear right leg comes after, then the rear left. Huh, this is pretty easy... I think. Desmond's ancestor is currently wondering why I am going so slowly. After a few seconds, I stomp around a bit, finally getting over the feeling of four legs.

"Hey, this is pretty cool! Look at me! Yeah-huh, I'm a horse. With four legs and a snout! And horse vision!" I parade around in front of Palami for a second, but Desmond's ancestor keeps me straight to the path.

"Goodbye, Carlyle." Palami says, watching me leaving... well, whatever place I was in.

"Goodbyeee, my horsie friends! I shal - Oww!" I yell as Desmond's ancestor uses his heels to kick my sides. "Ouch! Do you mind?"

"Come on, boy." He says, patting my head, trying to avoid eye-contact with the guards, who were still giving us strange looks.

"EH, I'm a FEMALE. Get your facts straight!" I bark at him. It only comes as a disheartened neigh to his fragile human ears as I stomp my hooves around in the dirt.

"What is wrong?"

I shake my head as an answer. Desmond's ancestor just stares. I believe I've creeped him out enough as it is.

"Heeyah!" Desmond's ancestor then cries, and he kicks my sides again. I don't move. A few seconds pass. "Come on!"

"Ow! Why the hell do you keep doing that?" is my only response.

"Yer supposed to start galloping, you twonk." The brown horse tells me. "Them freaks do that when they want us to gallop faster."

I blink at him, then it finally registers in my mind. Oh, wait, I'm a horse. Yeah, I'm meant to be super speedy. Just don't kick me again! I rear up, and dash down the path – as Desmond's ancestor has requested. The wind in my hair, hooves picking up dust... no speed limit. Haaah, this feels great.

"Whoohooo! Check me out! Yeaaah!"

Memory fast-forwarding to a more recent one

Okay, where to, Desmond? Right? Left?

He steers me down the right path, where we avoid several pedestrians on the way, and soon, we enter through this large spacious stone gateway, and finally, we arrive in the rather desolate and spooky Kingdom. I let out a whinny – hmm, so that's what I sound like to Desmond's ancestor.

"Slow down, boy."

I sigh, and reduce my fast pace to a slow trot. Desmond's ancestor has brought me in some kind of open road where there are tons of guards, whose suspicious eyes all land on Desmond's ancestor, who is blending in.

"So what's all this about, eh, Desmond's ancestor? You being an assassin and all? Wow, you must know all sorts of killing tactics then. Do you even like your job?"

All he can hear is constant neighing.

"Shhh." Desmond's ancestor brushes a hand over my head.

Some guards watch us from the side. I'm getting a little scared. As we continue down the path, Desmond's ancestor stops, and gets off. I try to follow him, but he stops me. He goes off down to the nearest tall building, and walks calmly past the guards who tell him to buzz off; but he ignores them and ventures further to the back, unseen by the guards.

The next other suicidal thing he does, is take a running leap up the wall, and then he starts to scale the tower. My horse-jaw drops. What is he doing? I rush over, trying to look up to find him. All I do is create more suspicion from the guards who wonder if I'm an insane horse.

Suddenly, a flying shadow darts past me and I follow the figure in white who has just leapt off the wooden perch some good feet above me.

"Ancestor!" I scream, and the figure lands directly into a pile of hay on my right. "Oh my god!"

I gallop around in circles around the hay, panicking, and finally, Desmond's ancestor pops back out, completely unharmed. I sigh a breath of relief as he mounts the saddle again. He steers me back onto the path and we are off once again.

"Are you out of your mind, Desmond's ancestor? Another stunt like that will get you off to the land where my deceased mother is! Wouldn't want that now, would we? And here I thought I was mad! Why did you do that? Aren't you afraid of getting yourself killed? You could've broken every bone in your body! Just because you're an assassin doesn't mean you're invincible, you crazy asshole!"

An impatient tug to the reins makes me shut up; my whinnying and high-pitched neighing of disapproval has made more guards look towards our direction.

Eventually, we reach a small village and Desmond's ancestor gets off, and then begins to lead me through by the reins, making sure I don't bump into anyone. However, people are beginning to notice how strange Desmond's ancestor looks compared to others. Well, he is the only one wearing white, and a hood, not to mention that he's alone. He walks in this really suspicious way and he's the only one with a horse. And let's not forget the tell-tale sword swinging around at his side.

"I can't keep calling you 'Desmond's ancestor' all the time." I say, as we go down the hill. "What's your name?"

He ignores me, but glances at my direction.

Damn it, human, learn how to speak and understand horse language!

"Well," I say anyway, "my name is Carly. It's nice to meet you. Surprisingly, Desmond doesn't talk much about you; you must be one of his least favourite family member, eh? Ehehe," I guffaw at him, "considering you all from this time period to be assassins and such. Heck, he probably doesn't even know who you were."

