And...we're back! Congratulations to bellathedisenchanted for being the 100th reviewer! In case you guys haven't read it yet, I did a little one-shot for Dastan and Tamina called "Thanks to the Apple". Please read and review that one too. There are also some honorable mentions here, people who consistently reviewed on almost every chapter, or every one. They are Transitions End, leoshunny1985, and GottaLoveMEgan. Anf of course, bellathedisenchanted. Thank you all so much for your undying support in all of this. Very great. :)
So here is the next chapter, and people don't be disheartened if you didn't get. I am going to do this for every 100 reviews, so you guys have a chance. :)
Here we are!
Tamina close her eyes, waiting for the kiss to come. She would hold back her hand for that moment, and then she would be able to die happy. Though siddenly, pain erupted in her wrist, twisting it in a position that was not natural. She screamed in pain and fell backward, hitting her head on a rock behind her.
Dastan watched her fall, her eyes closed shut. "Tamina!" he screamed, though he knew that there was no time to bend over and take care of her. Something had grabbed her wrist. He looked around him wildly, and from out of no where, a long whip vaporized, the end covered in spikes and and arrowhead graced the end. The prince jumped back, the arrowhead pausing for a brief moment in time pointing right at his nose.
The Hassansin on the other end pulled it back, allowing Dastan to climb back up and out of the water hole. He automatically began fighting with the heavily cloaked man, unaware of a viper sliming over Tamina. Though the snake had other thoughts on his mind. True, it could kill the girl, but it slithered off of her wrist, straight to the jeweled dagger that had fell out of her grasp during her own fall.
Dastan stood on a rock, twenty feet away from the Hassansin who continuing swirling around the whip, giving the prince only seconds to swing his sword to push away the whip when it came too close. Whenever he did, he could feel pain tearing at his shoulder, but now, he did not pay any heed to it. The Hassansin used one of the whips, (Dastan found out quickly that he indeed did have two) the ending of this particular one sculpted like a hand, and latched it onto the rock wall, using it to send him flying towards Dastan. While soaring through the air, the Hassansin used the other whip, though Dastan manuevered around it deftly, jumping off of his rock to another, while twirling his body through the air. The Hassansin continued moving, never giving Dastan a moment to breath, continuing to lash out with his whips, the clawed one finally making contact with Dastan, catching his foot and sending the prince toppling over behind one of the rocks. His back hit hard against a rock, and without stopping, Dastan swung his blade, meeting the whip once more. As soon as it made contact, he ran, the Hassansin chasing after him like it was some sort of game that the two were playing.
The Persian ran out of the cave turning right, hitting away the whip yet another time, and ran to the left now as the Hassansin came out. Dastan stood on the rock for only a brief moment before jumping backwards and spinning in the air with a grunt on his lips. He hit the whip again and jumped sideways, his body parallel to the ground for a quick moment and he spun hismelf through the air. The Hassansin jumped down on the same rock once he was done with his landing, Dastan already running away. He knew that there was no possibility that he was going to win against this man. His body ached and was tired, and he knew that he didn't have much hope.
However, below him stood the head one, looking down on the rest of the battle, Dastan's men dying at the hands of Nizam's slaves. "Out! Enough! Out!" he heard the head one chastise, and almost immediately, they began to disperse, running back the way they came, though not without finishing off the current man they were fighting with first.
Dastan had a chance. It was a small one, but he had a chance. He swung his blade at the Hassansin, who now had gotten close enough to fight with swords, though the enemy easily avoided the strike as if it was nothing at all. The enemy jutted out his own sword, and Dastan was quick to grab the man's wrist; he hit the wrist hard enough to hear a pop and the sword fell to the ground. The Hassansin bellowed, though he used his other arm to swing out at Dastan, effectively catching the prince by the legs, knocking them right out from underneath him, making Dastan fall off of a little cliff down and onto his back. The Hassansin jumped down at his, his arms reaching out like wings and his legs bent like a lion ready to pounce on its prey.
Though in one quick move, a double-headed spear came out of nowhere, standing straight up, waiting for the impact. The gut of the Hassansin was skewered on the spear, drips of blood splattering down on Dastan's alarmed face. He watched the man above him grimace in pain, then be dropped to side, the spear remaining lodged in his stomach. He was dead.
Behind him, he heard a scream of pain, and Dastan turned around quick, seeing his brother panting in shallow breath, one hand lingering on the pole of the spear for a moment before falling to his side. Dastan crawled fast to his brother, calling out his name in surprise. He thought his brother was already gone. But no, his brother had saved his life! "Garsiv!" he called weakly, already hurting by the fact that his brother was going to be taken away from him.
