Disclaimer: The characters, objects, and places that pertain to The Prince of Persia belong to Jordan Mechner and Ubisoft. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
III.
The scent of fear swathes low, draping heavily like a spider's nest. I should smell it...breathe it. It should sustain me, a dark rapture I pray not confess on. It stirs pass the shrubs, whispering to their leaves. I should hear their secrets. For I am the hunter.
I feel the rush of wind on my face and know it ought to be revitalising. I give my mare a kick and let my trousers billow through speeded space. The thrill of the chase should have caught my blood and I would want to let it bleed. Nothing should stop me. For I am the pursuer.
Stealth shrouds me in an opaque facade and perseverance cloaks me in acuity. I signal to Ardavan and he moves to the left. Then, I gesture to Shidoush for him to stay where he is. We are close now. Seconds pass and there is nothing but silence and cold blood. But I continue to wait. For am I am the tracker.
Then, like a sudden crackle of thunder in a clear sky, the creature decides to forsake its sanctuary and flee.
"Hurry!" I spew, "This way!"
My brothers follow my lead and block its path. We close in on it, like walls of a tomb. Then, when it is out in the clearing, exposed and vulnerable, I nock my arrow...It should cut through the distance like the fabled rug of Prince Ahmed...I should have it carried back to the palace as a prize...
"Brother, are we just going to sit on our hinds all day or are you going to loose your arrow on the fox?" Ardavan interposes my contemplations.
My gaze on the target becomes imperceptible. Like an artist who has lost his creative eye, the magic disperses and the painting becomes a blank canvas. I lower my bow and say not a word, for they already know what has come to pass.
It should all have been so easy.
For I am the hunter.
There is a drop of water upon my skin. Then another. And yet another. Their coolness stirs my insides. They are slightly too large to be tears; she must have been at the pool just now. There is sudden warmth in the air and light plays on my closed eyelids: It is morning in the Sultan's harem. I feel her stroke my hair and I lie completely still, the marble floor cool beneath my skin, my head warm in her lap.
She is as gentle as first fallen snow and as strong as tempered steel. My warrior...my princess. We have come a long way together and I mean not to lose her. As I lie on her lap and feel her feathered strokes upon my head, I dare not open my eyes and look upon her. Like the worry of an audience that the spell will be broken if they look at the magician, they avert their eyes -- I close mine.
But then, my princess speaks...
"Don't leave me...my love...please don't leave me..."
With that, my eyes flicker open.
And the spell is broken.
For nights I have played these sequences through my mind. For days I have been lost in my thoughts. Never living or dying, but always longing. I long for there to be a silence...a calm I can call my own. I know at the present that I must search for it and that my journey should begin now.
"Ready my crew, Mehrvand. I shall sail from Abadan tomorrow."
"Yes, my lord."
"Are you sure you want to do this, dear brother?" Shidoush enquires, his voice enfolded with affection I could no longer touch. I look into his dark eyes, seeking for recognition, but it is not there. I place my hands onto his shoulders. How could I make him understand how hollow I have become? How would he see the emptiness inside me?
"It is something I must do," I tell him simply.
"Why are you sailing?" Ardavan exclaims, frustration heavy in his tone.
I look at my two brothers standing so still and I begin to yearn to preserve this moment I have with them. But then, I recall our morning in the game garden and I realise it is no longer my game. I know I must go. The sea is churning now. Its waves beckon for me. And I will be searching. This will be my game. And so it all becomes clear to me. I turn to Ardavan with a resolute look in my eyes.
"I will be hunting."
III.
Come What May copyright © 2004 by Elfin Empress & HystericFreak
This story, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