Suddenly, Desmond's ancestor clamps a mouth over my muzzle but keeps us walking forward. A few guards have their swords drawn out. Once he releases me, I tut at him.

"That's not really good, is it? We're not even in the next town and you've already exposed yourself."

"Be quiet." He hisses at me.

I keep my mouth shut this time. I keep it shut for a long time, until Desmond's ancestor finds another huge tower to scale. This time, the guards see him, unfortunately.

"Oi, you!" A guard yells at him. "What do you think you are doing? Get down this instant!"

"Don't make us hurt you!" Another guard yells.

He ignores them and continues climbing, but they throw stones at him. Desmond's ancestor loses his grip, and he tumbles down. I try to calculate where he'll land, and arrive under his shadow expectantly. He lands on my head, almost causing me brain damage, and when I acknowledge that he has his grip on me, I take off galloping into the distance. The guards pursuing us are sent sailing several feet in the air as I kick them to stop their chase.

I rush around, trying to find a place for him to hide as the guards start shooting arrows at us. We barely dodge as one almost rips off my ear. My horse heart beats more than one hundred times a minute, I swear, as adrenaline rushes through my entire body and my hooves pick up speed. I quickly spot a stack of hay some distance from us and I race off towards there, Desmond's ancestor still half-hanging off me. He doesn't know where I've headed, but when I skid to a stop in front of the hay, he knows what to do and has concealed himself within it while I gallop off to a corner and act natural.

I reach down and peck at some grass. Okay, maybe I shouldn't act THAT natural.

The ten-something guards who had been giving chase run past his hiding spot, looking around, trying to find the man in white. They move away a few minutes later, redeeming that they've lost sight of him. I trot back over to the bundle of hay once they have all vanished from my sight and rake through with my snout, I clamp my teeth over his hood and lift him out.

He watches me as I put him back onto his own two feet and dust him off. "You are not an ordinary horse, are you?"

"Of course I'm not!" I reply back proudly. "I'm one of a kind, yeah yeah. You lucky this time, Desmond's ancestor. If those guards caught you – Shnizazz! You dead!"

Hell, I'm wondering why I'm even talking like this now.

"Let's go." He pats my head again and we set off once more.

Memory fast-forwarding to a more recent one

We finally reach our destination; a city called Acre. He gets off to the side near the entrance gates and looks at the gates, which is heavily guarded by scary-looking men with more swords. The day has still not gone. By this time I'm sweating buckets and wanting a small drop of water to quench my thirst, but Desmond's ancestor is the holder of the portable water flagon. People find it strange how a horse has lied down on its side in the road and is staring at a man with a flask. I watch him as he drinks the water in front of me.

A part of me hungers to have a sip of the water.

The other part of me watches how deliciously attractive he looks while drinking the water.

Whoa! Hey, hey, this is something I will definitely NOT delve any further! I slap myself mentally. Carly, get a grip. You're a horse for god's sake! Horses don't fall in love with humans! Besides, it's Desmond's ancestor. He's not even alive! This is just a memory. A ghost of him. A shell. A replay. Something like that. He's not actually real, you know. Sort of like a hologram. Carly, you idiot, you stupid plonker!

Desmond's ancestor screws the lid back on, and I jerk up from the ground back onto my own feet, panting, somewhat copying the actions of a dehydrated dog. He raises an eyebrow at me, then at the flask, and unscrews the lid again. I grin; yes, he's got the message.

He lifts the flask opening to my mouth and allows the water to tip into my mouth. Aaah, bliss.

Desmond's ancestor removes the flask and replaces the lid. He strokes my hair; I freeze for a moment, then close my eyes and revel in the moment. Aaaahh, more bliss. Before long, his hand has vanished and I'm left standing by myself. He is making his way up to the gates.

"Hey... Hey!"

I follow him, but he turns round, "No, you cannot come with me."

"You're not really leaving me here by myself, are you?"

"Stay." He commands. "Stay, boy."

"For the last time, I'M NOT A BOY!"

He tries to calm me down. "Stop that." He says, as he brings my face forward eye-level to his. "Stop."

I stop, as he requested. He watches me for a brief moment, as if I'd move again. When I didn't, he let go of the sides of my face and then starts to tie my reins to the fence. I try to jerk away but it's no use. The fence rattles fiercely at my protest to escape, but I still can't get loose.

"I'll be back."

I blink for a moment, then stop kicking around in the ground and watch him quietly. "... Okay. I'll wait for you."

And then he turned back round, continuing up.

Memory fast-forwarding to a more recent one

I was awakened from my sleep by someone heaving at my reins. It was the ancestor; he'd returned! Happy for a brief moment, I got up from my spot, stretched my legs for a little and I let him mount; we set off back up the familiar path.

