Chapter Twelve: Seeing What Never Was

His hand shook as he held the dagger against his brother's throat. Sweat covered his face as he could not slow down the rapid beating of his heart. This was his last chance. This was his last living family member whom he loved more than life itself, and he was holding a dagger to his throat.

"If you're going to kill me, best you do it now."

The look on his brother's face made Dastan feel nauseous and weak. Did it really all come down to this? Would this be the only way to prove to the newly crowned King the real reason behind his ascension? Dastan looked down at the glass handle. There were only a few grains of sand left. He didn't know if it would be enough. But even though it might not go back far enough, maybe it would be enough to make Tus a believer. Tus had to not only live, but be victorious where he had failed.

"I should have had the strength to do this before we invaded the city."

"What are you talking about?"

He gripped the knife and remembered what his father had told him about great men doing what was right, despite what might happen to them.

"To act upon what I know was right, no matter the consequences." Dastan grasped the dagger with both hands as he lifted it above his chest. He was about to plunge the mystical dagger into his heart when his brother grasped each arm, stopping the killing blow.

"Stop! A moment ago, you died before my eyes," Tus stammered, as shock covered his bronzed face.

The feeling of confusion filled Dastan as he looked down at the dagger and saw that the handle was empty. Relief washed over him in waves as he placed a trembling hand on his brother's chest, as if to keep himself from collapsing. He hadn't realized how scared he had been. He exhaled, "You pressed it."

"How did you know I would?" Tus asked still in disbelief.

He couldn't, no he wouldn't hide his smile that stretched on over his face. "Because we are brothers." For the first time since he watched his farther died, Dastan felt like this endless assault of suffering was finally at an end.

It was as if that moment had been just one blink of happiness, for it seemed in the next blink of his eye, he watched frozen as Nizam ran his sword across his brother's throat. His Uncle made him an orphan for the second time in his life.

"It seems the bond between brothers is no longer the sword that defends our Empire." Nizam sneered as he left, with the dagger in his hand, to go gain a new lifetime as king.

Blackness swirled in Dastan's mind. With Tamina's attack cry gave Dastan the distraction needed to kill the Hassansin who had been seconds away from running his double-bladed halberd into him. These men deserved more than death, his mind seethed. Looking down at his brother's now lifeless body, thoughts of revenge began coursing through his veins. Tamina was speaking behind him, but he wasn't listening. All thoughts swarmed around anger and hate as he closed his brother's eyes. Oh he would make his Uncle pay dearly for this! Thick incense began swirling around him and quickly became a thick heavy red fog within the room. Nizam would die for this. Dastan stood from his brother's body and turned to run after the traitor. The red smoky haze around him darkened his path as he ran. In Dastan's rage he swore that this time it would be him that would finish off Nizam rather than Tus.

Suddenly, it was as if someone had pressed the jewel on the dagger's hilt, as Dastan was thrown backwards. 'NO!' his mind shouted. He didn't want to go backwards in time, as the scenes around him surged backwards and swirled in red sands. He did not go back too far but found himself kneeling over his brother's dead body once more. His mind cried out. No, he didn't want to stay here at his side. The longer he remained there the more he mourned. He had wanted to stay in the safe harbor of fury and rage rather than be adrift in the sea of emotions that constantly surrounded him. He now found himself wading out into the tides of grief.

Tamina was once again trying to say something behind him, but he could only hear bits and pieces as tears now spilled from his eyes as he closed his brother's once more.

"Priest….temple….discovered…" but her voice faded as he touched his brother's prayer beads.

How could he stand this? Tus was the big brother he looked up to most. He had thrived off of the praises he would get from him. He loved him more than anything and now he lay here dead.

As Dastan knelt there the room grew pitch black as the blood from Tus's neck flowed faster. Soon the whole floor was coated in his bright red blood within the pitch black void of Dastan's despair. He couldn't handle this. He had no one left. He wearily tried to stand and found himself on shaky legs. The pools of blood sickened him as he tried to walk away. With each step across the pools of blood at his feet, his body felt more resistance to pull him back. He couldn't even reach where the door was supposed to be amidst the blackness before the draw on his body allowed him to leave no further. Dastan let out a horrid, desperate cry as he finally lost the battle and was pulled backwards through time once more. The veil of darkness seem to roll up like a curtain and wiped away the ocean of blood at his feet, as the Sands drew him backwards. The moment he felt his soul slam back into his body he found himself standing over Tus's lifeless form yet again.

