The Prince of Persia: The Trilogy of the Tale

by godosnipers

The Prince's tale told throughout his journey, the sands of time unleashed, the sands of time death and the sands of time rebirth. The trilogy among which the prince becomes king of time itself.

10. The Tower of the End, Rewind!

This is the ending of the first game, hope you enjoy this rather..lengthy chapter..

It's been awhile since i've done a chapter this long, and it won't be my last long chapter, so watch out. Things are gonna heat up in this one

Prince: How do you presume that?

Farah hitting him lightly with her bow: We wait and find out!

Prince thinks:...you mean like..thiiiis?

Farah gets kissed before the prince runs:...HEY WAIT A MINUTE!! GET BACK HEEEERE!!

.. wow..guess the prince had it in him after all. i just lost a hundred bucks

ONWARDS!!

--

As he exited the now open gate, the Prince mimicked her under his breath. "I'm afraid... What if I get into trouble?" He was in a small yard, and here was a capstan. It opened a gate nearby. It was evidently easier to leave the Harem than gain entrance. "Over here!" called Farah.

The Prince ran to the now open gate. "There you are," said the Princess playfully. "Are you sure I'm not slowing you down?" The Prince wasn't playing. "All right, all right." He stood for a moment considering her. Had he heard her correctly before? "What?" she asked irritably. "Please don't look at me like that." "Like what?" he replied innocently.

Well, perhaps he had imagined it. He shook himself together and headed along the corridor. Around the corner was a curious device that reflected light from the ceiling back along the corridor.

It gave off a resonant harmonic hum, but served no obvious purpose. Of more concern was the movement that could be seen in the room beyond. "The Hall of Learning," said the Princess solemnly. It was a vast space, lined with bookshelves. And filled with Red and Blue Guards. "We must have come out the wrong side of the baths," she continued. "We'll need to go back through the Royal Palace." "All right then," he agreed. "Let's find a way out." Farah shot an arrow into the room.

Battle was joined. The Prince made the most of the space in the Hall, circling around the Blues and using his Vault Attack on the Reds. He kept one eye on Farah but she showed she could cope if they did not press too close.

He need only break off combat for a second to freeze any that caused her to gasp for help. He spread his own strikes among two or three at once, and in this manner kept all at bay.

He did not have to stray far from a fountain against the base of a plinth at the centre of the Hall. From here he had room to move among the study tables that could usefully block creatures moving towards him. In the intervals between massed assaults, he topped up his health with a quick drink from the fountain.

The attacks seemed relentless; no sooner had he cleared them away than they came again. He lost count of how many he had slain but their thirst for his blood was undiminished. "Where are they coming from?" cried Farah desperately. That he could not answer, but the Prince did not rest until he had sent every last one to a place they belonged.

After quickly dispatching the guards and the trolls who came in later he put away his sword. He looked around to see if there were any quick surviving beasts of the sands. Unfortunately, there were.

A mysterious looking man came down from a ladder from the far end of the library. The prince walked up to him, only to lay eyes on, not that of a man's, but of a possessed man. It was a sand creature he had never seen before, and one he felt could not directly do him harm.

Farah took aim, firing her arrow straight and true. Sadly it was not meant to be, for the creature held out his hand as if to say something, and everything stopped. The beast moved his hand slightly to the side, adn everything ressumed it's movement. The prince had felt the powers of the sand's of time being used before it happened, knowing full well something was not quite right.

The arrow went straight past the creatures face, and farah gasped. "It uses the sand's! be careful!" The prince looked around for a way to save farah, and he did. He saw a mirrored pillar near a bookshelf, blocking what seemed to be a gap of some sort. He raced past the creature and to the mirror. "Farah! you must leave this to me, go!"

As he said that he unvealed a crack. She raced in and the prince closed the pathway, making sure she was safe from harm. he would ask her about what she said later. He turned to face the beast plagued by the sands, but the possessed did not move an inch.

The prince walked up to it and the creature turned and looked at him, peering into the prince's eyes. The prince took out his sword and the dagger, waiting for his chance to strike the monstrosity before him. Using his agility he was upon the Sand Beast, ready to strike his sword into the thing's heart.

His sword was an inch away when he felt the power of the sand's again, and as he struck down he realized, the creature had moved. he backed away, hoping to find some way to strike his opponent, or find a weakness. He thought a moment on his situation. "This manifestation's ability to use the sand's is amazing. It stopped time itself, or perhaps just slowed it down to make it seem it stopped."

He decided to strike once more, but ended with the same result. This time when he backed away he found the creature had conjured up two red guards, and two blue guards. He did not have time to waste on them, so he quickly activated his ability to freeze them. He took down each one with a spinning air slash and continued to fight his mind for idea's.

He decided to try and freeze the possessed man, but found the same result his sword found. "It would seem that this enemy can slow time, allowing himself a breif slip enough to dodge my attacks. I will have to slow time around myself to have a chance to freeze him." he ran towards the creature quickly, activating his power of delay.

He found the movements of the creature to be slower now, and he might have a chance. He thrust the dagger to the creature, and found the possessed sand monster to quicken faster then the delay, dodging the blow. The prince had one other plan up his sleeve that would end this. He needed the timing to be perfect.

He once again ran at the monster, keeping his finger on the button on the dagger's handle. Once he thrust the dagger of time into the enemy's stomach, he completely slowed time down, the power of haste was his. Just as his dagger was about to touch he saw the creature use haste as well, but foundhimself frozen once more by the dagger being punctured into his body. The prince vaulted over the creature.

Once he did he swung his sword down and cutting the shoulder of the sand beast, coming down he slashed down once more, throwing the enemy to the ground. He used the dagger and collected the sands, surprisingly it filled the dagger's powers to maximum. He sheathed his sword and the dagger and helped farah out of the crack. He went to the vision cloud back at the entance and saw his visions.

The Prince explored the room thoroughly after he saw himself preform acrobatic moves through the library. There were two gates marked with switch symbols. A large one with an orange symbol he assumed was their exit, the other with a yellow symbol appeared to be an ante room containing the relevant switch.

Therefore he would need to find and activate a yellow switch first. There was something else in there too. "Look." exclaimed Farah, "a sword." "It would have to be quite a sword to be worth trading in this one," the Prince remarked. As he peered closely into the ante room, he tried to make out a curious symbol set into its floor.

He had seen that somewhere before. He scaled the large plinth to take stock of the Hall. The Sands of Time had swept through here. There were broken pillars and books lay scattered with odd pages blowing lazily and drifting in the air. He could see balconies and ledges higher up, but he could not climb on any of the bookcases, and it was not possible to jump to any higher point from the plinth, though the top of a nearby arch looked promising, yet just out of reach.

There had to be a way to get up there. He jumped down. "That's an odd symbol on that pillar," remarked Farah. "I wonder what it means?" The Prince recalled the Vision in the Harem, and knew that his task involved directing beams of light in this very room, to what end he could not guess.

He made his way to the curious device they passed on the way in. This proved to be a mirror on a pedestal, and had a handle very like the ones on the capstans he'd been turning. He pointed the beam of light into the Hall, then went to see where it shone. The beam focused on the previous pedestal mirror, but this directed it nowhere useful.

Keeping the beam focused on the mirror, he slid the pedestal away from the wall. "Well i suppose i'll take a look through that crack," noted Farah. "I'll go again!" She slipped easily through and left him with his thoughts. "She said 'My love' - I know she did! I didn't dream it; at least I think I didn't. It's quite natural really. Her kingdom's conquered, she has nothing, no-one to protect her... She needs me, I can see it in the way she looks at me. All I'd have to do is reach out and take her hand, and she'd be mine! ...Why am I talking to myself?" "I'm up here!" the object of his fascination called from the balcony overhead.

Back to the matter in hand. The Prince saw that the beam of light deflected at an angle, into the bay next to it. Here was another mirror pedestal. The Prince dragged this so that the light beam struck onto it, then noticed a darker area upon the floor, about the size of the pedestal base, which seemed likely to be its accustomed spot. He moved the pedestal over it and fancied the humming noise increased.

The light beam now shone all the way back towards the door where they entered. He ran back to see. In this corner stood another mirror pedestal, and again there was a dark spot on the floor where it seemed most obviously to go. As he dragged the mirror over it, the beam struck out once more, and again there was the resonant sound. Yet now there was a problem - the beam crossed over itself and then struck a wall, with no pedestal to deflect it anywhere! The Prince examined the spot where the light struck the wall. It showed every sign of crumbling.

A few blows of his sword and he was through. Here now was another pedestal, and another dark spot on the floor where it seemed to belong. As he heaved the pedestal over it, the light shone directly onto the symbol Farah had noticed mounted on the side of the central plinth. As the beam of light struck it, the symbol lit up with a golden glow. The Princess cried out from her balcony, "You did it!" From the top of the plinth a column ground out and extended upwards.

An iris focused in the domed roof and a thin beam of light struck down, its purpose as yet unknown. This action had an unexpected benefit, for now in the raising of the pillar from the plinth could be seen a way of jumping up to the higher ledges. The Prince wasted no time in climbing up on the plinth again, and this time he was able to climb on the taller pillar, and from there leap over to the arch.

A quick balanced walk and he could leap to a platform directly over the locked gate. From here he ran to one side and found a small platform on top of a pillar, with a ledge leading from it, at the end of which he leapt back and off two flag poles, easily flipping off them to land on a balcony lined with books on shelves.

Farah called across. "There's something odd about this bookcase." She jumped upwards to a hanging lever, and the odd bookcase slid open, revealing a symbol set into the wall. "Look!" she exclaimed. "It's the same symbol that was on the pillar." "Stay there!" he told her. "I'll come to you." But how? The Prince looked around his balcony.

Here was another mirror pedestal, this with a handle. He turned it hopefully. "It's no use moving the mirror," insisted the Princess, "there's no light beam." The Prince seemed irritated. "I can see that." He moved it back. It was no use climbing the ladders either; he had no time to read any of the books. On the pillar at the middle of the balcony was a wall switch. He activated it, and a bookcase slid out into the room.

This was much too tall to reach onto, even from the ladder beside it. As he examined the possibilities, the bookcase slid back in. Evidently on a timer. The only chance was to use the protruding pillar alongside it as a chimney to jump up to the top. Had he seen that in one of the Visions? Sometimes they were unclear.

