allsoundsasscreed:

The Creed of the Assassin Brotherhood teaches us that nothing is forbidden to us. Once I thought that meant we were free to do as we would. To pursue our ideals, no matter the cost.

I understand now. Not a grant of permission. The Creed is a warning.

Ideals too easily give away to dogma. Dogma becomes fanaticism.

No higher power sits in judgment of us. No supreme being watches to punish us for our sins.

In the end, only we ourselves can guard against our obsessions. Only we can decide whether the road we walk carries too high a toll. 

We believe ourselves redeemers, avengers, saviors. We make war on those who oppose us, and they in turn make war on us. We dream of leaving our stamp upon the world…

…even as we give our lives in a conflict that will be recorded in no history book.

All that we do, all that we are, begins and ends with ourselves.

Jubair: Why? Why have you done this?

Altaïr: Men must be free to do what they believe. It is not our right to punish one for thinking what they do, no matter how much we disagree.

Jubair: Then what?

Altaïr: You of all people should know the answer. Educate them. Teach them right from wrong. It must be knowledge that frees them, not force.

Jubair: They do not learn, fixed in their ways as they are. You are naive to think otherwise. It’s an illness, for which there is but one cure.

Altaïr: You’re wrong. And that’s why you must be put to rest.

Jubair: Am I not unlike those precious books you seek to save? A source of knowledge with which you disagree? Yet you’re rather quick to steal my life.

Altaïr: A small sacrifice to save many. It is necessary.

Jubair: Is it not ancient scrolls that inspire the Crusaders? That fill Salāḥ ad-Dīn and his men with a sense of righteous fury? Their texts endanger others, bring death in their wake. I too, was making a small sacrifice. It matters little now. Your deed is done, and so am I.

allsoundsasscreed:

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Evie: Jacob.

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Abberline: Miss Frye, what the hell happened here?

Evie: Nothing, Inspector. Nothing happened here. Trust me, Jack the Ripper is dead.

Officer: Inspector!

Evie: Now help me, Frederick. No one must ever know that Jack the Ripper was an Assassin.

Officer: Inspector! The journalists are here.

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Abberline: I want those vultures gone this instant, is that clear.

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Evie: It’s over, Jacob. I’m here.

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