Panic filled Dastan as he began to hyperventilate. Why couldn't he leave? He heard Tamina's voice say "…. corrupted… infected…." But he had to get out of there. Jumping up, Dastan bolted for the door, but this time no matter how fast he ran the doorway grew farther and farther away as the room stretched long. Dastan let out a frustrated yell as he collapsed to the floor in exhaustion, losing the battle, and was surged backwards.

Dastan choked back a final sob as he just stood there numb with his eyes squeezed shut. He didn't want to open them and see what he knew would be before him. Why was it so important to remain in this moment? Would he ever be able to leave this room? He felt his body kneel down to close Tus's eyes once more, and as he opened his eyes to do so, he couldn't help but feel like this was all such a horrible never-ending play. His mind began pleading with whatever force that was keeping him kneeled over his brother's body to just let him go. He wanted desperately to move on; to go and stop Nizam from winning. However, when time began moving forward, it was as if all the sound in the room was gone, and in his now numb state, all his thoughts were stripped away. The room seemed whitewashed as if he had been staring at the sun too long, and his senses seemed suppressed, but one suddenly clear sound remained; Tamina's voice.

"He was one of us. He was a priest of the temple. That's how Nizam discovered the existence of the sandglass. They've corrupted the Guardians. Infected us. We're no longer pure."

Dastan violently bolted up from his bed awake. His body damp with sweat, his heart hammering in his chest. His breaths came out in short, quick gasps as he consciously realized what his nightmares had been trying to show him within his Alamutain sleeping quarters. Nizam had spies within the temple!

In the early morning light, Dastan ripped the sheets off him and leapt off the bed, grabbing his swords in almost a seamless motion. He ran out of his room barefoot and shirtless. He didn't give a damn about his appearance. He picked a direction and ran. His body never feeling the stabbing pain of healing wounds with each stride as adrenaline seemed to numb him. He never noticed the looks from the guards and other palace occupants as he ran down the sun-warmed halls.

He needed to find his brothers. He needed to tell Tamina that there was still a threat. He knew the Hassansin from his dreams had been killed already during the battle with the Hassansins a week ago. Yet Dastan did not want to take the chance that there could be more of Nizam's men hidden away in the temple's daily life. For Dastan, if there was anyone still alive who had a hand in Nizam's plot, there was still something to be feared. There was still some small chance a certain history could be repeated.


Princes Tamina guided the three Persian men down from the High Temple and through corridor after corridor, down staircase after staircase, in a never ending walk which felt more like a tour of every nook and cranny rather than a proper escort. Furthermore, Tamina's pace was set to a respectful glide rather than a hurried, purpose driven march, which in turn burned up Garsiv's patience faster than horse hair in a brush fire. It nearly seemed Tamina was taking them around in circles. Yet with all that had been revealed that morning, all three men needed that time to calm down and digest what they had learned. How was one supposed to mentally accept the fact that they had all been killed once before, in such horrible ways, and with Dastan to stand and bear witness to it all?

Tamina could care less if the three burly men behind her wanted fast answers. She had her own reasons for walking gracefully slow. She couldn't be seen in a rush. Her people were still on edge with the Persians in their midst's and not all of the palace staff knew of the secrets that lay below.

Eventually the halls began to change from a bold elegance to a simpler older stone and brick foundation. It was clear that they were now well below the palace now. The three men followed silently onward and without hesitation as she then surprisingly lead them through a hidden passage and across a delicate maze.

The gravity of secrecy was not lost to them now. They clearly understood why this foreign princess had said not even their father could know of such secrets.

Then, after walking down yet another decayed staircase, each Persian man was hit with sudden awestruck wonder at the sight of the Sandglass, as their swears and prayers echoed off the rock walls. Eyes stared transfixed forward with pure captivation at the reddish-orange glow that emitted from the staggered glass pillar which seemed to stretch upwards forever.