He activated the switch again, then tried to keep a clear head to run up the pillar and start his rebound jumps, back and forth against the extended bookcase to the top. He gathered himself there, knowing he had just seconds in this elevated position before the bookcase would retract, sending him plunging back down.

He quickly spotted another flat pillar top further along, and ran as fast as he could along the wall towards it. Even as he heard the bookcase slide back behind him, he managed to grab onto the pillar and pull himself on top. Now he saw a ladder hanging from a small platform above.

They never made these ladders long enough. He ran out along the wall once again and leapt out towards the ladder and clung on. Moving himself around so that he could climb up, the Prince heard a familiar but unwelcome slow, regular, snapping sound. Sure enough, as he climbed up, there was a pair of rasping metallic blades waiting to greet him on the platform.

The scissor blades were just out of his way as he bent to collect a Sand Cloud in the corner of this platform, and they did not prevent him running up the wall there, off which he sprang back to grab a beam up above. He balanced along this and even as a section crumbled away, leapt over to another.

He and Farah were not alone in the Hall it seemed, for now a fluttering horde of bats attacked. A few patient slashes did the trick once more, and he dropped down to another wooden platform. From this new platform he looked across two pairs of scything saw blades to a third platform, where stood what seemed to be a glowing lamp.

He timed his run past the blades to inspect it. The object showed similarity with the mirror pedestals but he was unable to move it. His best guess was that it was a lens of some kind. About to return, he noticed that the far wall appeared to be crumbling. A moment's work brought its familiar, though mysterious reward.

By now he did not question the process, but was grateful for the restorative power it gave him. Back on the middle platform, the Prince balance walked out on a masonry beam. Though it collapsed across the middle he was able to jump to reach the central platform.

Here was another rotating pedestal. A light beam entered from the centre of a dome high above, straight down to the pedestal, where it deflected uselessly against a wall. "Where is that glow coming from?" he wondered. More importantly, where could it be directed? Looking carefully around the room, the Prince spotted what appeared to be a mirror pedestal in one corner. Guessing that this should play some part in the purpose of this beam's power, he rotated the pedestal so that the light beam shone to that side. Now to work his way over there.

Another narrow masonry beam led out from the side of the central platform. As he edged along it, one branch crumbled to the floor. Careful! He turned onto the remaining branch and from there jumped over to the safety of a recessed platform. Above his head was a set of wall bars. He jumped and grabbed the lower one and easily rebounded off the wall to catch the one above, from where he swung to a higher beam. As he slapped against it, one end broke off, crumbling and falling to the floor of the Hall, now very far below.

With care, the Prince balanced out to the end of that beam and jumped forward to another. Again, part of it crumbled at the impact of the jump, but the rest stayed firm. As he slid along it towards the safety of a platform, the bats returned, thirsty as ever! He slashed as best he could, and as before, when their number was sufficiently reduced they retired to lick their wounds. The Prince dropped down to a wooden platform.

Here were two more pedestals, already approximately in position. He adjusted the first to catch the beam of light. "Listen to this," came Farah's voice. "'Of what use is reason against the power of love? Love is life; so if you want to live, die in love. Die in love if you want to stay alive.'"

"What's that supposed to mean?" he said mockingly. "I thought you'd like it," she snapped back. "If you want to be useful," he replied, "try finding a book that'll tell us how to get out of here." "This isn't that kind of game." "Game?" he thought to himself. "She thinks this is a game..." He moved the second pedestal to its mark on the floor and once again adjusted slightly to direct the beam of light.

"Try to hit the symbol on the wall!" Farah explained. "What do you think I'm trying to do?" he returned. Women! He hit the right spot and looked across the room, where the light was being angled downwards through the lens he had examined. Directly underneath was the revolving pedestal he had tried earlier, now with the necessary beam of light, ready to be directed to the symbol on the opposite wall.

The Prince eagerly ran out along the wall to drop and traverse some ledges, finally dropping down beside the mirror. He turned the pedestal to shine the beam of light on the symbol where Farah waited. At this, stone platforms slid out from the wall between them. "Stay there!" he repeated. "I'll come to you." He hopped over the balcony rail and jumped backwards to the first platform, then on to the second and across to the last. "Be careful!" Farah called.

He joined her on the balcony. "Now what?" she asked. What indeed. There was nothing to do that she couldn't already have done on that balcony - except that he heard the faint ringing that signified the close presence of a Sand Cloud. He hopped down off the far side of the balcony to retrieve it. "There was one more symbol, do you remember?" Farah suggested. "It was in the main Hall." That was right, behind the closed gate. But how to open it? Looking around, the Prince spotted a rope suspended from the ceiling.

He leapt back to the last platform to jump out and grab it. "Fine, take all the time you need," said Farah pointedly. "I'll read a book." Building momentum, he leapt for another rope hanging alongside. From this, another leap flung him against some crumbling ledges on the far wall.

Losing no time, but showing probably unjustified faith in the solidity of the ledges he was now negotiating, the Prince made his way around a pillar to where he could jump back and grab a suspended ladder. Scaling this, he emerged through a hatch onto a wooden platform, where a glance revealed a crumbling wall... In a small room beyond was another mirror pedestal.

Checking outside on the platform, the Prince noticed a darker area upon the wooden floorboards, identical to the ones he had already found. There was no doubt that this pedestal belonged there. He returned inside, and was about to drag the mirror out when he noticed another crumbling wall beyond it. Sure enough, as he broke this down he uncovered a hanging lever. It didn't escape him that there appeared to be yet another crumbling wall in this room as well. The last room contained a lens, which he had already seen was the method for redirecting the beam of light downwards.

Things were taking shape. He operated the hanging lever and was gratified to hear stone ledges rumble from the wall just outside. Now he could get across to where the first mirror pedestal was and redirect the beam of light. On his way out, he hauled the secret mirror pedestal to its proper place.

The stone ledges made a platform he could cross to where the light beam struck the first mirror. He needed now to direct it back to the new pedestal, and a simple way seemed to be to rearrange the two here that had already done their job. He moved the first one out of the way against the back wall and dragged the second one to replace it. The humming increased as the light struck this mirror and he guided it so that the beam just caught the secret one. In this way the light now entered from the ceiling, deflected off two mirrors and struck the lens hidden inside.

This directed the beam of light to the floor below, and the light was enough to activate the final symbol. "You opened the gate!" declared Farah with undoubted respect. The Prince could hardly contain anticipation as he followed the course of the beam through to the final chamber with the illuminated lens.

He clambered over the ledge here and dropped swiftly down the ledges on the outside. "Be careful!" cried Farah. Finally he dropped down to the now open chamber. Here the light beam shone brilliantly on the last of the three symbols, thereby opening this gate. On the back wall under the orange symbol was a pull switch, which surely opened the main door from the Hall of Learning.

As he approached, the Prince claimed from a carved plinth the magnificent sculpted sword Farah had spotted. He tested its balance, felt its power, and sheathed it in triumph. Quite a sword indeed. With renewed confidence, he activated the pull switch. "Come on!" urged the Princess from the Hall. As fast as he could, the Prince made for the main door.

A familiar and unloved mechanical ticking told him there would be only seconds to reach it before it closed, and he dived underneath just in time. The pair caught their breath on the other side as the heavy door dropped firmly shut behind them. They ran down steps along a tiled corridor, suspended lamps swaying high overhead.

At the foot of more steps at the end could be seen a room patrolled by Red and Blue Guards. The Prince made his way cautiously forward. From the doorway he caught a glimpse of the room beyond. Strange glowing orbs hung from the ceiling very high above, where a platform held the key to opening a door down near where he stood, on a platform in the middle of the room.

It seemed a long way up and, should he fall from this platform, a very long way down. Closing on him now were the angry Sand Creatures. Standing aside from the door to leave Farah a clear shot with her Bow, the Prince struck out at his nearest attacker.

Space on the platform was limited, and he realized that a careless leap could too easily send him over the edge, so he stayed close to the entrance, knowing that the possessed creatures would not leave through it, in order that he might have a moment's respite should he need it.

The Power of Restraint the Dagger gave him proved most useful here, and he reserved it for any Blue that he could not vault past when he became otherwise cornered. Methodically he dealt with each one and with Farah's help managed to prevail. They headed out onto the platform, and to a walkway leading off it.

There did not seem to be a fountain or water of any kind, although after his exertions against the Guards the Prince felt he could sorely use one. He considered the platform they were on. "There should be a way to make this thing go up," he said to Farah. "See if you can find a switch." "What makes you think--?" she replied indignantly. "Never mind..." She ran ahead down the other side of the platform.

As the Prince made his way to the Vision Cloud over there, she slipped through a crack. Shortly afterward the Princess called out. "I found one!" she said. "Shall I pull it?" "Not yet!" he called back. "Wait till I'm on the platform." The Prince ran up the steps to the top once his vision had completed. "Are you on the platform yet?" Farah enquired.

He hurried up a flight of steps to a flat area on top. "Now!" he yelled. With a grinding of stone, the platform began to rise, taking the Prince with it. On a level with the upper balcony ledge, it stopped. The Prince easily jumped the gap between and was rewarded with a Sand Cloud.

Rather worryingly, there still did not appear to be any water to drink. He made the best of it and headed around to where banners swayed lazily on poles protruding from the wall. Above these were lamps, conveniently hung also from poles off the wall. He must remember to thank the palace's interior decorator.

In no time he had used the poles to swing up and turn onto a raised platform. Here was a capstan, on which was a curious globe of bright light, glowing a brilliant blue. As he looked out over the room, the Prince could see the larger globes suspended from the ceiling, which he'd noticed from below.

Each also glowed green, amber or blue. The mechanism of which they were a part seemed to represent planets or a constellation. With the evidence of the Hall of Learning he Sultan showed he was a man of culture, and this place was evidently a scientific Observatory. On a hunch, the Prince turned the capstan behind him.

The pair of blue globes under the ceiling duly cranked and turned, clanking into a changed position in relation to the others. He saw now that the larger of the two globes had a metal rod attached, extending a good distance out. Looking carefully around the room, the Prince noticed that the four sides each appeared to contain a switch or device of some kind, and also that there were four pairs of globes suspended from the ceiling before him.

The elements of an idea began to form. Turning the capstan so that its handle faced into the room, the Prince managed to align the rod on the blue globe towards the centre of the constellation arrangement. Between two broken pillars at the edge of his platform was a bar from which the Prince swung out into the room, using a rod off one of the other globes as an intermediate aid to reach a column that extended downwards at the centre of the room.

