The Mentor's Daughter

Konstantiniyye

We reached our destination, one of the Assassin dens, and my blade slid silently back into it's place, waiting, like I was, for the next kill. Laughter hit us when Ezio opened the door. I walked in ahead of him and marveled at the color and life this place gave off.

"Good. Yusuf is here. He would like to know about you."

"Yusuf must be the Mentor around here." Ezio shot me a look.

"Sì. You'll like him. Everyone but the Byzantines and Ottomans do. Even some of them I suspect."

"You found her! Küçük şeytan! We've been looking for her!" A bright looking, colorful man came up to us. He had tan robes and teal sashes, the attire of a Master from around here.

"Harim Asker, the Assassin by the market, he found her."

"Ahh, Harim. The boy has potential yet!"

"Yet? Yusuf, when did you ever doubt my skills?" I looked to see Harim behind Ezio and I. Without his cowl and mask, I could see distinguishing features. He was pale like a European, but his eyes and mouth looked Turkish. His hair was a strange black color, almost red. When he smiled it lit his dark eyes.

"Never. You may just be a Master yourself after this. Catching the Gölge is a big thing arkadaşım!" Harim raised an eyebrow. 

"The Mentor's daughter was the Gölge?" he asked. Yusuf laughed, lighting the hallway. He clapped Ezio's shoulder.

"Your daughter? Ezio!" Ezio muttered something about when he was young. Yusuf snorted and kept smiling. "When were you ever young?" Ezio raised an eyebrow like he had heard that one before. Harim bowed to the men.

"I need to rest before my next patrol. We can talk later, no?" Yusuf nodded.

"Sunset. With Dogan, Bahir and Deniz."

"Evet, Yusuf." Harim walked down the corridor that led into the main room.

"Harim? Can you show Capricia around and find a place for her?" Ezio asked.

"Yes, Mentor. Come, Capricia." I followed Harim into the large main hall with a fireplace. He walked through it to the wall beside the fireplace. He touched a stone and the wall split, revealing another room filled with fabric and armor.

"What is this place?" I asked, looking at the different things.

"Through that door is a blacksmith," He pointed to a door on the east wall. "And through that door is a tailor." He pointed to a door on the west wall. Walking over to a pile of fabric, Harim started collecting various items. He handed the pile of metal and fabric to me.

"These shops are run by Assassins. Here is the gear that Masters have, with normal robes, though. Don't want to draw much more attention. Blending is best." I looked down at my white and red robes from Italia.

"What about queste vesti?" he gave me a confused look.

"Why do you do that?" I scrunched my eyebrows together.

"Come?"

"Speak in İtalyan! Who taught you Türk, anyway?" I glared at him.

"Italiano is my real language, canaglia! And my good friend in Italia, Kazan Zincir, he taught me." He looked at me as if I had grown a third eye. "Come?" I asked, irritated.

"Nothing. There is an Assassin, a Master, Adil Zincir. His father went to see if there were any Assassin in İtalya. Never came back. It is nothing. Get the robes on. That white stands out." He left through the maw of the parted wall. I slipped on the robes and strapped the armor with both curiosity and irritation running through my veins. I was also wondering what mio padre was doing. I would find out soon.

*****

Again?! I am on FIRE tonight! Like I said before, vote! That's all I ask of you, i miei fan dedicato. At the end of the story, I'ma put up a 'dictionary'. Basically if you hadn't gone on google translate by then, there will be all of the Turkish and Italian phrases there.

Peace off!

Sarah