"So, had a long day, eh?" I begin, as the silence between us becomes unsettling as we go back up the hill. "What'd you do in Acre then? What's it like anyway? What are the people like anyway?"

Desmond's ancestor doesn't answer. I sigh again in slight exasperation. We take a few more turns to the right, and the left, we're taking a different path this time.

"I... I wish you could understand me. I've so much to ask you about. And I want to know so much about you... But the differences and limitations..."

More silence.

"Bah, why am I saying all this stupid stuff for? Yes, yes, it's always been like that for me. I'm a stupid person. A typical high school drop-out... getting a job as a milk delivery person... the van's nice though... but what kind of job is that? What kind of life is that? I mean, you're an assassin. Sure, you probably don't get paid... but your intentions were for a better tomorrow. It's good when a job can help the rest of the world."

Suddenly, Desmond's ancestor kicks at my sides, and I perk up. "Hey, what now?"

He's caught sight of a Templar, who has completely blown our cover by yelling of our presence, and now, some nearby guards are also becoming hostile, shouting out for the world to hear "Assassin!" and "Don't let the heathen escape!". We rush away from them as quick as we can, but a few guards several feet in front of us are in an attacking stance, and in order to avoid them, I've lost my footing and stumbled to the ground. Desmond's ancestor goes off my back and lands on the ground a distance from me, crash-tumbling and rolling back upright.

"Are you okay?" I yell at him, as I get up. He seems okay; maybe a few bruises, that's all.

But the guards have arrived, and they all surround him. Oh no! I watch from the sidelines as he engage in a fight, fifteen against one, and he draws out his sword in a defensive stance. How unfair!

"Be careful, ancestor!"

He counterattacks a few of the guards, and I look away from this bloodbath, but force myself to see the current situation; there is only seven guards left standing. The Templar was disposed of just then. Desmond's ancestor watches every single one of them carefully, and one goes carelessly forward bellowing out a battle cry, charging towards the ancestor with his sword swinging above his head in his hand, in a fashion comparable like a helicopter's propellers. The ancestor makes short work of him; but my eyes scan something diabolical -

Two guards have decided to take on the ancestor at once from behind! What a dirty, cheap tactic! Well, that won't happen, not when I'm here! I gallop forward to the group, facing the soldiers about to attack the ancestor from behind, my head brazen and thoughtless of the consequences at the same time.

I lunge through the group, colliding with the guards successfully. Desmond's ancestor dives to the side to avoid my relentless attack, and uses this chance to take out the next few guards beside him. I breathe a sigh of relief, but something has plunged inside me, and I crash to the ground, feeling nothing but agony and pain.

He quickly disposes the remaining guards once he realises that a guard has struck me, and runs to my side, kneeling down beside me; he inspects the sword that is sticking out of my stomach and sheaths his own sword back inside.

"This might hurt." He latches his hands around the handle of the sword inside me.

I smile at him dryly. "You shouldn't worry about me by the way. Other guards will come... and find the bodies. You ought to go, go back to your master. Don't worry about me."

He ignores my protest, and pulls out the sword slowly. I yell in distress and thrash around for a second, but the pain subsides, and I lie back down, breathing heavily.

"I must be really mad, rushing in like that to save you when you don't even have to be saved." I say, sighing slightly as I rest my head on the dirty ground. Yes, this is the end of my journey. "Damn it, can't believe I really do feel something for nothing but a memory. I'm such an idiot. If only I was born in the 12th century... we probably had a chance... probably, okay? But... who knows? Hell, you could find me really annoying and I'll just find you really scary and intimidating. And then you'll shove a blade into my windpipe. But fate is funny. I'm a horse in this memory, and you're a human."

He places a cold hand over my head, smoothing down my hair. "It will all end soon."

"Yeah..." I mutter out hazily as my surroundings go blurry. "It will... it doesn't hurt that much. I don't want to leave you, though. You'll blow your cover as you usually do... get chased around... and I'll be worried. But no, you can take care of yourself in the end, can't ya, assassin?"

He stays with me until it is time for my leave, and for that, I am grateful.

"See ya, assassin... in the next life..."

Exiting memory...

Urgh... that was weird. Really.

I wake up, finding myself back in the laboratory, still strapped to the animus. My head hurts, and so does my side – where the sword that struck me and presumably ended my horse life should be. Oww, what a realistic experience...

"Carly, are you alright?" Lucy asks, as she stops the animus. I'm free to move my arms around for a while and sit up once the glass removes.

"Yeah..." I mutter. "But I think your animus might be broken... I just experienced the 12th century through the eyes of a horse."