The Prince certainly felt as if he were an insignificant presence in the planetary cosmos as he looked around at the huge space in the centre of which he now clung. At least, he couldn't help contemplating the vast distance to the ground below. He trusted his abilities and jumped backwards to the rod he had aligned with the blue capstan, and sprang off that to grab another. Vaulting down, he landed, with a muffled grunt, on another platform.

He should learn to roll as he landed. Here was another capstan, marked by an amber globe this time, and it duly rotated the pair of amber globes out over the Observatory. A little trial and error showed the Prince that moving the handle to face away from the room left its corresponding globes with their rod pointing towards the central column. He swung out towards that column again.

Now he was able to use the rod off the amber globe to swing via another to grab onto a hanging lever. His weight on this caused activation, and the entire constellation began to rotate and align with noisy clanking of gears. The whole locked into place, and now the Prince leaped forward to the wall, striking as he did a prominent wall switch. Stone platforms below rumbled out from the wall, just in time for him to land on.

The Prince sensed they would shortly retract, and wasted little time using them to run and land beside the capstan he had first turned. The globes were in their proper position now, so he had no need to touch the capstan again, but turned once more to the bar to swing out among the planets yet again. This time he struck out in a different direction from the central column, arriving on the fourth platform via a hanging lever.

This activated the exit below. "The gate's open!" called Farah from beside it. There seemed only one way down for the Prince from here. He looked into an opening where thick cables extended. He jumped forward with alacrity and slid expertly down. "Here I come!" he cried in exhilaration. "Hah-ha-aaaah!" At the bottom was the lever Farah had used to raise the platform, and he ran to join her now beside the open gate. "Come on!" she beckoned.

He went through the doorway. "Look," she exclaimed, "a crack." "Wait!" he warned her. "Let's see where this corridor goes..." At the corner close by, spiky poles and slashing blades hissed into action. "All right," he decided. "You can take the crack." She slipped through with an airy: "See you soon."

In a moment she appeared on a short bridge over a closed gate at the end of the corridor where the Prince now waited, apprehensively pondering the array of vicious traps before him. "I'm up here!" she called. "Try pulling that lever," he shouted. Farah jumped up to a hanging lever and the gate just beneath her slid open.

For the Prince to reach it would be a challenge. He turned first to the twin spiky poles behind him and spotted the fountain beyond. Was nothing ever simple? He risked a dash across between the spinning blades to fortify himself, before returning with renewed energy for the dash down the corridor.

In one fluid move, he ran forward and rolled under slashing blades, again and again and again and again, to pause just short of a swinging spiked log. Judging the moment, he ducked underneath as it swooped toward him, and dashed and jumped to grab the edge of a wide and doubtless deadly spike pit.

Just ahead of the spiked beam's return he pulled up and ran for the open gate. Here was another corridor, and more sweeping blades. The Princess appeared on a ledge high above. "Do you think I can jump it?" she asked. "Go on, try." he urged. "What's the worst that can happen?" Though he appreciated that she had not his acrobatic ability, the Prince couldn't help feeling that the Princess had an easier time of things.

Even so he called out encouragement as she landed. "There you go." He noted before him a row of spiked tile traps. As he ran over the wall above them, their vicious blades sprouted out. Up ahead was a closed gate showing a symbol that matched one on the floor just beside him - with the added complication that this lay directly in the path of the still sweeping blades.

Again with expert timing, the Prince ran over the floor switch and up the wall at the very moment the blades had swept past, jumping back over them as they returned, to dash straight for the gate that was now open. It slid shut just behind him.

Yet another ornate corridor, suspended oil lamps slowly swaying, slots in the walls where blades would surely be, a closed gate at the far end with a corresponding pull switch at this.

A tock-tock-tocking was all the warning he needed that the switch was on a short timer. The Princess appeared overhead once again. She hopped over a gap in a little bridge.

He called out to her, "I'll meet you on the other side of that gate." "Careful!" she cautioned. "You be careful!" he shot back. Once more he dived under the blades - tumble, tumble, tumble - keeping close to the floor so that the slicing sword blades passed just overhead.

It meant sticking to the wall on one side to avoid a pile of rubble as he went but that hardly hindered him. In moments he rolled gratefully through the gate. Here was a courtyard filled with angry Blue Captains swishing their swords and growling aggressively. Overhead flapped large black Sand Birds... Out of the frying pan into the fire!

Was the Princess safe? "Here I am!" called Farah nearby, "I can't open the gate." She would be out of danger there at least. Sword in hand, the Prince entered the courtyard arena to do battle. Here was a small stone bridge across pools of water. Broken arches and a low wall surrounded it.

He had barely time to snatch a drink at the pool before the Sand Creatures came to investigate. The Captains, even in their horribly mutated state, were expert swordsmen.

Something inside him granted that respect. As much as he reviled them and was wary of their terrible strength, there was too an obligation that for his own sense of worth as a soldier he should fight with honor, not simply brute force. As the demons advanced, the Prince put up his guard and matched them step for step and blow for blow.

He soon found the weakness in their attack. While he could parry individual blows with his sword indefinitely, the Captains needed power for their sweeping attacks. As each paused to wind up their blade, the Prince dashed forward and slashed as they left themselves open.

Though he may catch the occasional blow, should he keep up the pressure they would fall back and fold. It seemed to work best if he turned suddenly to face in and catch them unawares, since despite their size they were remarkably quick to block. As much he showed patience, they seemed in haste and began to impede each other in the blind rage to destroy him.

Ground strokes could knock him temporarily off his feet, but also on occasion each other, and as each fell to the ground he leapt in to snatch away their Sand.

These would not materialize again. In the manner of a samurai the Prince stalked each target bravely, matching them on each strike and taking advantage of his athleticism to evade the swinging attacks. If he kept his guard as they moved to strike, then made his own stoke, the result was a mighty clang of steel as he blocked and unleashed his counter-strike.

By these methods, one by one this group of Sand Creatures was vanquished. He couldn't help thinking that it might have been simpler to run past the lot of them, climb up the ladder in the corner and just leave them to it. The courtyard contained three gates; that which he had entered, one through which he expected to leave, and another behind which Farah waited patiently.

He could appreciate now in a moment of calm how tranquil this place must once have been. He noticed statues of water maidens pouring their life-giving fluid from vases into the pool. Perhaps symbolically, one had been shattered by the violence so recently visited on this place. Collecting his thoughts he climbed the ladder in the corner.

From the top he could jump back to a fragment of archway and balance on top. "Be careful," urged the Princess. An apt moment to warn him, for here were the Sand Birds he had quite forgot, now preparing their attack. He jumped to a wider section of arch and drew his sword.

His earlier experience with the Sand Birds allowed him to judge the moment to strike as just after hearing their squawk of attack. They swooped in only to meet the length of his sword, and each collapsed in a shrieking ball of feathers and flame. With peace to move onward, he jumped to grab a rope, suspended from a thick wooden beam uncomfortably like a gibbet. "What are you doing?" called the Princess irritably.

He seemed to be wasting time. "I don't know," he replied, "I'm working it out as I go." Using the rope to swing up, the Prince managed to haul on top of another sturdy wooden beam. Between these on the wall was the proud symbol of the Palace of Azad. From the wooden beam the Prince swung across a pole to land on a covered bridge nearby.

Two Sand Birds flapped and waited above. Here was a barred gate showing a yellow symbol, and a corridor beyond, but no sign of a switch anywhere near. He could see a flag pole sticking out from the wall on the other side of the bridge, and judged that he could swing up to it if he ran out to a further wooden beam and turned to face it from there.

In one fluid movement, the Prince duly swung to the upper part of the bridge and immediately drew his sword to attack the Sand Birds perched on top. Caught unawares, it took just a stroke of his blade to send the creatures, like the others before, collapsing in flames.

Looking ahead, the Prince saw yet another wooden beam jutting from the wall over the courtyard. He was quite high above the ground now, and chose not to look down as he ran to it before leaping out to another hanging rope. Aligning himself carefully, he swung to another rope and thence to a flat stone roof on a projecting section of the palace.

From here it was a simple matter to run along the wall and drop down to a platform, then drop again to a rampart. Before him in an otherwise empty turret room was a capstan. This took but a moment to rotate, whereon he heard a familiar cry. "I'm out!" as Farah emerged from the opened gateway and skipped across the courtyard.

The capstan opened every door marked with a yellow symbol in the area. It seemed also to have activated traps nearby, as rotating blades began to swish viciously. The Prince could see one open door ahead along the ramparts, yet between them was a nasty looking pit of spikes.

A little too wide to jump with comfort, he judged. Instead he hopped over the low retaining wall and shimmied past the pit on the other side, musing as he went. "I could marry her!" he reasoned. "After all, she is a Maharajah's daughter - a conquered one, but still, her blood is royal. Besides, what better way to tame her insolence? It's not so bad for a woman to have a little spirit. It's a challenge!" He hopped back over and entered the doorway.

This was the corridor he'd noticed shortly before, and that other gate had opened along with this. There was nothing out there, of course, so he turned the other way and observed there the swishing blades he'd activated with the capstan. No doubt he would have to jump across to where they guarded the only steps down.

Somewhere below he heard the scuttling of scarabs. With a jump and grab, the Prince hung off that part of the staircase just out of the topmost blade's reach. From here it was a simple matter to drop to the stone floor and set about the demonic winged beetles.

From a darkened corner he gratefully scooped up a Sand Cloud. Just outside the room the Princess joined him with a relieved cry. "There you are!" "Come on," he replied. "It can't be much further." He ran ahead up stone steps, to be greeted by yet more Scarabs.

The Prince drew his sword wearily. "Not again!" He whirled through the possessed insects, cracking their shells with one blow from his sword then consigning them to dust with another. He soon cleared the corridor.

Thin light glowed through loopholes in the walls. "Watch out for spikes!" he called over his shoulder as he ran above a treacherous pit to clear more scarabs. He waited as Farah hopped gracefully across another spike pit to join him and together they went up more steps until they were outside once more.

Here were ramparts partly wrecked by the dark forces unleashed on the Palace of Azad. A walkway below contained a terrace garden. This part of the palace featured many domes and minarets. The highest of these seemed to reach to the clouds. "Look," said Farah. "That's the bridge to the Tower of Dawn." She seemed to know a lot about the place. The Prince ran to descend the broken rampart to the gardens below, leaving Farah by the gate. "Wait for me," she called, but he thought he'd better scout ahead. Everything seemed too quiet.

