A/N: I wrote this while trapped under two feet of snow in New Jersey. I was all kinds of excited because I'd had this idea for over a year and finally wrote it down for publication. Win. Steph's Puppet also has a beautiful alternate ending story called A Different Ending. You should go read it; its quite emotional.
Please leave a review if you like this story. ORMAZD FOR LIFE!
If you would have your wish, then give me mine.
Ahriman's words filled his ears. It was the same message he'd heard ever since his godforsaken donkey had disappeared. It didn't matter that he had been imprisoned beneath a tree for a thousand years. The god still held sway over this place. Ormazd was gone. Hadn't she said so herself? Yet her loyalty had never faltered. Now she was nothing more than a sacrifice on the alter, a feast for the flies and the worms.
The Prince didn't know what was more wasteful - her loss of life or the emotions he felt for a dead girl.
It wasn't like this was new to him. His whole life had been about loss. First his parents had died in another man's war. Then the friends he'd made on his journeys followed suit. All of his riches, his adventures, his dreams…all of it meant nothing at the end of the day. He should have known better. He should have assumed that his one-animal caravan would never make it home. He should have figured out that strange women falling on him were not to be followed.
He should have remembered what it felt like to have his heart broken.
Ahriman continued to whisper while he stood there, unmoving. He knew what he wanted to do. Nearly every fiber of his being wanted to chop the tree down and bring her back. He needed her here. Without her, he was as lost as he'd been in the desert. If she didn't show him the way, he'd rot here with her among the ruins of her kingdom.
It was foolish, really. He'd had his own reasons for living until he met her. All of them were now intertwined with her. And she was dead.
He turned and took two steps towards the tree when something stopped him. It was her face, invading his thoughts. It was how she'd looked at him before she sealed Ahriman away. She had looked…peaceful. She knew she was going to an eternal sleep after a long journey.
"I'm sorry."
She knew from the very beginning what sacrifice was needed. He felt stupid for not asking. He could have stopped her, tried to figure out another way. Or he could have turned and left her to fight her own battles. There were many times where he almost did. But the determination in her words and gestures held him fast to her.
What would she say now, watching him struggle with moral decisions not meant for common men to make? Would she beg for her life back? Would she undo everything they had accomplished for another breath in her lungs? Would she gather her people and try to keep Ahriman locked away for eternity?
The answer was as simple as it was infuriating.
Elika would never ask for redemption. She would want her sacrifice to be honored. She would want her people to return and continue what they had been entrusted to do for so long. She would want the impossible.
Who was he to question that? He'd already seen the impossible with his own eyes. His muscles still burned from the struggles with things that shouldn't rightly exist in this world.
"Elika…" He faltered, reaching down to tuck one stand of hair behind her lifeless ear. "What do you want from me?"
If you would have your wish, then give me mine!
It took ten years to track them down. Ten long, agonizing, scorching years. They had scattered to the very corners of the desert, drawn to promises of new life and freedom from the shackles of Ormazd's charge. There had been resistance. Oh, had they fought him! The young ones had not even heard of Elika, their fiery princess who defended their lives with her own. The anger had boiled in him in from the beginning. How could they just abandon their home? Their livelihood? They pointed the finger back at him, calling him a ruffian with no past and no future. Anger gave way to sorrow.
But he would not give up.
Then the first one came to him. The elderly man had holed himself up in one of the northern cities. He had offered the Prince bread in exchange for news of the outside world. The tale that followed brought tears to his eyes. But he could not go back. The Ahura, he said, were no more. It was a pointless mission, a suicide mission. He urged the Prince to go home, not knowing that such a place did not exist.
Two more elders followed suit. They pitied their people and their princess. But they, too, refused to return. There was no reason to continue such a task, they told him. Bury your dead and move on. He didn't have the heart or the strength to tell them that Elika was as much their dead as she was his.
It was the fourth that ultimately destroyed his resolve. The man had listened intently, showing no emotion while the tale was told. After a long pause, he turned his cold eyes to the messenger. Elika's sacrifice, he told the Prince, was in vain. Ahriman would grow stronger until he one day escaped his prison. The gods had abandoned them years ago. He believed that it was inevitable, this destruction of the world.
The Prince could not believe that. Even as he stumbled across the desert, back to the one place that had accepted him, he could not accept this fate. Elika had never wavered in her faith, in her devotion. Surely her death was the only way to imprison Ahriman.
His words returned as soon as he set foot on Ahura lands again.
Your efforts were for naught, Prince. Why do you continue to keep me locked away in a broken prison? Your princess cannot save you. She cannot stop the inevitable. Let me go and I will grant you peace.
He swatted the god's words away. Ahriman would not win. Elika's sacrifice would not be wasted. It was impossible.
Her body was gone when he reached the alter. Ten years had left only her bones, brilliantly bleached in the hot desert sun. Not a strand of hair or scrap of cloth remained to remind him of what she was like. And as dark clouds rolled in, bringing the promise of rain, he felt his heart shatter.
The elders weren't coming back.
Elika wasn't coming back.
And Ahriman was growing stronger with each passing day.
Tears began to flow freely as the pain grew. His soul had been broken and twisted, mutilated beyond recognition. Something in his chest felt heavy. His head began to swim. Has Ahriman finally reached me from beyond his prison? he thought. Has His corruption finally tainted the last pure part of me?
