Disclaimer: cha, right
Spoilers: again with the prologue
Author's Notes: there are countless reasons as to why this is so damn late. But, for prudence's sake, I'll go over to. 1) Lazy and 2) school. Yes, both things tend to get in my way and cause late updates. However, be reassured that as long as this story remains up it means that it will be updated in the foreseeable future.
And reviews always help.
warnings: those naiads? They're naked ladies, with breasts and everything!
/Chapter Ten: The Forest of Healing/
"Tyger! Tyger! Burning bright,
In the Forests of the Night,
What Immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?"
-William Blake, "Tyger! Tyger!"
The netting wrapped around Farah's head and shoulders. She screamed loudly and tried to claw her way free. Anthria reached out and grabbed her, forcing them both to the ground. Beside them Ctrynous's laboring mass tripped to the ground, the net locking around his legs and forcing him to fall.
"Tengu(1)!" Anthria cried in Farah's ears.
Weakly, she managed to raise her head and look at their new enemies. They were half-man, half-bird creatures. Short and lean, there faces gray and had either abnormally long noses or jet black beaks. They wore long cloaks of black features and flew across the land, squawking. They dived at them and Farah felt the sharp beak of one jet into her skull.
Anthria pressed her hand against Farah's head to keep her safe. Struggling against the binding of the net, Farah tried to gain a hold on an arrow and her bow.
"Leander!" Ctrynous cried. "Get the Prince into the forest. Go!"
Farah managed to turn just in time to see Leander blazing past them, kicking his hind legs at the tengu creatures as he rode by. Farah realized that by backing up before the tengu had made themselves apparent, he had avoided becoming trapped by the net.
One tengu raised a long, pointed finger at Leander. Two of the tengu nodded and took off after the young centaur, their raven capes fluttering behind them as they flew. Farah screamed in warning to Leander and the centaur turned around to face his enemies.
They brought their claws down on his hide, the crow like monsters. Leander was only a foot away from the forest but he kept his back to it. Anthria shouted something to the centaur that only created a buzzing noise in Farah's head.
"Keep on going!" Anthria shouted, her lips screaming into Farah's ear. "Into the forest! They can't hurt you if you just get into the forest!"
But Leander didn't obey. Keeping the Prince guarded he threw his arms up in the air in an attempt to keep a firm grip on one of his assailants. But they were fast and furious creatures, dancing in the air, causing the young centaur to grapple only the air.
"Son!" Ctrynous thundered wildly, kicking his legs out in a panic. "Son, run!"
One of the tengu reared up in the air as the other kept Leander busy. Anthria's struggles increased and Ctrynous was shouting again. Farah felt like the air had been spirited from her chest and she was left gasping in a panic.
And then the tengu descended, its jagged nail pointed in an arrow position. Leander saw and backed up, throwing his front legs out in front of him. But the tengu buried its claws deep into Leander's throat, sending blood pouring down his bare chest. His dark eyes were opened in horror as if to ask if this was how it was going to end.
His body thundered to the ground. The Prince, unconscious and unscarred, rolled limply from the dead centaur. He landed only a foot within the forest as his young, horse-like protector collapsed in a dead heap a foot away.
Tears blurred Farah's vision as she stared down at the still body of Leander. He was so young… only a little older than me… and he… he's dead. She wanted to curl up somewhere deep within her herself and close her eyes until it all went away. Like a child, she wanted to pretend that the monsters were not real.
Those monsters, though, were circling above their heads and they were real.
There was a tear and Farah felt the thin, binding net around her fly off her shoulders. She glanced up to see Anthria, face grim and serious, with a sword in her hand. Ctrynous thundered passed them, determined to avenge his fallen son.
"We have to get to the forest," Anthria shouted over the cackles of the tengu. "We cannot fight them here." She grabbed Farah by the shoulders and pulled her up. Farah was thrown forward by Anthria's imposing hand and they barreled through the mess of tengu, Anthria swinging her sword in defense.
The tengu stopped chasing them the minute they stepped a foot into the forest. The bird creatures howled and jerked their bodies away from the woods as fast they could, as if being close to the woodlands burned them.