Sure enough, as he ran on to a small pond, Sand Creatures suddenly appeared. These were quite easily dealt with, being armed only with short chopping blades, but he had to move quickly between them to be sure he did not become subject to assault from behind while his attention was elsewhere.

Their commander, a Blue Captain, appeared presently, joined shortly by others, but by now the Prince was well experienced and able to block their lunging blows. Indeed, each Captain appeared content to leave the attack to the dim-witted minions with their slow chopping blades, and seemed only to cause trouble for each other as they swung their swords wildly.

Even two were easy to defend against, and if he only kept himself beside a tree they could not even knock him off his feet, being as liable to send each other to the ground should they try. He always had the Dagger to freeze any particularly troublesome foe.

By these means in no time it was over, and he used the waters of the pool to refresh himself. At either end of the terrace garden were Sand Clouds to retrieve, then the Prince made his way back up to Farah, still safely out of harm's way on the rampart above. Here he received his next disturbing Vision, of a place of terror, of cages and bars, of himself at the mercy of inhuman hands.

The Prince and Princess made their way over the shattered ramparts. A heavy gate barred their way. Farah crawled beneath. "I'll see if I can find a way down." The Prince heard her call from somewhere inside. "I can't open the gate," she said, "but there's another one on the other side." "Stay there," he replied. "I'll climb around." To one side of the gate was a metal pole and a jetty beyond.

He swung out and pulled up onto it. He used a ledge to move carefully around the corner, trying not to look at the drop below, and sprang off another jetty to land beside the gate on the other side. Farah looked out, unable to open this one either. Who designed this palace? "There's a staircase," she shouted as she ran off inside.

"I'll meet you in the courtyard down below." "Be careful on the stairs," he warned. Advice he could heed. On the ramparts before him was another Sand Cloud. As he made his way gladly toward it, the ramparts began to crumble under his feet! He desperately tried to turn back and grab for safety, but it was too late.

The stone ran away like sand through the fingers, and he plunged into the depths below, masonry cracking and tumbling all around. He fell heavily, and lay prone, battered by falling rubble.

As he recovered, he looked around and beheld a ghastly place of terror: bars, spikes, stone walls and iron cages, bloodstains and flaming brands; and low animal noises from the Sand Creatures pacing far below. "A prison! In my father's palace was a prison much like this," he thought ruefully. "I had never set foot inside. Now, here I was, myself a prisoner seeking an escape." He tore the last ragged remnants of his tunic from his scratched and bloody chest, a strip binding one wounded arm.

He was on a stone walkway high above the prison floor. A ladder behind him led down to a metal platform. Prominent on the wall was a switch - a sheer drop beneath! Taking up his courage, the Prince ran out and activated it, to his relief finding at once that it triggered a grill sliding from beneath one of the prison cages to land on.

This he used as a platform to run to the switch on the wall beyond, and onto another beyond that, working his way swiftly around the room in this manner. He heard each grill retract barely as he passed, so without pause he continued over each switch, until another metal platform appeared from below, clanking up to meet him just as he ran down off the last one. This platform cranked down a flight. Another wall switch, more cages.

The Prince had an easy rhythm now, and made his way back around the room to another clanking platform, this dropping him down one more flight. The room at this level was wider, and the angle necessitated that as he ran over each wall switch, the Prince had to leap out to run across each metal grill now revealed.

Once more without pause - and with this little extra effort - the Prince made his way all around the room to leap, then swing off an alarming caged device (which broke away from the wall even as he leapt off it) to a ladder on the wall. Descending this, the Prince made his way back around the room, now making use of each hanging pole to swing to the grills as they appeared. Finally he landed on another ladder, to slide gratefully to the dungeon floor.

At once Sand Creatures, sharp hooks in hand, menaced him - ready to treat this unwise intruder as they had no doubt treated many poor souls in this place in life. He felt no remorse as he set about each one, consigning them to their own eternal damnation.

Among these were giant brutes, swinging heavy hammers like grotesque circus strongmen. They were as easy to despatch using vaulted attacks as the rest.

Now that the dungeon had been cleared of demons, the Prince searched about. His thoughts were still on the Princess. "All right, I've decided - I will marry her. I'll tell her the first chance I get," he mused. "It's time to put an end to all this fencing about and not saying what one really means. We've made it this far; it's foolish to deny what we both feel!" The walls of the room were lined with prison cells, bars blasted away.

On the wall of one empty cell the Prince found a graffito of a hanged man, together with days marked off, precursor perhaps to the miserable fate of the wretch who had once occupied it. A deep pit was open at the centre of the room. He could not see the bottom; last resting place perhaps for some who had passed through here. Bones and ghastly blood stains were evident around sluices on the cold stone floor.

He noted a prominent yellow symbol on a large door, which he could only hope, would lead him from this dreadful place. In the guard's alcove beyond the very last cell he was relieved to find the corresponding floor switch. Clearing the surrounding impediments with his sword, the Prince stepped onto the switch.

Indeed the door slid open, but as he ran to make his exit, it slid as firmly shut. He needed a weighted object to hold down the switch. Against one wall was a metal cage containing the last remains of another forgotten soul. This man could be of use in death as he may never have been in life.

The Prince dragged the cage all the way over to the switch. At last the way was clear. Beyond the door a brick-lined corridor, and the Prince noticed one wall appeared ready to collapse... Disturbingly, he observed that beneath the grill under his feet was a river of blood.

On rounding the corner he wondered if his own would not soon mingle with it - slicing with deadly, metronomic precision, a pair of sword blades cycled from the wall, preventing access to the barred gate beyond. Opposite these remorseless blades was a wall switch with a symbol matching the one on the gate.

He knew what he must do. Timing his moment exactly, the Prince waited for the blades to nearly touch him as they swept forward, and in the split second they retracted to start their cycle again, he ran forward and up the wall to activate the switch. Even as he did this, the blades scythed beneath him, but he was able to jump back off the switch and run for the open door just a fraction before they returned.

Now he found himself in a place even more horrific than the last. "A torture chamber. It was the first time I had seen such devices at close range. Close enough to touch. Where were the men whose trade it had been to apply the question; to extract the answer their king sought - if indeed there was one.

In the end they had met the same fate as their victims. Guards and prisoners made equal by the Sands of Time." Scattered about the room were the instruments of torture: iron maidens - mercifully unoccupied - racks, chains, and a brazier of fiery coals. Here too was a pair of pull switches.

As he tried these, the Prince found each activated a sliding section to the wall, which too swiftly moved back as the seconds ticked away. It seemed to the Prince that he could operate these switches one after the other to bring the corresponding section of wall towards the other at the same time.

Perhaps if he were then swift enough he could ascend the gap as a chimney before they moved back into place and left him plunging to his death. Perhaps. With as much concentration as he could gather, the Prince activated the first pull switch and then ran to the other, allowing himself no margin of error in alignment as each precious second ticked by.

He sprinted to the gap he'd created and ran upwards, hopping back and forth to reach the top, whereon he pulled up and ran upwards once more, and back off the wall to grab safely on a wooden beam. Pulling up on this, he found that he had somehow released bats from the depths below, and readied himself with his sword. He had fought hard to get to this point, and was ill-inclined to cede it to flying rats!

Having scattered the persistent pests, the Prince edged forward along the beam. He could see no alternative to a heart-stopping leap across to another beam, a little further down in front of him. He made it - just - and looked about. Ahead two wall sections formed a wide chimney.

It was clearly too wide for him to ascend. Either side of the beam were prominent wall switches. In the expectation that one was as good as the other, the Prince leapt sideways and triggered one switch, leaping at once to land back on the beam.

One section of wall ahead had slid forward, and as with the switches on the floor below, the Prince knew that the other would most likely slide to meet it once activated by the switch on the corresponding side. He leapt quickly to this, then sprang back to grab and pull onto the beam once again.

Now the gap in front was sufficiently narrow for him to dash forward and ascend between the sections, certain as he did so that time would be short before they slid back. With effort, he hauled himself on top of one section, then ran up the wall there and jumped back to find himself, as so often before, swinging from a pole.

It was a matter of routine to swing up to the next and finally to a broad wooden beam, where he hauled up. Perhaps it was not so very broad. He edged out once more. He could barely see the torture chamber floor far below. Up here also were rows of torture devices lining the walls either side. Slung across the centre of the room was a metal bar, from which dangled chains and iron cages.

Using this pole, the Prince swung out and across to the other side, where he landed beside a Sand Cloud. He was in an alcove, light streaming through barred windows in tiers above, precious little of it reaching to that desperate place below. A curious row of spikes was aligned on the wall above his head, and others at intervals up the wall either side.

Opposite each was a wall switch, all but the lowest out of reach. The Prince ran up to activate this first switch, and the row of spikes proved to be the leading edge of a metal grill, which slid from the wall then all too swiftly returned. He ran up over the switch again, then as the grill slid forward, jumped back, using the grill to run up over the next highest switch. This activated a grill in the opposite wall, and he could thus leap back onto that to run up over the switch above that section, even as the one beneath shot back into place.

In this manner, the Prince negotiated each section of metal grill and each switch until he landed, a half-dozen later, on a wooden beam. Thankfully, bats did not assail him up here. Working his way slowly to the end, he leapt now to a ladder, suspended from a domed section very high in the ceiling of the chamber.

He climbed swiftly to the top, cobwebs billowed slowly in the moaning wind from the opening above. The ladder reached only halfway to the top, and as the Prince jumped backwards from it to grab a metal pole, the ladder broke away and crashed to the depths below.

He swung from the pole to another section of ladder, and was similarly able to use this to ascend further to a second pole. As before, the ladder broke away the moment he leapt from it. He swung to grab a third section, thankfully more secure, and clambered up. He emerged into daylight he thought he might never see again. "Over here!" A familiar voice beckoned.

The opening from which he had emerged was at the centre of a large courtyard, like the rest of the Palace of Azad, now somewhat ruined. Farah was under imminent attack by a hammer-wielding Sand Creature, and as the Prince ran to help, others materialized.

He set about them in the same old style, and soon came under attack from Blue Captains as well. Whilst Farah tried her best to stun them with arrows, the Prince soon found that his presence close by was liable to put her at too much risk of collateral damage.

While he was able to withstand the occasional misdirected arrow from her, "Sorry!" in which she called as one of those arrows punctured his shoulder, he knew that she was not up to a sustained attack by one or more of the Sand Creatures. He moved the fight away from the lower level and ascended the stone staircase behind them.

