A/N: Wow, it's been awhile since the last time I updated, but thank you for all who replied. It does make me want to write more and more. I have been on hiatus for a bit, but hopefully I can now continue to share this story with you all. Thank you for taking the time to read and review. Enjoy!
Destiny
A Prince of Persia Fanfiction
011 A Magic Dagger
I stood motionless amid the crowded nobles who were conversing gaily, exchanging stories with raucous laughter and grins of delight. Lavishly garbed men with red and brown turbans and exquisitely designed robes stood in groups as passing female servants weaved their way around with trays of an immense variety of fruits enough to feed a small city. Dancers in brightly colored gowns sashayed around the large room, their sashes flowing as if the wind was blowing through. Flaming candles in polished chandeliers lit the large reception room in a bath of shadowed light. The flickering illumination revealed garlands of red and white blooms that hung on the high vaulted ceiling supported by large smooth columns. Standing against the walls were armed soldiers who were haphazardly looking around, not in the slightest bit troubled.
The decorated balcony where I stood looked over the central area where a large tasseled parasol hung. Underneath, sat the King on a dais laden with huge cushions. The gold leaf pattern on his sleeves and back glittered in the candlelight and the gold crown on his head glimmered as the large encrusted jewels shone brilliantly. I stared at him with awe, not believing that this man governed an entire empire. Despite the King's old age; his manner was regal and majestic, his tone of voice was rich with candor, and within his eyes lives a wisdom that stains the lives of all those who have ever had the beneficial chance of partaking such knowledge.
I suddenly cringed as my gaze fell on the figure of the High Priestess. She stood next to King Sharaman, a smile of forced elation on her features. Discarding the navy clothes she had worn earlier for robes of deep gold threaded with silhouettes of silver jasmine, Taya looked much younger. Her face was painted with bronze and rose hues and her long hair was braided behind her back in tendrils of shimmering black. Although, she radiated with beauty and innocence, her dark secret could not disguise the loathing that burned in my chest. I suddenly had the strong urge to cry out and announce that the Princess's murderer stood in this very room, but doubt quickly smothered that thought away. Who would believe a nobody such as me? I had no concrete evidence to prove her guilt. The only witness to the High Priestess's treachery was now gone. Anguish rendered within me as Eina's face flashed across the pages of my memory.
Forcing those uncomfortable images away, I tore my glare from the smiling face of the High Priestess and searched the vast room for Dastan. After several moments of seeking, I found him standing off to the side speaking with a bald man in black garments stitched with yellow trim. The man had a striking resemblance to the King, but his demeanor was more detached and withdrawn. I realized this must be Nizam; brother to the King and uncle to Dastan. They both smiled at something Nizam said and then Dastan was called over to King Sharaman. I watched with interest as Father and Son conversed in low tones. As if giving the pair some privacy, Taya had suddenly disappeared and then reemerged by the side of Nizam.
Taking a few short steps ahead, I peered through the shifting bodies trying to discern what was going on when King Sharaman suddenly praised his third son loudly on such a successful invasion. Cheers and applause echoed through the room as Dastan's grin warmed my heart. A bundle of garments were then presented to the King from his son as a present. A beautiful cloak of ivory and sequins cascaded down to the marble floor as the prayer robe of Alumut's regent hung from King Sharaman's shoulders. The crowd marveled at its' intricate elegance; voices of awe resounded near me mixed with sighs of wonder. The noise escalated while everyone began talking at once. I squinted through the moving forms trying better to see this spectacular robe that I did not notice the body that materialized next to me.
"Hello."
I gasped, startled and turned to see Dastan grinning at me. His knack for stealthy surprise will be the death of me as I recovered quickly from astonishment. His fierce ardent stare caused feathery wings to flap in my chest.
"Do you enjoy appearing like a ghost?" I asked. He chuckled and leaned in close. The scent of his skin called forth the longing that slept in my heart. His warm breath on my cheek awakened the desire that simmered beneath the surface.