"Ctrynous, come!" Anthria ordered as she stepped to the edge of the forest, staring over at the wizened centaur as he engaged the tengu. "You cannot win this fight."
"They have murdered my son!" Ctrynous cried as he grabbed a tengu and forced the beast to the ground, snapping its neck. "I will not let them live."
"Ctrynous!" Farah cried, attempting to go after him. Anthria grabbed her by the wrist and kept her from leaving the protection of the forest. "Come with us, please!"
But before the centaur could answer, the tengu screamed and surrounded him. All the tengu that still breathed covered him with their dark feathers. From Ctrynous's place in the circle a mess of tengu wings and claws they heard him cry out.
"No," Farah whispered and felt her throat tighten. "No." Shaking, she drew an arrow from the hostler on her hip. She notched the golden-fletched arrow and took aim. But, by then, it was already too late.
The tengu dispersed from Ctrynous and the centaur, his bare chest and neck covered with blood and claw marks, slid to the ground. He gasped in a shallow breath, staring over at Anthria and Farah, before looking at his son. Blood pooled along the deep gash in his throat.
Farah watched in sickness as a light extinguished from Ctrynous's eyes. They were still open, those dark irises, but they no longer saw anything. Farah thought back to the day she had been taken captive. The look in the soldiers eyes, and Rosalind's and—Rashym—they had all had the same look.
Hate filled Farah's heart suddenly, taking her on the bumpy, dangerous ride. She wanted the tengu to suffer, these cruel creatures who only knew pain and suffering. These creatures that cackled over the two dead bodies who had only tried to do some good—they were trying to help me—and licked their long claws covered in blood. She hated them. Hated them so much.
A blinding light circled the tip of her arrowhead. Farah pulled the thin, piece of wood back, taking aim. The blinding light became smaller, but no less potent, and hovered pinpointed at the very tip of her arrow.
With a cry she released it. Tiny, bright tendrils of iridescent light marked the vapor trail of the arrow. It struck the heart of a tengu and it cried out as its dark body burst into pure white flames. Twin things of luminescent light burst from its hide and shot into the bodies of the tengus beside it. They too joined the fate of their brethren in burning alive.
The remaining tengu fled, snarling at Farah as they flew. Shaking, she lowered her bow and stared at it. Her arm vibrated with the power of the arrow she had just shot. The electrifying energy zinged up her arm to a place in her neck, where it was left hollow and warm. Her amulet—the gift from her mother that she never took off—glowed against her skin.
"How did you do that?" Anthria asked her slowly. Her eyes were focused and narrowed on Farah's bow, the magick warmth of it fading.
"I don't know," Farah responded, just as slow. She looked into Anthria's eyes. "How do you think I did it?"
"The gods watch over you. Or him." She jerked her head over to where the Prince lay. "He gave it to you, didn't he?" Farah nodded jerkily as Anthria went down to pick up the Prince. "Asclepius is in the center of his pure forest."
"Is that why the tengu could not chase us?" Farah questioned as they walked deeper and deeper into the darkness. "Because of its purity?"
"The forest is protected by Asclepuis. He can transcend death, he can cause it just as well," Anthria answered. "Hades sought him out for me… once…"
"Why…?" Farah asked softly, but Anthria wouldn't answer and they soon fell into silence, with only the small, pained moans of the Prince as a break in the consuming silence.
As they walked deeper and deeper into the thick forest, it became darker and more silent. A canopy of thick leaves blocked whatever sunlight might have penetrated the depths of the woodland. And yet, it was not a frightening thing. There was a peaceful, calming nature to the darkness and silence.
Suddenly, the dirt ground became solid and smooth, white stone. Tree roots cracked the smooth stone and eroded the narrow path it created. It went down into the darkness, the white stone, until it was impossible to see where it ended. The trees had separated, leaving a square patch of free land, but the leaves and branches of the forest grew over the sky and continued to block out the light of the sun.
Farah felt her fingers tighten over her bow and her fear brought forth another magickal energy that hovered inches above her knuckles. "What is this place?" she mumbled, feeling as if too loud a noise would disturb the silence that surrounded the area.