Here, to his relief, was a basin of water, and he snatched a drink when he could. As the battle raged back and forth across this area, the Prince accidentally triggered a floor switch set into decorative tiles there. He had no time to investigate its effect but marked the spot for later.

Drawing the last of the Sand Creatures even further up another flight of steps, the Prince discovered a Sand Cloud. With the Dagger of Time full of Sand he did not hold back on its power. He listened for any plea for assistance from Farah, but felt happier that he was bearing the brunt of the attack.

In this struggle there was no time for the subtlety he had displayed against the Blue Captains in the Hall of Learning courtyard; he hacked them down as they came. Soon enough he was able to sheath his sword and head to the Vision Cloud. The Vision was troubling. He had become grateful for the manner they unerringly revealed to him the way ahead, and in this one came a hint that he might soon call on the Power of Haste.

Yet here too, unmistakably: Farah stealing from him the Dagger of Time! The Prince came awake with a start. He lay on a stone bench, Farah cradling his head. He seemed not to know where he was, and jumped up and reached instinctively for the Dagger. Finding it safe, he held it close behind him as Farah spoke. "It's all right, it's me," she assured him as she caressed his face. "It's me." Her words seemed to settle him but still he held the Dagger away.

Farah turned and pointed. "Look," she said. "At last we're here: The Tower of Dawn." A large gate bearing an orange symbol barred the way to it. Putting his troubled thoughts aside, the Prince noted the corresponding switch high on the wall between the steps, clearly out of reach.

He would need something to climb up on, although the courtyard seemed completely bare. He thought he could see a crate on one of two high platforms at opposite corners, but it was impossible to reach either. The Prince headed back up to the raised level with the water basin.

He ran on to the floor switch and heard a rumble down in the courtyard. A stone block had raised up, and the Prince lost no time getting on top. He could see one wooden platform just ahead, and ran quickly along the wall to grab onto it. The block rumbled back into the ground behind him. Above this wooden platform was a wall switch. Running up over this activated another stone block on the opposite side of the courtyard.

The Prince dropped down and quickly ran over. From the top of that block he made it across to the second wooden platform, where he could now bundle the wooden crate to the ground. He hauled it across the courtyard and pushed it under the orange switch. It proved just the right height to allow him to reach it. "The Tower of Dawn!" said Farah as she ran ahead through the newly raised gate.

The Prince jumped down to join her. They were on a wide stone bridge leading to the invitingly open door of the tower. As they approached, Sand Birds took languid flight then circled dangerously near. Although he knew Farah was useful against them with her Bow, and he himself well able to block their swooping attacks, the Prince saw no advantage to fighting the Sand Birds again, and simply ran hard for the open door.

Farah came close behind. Here was another Sand Cloud to be retrieved; the Dagger of Time was now fully charged. The Prince led the way into the tower. They twisted along a corridor, ornately decorated though in need of repair. He noticed one section of wall that seemed already patched.

It looked about the right size to conceal a doorway, so he struck it a mighty blow with his sword. He broke through with ease. "I love it when you do that," said Farah softly. "Come with me," he urged. "Please."

"No," she replied gently. "You go." As before, the effect of the restorative left him drained and temporarily disorientated. "Farah," he asked, as if surprised at his return to her side. "How long have I been gone?" "Gone?" She was puzzled. "What are you talking about?" "Never mind." The wall behind him appeared unbroken.

Were the trips to the Magic Fountain merely an hallucination? Yet he certainly felt their benefit. With renewed energy he pressed on. Farah raced past him into the room at the end of the corridor. "Be careful!" The Prince cautioned. "Of what?" her voice echoed. "Not everything is a trap, you know." The room was a tall cylinder of pillars and arches.

The Princess ran eagerly forward to a lighted platform, spread with exquisite rugs and exotic furnishings, fine trellis-work all around. On either side were basins of water, and the Prince noticed a wall switch close behind where Farah stood. There didn't appear to be a corresponding door.

He ran forward to join Farah on the platform. At this, a lever clunked somewhere close by and machinery ground into life. The platform was part of a gigantic elevator, which now began to rise smoothly. "That was easy!" commented the Princess. "Too easy," he grimly replied. Something was wrong, he could sense it.

He drew his sword and ran forward to check the area below, expressing doubt in her assurance, "You know, not everything is a trap." The irony was apparent as at that moment a Sand Creature appeared with them on the platform - and another, and another! All 'Strongmen' and as at least as easily countered as before. Less so the Blue Captain who appeared soon after, with Blue Guards as reinforcements.

On the enclosed space of the elevator, the Prince made use of his Rebound Attack to free up some room. He had to keep one eye on Farah, valiantly firing arrows as best she could from her position on the platform, as well as trying to keep up his guard and avoid the sweeping attacks of the Captains, and the vicious hooked strokes of Blue Guards.

Should one or other seem determined to force their attentions on the Princess, he moved up to lure the attacker away, or broke off temporarily to turn that one to stone to give Farah a moment's respite. "Where are they coming from?" she cried desperately. They seemed inexhaustible.

It was as much as the Prince could do simply to fend each group off between snatches of water from either fountain when he could. "Behind you!" she warned as another monster loomed. As fast as he knocked one down and drew its Sand, another appeared.

This battle was proving hard for them both. When he had fully gathered the capacity of the Dagger, and at a moment when it seemed the creatures had the Princess at their mercy and he engaged too heavily, the Prince drew on the Power of Haste once more. With time frozen, he whirled among the Sand Creatures, clearing every one at a stroke.

For the short time the effect lasted he was invincible, and when it wore off theattackers had been all but annihilated. At last he retrieved Sand from the final demon and all was calm again. He ran to Farah, mercifully unscathed on the platform. He looked upward, and observed the curious effect of the architecture as the platform rose.

It seemed that every time the elevator approached the top tier, another level appeared, and another, and another, seemingly never-ending. It was impossible to say how far they had risen. Eventually the elevator ground to a halt. "It's stopped," Farah observed. They had reached the upper limit of the room.

Light shone through leaded arched windows. Suspended from the domed ceiling under which they now rested was a hanging lever, most likely reached from the wall switch he had noted earlier. "Try that lever," urged Farah. Her voice echoed under the dome.

As he swung from the lever a section of wall revealed a small alcove. The Princess ran over to investigate. "Come on," she called. "Hurry!" The Prince dropped down from the lever and ran to join her in the alcove. This soon proved to be a miniature elevator, enough for the two of them.

They ascended rapidly amid the grinding of stone machinery. "The Hourglass is nearby," said the Prince. "I can feel it." "Feel it?" Farah wondered. "How?" He was unsure himself. "I can't explain it." Yet it proved to be true as they arrived at their destination. They were atop the Tower of Dawn, which held the fabulous wealth of the Sultan of Azad.

Richly decorated, and now partly ruined, the circular room was littered with piles of coins and trinkets, treasure chests, precious objects of tableware and ornament, all of shining gold. Yet the Prince found himself staring at something more precious than these. "Your eyes," Farah murmured, "they're green." "Are they?" That she should notice! He felt... "I'm sorry, was I staring?"

This time she spoke gently. "It's all right." At the centre of the tower stood an octagonal platform, a pillar at each point. The Hourglass had been set on top in between, a brilliant golden glow emanating from within. The Prince entered the nearby Vision Cloud. The vortex drew him upwards. The hallucinatory vision told how he could climb on to the Hourglass; and it showed that same troubling image of Farah laying claim to his Dagger!

Putting such thoughts from his mind, the Prince ran up to the top of the tower, the way lined in scattered piles of gold coins flowing from open chests. Faint swirls of Sand blew about his feet in sudden gusts. "There's no-one here," he said quietly. He reached the platform and inspected the strange troublesome object at its centre.

The light within was intense, and it had about it a low, threatening resonance. "Now get on top of the Hourglass," said Farah. He could not climb directly up. There was a ledge running around the top of the room that according to the Vision might serve as a springboard. "Hurry!" urged the Princess.

The ledge ran only part of the way around the room. It would have been impossible for any man not so agile as the Prince but he found it little effort to run out along the walls to a series of pillar tops, where at the last he ran across an arched window and jumped out towards the Hourglass.

Silhouetted against shafts of light through the stained glass behind him, the Prince seemed to hang in the air for an eternity, though it was but a moment until he reached his goal. The Prince climbed onto the wide flat top of the Hourglass, his face lit by its golden glow. "You did it!" said Farah. "Take the Dagger - strike it into the centre of the dome!" A small glass dome covered the top of the Hourglass.

The Prince ran the Dagger against it, was about to plunge it in... Then narrowed his eyes and snatched it back. "My father's army sacked your palace; captured you as a slave!"

"What?" "You have every reason to hate me," he announced. "What are you talking about?" "Now you want me to trust you?" Doubt showed in his eyes.

"Go on!" Farah insisted, hands wide. "There's no time!" She gave a start as the dark figure of the Vizier appeared behind her. He recited a sinister incantation, and with a wave of his hand the head of his Staff glowed.

The Vizier directed it towards the Hourglass. "Farah," he roared:"FAAAAR-AAAH!" A mighty wind rose in an instant and blew the Prince from the top of the Hourglass, flinging him hard against a pillar, where he struggled to hold on.

Farah wailed as she was blown off her feet, and clung desperately to a column as the wind raged against her. The Vizier approached undisturbed by the maelstrom. His tone was low and menacing. "Give-me-the-Dagger!" Farah held on by her fingertips, clutching a crack in a fluted column.

As the wind tore her free she was blown past the Prince, who gave up his hold on the Dagger to grab her hand. The Dagger lodged in stone. The Vizier grinned evilly as he reached for it "The Dagger!" cried Farah. "He must not get the Dagger!" The Prince released his grasp on the pillar, and was immediately blown away by the wind.

He snatched the Dagger as he flew past, a moment before the Vizier got a hand to it. Still struggling to keep hold of each other, the pair were whirled into darkness. "I had faced my enemy," the Prince said grimly. "I had looked into his eyes and I had lost...everything." The two plunged through a hole rent in the floor of the Sultan's treasure vault.

The Prince landed hard, yet rose to catch the falling Princess in his arms. She jumped off, annoyed. "A tomb," said the Prince solemnly, looking around. He jumped down from the stone sarcophagus on which he stood to join Farah, her arms folded in displeasure. "You were there! The Dagger was in your hand," she scolded. "Why did you hesitate?" The Prince could give no answer.