Blood dripped out of his brother's mouth as he continued to fight for the air that seemed to be avoiding his lungs. "Dastan, I'm sorry," he said in a rugged breath. The middle prince of Persia looked up at his brother, holding onto the last seconds with all of his might, though the young man knew that he was fading. "Save the empire!" he croaked, before he gave one final cough, his eyes growing cold and losing their shine.
"Brother," Dastan called, not wanting it be true. "Brother," he said once more, his heart sinking in pain. He had lost his brother. The one he used to tease, the one he would fight with. But Garsiv had always been there for him, always defending him soundly whenever Dastan was mistreated as a boy for not being of royal blood. He loved his brother. And now he was gone. Forever. And it was all because of Nizam.
Behind him, he heard a soft thud, and he turned around quickly, only to see Tamina standing there, her eyes watery and her eyes flashing with worry. She didn't look at him or Garsiv. He stood and walked to her, though she still did not look at him.
"Where is the dagger?" he asked, searching her hands and belt for it, though his search was fruitless. They had only stopped the attack because they already had what they were looking for. They had the dagger.
"It's gone," she said in a hoarse voice, as if she still couldn't believe that everything that was happening was happening. "'Protect the dagger, no matter the consequences.' That was my sacred calling. That was my destiny," she said quietly as Dastan moved to stand in front of her, looking down at the ground dejected. He looked back up at her, meeting her eyes.
He was still panting slightly as he said, "We make our own destiny, Princess." He looked calmly at her, though calm was not what he felt at all. "We'll get it back," he continued simply.
"How?" she asked timidly. He reached up and cupped her face with his hands, dropping his sword to the ground.
"We just will. You have to trust me, Tamina. Do you?" he asked carefully.
Tamina nodded without hesitation, already knowing that she would trust her life if she was at his side. "Then we will," he said softly. He tore his hands away from her face and looked back at his brother. "I have to bury him first. He is my brother," he choked out after a moment. Tamina looked back on the fallen man.
"The gods will shelter him, Dastan. He is not alone in death. No one is," she told him comfortingly, resting a light hand on his shoulder. He walked away from her and crouched down to his brother once more.
He pulled the helmet off of his brother and brushed his hand over the prince eyes, closing them so that he could look at the gods' realm with full clarity. Gently, he bent over and kissed the forehead of his brother. He stood then, once more, and began gathering stones, piling them regretfully on top of his older brother. He never thought that he would have to bury Garsiv. The man who appeared to seem to live forever in battle. Dastan never thought that this would be happening. He wished it wasn't.
His hand dropped the last bit of sand on his brother grave, and then he rested his brother's empty helmet on the tomb. "Good bye, Brother," he murmured. He rose to his feet and looked at the resting place once more. Behind him, he heard Amar chuckling in giddiness. Dastan gritted his teeth. There was nothing to even smile about, let alone be giddy.
"We're gonna need another horse," Amar said happily.
Seso came up to him, though Dastan still did not look at him. "Where will you go?" the knife thrower asked, coming to his side.
The prince sighed. "To Alamut," he said gravely. Amar turned and looked at him, and everyone went silent. Dastan looked around him at the people there. "Nizam will use that dagger to pierce the Sandglass, and he has to be stopped." He walked ahead of them, glaring at the drit below his feet when he heard Amar mocking him.
"'And he has to be stopped. He has to be stopped.' That's good," he laughed. Seso came and walked in front of the Sheikh, not saying anything, just looking at him as if pleading with him. "What? Oh...A knife thrower with a conscience," he said aggravated, though he knew that he was going to have to go with the Persian. If it was something that was a life or death situation for all of mankind, then he needed to be a part of it. It would be a great story for the world to remember him by.
They travelled through the desert, rarely ever stopping, just because they knew that if they did, they were wasting time they did not have to begin with.
By the end of day, they had arrived back in Alamut, and Tamina immediately went to talk with the other women of the palace while Dastan, Amar, and Seso waiting outside.
"You got a pretty one, Persian," Amar said slowly, stroking his chin as he watched Tamina run inside.
Dastan looked at Amar, not exactly sure how to respond to something like that. "You don't know her," he said after a moment. "She can be hell."
Amar shrugged. "Just remember, Persian that the man is the head of the house, not the woman. You're the one with the sword, you should be in charge," he jabbed Dastan in the chest. "Don't let a little woman tell you what to do. You be your own self, and if she doesn't like it, that's too damn bad." He spit at the ground.
The prince shook his head. "Tamina's not like that."
Even Seso snorted. "Persian, she knows that you love her, and a woman like her can do whatever she wants with that kind of knowledge."