"The temple of Asclepius," Anthria answered, just as quiet.
Silently, they walked forward. On each side of the stone path was a flowing pool of water, overgrown with moss and lily pads and waterweeds. The water was dark and it was impossible to tell how deep it went.
But when she continued to look at it, she thought she saw—
Anthria turned and faced her when Farah halted in front of the small pool. "What is it?"
She shook her head and looked away, at Anthria. "Nothing. Let's continue," she answered. Anthria gave her a look of disbelief but did not say a word as she turned back to the stone pathway.
And then they were there. At the altar for Asclepius. It was a platform, glowing silver in the darkness, and ascended three steps from the ground. On the platform was a tall, flat bed carved from marble. Behind it was a statue of a beautiful, naked woman wrapped within a snake gently sprinkling water onto the divan from the long tresses of her hair, that slightly covered her exposed breasts.
"Who is that?" Farah asked before she could stop herself. The statue's eyes had been replaced with two black pearls that stared at her as if they would never look away. As if they would drown her. And they were so sad, the eyes of the statue woman. Those lifeless eyes almost whispered to her the sad, tragic tale of her life.
"Coronis," Anthria replied and raised an eyebrow at her when Farah gave the Spartan woman an incredulous look. "Apollo may not have forgiven the nymph for her infidelity—hypocritical if you ask me for he was chasing many a nymph at the time—but Asclepuis loved his mother. It is the natural instinct of a child to love the womb that housed it for nine months."
With nothing more to say, they continued their journey forward. As their sandals scrapped against the stone the pools began to glow a light, translucent blue. Farah gasped as tiny, glowing balls of blue light floated from the ponds and danced around them.
Her hand reached out and closed over one of the tiny beads of light that floated around her head. A strange, tickling warmth covered the palm of her hand. But when Farah opened her hand, the tiny ball of light was gone.
"The water has magickal properties," Anthria explained without Farah having to ask. She didn't seem bothered by the watery beads of light that danced around her blonde head, glowing blue in the light. "It reacts to wounds."
The healing scars on Farah's wrists and ankles from the ropes that had once bound her healed swiftly as the glowing balls of blue light faded into her wounds. The scar on Anthria's cheekbone did not heal, nor did the bite marks on her neck.
Slowly, cautiously, Anthria ascended the steps and placed the weakening Prince on the slab of stone on the platform. She backed away and motioned for Farah to join her. The princess came up, slowly, and stood beside Farah.
"How does… he get healed?" she questioned, staring down at the Prince as he gave a small moan of pain.
"We must summon Asclepuis to his temple," Anthria replied and looked into the black pearl eyes of the statue. "However, he is most likely busy with all the usurps going on in Olympus. May I see your amulet?"
Farah blinked and almost backed away. "What?" she demanded softly as her fingers rose to wrap around the silver necklace.
"It will be returned to you," Anthria added. Farah shook her head and handed the medallion over, not bothering to mention that that hadn't been why she had hesitated in giving it.
Anthria placed the medallion over the Prince's chest and bent down on one knee. Farah, blinking, quickly followed and clasped her hands in the fashion Anthria did.
"Your medallion," Anthria said slowly as she kept her head bowed and eyes closed. "Has ancient powers woven into it."
Farah nodded, keeping silent. She had already known that. It was what her mother had said when she had first locked the amulet around Farah's seven-year-old neck.
"Keep this with you, my darling. It is ancient and powerful and it has been passed down from mother to daughter since the dawning of time."
"Before Zeus defeated his father, Cronos(2), it was said that the god was the Master of Time. When I looked at your amulet I sensed Time's touch on it. It is endowed with the powers of Cronos and Asclepuis will be drawn to it." Anthria's voice lowered. "God of Healing… son of Apollo… answer our call…"
And the woods went silent. Deafly silent. Farah felt the hair on the back of her neck raise in alarm. There was no gentleness, nor tranquility, to the silence this time. It was thick, overbearing, and powerful.