He absently dusted his trousers. Farah turned away, arms folded once more. "You think you're cleverer than everybody but you're just like the rest of them," she said in disgust. "Those soldiers! All they can do is fight, destroy." She unfolded her arms again and went to him.

Aware of the cost of his doubt, he sat with head in hands. "Why did I trust you?" she wondered, then spoke quietly as she lifted his chin to look into his eyes. "Why didn't you trust me?" There was sudden darkness.

They moved in alarm. "Ow!" said the Princess. "Sorry," the quick reply. Farah spoke with sudden fear, "Where are you?" "I'm right here," he reassured her. "Hold my hand," she begged. "Don't let go."

There was a long silence but for their breathing. "I didn't mean what I said," Farah offered. "No," the Prince replied, "you're right. All that's happened is my doing. I wanted honor and glory... I brought this on us." Dust swirled in the faint traces of light.

Farah spoke quietly. "You are brave and good. If this tomb is to be ours, at least the Dagger will be buried with us. And..." she wanted to say it, "we are together." The Prince breathed heavily. "What is it?" she asked.

"Nothing." "You're trembling." "I just don't like closed spaces." He changed the subject, "There must be some way out of here." In the darkness he continued looking. "When I was small my mother taught me a secret word," said Farah. "She said that when I was afraid, all I had to do was speak that word and a magic door would open. I've never told that to anybody."

"I can see why. It's the most childish thing I've ever heard of." Off-handedly he asked, "What was the word?" "Kakolukia." He intoned it roundly: "Ka-ko-lu-kia." There was the clink of stone grinding against stone. "You did that -- didn't you? ...Farah?" Sudden light broke the gloom. The Prince looked around.

Farah was gone! Beside him was a tomb with its stone lid cracked open. Without hesitation the Prince hopped over and dropped down. He was in a rough underground passage of flagstones and wooden rafters set in dirt walls. He looked above and saw daylight through the open tomb.

There was no means to climb back out. He was at the top of a passage and there was only one way to go. Down. As he ran forward, the dirt passage gave way to richly decorated stone lit by a trail of golden lamps.

Gossamer drapes caressed his face as he ran over shallow steps which began to spiral, as if he were descending a tower. He ran and ran, down and down, further with each step but no deviation in the soon dizzying spiral, round and around with no end in sight, the stone steps and the silken drapes and the softly glowing lights always the same, repeating over and over, down and around, down and around, sending his head into a spin.

The passage seemed never ending: on and on it went, down, down, a hundred steps, two hundred, he ran, and ran, and ran. Even as he thought he had descended to madness, the passage straightened at last and the Prince saw faint light through a doorway ahead. "Hello? Farah, hello?" He emerged into a strange circular room of doorways and arches, arranged in two tiers of lavish decoration.

Shafts of light streamed down from tiny holes in the domed ceiling. Motes drifted, sheer silk drapes caught each breath of wind. "Where are you?" he called. "Oh, isn't it beautiful?" Farah's voice came dreamlike, yet she was nowhere to be seen.

At the middle of the room was a shallow pool, with a statue of a delicate dancing maiden on a low plinth at its centre. "Isn't what beautiful?" asked the Prince. "Where are you?" He ran all around the gallery of doorways, with nothing to indicate which might contain his errant companion.

She seemed unconcerned at his frantic, fruitless search. "If only we could stay here..." Then a sharp accusation, "What are you doing?" "I'm looking for you!" he insisted.

Farah called back cryptically, "I'm right here." The Prince decided to try one of the doorways. In a few short steps, he found himself emerging from the very same doorway at which he just arrived. "What the--?" he gasped. He tried another passage. Once again he emerged straight back on the balcony at the door he first entered. "How in the--?" he exclaimed.

What was happening? "Farah, where are you? Farah..?" She seemed unconcerned, murmuring: "If only we could stay here." He might have to, if he couldn't find a way to leave.

She simply must be through one of these doors... The Prince tried another and emerged back onto the room but this time at least from a door other than where he began. Yet still it made no sense. "OK," he decided, "there must be a reason for this." "Shall we take a bath?" purred Farah seductively. "What are you talking about? Where are you?" After mention of a bath, this time as he passed a door he noticed the sound of lightly splashed water.

Perhaps she really was taking a bath, and perhaps through this very door? It seemed no worse than any of the others. It was no better; she was not there and he had returned yet again to the infernal room. Again, through a different door. "Where are you?" he tried.

The dreamy reply: "Take me in your arms." Why was she tormenting him? "I don't see you! Where are you?"

"Here I am!" Yet she was not. The Prince continued around the room, passing door after open door until he heard once again the trickle of water.

He duly entered that doorway. "Farah, where are you?" In a few steps he emerged somehow at the level of the balcony above! "What the--? All right, this is getting ridiculous." Here was a succession of doorways identical to the ones in the tier below. He set off around this balcony too, calling out as he went, "Farah?"

"Just take me in your arms..." she sighed. "Who are you talking to?" he asked, utterly perplexed. As he passed another doorway the sound of splashed water came again. He took the hint and ran in, where just as on the floor below he somehow emerged after only a step or two back onto that same balcony.

It seemed impossible yet here he was. He must simply keep trying doors where he heard the dripping of water and hope one or other led from this room and not straight back to it. "I've been waiting so long." Her voice echoed the longing. "Can you hear me?" he wondered. "Why do you act so distant?" She was surely mocking him.

Why did SHE act so strange? Was this all a dream? "Farah?" he repeated. "Can you hear me?" "Don't you want to touch me?" Her words tormented him. As he entered yet another doorway, even on the sound of water, the Prince had almost given up hope.

But here at last, he came upon the baths. "Farah?" It was an underground cavern suffused in a deep pinkish glow. From a wide sunken bath, Farah came to the surface, naked and unashamed. Lanterns of warm candlelight floated upon the water beside her. "It's beautiful," her voice echoed softly.

He knelt at the side. "Come on," she beckoned. His senses overwhelmed, the Prince removed his weapons and left them to one side. She smiled to herself as he slipped in beside her, then brushed wet hair seductively from her face, before turning away to swim through golden light, which glittered over her naked body.

The Prince swam eagerly after her as she emerged at one side among soft cushions and velvet drapes. He came to her, murmuring, "Kakolukia..." Their fingers touched, tentatively at first. The Prince caressed her. Their faces close, Farah's dark eyes closed as he leaned to kiss her willing lips. -- He was alone.

Cold hard stone beneath him. The Prince raised himself upright and stretched as he tried to collect his thoughts. "Was it real, that magical cavern? If it was a dream, then it was a dream we both shared," he declared. "I know it was!" He reached for his weapons.

The Dagger and his sword were gone! His face hardened. On a shelf beneath a statue he saw a pendant... "Farah?" She had left it for him. Which meant -- ? "Oh no!" He pocketed the pendant, now his only protection against the Sands. He was in some kind of crypt or mausoleum, his resting place a carved stone tomb.

Faint daylight came from above and lit candles glowed in stone alcoves either side of the room. Everywhere was dust and cobwebs. Through a doorway, flanked by statues of kneeling bulls, he could see a brilliant beam of light. Here too appeared Blue Guards - and he defenseless!

The Prince ran for the door and managed to duck past the growling Sand Creatures. He continued along the corridor where the light beam was directed. There seemed no other way out. Mercifully, the Sand Creatures did not follow. Through open doors, the Prince came into a circular room of pillars set with lanterns.

The light beam was presently directed through two of these by a familiar mirror on a pedestal. The room was open on two sides where it looked out high above cliffs. Flaming bowls hung from every pillar to light it. On one side were heavy wooden doors, very much shut and without any kind of a symbol to indicate that they might somehow be opened.

At the centre of the room was a raised stone platform, giving the appearance of an altar. On a plinth upon it rested a sword, which he sorely needed now. Yet it was surrounded by pulsating rings of light. "Oh, no," moaned the Prince. As he suspected, if he tried to approach, he was repelled by powerful energy that radiated from the rings.

Prominently engraved on one side of this altar was the familiar symbol of the Palace of Azad. Perhaps the light beam could be directed onto it, in the manner of those in the Hall of Learning? The Prince examined the floor very carefully. Yes, here again were darker areas on the patterned tiles where a pedestal might habitually stand.

There were only four pedestals in the room, and their movement over the floor was restricted to two on either side. This would take only a moment to work out. He first dragged one nearest the entrance, and positioned it where he could see a dark stain on the floor.

With a little adjustment he directed the beam onto it and over to the far end of the room, where it struck one of the lanterns. This sent the beam across to another lantern and from there back into the room. The Prince was sure he was on the right track. Now he swapped the other two pedestals over and placed them on their respective darkened tiles. With a little more adjustment the light beam finally struck the symbol on the altar.

It glowed bright yellow. The pulsing rings of the force field atop the stone plinth began to fade, and at last the Prince could step up to claim his prize. The sword was heavy and strong, with a massive hooked blade bearing an Arabic inscription. The Prince took the weight of it and struck the ground in some satisfaction. He turned back to the crypt to teach those Blue Guards some manners.

The Vision gave him the direction he needed. The way ahead lay through the wooden door back in the altar room. There was too a sobering reminder that he must now proceed with care - without the Dagger of Time, any mistake would be terminal. One blow from his new sword and the heavy wooden door shattered into pieces. The Prince emerged on a balcony high on the palace walls.

Wind whistled through the battlements. On a platform above him, the Prince could see many Sand Creatures pacing, waiting - and on a ledge above them he saw a fast fleeing figure. "FA-RAH!" It was too late.

She had gone. The Prince hurriedly ran forward to a series of poles, which he used to swing up onto the platform, where he set about the many Sand Creatures barring his way. In a fury, he whirled among them, moving swiftly to each and not letting any catch him in sight.

A single blow from his new sword was enough to snuff out each Sand Creature one after the other! He was standing on top of a small stone building built out from the sheer face of a cliff. The platform was its roof, with a low balustrade around, open at either side. On the floor where he stood was a wooden trapdoor, but no way to open it from above.

A Vision Cloud had formed. The Prince climbed the wall in front of him in the direction he had seen Farah heading. Plaster dust fell at every handhold as he made his way up. Here was a column that he shimmied up, thus able to jump back to another, then off that to a narrow beam.