Tamina took a deep breath. The sands within the glass were still aggressively swirling showing signs to her that the glass had been tampered with still. She had almost feared that upon arriving nothing would be amiss and that she had dreamt it all. There was still so much for the guardians to learn.

"What is this magic?" Garsiv asked first, unable to tear his gaze away. Never in his life had he felt so small.

A smirk now crossed Tamina's face as she took in the sight of the three once intimidating men, now reduced to trembling pudding.

"This is the Sandglass. It holds the Sands of Time and is what your Uncle had searched for. It was here where Dastan was able to finally stop your Uncle from trying to travel back to his childhood, which would, in reality, have caused the Sandglass to break, releasing a massive sandstorm that would have destroyed the whole world." Tamina informed as they stood there looking at it from a distance.

"That dammed fool," Garsiv muttered.

Tamina ignored him. "Now there is still much to be learned from this incident; never before has the glass been pierced."

"Pierced?" Bis asked questioningly.

"Yes, you see if you take the dagger and stab it into the glass you give the hilt of the dagger full access to all the sands combined. By opening the jeweled end in that state, all the sands would begin spilling out into our world."

Garsiv was catching on now. "So to stop the sands from escaping you'd only have to close the ruby back onto the handle and remove the dagger."

"Exactly," she concurred.

"So Dastan…" Bis searched for the right words.

"Nizam pierced the glass and began releasing the sand. Dastan fought with him and somehow managed to stop the escaping sands and took possession of the dagger. However, three weeks time's worth of sand had escaped during their struggle resulting in the saving of my city and many untold lives."

Tus finally spoke. "So our time returned to us, giving us the chance to replace darkness for light. How is it that he remembers everything while we do not… you don't remember any of this yourself do you?"

"No," Tamina was quick to answer. "Being a guardian makes me sensitive to such changes, but I recall nothing of these events. As for Dastan, just like your experience with the broken vase, he remembers everything because he was the last one in possession of the dagger. If it had been Nizam, I'm sure none of us would be alive right now."

That was a sobering thought to all. The sounds of flowing sand softened in its everlasting pulsating cycle.

"Knowing my brother," Tus finally spoke again. "He did not tell you about this freely. How did you come to know that Dastan knew about the Sands of Time?"

Both Garsiv and Bis instantly wanted to know that answer as well. Dastan had been a steal trap for information. None of them had been able to get close to him.

Tamina thought for a moment then began guiding them all closer to the Sandglass. "I first had suspicions back when he returned the dagger to me upon our first meeting. There was no way Prince Dastan could have known about the importance of that dagger had he no knowledge of its power. His manner and choice of words plagued my thoughts and soon after the days of celebrations and feasts, I personally came down here to check the Sandglass for myself. I knew that there was no where near the amount of sand in the dagger needed for him to learn all I had assumed he had learned. And there was also the fact that the dagger was still full of the right kind of sand when he returned it to me. When I saw this," Tamina pointed to the scar in the glass, "I knew something far great had happened."

Garsiv looked skeptical. "From just a scar in a glowing glass pillar you knew that time had been changed?"

"No, that was not all… the Sandglass showed me far more than this." Tamina's eyes grew distant as she relieved all that she had witnessed.

The look on her face gave Tus pause. Why did this princess seem to genuinely care for Dastan's wellbeing? "Who was the fifth person, whom Dastan cared for, yet died before his eyes?" he asked gently.

Tamina broke from her wandering thoughts and looked at her soon to be brother-in-law and smiled a sad smile. She then raised her hand up and placed it on the Sandglass to rest upon the scar. Suddenly the Sandglass awakened as a blood curdling scream filled the caverns. Everyone jumped and Garsiv went for his sword at the sudden cry. Tamina gestured up at the Sandglass and they all watched her fall to her death.

"TAMINA!" came Dastan's desperate cry. "NO!"

The sands swirled within the glass showing images Tamina had already witnessed. Scenes when her emotions were at the highest seem to play out first, she surmised, as she watched her other self once more.