A blinding light burst from the statue and Farah gasped, looking up just in time to see the god step forward. A tall, board-shouldered god with a black beard and tanned skin. His eyes were black, like the statue's eyes, and his lips were set in a grim line.
Hardly surprised at all, Anthria stood as well. She rested a hand on her chiton-clad hip and nodded to the god. "Asclepuis."
"Hello, Spartan," the god replied in a booming voice. He thumped his staff on the ground. It was a long, golden staff with a snake twining its length. "Never thought I'd see you again."
"I have made a bargain with Hermes," Anthria replied with a strong and firm voice as she stepped toward the god. "I will cease Ares and Hades from starting their war with India and Persia and return Zeus to his rightful place. In return, Hermes has given this boy his soul back and promised me you would heal him."
"Yes, Hermes has informed me." Asclepius turned and touched the Prince's forehead. "But you did not need the word of Hermes to assure you I would help you, Spartan. You know that I heal anyone who can seek me out."
"You will help us, then?"
"Oh yes." Asclepius reached down and pulled the medallion from the Prince's chest. He handed it over to Anthria. "I already know this boy. A few years ago he took to drinking from my hidden fountain(3). A brave few are able to find my fountain and make themselves stronger from its water."
Anthria backed away and handed Farah her amulet. She locked the scarab necklace around her throat and waited for the healing god to continue.
Calmly, Asclepius lifted the Prince's blue tunic to examine the wound. It was a gaping hole and bleeding lightly. But it was a constant stream of blood. He turned back to Anthria and Farah.
"There are buckets beside my pools," Asclepius said calmly, as he motioned to the twin pools with his golden staff. "Fill them up with the water and bring them to me."
Farah hastened to obey and Anthria slowly followed. A wide, squat brown bucket rested at the edge of the pool on the left. Farah grabbed it and bent down beside the dark water. She dipped the bucket into the water and—
Something grabbed her wrist.
The scream that immediately flew into her throat died as Farah found herself looking into cold, emotionless eyes. It was a woman, pushing her creamy, milk-colored shoulders out of the water that gripped Farah's wrist. Without a word, the woman pushed her torso out of the pool. She was completely naked, her silvery blonde hair falling over her exposed breasts like a curtain. Everything about her was pale, even her eyes, and she held Farah's breath. Her fingers were cold around Farah's wrist, and wet.
And then someone grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back. Farah cradled her bucket of water against her chest and Anthria bent down beside her and looked into the watery woman's eyes.
"Naiad(4)," Anthria told Farah. "Water nymphs. They heal and nurture wounded spirits. That's why these pools have healing properties. Naiads live in them."
More naiads rose up from the water and joined the one that had held Farah's gaze. She didn't seem so innocent when she had held Farah's wrist. Though her pale, almost gray, lips hadn't spoken any words it was almost as if she had been whispering into Farah ears. Let me take you into the water… let me drown you in sweet oblivion…
"Of course, naiads are known also known to drag youths into their pools and never return them. I suppose, in their way, they think they're protecting them from the harshness of the outside world by drowning them in their pools." Anthria stood and helped Farah to her feet. "I advise caution."
"I don't plan on going near them again," Farah replied and, as they walked back to Asclepius, she looked over at the naiads. Their pale, electric blue eyes followed hers. She shuddered.
"Hurry now. This boy doesn't have much time," Asclepius called from his position in front of the Prince. "You must bring the water to me."
"Therapevo(5)," the naiads whispered from the pool, their gentle words reaching Anthria and Farah and wrapping around them like silk. It affected the water as well, causing it to ripple in her hands.
Farah gasped and glanced down at it. It was glowing bright blue again. And tiny beads of water light rose from Anthria and her bucket, dancing around their heads. Asclepius nodded as if he agreed with it and motioned for them to come closer.
He grabbed the bucket from Anthria's hands and set it beside the Prince's head. With his free hand he dipped his long, wrinkled fingers into the bucket. His hand came out blue and was almost see through. He touched it to the Prince's forehead.
Then the god turned and looked directly at Farah for the first time. "You, princess, take the water and do as I did for the Prince's stomach wound," he told her and she almost backed away.