He looked around carefully and spotted a metal bar protruding nearby, and leaped out to grab it. He hung over an abyss. Shuffling sideways as far as he could, he aligned with a narrow beam, which he could just make out jutting towards him.

He swung out to land on it, and in so doing his flying feet dislodged a dozen angry bats, which gathered to descend quickly on him. Trying to keep his balance, the Prince slashed with patience when they flew close around. He had already learned how much he had come to depend on the Dagger of Time, and a reckless approach would not do here.

Gaining peace, he edged forward along the beam until his toe struck a wooden strut. With great daring, the Prince jumped out for a tall pillar beside him. He grabbed thankfully and slid to solid ground. At least, even though he was on a narrow platform still high above the ground, comparatively so! Through a doorway he became momentarily stumped; there seemed nowhere to go on the other side.

He could see a ledge just above to his right, but it proved out of reach. The wall opposite formed a convenient chimney however, and it needed only a small display of acrobatics after as much as he had already performed. Once on the ledge, he ran up the wall and jumped back to the next. Mere child's play; perhaps this was a game after all. He felt things become serious as he pulled up onto the remnants of a bridge.

In evidence were many Sand Creatures - and there among them was the Princess! "Farah, come back!" he yelled. He watched as she fled into a narrow crack in the palace walls. At least the Sand Creatures could not follow her through. How had she fought them off? "She must be using the Dagger!" he realized.

"Farah, be careful," he called after her. "Don't use up all the Sand!" He ran forward to join battle with the demons. The bridge crumbled behind him; there was no going back. He whirled and leapt among the possessed creatures, not resting for a moment and dividing his attacks among them. As they left themselves open, one touch from his sword turned each to dust, and in a short time the area was clear.

He was standing on the remnants of the entrance to the Tower of Dawn. Massive gates, which even his mighty sword could not dent, barred easy access. According to the Vision, he would have to work hard to get within. Get within he must. He began with a run up to a bar, then a few jumps up using stone jetties to a ledge, and from there, using broken pillars, the Prince sprang up through a blasted hole to the ramparts.

As he made his way around a narrow ledge, he was assailed yet again by bats, with the same weary outcome. He had to keep concentration though, as a slip could send him plunging with no second chance. He made his way around the outside of a turret, to find a narrow chimney that lent him the opportunity for more athletic upward leaping. On a higher ledge the bats resumed their troublesome attack, and the Prince took care to judge the moment to strike so that his blade claimed two or three at once, a few slashes after which the bats broke off as before.

He now edged his way very carefully along one of a pair of extremely precarious stone jetties, Azad banners fluttering gently beneath. Taking his courage, the Prince leapt for the other, and barely clung on as he landed with a grunt. Miraculously, the jetty held and he edged his way back to a ledge on the other side of the turret. He balanced along an iron trellis, to drop down to a bar beneath.

Shimmying along, he saw that he was now high above the entrance where he had started. He swung out to rebound off the palace wall onto another trellis above. He hastened to the wall alongside, where he clung for support as the bats assailed him once more.

There followed another bold leap over the gap between two more stone jetties. His feet caught in one of the enormous banners of Azad green and gold, causing it to billow and flutter but it did not hinder him unduly as he hauled himself up. Thick cloud flowed like a river below and the Prince edged cautiously around another narrow ledge to another narrow chimney.

He was much higher this time of course, but he trusted his rhythm on each jump to ascend safely and grab on to a ledge. From here the way was clear, if perilous. By a series of crumbling ledges the Prince worked his way back around the turret. At length he found a series of flag poles, which he used acrobatically to fly, one after the other, to the ruined turret opposite, where he held on to a crack and shimmied along, dislodged dust and the threat of crumbling stonework at every move.

With this effort he worked his way around and found he could go no further. Unable to climb up, the only option was a bold leap backwards, to use the wall opposite as a chimney, this time not to ascend but go down! For the first leap he aligned himself back to the wall, thereafter relying on his momentum alone to rebound each time, dropping a little at each effort. He knew not to rush the jumps, since this would cause him to fumble and fall, but adopted a slow steady rhythm, and with a dozen leaps he was safely down.

Here was the entrance to the turret, and a floor switch within. Of the timed variety, naturally. It opened the gate in a turret opposite, and the Prince lost no time in running over the crumbling rampart to get there. Inside was a ladder.

He climbed up, but found that it reached only a short height. Ominously there were broken sections of the ladder upon the floor below. He heard then the flutter of tiny wings, and drew his sword ready for what would surely be more bats, possessed of the Sands and still intent on his blood.

As he waited, poised to strike, the door below slid firmly shut, leaving him for better or worse in the company of the miniature winged demons. As usual, a few brief slashes and he was left alone once again. He was now able to spring backwards off the ladder to grab hold of another on the opposite wall. This soon proved to suffer the same deficiency in height, forcing him to jump back to the first, yet at least now higher up.

In this manner he ascended to the top of the tower. Here on a trellised rampart was a reception committee of assorted Sand Creatures. As before his powerful new Sword made short work of them, if he only kept moving, turning from one to the other with no time for them to square up to him.

He sheathed his weapon with a look of grim satisfaction. Restoring such health as he had lost at a fountain conveniently close to where he mounted the rampart, the Prince found his way blocked by rubble. Returning towards the entrance and climbing where he could, he scaled the broken ramparts and sighted a Vision Cloud just beneath.

The way forward ended in a sheer drop. Returning to mount the blocks of the rampart once again, the Prince noticed a pillar on top, from which he was certain he could jump to a series of metal poles nearby. He made the first jump off the pillar, then swung to the second pole. As he flew from that to a bar further along, the pole cracked and crumbled, then broke away, leaving a jagged gap in the tower wall.

The Prince shimmied around the bar to come to face this, then swung over to grab hold. It held firm and he pulled up, to walk along a ledge that had been formed in the gap. Behind him was an iron frame that he felt confident in jumping to, but he needed a little more height.

He jumped up to grab another ledge above. Unable to pull himself any further up on this, the Prince released his tentative hold and sprang back to grab hold of the iron structure, which he now saw was an ornate frame for a canopy, the underside of which he had just used as a climbing frame.

Cloud swirled and eddied around the palace walls below. He tried to keep a clear head as he balanced along the metal beam to the comparative safety of the remnants of a balcony. From this balcony, he ran along the wall to another, then another, and so on around the outside of the tower to which he was trying to gain entrance. He reached another fragment of balcony and could go no further.

He turned to an ornate gable strung between the tower and a turret built off of it. On the edge of this gable, the Prince balanced to the base of the turret. This had been badly damaged by the ravaging Sands, and part of the wall had collapsed. The rest of the turret above formed a chimney.

With a little effort, the Prince scaled the turret walls, jumping side to side up the inside. He emerged higher than he had yet been, wind whistling and clouds still scudding by. The top of the turret was open to the elements, its domed roof presumably blasted away. An adjoining turret seemed undamaged, and here in a decorative basin the Prince found water to restore such energies as he had lost.

Another run along a wall brought him to a similar pair of turrets, where at the first he was attacked by bats. He whirled and slashed and easily scattered them. A careful walk along a slender beam brought him to the second turret, similarly fractured but showing the rich decoration that must once have made it the work of craftsmen.

He did not deign to fight the bats when they resumed their annoying infestation here, but ran instead towards the tower walls and out to another broken balcony whereon they departed for good.

This balcony was rather more severely damaged, and led nowhere. The Prince noticed the shattered remnant of a column hanging within jumping distance off one wall further along. It would be his boldest run yet.

He ran to the very edge of the tower wall and then leapt out to grab hold of the column. Clinging for life he shimmied up before jumping back to land on the verdigris dome of a turret roof. He could see the Vision Cloud he had just left, very far below. He saw then that he had worked his way all around the tower.

Up here was another pillar to climb, and another canopy rail to jump back to. A simple swing and he pulled up to solid ground. A solid platform, anyway. He found himself now very high indeed.

Clouds swirled beneath him and he looked out over the misty towers of the palace below. From the edge of the balcony he ran out and leapt back off the wall to grasp a fragment of hanging ladder. He was almost there, he could feel it! Finding himself now inside a narrow tower, the Prince was able to spring back to grab a central column.

Behind him a gap, through which he could see at last inside the Tower of Dawn. As he leapt into the gap, the Prince heard a clash of steel... This between a Sand Creature's scimitar and the Prince's own sword, in the keen but untutored hands of the Princess.

She had the blade raised in desperation as the brute pressed down towards her throat. The creature knocked her back, then slashed down on her as she narrowly rolled aside. "Farah!" the Prince yelled. The growling creature advanced on her, helpless on the floor.

The Prince pulled up into the room and ran fast to launch his furious attack, consigning first one, then another hellish creation to dust with a single blow and a thrust from his sword. Farah received a swipe from the mindless hulk that assailed her, the blow sweeping her into a hole in the floor. She clung to an edge. "Farah!" She looked up, lost her grip, screamed as she struck down with the Dagger, making a purchase in the stone at the edge of the hole.

She dangled above the floor of the Hourglass chamber. The Prince slashed her assailant to a flash of dust, saw the Dagger lose its hold in the stone. He leaped to grab it, holding the shocked Farah at arm's length, teeth gritted as blood from his tightened fist ran down the Dagger's blade. "Aghhh!" the cry of anger and frustration as the strength drained from his body. Farah looked up and saw the hopeless desperation.

She made a decision. The Princess looked up at the Prince with her dark eyes shining. "Kakolukia," she whispered. With sudden dread, he looked at her. "Farah, no!" She let go of the Dagger and drifted to the floor far below. All was black. Farah lay on the floor of the treasure vault. Peaceful, still beautiful. Dead.

The anguished Prince reached in hope for the Dagger of Time. He could still prevent this! It was empty. Behind him the Sand Creatures returned and made their advance. The Prince clenched his fist, eyes narrowed as he turned to meet them. With force born out of rage the Prince took revenge.

He moved swiftly, turning to strike suddenly as each creature lumbered after him. He used everything he had learned: slashing and moving quickly; keeping his guard and making opportune counters; rolling aside under their crashing swords; launching Rebound Attacks off walls; using pillars to spring over their heads and make a devastating slash as he landed.

He moved slowly backwards, tempting them into a pack, where one would surely make a furious slashing attack, sending his fellows to the ground, at which the Prince could leap in to retrieve their Sand. His Dagger had not enough energy to apply all its special powers, but such Sand as he collected served well enough for the Power of Revival when he became overwhelmed.