Dastan shrugged. "Like I said, you don't know her." Even if she was going to be like that, and he knew that she wouldn't, he would still love her. She was the one for him, no matter what Amar and Seso thought.
"Whatever you say."
Tamina then came out of the palace, a look of determination settled on her face and a group of women following her. "Our friends in the palace say the Persians have broken through to the first level of the tunnels. They will reach toeh Sandglass within hours. Nizam's keeping the dagger in teh High Temple, guarded by some sort of demon, covered in spikes."
Dastan looked at her. "The Hassansin that killed my brother," he said painfully. That Hassansin wasn't a man. It was a monster who didn't even deserve to be called part of the human race.
Tamina smiled softly. "It's the only thing that stands between us and the dagger. No man can stand withing 20 yards of him and live," she said. Tamina felt like it was over. There was no longer any reason to fight. She knew that Dastan had promised her that they would get the dagger back, but she was doubtful now. Was there no hope?
"Some don't need to get that close," Seso said carefully, looking up at the High Temple in contempt. He glanced back down at Tamina who was looking rather proud now. She turned and walked away, Amar and Seso following after her and Dastan bringing up the lead.
Dastan nodded in resolution as they started to execute their plan. "Go Amar."
Amar walked into a little alclove of shade, lords surrounding him and drinking the water gaily. Seso followed in after him and bowed his head. Amar bent his head over in a bow, pretending to be poor. "Space some water, sire?" he asked in a hoarse voice as if he had not had anything to drink in days.
The man before him spewed a little fountain of water from his mouth, mocking the supposed slave while his friends laughed at the little jest. Amar and Seso both raised their arms, holding shovels. They each smacked two men on the head, knocking them out effectively. Dastan and Tamina walked in after them, Dastan grasping Amar's shoulders in a means of thanks while Tamina ran to the doorway to investigate the area. For good measure, Amar hit the man on the head again, just because he wasn't nice or so to speak. Dastan walked outside of the little alclove, making sure that no one had seen what just happened there.
Amar came up to Seso, consulting him about what they were doing. "You sure about this?" he whispered, having asked the question at least a dozen times by this point. Seso turned around and looked at Dastan for a brief moment. "I owe the boy," he said simply.
"What?" came Amar's reply, surprised and angry. "You're a Ngbaka!" he exclaimed. "Scourge of the Numidian plain. Me? I'm a slightly dishonorable entrepreneur. This nobility business is not the cloth we're cut from!" he said.
"Hurry!" Tamina whispered to Seso.
Seso grabbed Amar's shoulder and looked him in the eye. "My friend, has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?"
Amar nodded his head. "Uh-huh." Seso smiled at him and patted his friend's arm. He walked to Tamina and went inside the palace, his mind already set on where he needed to go. The big black door closed behind him and Tamina walked away and up to Amar who whispered quickly, "Come on."
Seso walked through the halls of the palace, turning every way Tamina had told him to. Finally he came to two large doors, and he pushed them open, the gold from inside the room already sparkling with the effect. Standing in the doorway, Seso pulled two little knives from his belt, turning his head to and fro, searching everywhere for the Hassansin. He knew that the enemy would be hiding, he himself would be too, and he knew that the Hassansin was going to use the element of surprise. He took several deep breaths, calming his heart and mind, officially ready to begin the battle. Before him, he saw the alter, the dagger, perched in its sacred holder, the sun from above beating down on its metal blade. The pillars around were round and ornate, carved in shapes so beautiful; the steps were marble and rounded and the windows beyond wide and tall, taking up the entire wall. Though the view there was amazing, Seso knew that he had not come there to enjoy the scenery; he needed to get the dagger. That was his mission.
His eyes widened in alarm, bending his body backwards to avoid little knives being short at him. None of them even brushed against his flesh. Quickly though, he sat down behind a pillar, his breathing faster now. He heard the Hassansin behind him make another sound, dislodging another weapon, though he quickly heard it hit a wall in defeat.
The Hassansin jumped out of nowhere, making a hiss and shooting more little knives in his direction, though Seso was quick. He threw both knives in succession and dodged to go behind another pillar while his opponent copied his decision. Little knives dug into the wall in front of him, making a line and kicking up a little dust. Seso frowned and took more deep breaths. He came out from behind the pillar and smacked away several more knives being shot at him with a knife of his own, wile throwing it at him afterwards. He watched as it lodged itself into a pillar behind the Hassansin. The opponent reached behind himself and pulled out knives fast, throwing them all at him with deadly accuracy. Seso grunted in pain when he felt on of the little ones collide with his shoulder, but watched as the man hid behind another pillar. Seso went behind one of his own and looked down aat the knife. He reached up and twisted it out of his shoulder, blood tainting the yellow fabric and the poison already beginning to merge into his blood. He threw the knife away, knowing that one little knife wasn't going to be enough to kill him.