For the men, there was nothing that either man could say to describe the thoughts that were racing through their heads. The power of the dagger was more than enough to cause them to rethink everything they thought they knew. However, when standing at the base of such might and power, the Persian's didn't have the ability to think comprehensibly at all.

The look on Dastan's face as Tamina fell to her death caused fear to fill their souls. They watched as Tamina fell, losing sight of their brother, and violently clipping her shoulder on a rock ledge, breaking bones, sending her into a violent spiral. Her cries cut short as her head cracked against another rock ledge and continued to fall until she was too far from the dagger scope of sight to have her fate recorded.

Then other scenes of Hassansin's attacking, snakes striking and desert sand storms played across the glass. Yet more surprising were scenes of tenderness and treachery both from Tamina herself. They watched her try and cut Dastan down or knock him out with a bone, but they all were caught off guard and blushed when they saw Tamina and Dastan share a heated kiss.

Tamina was lost for words. She hadn't seen that image before. It seemed there was no rhyme or reason to the order of the images that played before them.

"I don't have all the answers myself," she grasped for words. She worked to suppress that last image. "In fact, I'm not sure why this past timeline now remains trapped within the glass. All I've surmised is anything that happened near the dagger was recorded by it; regardless if the jewel had been pressed or not."

"Amazing," Tus muttered.

The sands stopped playing images which caused Garsiv to finally drop his eyes. After a moment he smirked and looked to Tus. "Good thing you offered Princes Tamina's hand to Dastan rather than yourself," he chuckled.

Tus rolled his eyes at the thought of that sort of trouble. Bis laughed openly at that thought.

"Yes," Tamina's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Please regal me with how your decision making process was made."

Tus took a wise step back with a slight bow. Bis and Garsiv tried to stifle their smiles.

"Right," she finally decided. "Back to the reasons why I brought you all here. You all wanted to know what nightmares plagued your brother. Prince Tus… place your hand now on the glass. It seems the Sandglass reacts better to touch."

Tus just nodded his head, he was too curious to find out more about this power to ask any further questions. With reverence, he stepped up and laid a hand on the red tinted glass and suddenly the sands inside started to churn more fiercely. Images of a time lost shifted to show glimpses of celebration between the crown prince and his younger brother, but it quickly changed to a clear image of Dastan holding the dagger to Tus' throat.

"If you are going to kill me, best you do it now." Tus heard his own voice speak with animosity.

Before anyone could respond to that, they watched Dastan remove the dagger from Tus's throat and plunged it into his own chest. Tamina had seen this image flash before, from the vantage place she had on the balcony, but it still pained her to see it yet again.

For Dastan's brothers, they had all mentally prepared themselves to see their own deaths, but none of them had been prepared for the first Persian death to be witnessed to belong to Dastan himself.

A few tears fell from Tus's wide eyes. "Dastan had to kill himself in order for me to believe him?" his jaw slacked as he watched him press the jewel and rewind his brother's suicide. Only to then watch their Uncle, without hesitation, slit Tus' throat before Dastan could stop him. The following scene of Tamina and Dastan killing an enemy and return to Tus's side was harder to bear than imagined. Tus felt cold watching his own blood seep from his neck and knew in that instant he'd never be the same for it.

Soon the Sand's images no longer made any sense as nothing was decipherable.

Tus covered his face. "So that's why…" he choked. His frustration against himself seemed unbearable. "Dastan had to kill himself in order for me to believe him!" he repeated. "Is it no wonder why he doesn't open up to me anymore."

Bis and Garsiv looked down as they felt that shame. All of them had been thinking Dastan had been going mad recently.

"There is more to be seen," Tamina reminded.

Bis took that queue, and moved past Tus to touch the glass himself. The Sands had only two strong images to share, and it was disheartening to all three men. For Dastan's scream that echoed in the caverns was a heartbreaking sound. It was a sound of pure pain straight from the heart and was a sound that they all could relate to. They watched as the King had been killed then the images jumped to Dastan trying to escape. As those few images played out, clearly the look on Bis's face showed his confusion. In a banquet hall amongst friends an attack was never imagined. Bis, within that single moment, had tried to fight for his friend's escape, but was ultimately cut down dead.