He was able to snatch water at either of two basins around the room as he went, circling around and dealing with each creature as patience would allow. He blocked their challenge and made swift reply, destroying each on a single blow and slowly and surely turning the tide against their number.

When he snuffed out the last demon a Vision Cloud formed. He sank wearily into it. Here now was the Palace of Azad, desolate, devastated. No living person in the Reception Hall where he had last seen his father, nor the Menagerie, or on the ruined bridges; no sign of life, and scarcely any movement but the pale morning sun now glittering on the lotus pond, and the laundered cloth blowing gently on an empty terrace beside the well.

The Prince came to and looked around. He put a hand to his aching head, his heart heavy. "Bravely I have fought and slain my enemies. Honor and glory are mine. But though I fight until the desert sands themselves were red with blood, I could not bring back the dead." He was alone in the Tower of Dawn.

Farah lay in a pool of golden light. The Prince fell to his knees beside her and wept. "No, no!" He held her face in his hands, gently placed her pendant at her side.

Tenderly he stroked her face as he sank his head to hers. "The girl," hissed a voice, "is unimportant." The Vizier, cause of all. The Prince leapt to his feet and flew at him with a furious cry, clutching the Vizier's Staff and forcing it to the old man's throat. "Give me the Dagger," urged the gasping traitor, "and I will give you power!" The Prince gave a growl of indifference and stumbled to his feet, slumping against a wall.

The Vizier continued his entreaty: "Eternal life will be yours." "Live forever, when those I loved are dead and I to blame?" said the Prince in emptiness. He held up the Dagger of Time. "No," with sudden ferocity: "I choose death!" He leapt for the Hourglass.

The gasping Vizier screamed a threat but the Prince cared not, and with an anguished cry of rage plunged the Dagger into it. "No-o-oo!" The Vizier shied and covered his head as a storm of light burst forth.

The Sands raged about the chamber, flowing swiftly back into the Hourglass. Time was a blur as all that had happened became undone: the Prince's struggle with the Vizier, Farah's death, their time in the bath, his battles with the Sand Creatures, presenting to his father the Dagger of Time, the siege on the Maharajah's palace... Images confused and overlapping, flashing ever faster as the Sands swept back into the Hourglass, which suddenly sealed at once. -- Storm clouds gather, thunder rolls.

A heavy raindrop splashes to the ground. A Princess wakes with a start. Somewhere a Prince wakes too, the Dagger of Time in his hand. He is in his tent, sentries guarding the encampment, alert for the coming attack. The Prince rises and goes out into the night, aware of the gathering storm.

The first raindrop falls; he wipes it dismissively from his eye. Or the trace of a tear? Running now through monsoon forest, the urgency of his mission drives him on through the rain. He arrives breathless outside the palace of the Maharajah. Within, the Princess steps from her bed, cold marble beneath her feet.

She searches apprehensively around, her anxious breath short. She senses another's presence. A hand falls on her shoulder - she gasps! "Do not be afraid." The Prince takes the Dagger from his side and offers it to her. "This belongs to you." "The Dagger of Time!" she gasps. "But it is locked away within my father's treasure vault. How--?"

"Most people think time is like a river that flows swift and sure in one direction," the young man raises his finger as he moves towards her. "But I have seen the face of time and I can tell you - they are wrong!" He speaks intensely: "Time is an ocean in a storm." The Princess stands uncertain but unafraid. "You may wonder who I am and why I say this," the young man continues. "Sit down, and I will tell you a tale like none that you have ever heard..." The night passed as he tells all.

In thin light and to the sound of morning birds he explains his intent. "...and that is why I have come: to warn you and your father to arrest this treacherous Vizier before he betrays you and brings ruin on us all." Farah kneels with rapt attention. "His signal is a flaming arrow shot into the air. Prevent him, and my father's army will know the traitor has been unmasked. They will turn back!"

"A wild tale indeed," comes a voice. The Vizier appears as if from nowhere. "I have a simpler version," with oiled menace. "A Persian soldier lusting for glory entered the chambers of the Maharajah's daughter, and was slain - by me!" He turns to his master's charge. "Princess, for your own safety I suggest you flee." The Prince draws his sword and comes on guard, ready to meet the challenge.

The Vizier takes up his Staff and twirls it about his body. To the Prince's surprise, the Vizier does not offer combat, but withdraws in an unearthly movement, gliding rapidly away from the Prince to a position by the terrace windows. He makes a bold promise: "I will handle this intruder!" The Vizier brandishes his Staff and imperiously voices a loud incantation in an unknown tongue.

The Prince tries to silence him but the Vizier plants the Staff firmly before him and is protected by a powerful force, which the Prince cannot penetrate. The Vizier becomes immersed in a bright light as he recites more strange words, at which an Avatar appears - an exact but ungodly replica of the Vizier himself. Finding his attack on the Vizier fruitless, the Prince turns to face the menace of the new arrival.

Farah takes refuge behind a large vase, powerless to intervene. "What sorcery is this?" she cries. "Stop this at once!" "My lady, he came here to abduct you. Surely you do not believe him?" The Prince rolls and tumbles out of reach of the Avatar's swinging Staff. "He will betray you!" he insists. "All will happen as I have foretold." He takes an opportunity to dive in and strike the Avatar. "How inventive!" the Vizier sneers.

"Do not forget, he is a Persian soldier." The Prince continues his explanation as he circles the room, wary of the Avatar's strikes. "What I have told you is no story," he says firmly. "It happened -- I mean, it WILL happen!"

The Dagger of Time proves useless against this enemy. The Prince must rely on his own abilities. He notices that as he strikes the Avatar it gives off a charge of red light, obviously sustaining damage.

The Prince keeps on the move, tumbling out of reach of sudden swipes and strikes, sure to regain his feet quickly as he is knocked down an overhead smash from the Avatar being certain to follow. He blocks but the Avatar is quick indeed. Better to keep moving, charging in at every chance when the fiendish creation leaves itself open.

The Prince is gratified to see red flashes each time his sword hits home. Eventually the Summoned One reels back, and the Prince moves in then to slash hard, delivering a succession of blows that cause it to shrivel suddenly and disappear without any trace. "Your exertions are most amusing," mocks the Vizier.

He raises his Staff again and repeats the incantation, with the same ball of light engulfing him and the same ungodly apparition gliding toward the Prince. "Let him be brought before my father," warns the Princess. "He will judge." It brings no response. The Prince tumbles and blocks as before, trying to find weakness in the Avatar's attack. "Vizier," repeats Farah, "I have commanded you to stop! Do you disobey?"

"I have taken orders long enough from a senile old fool and a sniveling brat!" he snaps, then addresses the Prince. "Your father was a great warrior in his youth, or so he would have the world believe. A pity his son does not take after him," his voice a sneer. "Then again, perhaps father and son are alike? It would appear that both share a taste for easy plunder."

"You waste your breath," retorts the Prince, "What little you possess." The Vizier breathes with difficulty. "You perceive my malady," he gasps painfully. "Consumption has robbed me of the youth that you so heedlessly squander." The Prince uses his youthful agility to circle around, still dodging the constant swipes from the Avatar's Staff.

When he sees an opening, he dashes in to strike, then rolls aside as the counter strike from the Avatar follows. He applies Vault Attacks, finding his agility confounds his enemy. This proves the right technique at last, and he applies it again and again, slashing each time and knowing he is hitting home when the Avatar gives off flashes of red light.

With each hit he can see the Avatar slow. He delivers the final blow and this demon, as the first, shrivels in a flash and is gone. "Did you really think you could defeat me?" seethes the Vizier.

He bends forward, coughing furiously. "Careful," taunts the Prince, "don't tire yourself." The Vizier bangs his Staff once more, loudly uttering his evil spell. A third Avatar materializes. Though his health had become somewhat affected and no water is to hand in the Princess's bedchamber, the Prince shows he has the measure of the apparitions.

He wastes no time in getting close and using the Vault Attack, just as he had on his transformed father so long ago. With every leap he strikes home, and a dozen blows later this Avatar also is defeated and similarly vanishes. It proves the last the fading powers of the ailing Vizier can summon.

The Prince moves to the sick old man. He has no pity for the wretch now coughing and gasping, clutching his precious Staff as support. One downward slash and an uppercut from the Prince sends the Vizier flying through the screen doors, crashing out onto the verandah. His Staff is knocked from his grasp. The Vizier gropes on hands and knees, reaching for the Staff.

As the Prince comes through the doors, he uses it to swipe the young warrior off his feet. "And so it ends," the Vizier pants breathlessly. "How will the Maharajah feel if he finds his only daughter slain by the son of his enemy?" The Prince springs to his feet.

The voice of the Vizier oozes venom. "Do you have any last words you wish me to communicate to the Princess, before I kill her? Words of love perhaps?" This mocking insult is too much. The Prince leaps in and serves on the Vizier what he had promised from the start: he plunges the Dagger into his foul and treacherous heart.

The Vizier collapses to the ground, wheezing, "I could have been...immortal." He coughs his last. The Prince sheathes his sword for good. Farah emerges from the safety of her room. "Then it's true," she says quietly, "he was a traitor!" "Take this." The Prince hands her the Dagger.

"Return it to your father's treasure vault. Guard it well." "I owe you thanks," the Princess replies. Then with furrowed brow, "But why did you invent such a fantastic story! Do you think me a child, that I would believe such nonsense?" The Prince takes her suddenly about her waist and kisses her.

The Princess shrinks back, throwing him off. "I said I owe you thanks," with pursed lips. "You presume too much!" The Prince looks at her, wide-eyed in confusion. He takes up the Dagger and taps it. In a blur, he is holding her again, they kiss, and are apart.

"...such a fantastic story!" the Princess says. "Do you think me a child, that I would believe such nonsense?" The Prince thumbs the dagger thoughtfully. "You're right. It was just a story." He gives her the Dagger, holding it for a long moment. A last look and he turns away.

With a nimble step he vaults over the balcony and grabs hold of a palm. "Wait!" calls the Princess. "I don't even know your name?" The Prince pauses to consider. He looks up with the trace of a smile. "Just call me... Kakolukia." The Princess gasps. She turns to look over the balcony, but the Prince has gone.

--

Well well well...end of part one out of three of the story...NO WORRIES! THE TRILOGY MUST GO ON!!

Prince: and if it does not?

then be ready to be dead...prince...

Prince: YIKES!

Farah comes around the corner: AHA!

Prince runs away, princess close following.