"Me?" she questioned in disbelief. "Why?"
"I must perform the right incantations over this boy to keep his soul remaining in his body while his wounds heal—it's already about to leave him again—and I cannot do it if I am healing him," Asclepius replied and Farah took a deep breath.
He's like this because he was protecting me… and I… I want to help him, she thought to herself and took the steps. Anthria watched her go silently and then backed away, giving them space since she was no longer needed.
Like Asclepius had done, Farah dipped her fingers into the glowing water. She felt the tingling, warming sensation of her palm. She withdrew her damp fingers, staring at her glowing tips. Flustered, she ran her fingertips across the wound on the Prince's stomach. His tanned abdomen retracted and his lips took in a shaking breath.
She watched in amazement as the wound healed itself. It was like the skin was being sown back together, the exposed blood and vessels sealed away. It stitched itself together slowly, each piece of tanned flesh move closer and closer together before it glowed a blinding blue and then was completely healed.
"Good, little one," the god called and Farah weakly raised her head to look into his dark eyes. "The boy should heal, and not a moment too soon."
Grateful, but weak, Farah lowered herself to her knees beside the dais. Asclepius turned and descended the steps, heading toward Anthria as she waited patiently for them.
"Anthria of Sparta, I suppose Hermes told you that I would have the information you need to free Zeus?" the god asked her with a small smile. Anthria nodded. "Go to Athens. You know how to get there from here, correct? Travel to Athens, then, and visit the Temple of Athena. There, she will give you all the power you need."
"I must do this?" Anthria said slowly, struggling to keep her face neutral. "There is no other way?"
"No," Asclepius answered. And then he faded into the darkness, still smiling at her.
"When will he wake up?" Farah called from her position beside the Prince. Anthria walked toward them.
"Not long," she answered with a small smile.
--&--
Pain… searing, flashing pain. It wedged into his head, into his skull, and rattled his brain. For a few blissful moments he had been spared from the pain and had gratefully floated around in inky darkness.
And then it had all come back to him. Flashing in his mind, again and again. Fighting, the clash of swords—"The gods are angry"—those hideous, hellish creatures, and most of all he remembered—
Farah!
Those creatures attacking her, they were going to kill her. He had to protect her because… he loved her, didn't he? She didn't remember any of it, any of their time together, but the Prince knew he loved her.
So he had tried to save her from those creatures. Those deadly claws had found a place in his stomach and he remembered the searing sensation of his blood pouring from the gaping hole in his stomach.
Then darkness…
But this time light filled his vision, drawing him into a world of pain and living. For a moment, the Prince struggled against it. Then he let the stream of light take him back to the world of flesh and blood.
He became aware of his breathing, of the air in his lungs, the expanding and contracting of his organs, the rapid and steadfast beating of his heart.
The Prince of Persia was back.
Gurgling on the saliva backed up in his throat, the Prince shakily managed to raise himself to a sitting position. All at once, his head spun. He moaned softly and gripped his temples. What had happened?
And then it all came back to him. Farah, fighting those strange creatures, and… and dying. He had to have died, didn't he? There was no way he could have survived the attack, the inflicted stomach wound. He even remembered the darkness and numbness that had surrounded him.
But here he was, sitting up and taking in gulps of fresh air.
Where was he? The Prince couldn't tell. It was dark around him, dark woodlands from what he could tell. He was sitting on a stone slab ascended lightly on a platform. It was eerily silent around him.
His fingers almost automatically reached down and touched his stomach. He blinked when he felt no blood or wound. Unable to resist, he looked down at his stomach and saw nothing but smooth skin pulled taunt over his organs.
Healed… my wound is healed, but how? He gripped the smooth flesh of his stomach and was more than confused. He was worried. Where was Farah?
"You're awake," said a voice and the Prince jerked to his feet.
Then he stopped breathing. It was Farah standing before him, hands clasped behind her back and a small smile on her face. She was alright. He released the breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
"How," he began as she came closer. His fingers shot out to… to… he didn't know what they wanted to do, but he knew he had to touch her.
