Assassin's Creed Drabbles

↳ dread and destruction

dread and destruction make for a marvelous pair.

THE FEVER BREAKS but you still wake in a cold sweat surrounded by darkness. A dull throbbing in your leg returns. The poisoned arrow leaves its mark on you and the minds of the Cultist. You're no longer immortal to them –your usefulness has run its course.

Out of the darkness, a flickering light appears and grows brighter –larger and reflects off golden armor. Deimos. You're both relieved and terrified to see him. "They're going to kill you," he says and you draw in a deep breath, looking around the prison for a weapon. You couldn't fight him though, not in this state. Deimos throws down a pack and dark cloak next to you and kneels. You lean back, eyes meeting his –waiting for him to draw his blade to do the Cult's bidding. "You have to leave," he tells you.

Your brows knit together. Deimos shoves the hem of your stained chiton up and takes a strip of linen, laying it over the wound on your upper thigh and wrapping it tightly. You can't help the chill that creeps down your spine at the feel of his rough fingers against your heated skin.

You want to ask why he is going to such lengths to help –deep down you already know, but you want to hear it in his own words. Deimos pulls you off the ground and leads you deeper into the cave, past the Cult of Kosmos's meeting chamber. The path grows narrower and then turns upward. Star and moonlight filters through a dense canopy covering the hidden entrance. A horse is waiting –your sword and bow already secured to the saddle. You turn back to Deimos. "What about you?" The cult would not let him act without punishment –demigod or not.

Deimos shakes his head. "No questions-" he motions to the horse "-go."

You and he are kindred souls, bound by misfortune. Trembling, you surge forward, pressing your lips against his. He seizes your waist, drawing you closer. You've always been his source of rapture away from the dread and destruction. Your hand caresses the side of his face, following the scar below his eye –you'd put it there yourself years ago. Stepping back, you mount the pale mare and look back over your shoulder. "I'll find you," you promise. Fate had always led you back to one another.

FREE FROM THE Cult's control, you seek retribution for the years of pain endured under their heel. Freedom makes you see you'd only ever been a puppet in their schemes and Deimos is still their pawn. They'd given you training and praised, called you the daughter of gods, but never once thought what should happen if you went rogue.

Perched in the rafters of a temple –you wait. You'd always been the more patient one. Worshippers rise and flee when he enters. The Cultist kneels, placing a coin at the feet of Plutus in offering. You move in the shadows, then pounce.

Midas slumps against the altar, hand clawing at the open gash on his neck –prayers unheard. Before the gurgling stops, you kick his body over and drive a bronze dagger through his heart. The last thing Midas sees is you smiling with blood on your face. Rising from the slain Cultist, you wipe the blood from the dagger in a stained cloth –not realizing you aren't alone. The point of a blade digs into your back. "Tell me why I shouldn't kill you right now." The voice is familiar. The Eagle Bearer.

"Because I just did your work for you," you remark, glancing down at Midas's lidless eyes.

"Try again," Kassandra sneers.

You sigh, dropping the dagger you'd had pressed into her side. "I left the Cult," you tell her. The Eagle Bearer steps back and you present her with the golden artifact that belonged to Midas. She does not sheath the broken spear though. "And I can help you bring them to their knees." You'd been hunting Cultist and their accomplices like animals. Midas was the thirteenth to fall on your blade.