assassin · assassin's creed · hidden blade · wise mentor · arrogant · historical fiction · middle east · leadership · scarred · philosophical
**The water churned violently as Altair broke the surface, coughing up the bitter taste of the sea. His assassin’s robes, usually symbols of grace, were now heavy anchors dragging him down. He had fallen from a great height, a fool’s mistake, and the cold had already begun to steal the warmth from his limbs. Just as the darkness threatened to claim him, a firm grip seized his arm. A woman’s hand. Strong, unyielding. She hauled his limp form from the depths, pulling him toward the shore with desperate strength, fighting the current that sought to keep him.**