The Hassansin stood behind his pillar, the thought of this new challenge quite exciting. Never before had he met one of not his kind who was as talented as he with a knife. Knives were his specialty; that's why he was put in that position; they knew that he would be able to deliver, no matter who was going to be coming through those doors. Being a knife thrower was more beneficial to Nizam than a swordsman. Snives could fly while swords could not.
He pulled out another one of his little knives, staring at its blade. One alone seemed almost harmless, though it was drenched in poison and many of them piercing the skin was painful. His ripped open face knew that better than most. The cut had been so terrifying that even when it healed, it still rendered many people frightened. Silver, pudgy skin exploded from his dark face to heal the that cut, it being put there for a reason. It was terrible to look at, which made the man smile maliciously. He licked the blade, tasting the faint poison on its tip. It wouldn't do anything unless it was projected into the blood stream. He loaded the knife into his arm catapult and waited. He came out from behind his pillar quickly, shooting his right arm's load, then his left's, hoping for a hit. The man needed to die, and he was going to be the one to deliver his death. Even if it meant his own death, he would not fail his leader. He dodged behind his pillar and then looked up when he hear d the sound of metal clanking against metal. He saw a four bladed spiral hurtling towards him though he ducked down, the blades only cutting away some of the knives on his back.
Seso grunted in anger. He was losing strength, and the poison was only getting stronger. He didn't have much time. He threw another knife at him and another, though both failed to meet thier ideal target. He jumped behind a pillar. Somehow he knew, now was his time. He was not going to see Amar or Dastan or Tamina again. He would get them the dagger, but he knew that he was not going to be blessed enough to carry it to them. He would die here. But he would die proudly. And he would not fail. He pulled one last knife outof his belt, a thin rounded one and held it against his chest. He took one last deep breath and looked at the dagger. He was so close! Then, making his decision, he made his way out from behind his pillar, the Hassansin already there and waiting for him. The Hassansin shot more little knives out of his arm contraption, and Seso threw his last knife, making a run to the dagger.
His thrown knife went through all of the little ones thrown at him and pierced deep into the evil flesh of his rival, catching that man by surprise. He looked down at the knife in chest, the blade going deep into his heart. He looked back up at Seso and fell backwards, dead.
Seso ran to the alter and managed inside. He smiled at his victory, knowing that he had succeeded. Amar would be so proud of him right now. But he would not see Amar. He grimaced painfully and looked down at his chest, now covered in the little knives. The additional poison driving deep in his body, staright into the blood being pumped from his heart. He dropped to his knees and grabbed the knife by the blade, already hearing people charging into the room after him, to kill him. They would not need to.
He grabbed onto the door of the alter and pulled himself to his feet. He looked out at one of the windows. He held the knife high above his head, though his body faltered many time in pain, making his arm drop a little lower. Seso grunted one last time and threw himself backwards, throwing the knife out of his hand and outside of the palace. The Ngbaka was gone.
The knife soared through the air, twisting and flipping over and over and over again, finally lodging itself into a tree. Around the tree stood three people, two men and a woman. Amar, Dastan, and Tamina. They all looked at the knife, knowing now that the good man they had all found a friend in, was no longer a member of the living race. He had given his life to save all of the world's, which was the noblest sacrifice of all.
"Have I told you of the Ngbaka?" Amar asked, pained. He tore the knife out of the tree, studying it. His best friend was gone.
Tamina and Dastan glanced at one another, both not knowing exactly how to comfort the Sheikh. "Yes you have," Dastan said softly.
"I hope your brother listens to you, Persian," Amar's voice croaked. He handed Dastan the knife, eager to be rid of the thing that had ruined his life entirely.
Then the two were off, both knowing what they needed to do, leaving Amar to finish with the plan.
Okay, so there it is. This scene wasn't really all that fanfic'd just because there were a whole bunch of fight scenes and not a whole lot of Dastan and Tamina scenes to really manipulate. But I still hope that you all liked it. I found it kinda fun. :)
I aplogize for the grammatical errors, hopefully there won't be a ton. :)
So, read Thanks to an Apple, it's pretty good, and review that one, and review this one too, please. That would make me very very happy. Also, I need to know what you guys want me to do with this story once it's done with the movie part. Should I continue or cut it off here or what? Please tell me soon. We are coming to an end of the movie. :( But then, if I were to continue, it would really be all fanfiction sooo...yeah.
Love you all lots!
- Books