But then something caught his attention. Movement behind Farah. The Prince jumped to his feet and dragged his sword from its sheath.
It was that woman. That woman who seemed to have been the head commander of Farah's kidnapping. And she was moving right to Farah.
He grabbed her wrist and dragged her behind him. Farah opened her mouth to protest, but the Prince wasn't listening.
"You," he growled.
story notes: (1) tengu are nasty little bird/man creatures of Japanese origins. So how did they wind up in Ancient Greece? Well, actually, I just put them there because they're cool little buggers. Don't let the crossover bother you. Oh, and yes, don't let it bother you that they mostly hang out in mountainous areas. I just wanted them on the island. At least they're still malicious, right?
(2) Cronos was the original god who defeated Uranus his father and married his sister, a titan named Rhea. It was predicted that the child of Cronos and Rhea would rise up and kill him so Cronos ate each one of his children. When Zeus was born at last Rhea hid him and gave Cronos a stone to eat. Zeus aged, killed Cronos, cast him into the stars, and freed his siblings. No one's really sure, then, how a dead god managed to be acquainted with time, but it is likely traceable back to some primitive Grecian culture. The Roman god Saturn—counterpart of Cronos—shares similar odd origins, first being a harvest god and then a god of Time.
(3) just a weird little connection from Sands of Time. The question of that fountain—and their purpose—was never answered so I thought I'd give them one. So, this fountain belongs to Ascelpius and he hides them all over the world for brave, and true, heroes to locate and benefit from.
(4) naiads are Grecian sea nymphs and too often confused with sirens. Whereas sirens brought travelers to their watery graces, Naiads were kind and caring water creatures that wanted to protect those around them. However, there are many cases were Naiads are said to have dragged youths into their pools, likely to protect them from the acts of growing and life.
(5) therapevo is a Latin word meaning 'to heal'. Obviously, this taking place in ancient Greece, most characters would be speaking Greek. However, computers don't often write Greek into their Microsoft Word so Latin will have to do.
reviews
Daemon Velvet: hey now, don't let my opinions stop you from checking out WW. There are tons of people out there who prefer WW to SoT. I'm just not one of them. WW is much darker and much more drawing away from the original PoP series, whereas SoT seems to fit in seamlessly. SoT Arabic vocals and music, intriguing characters, engaging story, and British voice acting. WW hardcore street justice, half-naked ladies, Godsmack, and a lackluster plot. But still, there are
LPHottie888: er… really sorry for the really long wait then, I guess. School's a bitch, ya know?
Specter Von Baren: I'm pretty much obbessed with the Greco-Roman culture in general, though I know myths better in Greece and culture better in Rome. Ah well… and I guess I could send ya some stuff on myths that I found interesting if you want…?
bluetinkerbell: never feel like you need to apology for life cutting in the way of fanfiction reading. It happens nearly everyone. And I think part of the reason why I got so into SoT because the romance between the Prince and Farah was so believable even if it was fast. I mean, c'mon, who wouldn't fall for that posh British hottie?
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"Lady Psyche," Anthria greeted, her voice monotonous and her heart untouched by the goddess's song.
Psyche turned, her moon-fine silver eyes drifting over to the woman beside her. She dropped her conch shell into the surf and approached her. "I knew you would come. I understand you, Anthria."
"No one understands my anymore, my lady," Anthria said calmly but with absolute certainty. Psyche sighed and turned away. "May I ask why you have descended onto the realm where you were once born?"…
…Without saying another word, Anthria stripped herself of her chiton. She had intended to bath when she had come to the beach and being around a god did not make her feel uncomfortable. Naked, she stepped into the alcove filled with water.
Psyche, unabashed by Anthria's boldness, bent down beside her. Her silver, glowing fingertips traced the outline of the scar that marred Anthria's chest, up to her neck. They were jagged and gray and deep, like teeth marks.
"I always wondered why you choose to keep these upon yourself," Psyche mumbled and drew away as Anthria's scars began to glow bright silver. "I know Hades could remove them. Did he refuse?"
"No," Anthria answered simply. "I did. I do not wish to forget."