"Yes, about that, the Animus Mark II is still a newly developed project, so it may pick up the wrong genes... We couldn't eject you out until the memory ended. We're so sorry about that, I – "

"We're sorry?" Vidic interrupts, exclaiming furiously from Lucy's side. He promptly marches over to me and his hand darts out like a striking snake.

"Hey! What're you – " I cry in alarm, but stop after he picks out my lucky hanky. "Oh, heeheehee, sorry..."

He waves it dauntingly around in my face, but keeps it in his grip. "There, this was your entire fault. Abstergo owes you no compensation at all. And I'm confiscating this off you for the time being. Expect it back after your session."

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. As if you guys would offer compensation, anyway." I utter, turning back to Lucy. "Can I go back to my room now?"

"I'm sorry, Carly, but we still need to run your session."

"Aww." I whine in frustration, and then I turn to Desmond in his animus, "Is he okay?"

"He's doing fine, Carly. There's no need to worry about him."

"Okay." I lie back down on the soft surface, watching the glass go over me once more, the restraints strapping over my wrists again.

Now entering dream state... yadda yadda yadda...yawn... am I in the memory yet?

Memory Loading...

My surroundings are bright like the memory before, and I'm out in the open air, behind some wooden stall similar to those merchant ones, with people walking past me; two familiar guards standing at either side of the entrance to the village. I look down; I've got hands this time. Good, I'm human. I walk over to the bucket of water on the floor and stare at my reflection; I have light tanned skin and long, dark tousled locks.

But where am I? What am I doing? I get up from kneeling and look down at my hand; I'm holding a bristly brush encrusted in thick suds, and there's a (yet again) memorable white horse lying down on the hay at my right. It perks up at me, wondering why I've suddenly stopped giving it a bath.

Oh, I see. So I'm some kind of horse tamer.

I'm back in Masyef.

Suddenly, a voice behind me makes me burst out of my thoughts; I leap somewhat in fright, and turn around...

... To face a man in white; he's wearing a hood and he has a sword attached to his belt. I can only see his lower face, but there's something uniquely vague about him... "Your horse got hurt during the journey." He states plainly, handing me the reins of the black horse with white spots that was limping weakly beside him up the hill. "I apologise."

"Oh..." I squeak out, finally being able to tear my eyes from him and onto the poor horse, accepting the reins. "Um... It's... no problem."

He shows me the wound – which he has neatly bandaged with a few rags; it's on the horse's right side, and I can see he has also managed to stop the infection and the bleeding with herbs and extracts. I blink at him.

"That's... I mean... Thank you. You saved its life." I mutter, realising that my voice has suddenly gone a bit quieter than usual and that my heart has quickened its pace. What's happening to me...?

"I was merely returning the favour." He replies, voice low.

"... Huh...?" I let the injured horse enter the stables and it lies down, settling back at home.

He turns away from me, stalking back up the hill to the village quietly.

"W-Wait!" I cry out to him, holding my hand out – the one that was holding the brush – to him.

When he turns round, I quickly place the brush down on the stand, and smooth my hair and clothes, getting bubbles all over myself by accident. "... U-Um... er... what is... your name...?"

Damn it, Carly, this is why you can't get a proper boyfriend! You don't ask random strangers who bring back a half-dead horse their name!

He looks up; and I see a familiar face look back at me. I gasp inwardly, and swallow. It's him. We gaze at each other for a few seconds, but to me, it feels like an eternity. He moves his head to the side slightly; and the look on his face is one as if he recognizes me but just can't pinpoint when and where. His mouth eventually moves.

"Altair."

He gives me a second glance (giving me the feeling that he was wondering why he told me his name), then leaves.

I watch his retreating back.

Altair...

Altair...

The Flying Eagle and Son of None.

"I'll see you... Altair." I smile, and sigh a breath of relief, "Carlyle, I'll be with you soon, just rest up for the moment," and then I turn back to the white horse that still needed a bath. "Okay, Palami. Let's get you all cleaned up... "

The End?

Moral of story: Some relationships between two people, are so strong that they can transcend time, physical form and being, and almost anything else. Sort of.

Okay, this story ends in a cliffie. The source of inspiration for this story came when I wondered about a bit of the story of Assassin's Creed through the horse's eyes (who is in fact, a character), and I also wondered who took charge in looking after the horses (the answer to that could be the guards, but I thought I'd create a character for that to make it fun) though I did try to limit the 'romance' in this story, I kinda think... there's something going on, yeah! (lol)

The only problem I thought about this was the reason why Abstergo would kidnap Carly, as you can see, she doesn't hold much information. I pondered if I should try and write another story where Altair and Carly's relationship deepened, and that is why Abstergo kidnapped her into her company, because she might hold some relevance to them.

I hope you enjoyed it :D