"Why? Do I frighten you?" Dastan teased, alluringly. I shook my head, my face blazed with heat. He noticed the blush that made me speechless and laughed. "It's alright. You-"
He never finished his sentence, because a commotion drew his attention towards the dais. I followed his gaze and saw chaos unfold. King Sharaman was screaming as smoke spewed from within the decorated robe he wore. He tried to take it off, but shouted in vain as his fingers fumbled with the hem. His neck began to incinerate, the skin turning black revealing red burnt flesh. People scrambled about; some drew away in horror and others pushed and shoved not quite sure what was happening. Cries of terror were drowned as the King's screams grew shriller. Dastan leaped through the throng of bodies toward his father. A man wearing Persian armor reached the King first. The look of utter shock on his face intensified as his hands tried to undo the robe.
"Do not touch it! The robe is poisoned!" a cacophony of voices cried out as guards pulled the stunned man away. He howled in resistance and watched the King writhe on the floor. Dastan finally reached his father and began yelling into the din.
"Someone help him!" The pain and fear in his face and voice were evident as he knelt next to the King. "Help him!"
The tortured emotions on Dastan's features mirrored the ones on the restrained man. With a cry of outrage, he pointed an accusing finger at Dastan and bellowed full of anger.
"The robe, the one you gave Father! You poisoned him!"
Dastan shook his head in bewilderment and threw his hands up in defiance.
"No, Garsiv!"
Before Dastan could do any more, Garsiv gestured to the guards and roared with a voice infested with fury.
"Murderer! Seize him!"
Guards advanced quickly and the sounds of steel unsheathing rung in the air. Dastan darted in between the soldiers who stormed in by the numbers and disappeared from my sight. I stumbled away toward the wall opening onto the balcony and tripped over a fallen chair. Crashing to the floor, the veil that hid my face sailed over my head obstructing my line of sight. Ripping the fabric away and cursing my clumsiness, I realized that the marble balustrade ringing the veranda were inches from my face. Standing up in a flourish, I tried to desperately think of a plan. I searched left and right for an escape route and when finding none, fear seeped into my chest.
"You!" a familiar voice cried out. I turned and spotted the High Priestess standing a few feet away, staring at me with a stunned expression. "How did you get here?" Dread coursed through my body, paralyzing me into numbness. She hastened in my direction, dodging bodies and overturned furniture. I backed up until my back hit the balcony railing and realized I had nowhere else to go. From the pandemonium emerged Dastan; his silk robe flying behind him and the crimson scarf that hung from his neck loose and trailing. He reached me in swift running strides, ducking and eluding the soldiers that followed. Grabbing me by the arm, he swung me around to face the balmy night air.
"We have to jump!" Dastan said and pulled me onto the railing. I looked down into the gloom and gasped.
"Jump?" I breathed and before I could react, Dastan yanked me over the edge. The rush of air was short lived as I heard my own scream pierce the night. The feeling of weightlessness underneath me was something I did not enjoy, but what greeted me next was something I was not expecting. Jolting shock enveloped me as I crashed into the freezing cold waters of a huge fountain. Gasping for air and shivering from the chill, I emerged from the surface. Wiping my face with the back of my hand, I propelled myself to the edge of the basin. Dastan had already jumped out and without effort, he lifted me out and hurried to several stone posts with large statues. I squinted in the dim light and followed. When I drew near, the statues moved and I stepped back in alarm. Whinnying rendered the still calm and I recognized the sleek bodies of horses. Dastan's back melted in and out of the darkness as he slashed at the cord that tied the farthest horse. Voices suddenly echoed through the air and the rush of booted feet vibrated perilously close. The soldiers marched forward, searching the blackness. Dastan mounted the back of the horse and stretched his hand down to me.
"Come," he said and pulled me up so that I sat behind him. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I clutched onto him as he steered the horse away. The voices became fainter as we galloped further. The wetness from the unpredicted bath made my skin colder as the wind whipped by. My lips quivered as I felt the damp of Dastan's clothes on my cheek. A soft whistling shot past us and more of it pursued after as we weaved through the narrow cobblestoned roads of the palace district.
"Get down!" Dastan shouted from the front and leaned to the side. I followed his directions and bent down to the horse's flank. Arrows whizzed by, narrowly missing us. Under the cover of darkness, most of the deadly projectiles did no harm. Soon, we were out of range and racing through the streets. Dastan steered us toward the east and as we neared the inner gate, I discerned remnants of broken and burned wood. Pieces of it lay scattered everywhere, clumps of jagged scraps that marked the siege of the invasion hours earlier. A few soldiers milled about, patrolling the perimeter with little interest. We galloped past the fragments of the inner gate to the outer entry a few yards beyond. More soldiers guarded this entrance and Dastan pulled on the reins slowing us down.
