Malik flinched ever so slightly when the hand fell on his shoulder. He'd noticed her approach but hadn't been expecting a touch.

Masyaf was a medieval fortress, one of the finest he'd ever seen. It was home his entire life, and it had never been empty since it's building long before then.

"They would not have left their blades in the dirt. There is nowhere more defensible than Masyaf." He said, pushing himself up. His hand stayed clutched around the sword, and his dark eyes traveled briefly over her face. "It was built to stand for centuries as our heart."