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.
V.
It is said that true happiness only belongs to a fool.
I look to the sky and sea. The azure and cerulean, they are a grandeur beyond anything I know. I see the blue from above and below envelope me and I feel at peace.
Am I a fool then?
We have been out at sea for about a fortnight and the mouth of the ocean approaches soon. We are but a small ship -- a speckle in the grandness of the waters of this world. I listen to the waters sway in their waltz, I feel the fingers of the wind upon my face, and I know it is here that I find my calm.
And so would he. Or so I thought.
He lives off world, his highness does. I watched him as we left land: At first, he seemed content at sea. But he thinks not like you or me. Something within his mind is at unrest; something within him is running without aim. So the mood passed through him like fickle rain, and he began to wander on the seams of his ship without purpose. I wonder what it is my master sees, how disillusioned his eyes have become and how exceptional his perception may be. Then, finally, like the setting of a sun, he retreated into the darkness -- he has been in his chambers for most of the journey.
Daybreak passes. The sunlight reaches my eyes and my mind filters what I see in its usual way. I hear the restlessness of the crew and I know that they are weary for their master. We have no choice but to wait patiently for our next command. My only sorrow is that I cannot attend to my master while he is confined within his chambers. I wonder how he fares. I imagine it to be quiet in his chamber. I hope it is the kind of quietness that would lull him to a dreamless sleep.
But it is not, for he comes up to deck.
He walks like a child who has just awakened from a shadowy dream: Awkwardly, slowly, and unsure of each step he takes. Like a hollow shell, his bare feet make no sound as he sets out for the railing and gazes out into the horizon. His once proud, straight back is bent, his bygone chestnut hair, now black, wavering like cracked, dry leaves in the wind. He is a lone figure from my view, still and lifeless -- this once regal Prince of Persia, a man who dwelt in marble halls, breathed in stiles of saffron, and dreamt of honour and glory.
A hollowed body. A broken spirit. From what were you defending yourself from? What sorrow has befallen you?
I brave myself and move closer. I see he is in deep concentration, but somehow it is...erratic. The expression on his face is one of forlorness.
"My lord," I attend to him, "is ev-"
"Shhhhh..." He hushes me. "Can you hear it, Mehrvand?"
I listen.
I hear nothing but the lapping of the waves.
"The ebbing of the sea is speaking," he states, faintly.
I wonder what it is he hears them saying, yet I dare not ask; I play the fool. I look into my master's eyes, which are now rimmed in a shadow. They are dark and carry no reflection of their own. And unlike the sea, I hear them speak. They weave a tale of sorrow...a sorrow that was once a love.
At this revelation, I feel myself become tangible to the world I thought I knew and it is spinning faster than I ever realised it to.
-The sky breaks. A sudden drop of water touches my arm. I look up above and see all is grey: A storm comes this way.
"We are at the mouth of the ocean, my lord," one of the crew announces.
-The air begins to whisper. Its breath sends everything in one direction: A southwest wind blows.
"Tell them to stop here and abandon ship, Mehrvand. Take the tenders and go."
-The water quickly begins to fall densely. The light starts to dim.
"But my lord…"
"Tell them now, Mehrvand."
The sky is changing…
The world is turning…
And I find I must catch up with it.
I watch my master's ship decrease in size as we row away in our tenders. I reflect on the Prince I used to know. I wonder how he fares. And I imagine what will become of him and I realise I do not wish to know...
Let me be but a fool.
And let all be as it may.
V.
Come What May copyright © 2004 by Elfin Empress & HystericFreak
This story, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