"Open the gate!" he demanded in a commanding tone. The soldiers instantly began unlocking the doors as they recognized who was ordering them. Obviously, these men did not receive word yet of our escape and hastily did what they were told. Encouraging the horse to pick up speed, Dastan yanked on the harness and the horse responded with a loud whinnying. We sped through the city gate and into the awaiting desert.
Night's cloak drowned us in an immense cover of shadows while the illuminated moon showed us the path with glowing certainty. We rode for endless miles past sand dunes that all looked the same. It was not until we reached rocky cliffs rising out of the loose soil with sparse vegetation scattered about as if it was put there as an afterthought that we finally slowed down. Dastan picked an area where a patch of large rocks were scattered in a circle next to some lonely looking trees as a resting stop. I climbed down from the horse and rubbed my stiff legs. Without hesitation, Dastan began gathering pieces of wood from the surrounding area. He said not one word, but judging from his taut lips and steely eyes, anger simmered underneath his exterior.
"Are you alright?" I asked, tentatively, when he returned. Dastan dropped the pile of timber on the pebbled ground and began kindling a fire.
"This is ridiculous!" he spat in disgust. Sighing in disbelief, he finally created flames. Crackling erupted and orange light flickered into life. Dastan stood up, yanked his brown robe off and threw it furiously at the ground. I watched him, cautiously, not sure if I should say or do something.
"I did not kill my father!" he insisted, vehemently. Pacing back and forth in distress, Dastan began protesting his innocence. "I had nothing to do with it! Why would I poison my own father?"
He glanced at me and when I didn't answer, his cobalt eyes widened in accusation.
"You think I did, don't you?"
"I never said that!" I replied, hurt. He had mistaken the guarded look on my face for skepticism. Not once did the thought of him murdering his own father ever enter my mind. I remembered the fondness he spoke of whenever the King was mentioned. I knew he loved his father dearly.
"You never said anything either!" Dastan shouted, rage seething in his pained face. He reached behind his back and retrieved the mysterious dagger. With a nonchalant thrust, he threw the dagger into the ground. The blade sank into the rocky earth, its' jeweled hilt protruded with an eerie gleam.
"Do not take your anger out on me," I replied, trying to quell my own temper. "You are only mad because you have been blamed for something you did not do!"
Dastan let out an impatient sigh and then looked at me, confusion and surprise etched onto his handsome face. He turned left and right, momentarily baffled. I observed him perturbed myself at his sudden lost of rage. His whole demeanor changed as swiftly as the wind; from angry to shock and then awe. Dastan took one quick glance at the dagger still impaled in the ground and then hastily glimpsed out into the night in the direction that we had come from. With a leap and a yell, he ran towards me grabbing the dagger in one smooth move.
"Lillei!" Dastan bellowed and shoved me backwards so hard that we both tumbled to the hard terrain. Within a second after we plunged to the ground, an arrow shot through the silent night and landed on the very spot that I had been standing. Scrambling up in a flurry of sand, Dastan dragged me away from the circle of rocks and the flickering campfire.
"Quickly!" he urged and put his forefinger and thumb into his lips. A sharp whistle echoed into the dark and the sound of hoofs galloping closer reverberated to our left. I was still in a stupor, trying to determine how he had known to push me out of harm's way, when the horse that we had previously been riding appeared from out of the shadows. Faintly now, I could hear distant voices and the neighing of approaching steeds. The thudding of a dozen arrows into tough soil mimicked the singing and flapping of bird's wings, as I realized we had been discovered.
"How did they find us so fast?" I asked and climbed onto the awaiting horse. Dastan jumped up behind me and tugged on the reins.
"Garsiv is the second best tracker in the Empire. He will not stop until he finds me," he answered as the magnificent horse flew across the sand. Our flight was riddled with moments of fleeting relief only to be interrupted with the blinking torches of the pursuit that followed. The landscape of night added unpredictable dangers to our getaway. The rugged paths of the mountains were rocky and loose with stones and debris making it difficult for us to move with a consistent speed. The faraway moon was the only means of brightness to illuminate our path and although it was sufficient light, it did not prevent us from stumbling into fractures created by months of moisture depravity.