The rain began to fall. Despite the dizziness, he managed to pull himself into the temple and out of nature's way. His feet seemed to move of their own accord. Slowly, he began the long trek to the tree. He knew he could not revive Elika. Not now. But he was a figher by trade. He would not give up. In the end, he would die at the feet of Ahriman, a reminder to Him of what He faced should He ever return.
The Dark God sensed this, trying to make him turn back and reward him with riches. What do you hope to accomplish with his, Prince? I can make you stronger, return your draining life to your broken body. I can reunite you with your princess, even free her from the bonds that hold her to me. Just release me. Give me my one wish!
The light emanating from the tree was blinding. It seemed like the perfect place to die. The perfect place to make his last stand. He ignored Ahriman's protesting and dropped to his knees in front of His jail.
But something wasn't right. Ahriman seemed to be shrinking from him. The God began to curse and begged him to leave. The light from the tree dimmed, but the room continued to glow. He couldn't understand what was happening. Is this what dying feels like? he wonders. A chuckle escaped his lips. If I knew it was this painless, he thought, I would've done it years ago.
There was a crack, followed by a sharp pain below his rib cage. It felt as if something was trying to crawl out of him. Ahriman, he thought. With all the strength he could muster, he pushed the feeling back. It only hurt more, and finally he could no longer contain it. A cry escaped his mouth. His vision clouded and he fell to the floor. No, he said. This isn't how its supposed to happen.
Something warm touched his face. Though foggy, his eyes could make out a face. Several strands of brown hair tickled his nose. Hot breath spread across his mouth, cascading down his neck. He couldn't make out the face. But he knew her. And he knew he would do anything for her.
"I've missed you," she told him. "Where have you been?"
"The…usual," he choked. Breathing was becoming difficult. He didn't know if it was from the pain in his chest or the fact that she was here, close to him. "C-Chasing royalty, robbing graves…saving th-the world."
She laughed. He couldn't remember the last time he heard that sound. "So I see. You've managed to find Him."
He didn't understand. "No. The Ahura…they won't come. Its…too late."
She gently turned him over so he was facing the tree. It was no longer glowing. In fact, he couldn't hear Ahriman's bantering any longer. For a moment, he wondered if the Dark God was free. But the tree was not broken. It was still solid. Something else hovered above it, filling every crevice with a soothing, white light. It felt familiar, somehow. He couldn't explain it.
Nor could he explain the sudden energy that filled his body when he looked at the light. His mind and vision cleared. His ache vanished. He sat up and looked around, astonished that everything looked just as it did ten years ago when the land was healed.
A hand appeared to help him to his feet. She smiled madly at him, like she knew a secret and was itching to share it with him. "Welcome back," she said.
"I'm…I'm alive?"
"In a sense. How did you manage to find Him? By all accounts, He left this world a thousand years ago."
Her eyes were brimming with questions and emotions and things he couldn't make out. He didn't know what she was talking about. For the moment, he didn't care. Instead, he pulled her towards him and wraped his arms around her. She gripped his vest tightly, as if letting go might end this moment. "This is real," he repeated, her hair blowing with every breath.
She laughed again. "Of course. How can you question it after everything we went through?"
They broke apart but kept one hand on the other. He remembered the tree. "What happened to Ahriman?"
"He won't be coming back for a very, very long time. Possibly never. Its all thanks to you."
He snorted. "Me? All I did was ride around the desert for ten years. I could've been looking for my donkey, living the good life, surrounded by wine and women…"
She poked him in the ribs. "But you didn't. You saved the world instead. I think that makes up for it."
He still didn't know how all this was possible. Above them hovered the white light, strangely familiar and unfamiliar all at once. He stared at it for a long while, Elika's hand still holding on to his vest. The light had no shape. It didn't move or speak. But he knew it. Somehow, it meant something to him.
"He must have been a part of you." She broke him from his meditation. He looked down at her, confused. "How else were we able to accomplish so much, two mortals pitted against Ahriman and his minions?" She pointed to the light. "He must have been biding his time inside of you, waiting for the right moment to be released."
It fell into place as she says it. The day it took for them to heal the lands. The decade it took to ensure that all other options were exhausted. That was it. That was what He needed to finally return and stop His brother from corrupting the world.
He felt relief as he stood there, gazing into the light while she warmed his body with her own. And as he contemplated what happened, he couldn't help but take a jab at the circumstances.
"You know, this would've been a whole lot easier if He hadn't decided to punch a hole through my chest. There are other ways out, you know."
She backed away and glared at him, startled by his comment. "How can you…"
"Careful, princess. You wouldn't want your face to stay that way in the afterlife."
She stared incredulously. Then, just as quickly as she made the face, it changed to a relaxed, smirking expression. "Even in death, you can't help poking at the gods."
"Hey, we just saved the world. I think I'm allowed to say what I want."
Chuckling, she lightly slapped his arm. "Fair enough."
He playfully scooped her up, happy to once again be holding her live body instead of her corpse. "So, princess, where to now?"
"How about the ocean?"
"It takes a while to get there."
"That's okay," she said, her face all smiles. "We have all the time in the world now."
What is one grain of sand in the desert, one grain amongst the storm?