"It was," he said, "many years ago. It left its ruins far and wide. Roads. Aqueducts. Crumbling fortresses and statues. Now, the land is called Italia with the city of Rome at the center. They are famous merchants and traders. I welcomed some into Masyaf not long ago. Niccolo and Maffeo." And now, he had to hope that they, and Darim, would be successful in their efforts.

Just thinking of Darim put an ache in his heart, his eyes closing for the few moments it took for it to pass. He would never see him again, his beloved son. But he had known that when he'd closed the door. Now, with his youth once more in his grasp, it felt unfair. But a breath and he brought himself back to the conversation at hand rather than wishes that would remain nothing more than wishes.

"I was right to believe you a thinking man, I see. I had hoped as such."