Throughout our perilous journey from the circle of rocks, Dastan repeatedly rubbed my left shoulder and I felt a trembling in his body that began to concern me. He was clearly shaken as if he had glimpsed something terrible and couldn't erase it from his memory.
"Are you alright?" I asked, worriedly. Jerking the horse onto a trail barely visible in the dark that wound through a narrow valley of clustered trees, Dastan ignored my question and answered instead.
"There are caves here that we can hide in."
Maneuvering the horse through the concealed path, he led us into a thicket of wood that seemed strange here in this desert wasteland. The sound of trickling water could be heard faintly a few yards away. We dismounted next to a wall of lonely sandstone that was obscured by the surrounding brush. Securing the exhausted horse, we entered a small crevice in the stone that opened into a cramped pocket of sedimentary rock. The layered floor was a surprisingly smooth quartz and as I sat down the coolness from the slabs suddenly chilled me. Dastan took one more glance out into the night and then came to sit next to me.
"Are you alright?" I asked once again still troubled. The sliver of meager light that shone through the crack in the wall did not reach his face so I could not read his expression. He was silent for some time and then I felt his warm fingertips on my wrist.
"When we were back there at the rocks...we were attacked," Dastan began as his touch climbed up my arm sending more chills to race within me and not as a result from the stone beneath me.
"I know we were."
He continued as if he didn't hear me, the tone of his voice growing more pained.
"We were ambushed...three times," Dastan admitted as I listened to him, confused. "Two out of those three times, you were shot with that arrow...here." His fingers stopped on my left shoulder, the one he had been rubbing earlier. My mind went over our earlier escape and it was nothing to what he had just described.
"What are you saying? I don't understand."
"The dagger the Princess gave you, it is incredible. The first time, I grabbed it after you fell and I must have accidentally pressed the jewel on the hilt and suddenly everything was rewinding. The second time, I seized the dagger first but I was too slow because you collapsed onto the sand and there was blood..." Dastan trailed off, his voice faint with remembrance. I could not speak, trying to puzzle the pieces together.
"The third time is what came to pass prior. You would not remember getting hurt, because it never occurred. Only the holder of the dagger is aware of what's happened," Dastan explained. I gawked into the shadows, disbelief coursing through me. He abruptly leaned over and gathered me into his arms with a swiftness that surprised me even more. His skin was warm and his breath was hot against my face.
"If not for the dagger, you would still be back there in the sand...bleeding," he whispered and kissed the top of my head.
A dagger that rewinds time? I pondered with awe. How is that possible? Dastan drew away and shifted with a rustling of garments. The small bit of light caught his face in its' dim glow and within that tiny area of lambent luminosity, the dark terrifying look of fear displayed in his sapphire eyes shone clearly at me. I was at an indecision; the logic of what he had said is so farfetched and yet the conviction of his actions and words persuaded me. Raising my arm, I touched his face with my hand and felt the coolness of his skin underneath my fingertips.
"A gravity defying climb up the royal palace, an elusive escape from your very own soldiers, and now a magic dagger capable of turning back time," I said slowly and teasingly. "I have never glimpsed the face of death so many times with a Prince of Persia. Are you sure you have not taken women on adventures like this?"
The terror in his eyes faded and a grin appeared on his lips. Dastan leaned toward me once again and said with a chuckle.
"No, you are the first."
I smiled welcoming the lighthearted moment. I trusted him with my life this far, what more can an enchanted dagger bring? I suddenly felt his fingers at my waist and slowly moving up to the small of my back. It was only then when he tilted toward me until his mouth enveloped mine was when all emotions of distress, confusion, anxiety and fear ceased. There were only sweet sensations of euphoria and rushing tides of delight that washed away the dark apprehensions. Heated passion fumed within the soft caresses of our two bodies culminating in moments of lustful fondling by Dastan's skillful hands and the faint excited moans that poured forth from my throat. The thrilling ride of our intimacy continued long into the night until sweat flowed down our slick bodies and the beating of our hearts were filled with more than sexual pleasure, but with something much more lasting.
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