By now they were all in some form of shock or another. It was just too painful to watch, yet they couldn't tear their eyes away. The following image of Dastan returning to the streets having been victorious now played, yet they were still hung up on their father's death.

The images faded back to a pulsing orange and red as they all worked to catch their breaths.

Both blood brother's eyes were red having seen their father burned to death with poison. They loved their father and couldn't before imagine him dying.

Bis rubbed his eyes. "Dastan couldn't even mourn for us," he spoke although his throat was closing.

Tamina nodded. She worked to keep a level head amongst the strong emotions surrounding her. "Prince Dastan's sorrow began with two deaths right from the start."

Garsiv took a deep breath. If Bis had died so quickly, while Tus's death had to have been later because Dastan had been back at the palace for that, Garsiv was hesitant to see what his fate had been. The Sandglass seemed to take on new life to Garsiv, as it seemed to him that it was waiting for the last person to react to. Fear was not a common emotion for the warrior to face, yet here and now Garsiv felt filled with it. Slowly he reached towards the Sandglass and the moment the tip of his finger touched the rough glass, the caverns turned a deep dark red.

"Seize the murder!"

"After the murder!"

"Then god will pardon you, after your head rolls."

Pure rage rang with the echoing words that Garsiv spat out against Dastan, his younger brother. Each word cut straight through the warrior now watching it play out before him. It seemed that Garsiv had been the true enemy that Dastan had been running from, and it was clear that he had been out for blood.

Garsiv saw all that he wanted, yet the Sandglass was not done showing the altered past. He had corned Dastan in a cave, however as Dastan spoke unheard words, that Garsiv's expression softened. Still, everyone knew that just like Tus and Bis, Garsiv would soon meet his end. Sure enough, and with Dastan right there to witness it all, Garsiv was murdered by the same Hassansin that almost killed him just the other day.

The glow of the Sandglass finally faded back to its orange-red color and continued its never-ending pulse of swirling sands.


Back above within the Alamutain Palace, the staff was all in chatter about the young Persian prince, the man that was due to wed their only Princess, running wild through the palace halls shirtless and armed for attack. There had been rumors that perhaps the Prince was suffering from battle fatigue and might not be in his right mind.

To Dastan's frustration, he couldn't find anyone. He had run to Tus, Garsiv, Bis and even Tamina's bed chambers but found no one. He had checked the baths, the throne room, and council room. Any passing guards he had spoken to, asked for the whereabouts on his brothers and Tamina, either didn't know or failed to answer him fast enough as Dastan bolted down the next corridor.

With a ragged breath, Dastan halted for a moment in the gardens as he thought. The morning sun was now out.

"That must be it!" he spoke to himself as he took off again, this time, to the banquet hall and then on to the less formal dining hall. Perhaps they were all breaking the fast and were eating now.

He arrived at one of the smaller banquet rooms to find it all set up for the morning meal. There stood a few high palace officials clearly waiting for the arrival of their princess before the breaking of the bread. Dastan looked around and did not see the people he was in search for, and that added to his stress. Tus was always the first at the table, for he, like their father, was strict in Morning Prayer. More so, what he knew of his bride-to-be, Tamina was not the type of person to be late and keep others waiting. So where in the blazes could they be?

"The High Temple!" Dastan now thought. Turing quickly, Dastan knocked over a servant with a jug of wine as he fled from the room en route to the staircases.

To his annoyance, Dastan's speed began to slow. Pain now filled each step as his healing injuries began to make themselves known. His initial adrenalin dump, which had masked the pain of his wounds, was now fading away as it was taking too long to search such a large area.

With each step he took up the High Temple stairs, his ankle throbbed and a curse escaped with each labored breath. He had long switched hands, as the swords became heavy in his wounded arm and he knew he needed to save his strength whenever he found the hidden traitor.

And as much pain Dastan was in, he would not stop. He had to keep everyone safe. He was their only chance.


