Assassin's Creed Drabbles

↳ together

you and deimos had always been stronger together. 

BLOOD TRICKLES DOWN your temple and you can vaguely make out the metallic taste lingering on your tongue. Gravel digs into your cheek and exposed flesh. The hilt of your dagger is out of reach. Seleukos looms over you, laughing as you writhe. He places the sole of his armored sandal on the center of your back –pressing you further into the dirt. "Maybe you don't have the blood of heroes," the brute sneers, spitting blood-tinged saliva next to your head.

Men and women wearing painted masks gather to watch the spectacle. Seleukos removes his foot and staggers back. "Stay down, girl," he hisses, but you've never been one for following orders. You lunge for the dagger and roll to the side, plunging the blade through his left foot. The brute yelps like a wounded hound –dropping his sword.

Rising from the dirt, you wipe the blood from your lips on the back of your hand and stand ready to fight once more. His fist connects with your stomach the same time you bring the knife down in a smooth slash, tearing open the skin on his chest. Seleukos sinks to his knees, clutching at the long gash. They will always underestimate you. Chrysis's voice echoes in your mind. "Stay down, boy," you mock –watching as true fear spreads across his mangled face. You grab a handful of his hair, exposing his neck to the cold bite of your blade.

Whispers spread among those gathered as Seleukos's body twitches before growing still, but when he enters, the room grows silent. Deimos glances between the Cultists and you –standing over a fresh corpse of a fighter meant to entertain Belos. "Leave!" The command is directed at everyone except you.

"Deimos," you greet with a bloody smile. He reaches out, touches the drying blood on your cheek –not accustomed to seeing your blood. He raises a brow in silent questioning. You turn into his hand, sparing a quick look at the corpse next to you and the puddle of red blooming beneath your feet. "He called me a whore," you spit.

Deimos rolls his eyes but focuses on the reason he'd come to see you. "We have assignments on Kythira," he announces. "We leave tonight." 

THE CULT OF Kosmos allies itself with pirates and mercenaries when transporting their weapons. The ship of Thaulos the Bloodthirsty is waiting in a cove east of Kirrha. Soon after boarding, the sight of land on the horizon is gone and all that remains is dark water. You keep to the large tent at the stern of the ship, teeth-gnashing together with each wave that rocks the ship. Deimos crouches next to you. "I hate sailing," you growl. He scoffs but doesn't leave.

As the ship comes to dock in a port that is not in Kythira, you sense something is not right. Thaulos will not uphold his end of the bargain. Unsheathing twin daggers you twist, plunging one of them deep into the neck of one of the deckhands -the bow he'd tried to string falls. Deimos is quick to draw his sword, cutting down those who advance.

A sharp cry is torn from your throat when an arrow sinks into your outer thigh. Deimos turns after eviscerating a pirate and sees you down on one knee, fighting to stand. He roars. Breaking off the shaft, you rise and race toward the archer –pushing through the pain. The flat of an oar collides with your temple, sending you back into darkness. Deimos smites down those standing in his path.

When you wake, it is to a throbbing pain in your leg and head. You try sitting up, but a firm hand pushes you to lay back down. "Don't," Deimos says, sitting next to you. If one of you falls, the other must keep moving forward. We cannot lose you both. Chrysis had spoken those words before every mission when you were younger. Ignoring him, you sit up and inspect your wounded thigh. A pack of herbs and flowers is secured against the entry and exit points of the arrow. In the corner of the room is a cowering physician, bound and gagged. You frown.