Far off in another part of the palace tucked away in a small servant corridor, five men gathered in the shadows, eyes darting around them making sure they were alone. Four of them were clothed with the standard palace servant attire, while the fifth had embroidered ribbons signifying the mark of a guardian. Yet, even though their clothes were white and pure, a hidden darkness seeped through the linen.

"Something is amiss," the guardian whispered.

A mock laugh quietly echoed around them. "Are you talking about the sudden death of Nizam? Or the destruction of the Hassansins?" the second man asked sardonically.

The others found no amusement.

"The Princess took the two blood sons of the Persian King and the man servant of the third to the High Temple," the guardian clarified.

"But she's guided them away from there without incident," the third man informed.

"Yes, but they seemed to be heading below the main palace floors towards the lower levels," the guardian added.

"Do you think she is telling them about the dagger?" the fourth man asked.

"From the temple to below the palace, is there any other options?" the fifth concluded.

A guard making his rounds put a halt to the secret conversation as the servants bid the guard a good morning. When they knew they were once again alone, they start the conversation again.

"If they knew about Nizam and the Hassansins, there could be a good chance our identities have be revealed," the fourth man now reasoned.

"What are you suggesting?" the third asked.

"We go and discover the unfortunate fall of our beloved Princess and the Persian men," the guardian decided.

"Is that wise?" asked the third.

"It is their deaths, or ours."


Dastan finally arrived to the highest most level of the palace temple and slid to a halt when he reached the sacred doors. "Where are they?" he immediately demanded when he saw the head guard standing in front of the doors. Asoka shouldn't normally be standing such a lowly watch as guard duty.

"Where are-" Dastan then ran out of air as he doubled over, hands on his knees, gasping for breath.

Asoka was completely taken off guard by the state in which the youngest Persian prince was in. He had been left to guard the dagger for the remainder of the morning just in case the Persian's tried to return to steal it, but he never imagined Dastan would show up. Dastan had been recovering from many severe wounds, harsh travel, poor sleep, along with little nourishment; yet here he was, out of bed, out of breath, and full of alarm.

He finally stood tall again and tried to swallow although his throat was parched.

"Where are they?" he now commanded again.

"Princess Tamina and your Brothers are not here," Asoka said with indifference in his appearance, but was in great alarm.

That was not the answer Dastan wanted, and he was through playing games. "Are you a Guardian?" Dastan quickly demanded.

Now Asoka could not hide the shock from that question, "I don't…" he stumbled.

"Now look," Dastan sighed deeply but that did not slow down his words, "I know everything. Tamina knows that I know everything and if you truly understand what I mean when I say that I know everything, you must tell me where they are right now!"

"They were here at dawn, but left an hour ago." Asoka informed without hesitation. He had a feeling that this Dastan had been different from most men and might already know something. For what other reasons could Tamina bring his brothers up to the Holy Temple?

"Where did-"

"The Princess took your brothers and your man servant Bis, down below the palace."

"To the Sandglass?" Dastan exclaimed with shocked confusion. He shook his head as to keep his mind on the immediate threat. "Did they take any weapons with them?"

"Prince Garsiv was the only one with a sword, my Lord," he said now truly worried.

"Asoka, it is vital that you get weapons for them and take it to them immediately, there is possibly a great threat within your palace. Hurry," Dastan urged Asoka to get moving. "I will meet you there."

"Do you know-"

"Yes, I have been down there before."

Asoka did as commanded, knowing that there were other guards inside the treasure room remaining who could protect the dagger in his absent.

Dastan watched as Asoka hurried down the stairs. He briefly turned and faced the panoramic view of the city below and took in a deep breath. Such beauty. Dastan prayed silently to the gods that today would be the final day to rid the remnants of his Uncle's villainous plot form the world. He could only pray Tamina and his brothers were still safe. Dastan left the view of the city behind. He had to hurry. He still had countless stairs left to descend and only one thing on his mind.

"This time I am not letting you go."


Back at the Sandglass far below the main palace halls, Garsiv was having a hard time accepting his other-self's actions.

"Damn," Garsiv muttered. "Dastan is right now recovering from wounds I SHOULD HAVE RECEIVED. And THIS! THIS IS HOW I WOULD HAVE REACTED?" Garsiv began pacing. His frustration could be easily felt. "He is my little brother and I would protect him at any cost, yet with such feeble evidence I instantly condemn him! I WOULD BE DEAD RIGHT NOW… TWICE DEAD, IF IT WEREN'T FOR HIM!"

"I thought he was a murderer as well," Tus softly reminded, although to say those words out loud tasted far bitter than anything he had ever before tasted.

Tamina knew a mired of strong emotions were pressed up against the surface of them all, however she needed them to focus not on just themselves, but back on Dastan. Although she was unsure if she'd get the result she wanted, she reached up and touched the glass again.

All eyes darted up towards the glass as Nizam's brutal actions flung Tamina into the abyss only to be caught by Dastan. They hadn't seen any of this before and had only witnessed the immediate fall, but now they stood transfixed upon Dastan's face.

"It's not my destiny, but yours."

They watched Tamina say.

"It always has been…. Let me go."

"I'M NOT LETTING YOU GO!" Dastan shouted.

Tus brought a hand to his face. Dastan's three adoptive brothers stood in wide eyed shock at the pain in their brother's voice.

"I wished we could have been together."

They then watched as this first assumingly delicate spiritual princess, bravely wrench her hand from Dastan's to fall to her assured death. Such sacrifice caused the Persian's to find new respect in this princess, but they couldn't wrap their minds around the pain their brother had faced at losing her.

"TAMINA! NO!" Dastan screamed.

The Sands surged once more, clearing the images, and returning back to flowing sands.

Although they were all harden men, after the stresses of the past weeks, tears fell from their eyes. Dear Dastan.

So much death and personal loss…

Countless forms of pain felt and inflicted…

Living with secrets…

Trying to save lives yet not be trusted…

It was impossible to take it all in.

Bis was the first to manage to speak. "He lost everything," he painfully shook his head. "He not only lost us all, the King, you two, and myself… but he couldn't even save you with his own hands. That sort of thing would eat away at Dastan."

Tus wiped his eyes. "Is it no wonder how much he fears for our lives. He feels he is powerless to save us when danger strikes."

Tamina then realized she had been biting her lip to keep it from trembling. It was not an easy thing to see. The sounds, images, and feelings were so strong in this sacred place.

Garsiv just stared blankly up. "I don't ever think I will forget that look on his face."

They all nodded to that. Such raw emotion displayed wasn't something one sees every day.

Tus took a deep ragged breath. "It's hard not reliving every past encounter I've had with him from the moment I stepped foot onto the steps of your palace, to now… I see it all differently now, but I'm sure my mind will be resting on nothing else but that for the foreseeable future. However, for now…" Tus then turned his sights to the woman who had offered them her sacred trust. "Thank you," he said as he kneeled before her and bowed his head.

Garsiv and Bis were quick to follow. "Thank you, Princess Tamina," they said in near unison.

Their sincerity momentarily shocked Tamina. How many years of her life did she grow up believing Persians, and other such nations, couldn't be as civilized as her people? She knew then in that moment she'd never look down on others like that again.

Prince Tus didn't wait for a reply as he stood back up to be face to face with Tamina.

"I really do thank you," he said again as Garsiv and Bis now stood as well. "We never would have guessed that our little brother had to endure so much if it hadn't been for you."

"Yes," Bis agreed. "Now we can truly be a help to him now."

"But," Garsiv cleared his voice from lingering emotion, "but how will this help Dastan? How can we undo what we have done to him?" he widely gestured.

Tus put a reassuring hand on his brother's tense shoulder. "We can only give him our support, our understanding, yet remind him that even though we might have reacted the way we saw this morning, that every situation is different."

"One tiny moment can change a person's view," Tamina added.

"He should be more open to us when we explain to him that we understand," Bis hoped.

Yet they all had that little voice in their head that said it would not be that easy. It was clear, more to Garsiv and Tus, that their past words scared their brother more than their deaths. They would not say it out loud, but they envied Bis. For their brother's best friend gave up his life to protect Dastan, while they had sought his end.