Note from the author: I am really sorry to anyone who read my story and then heard nothing back. I'm in this International Baccalaureate program and it is quite simply giving me hell. So I apologize for my outright dirty timing in publishing a new chapter.
However I have been having so many trouble that it is causing rage that I hope to channel into this fic. So with begging and crawling to your feet I begin the chapter.
New Beginnings
The mutterings of the guards a world and a half away could not wrestle the prince from his dreams. However, the prince always had a "gift" for being awake when he needed to be. So when the door at the top of the stairs leading to the world above opened allowing unprecedented light in; the prince was up and alert. It took the eyes of the prince a few moments to adjust to the light before he could make out any details of the figure standing at the top of the stairs. However as his vision cleared the figure began to strut down the steps. At that moment the prince was intrigued not because of what he saw, but because of what he heard. Or should it be said; what he didn't hear. The man who made his way down the stairs was obviously heavily armored however his armor was of such superior type that it did not cause any noise as the joints of armor moved against each other. Instead of the usual clanging like waves on a rocky shore, the noise was seamless as if it were silk instead of metal. As the edges of the figure came into focus so did the story etched into the metal of the armor with stunning detail. Telling a story in the engraving worthy of passing down onto further generations.
"So… what brings you to India" The prince had been taken out of his cell and placed in a chair with two armed guards to either side ready to exact justice for their fallen comrades…
in the form of their swords removing the prince of his head.
"Well I have heard about the beauty of your country during the summer", he could play the game as well as anyone, "However, I have to say that the hospitality is hardly up to par"
"You'll excuse my charges for their roughness." , as a smirk escaped his calm and controlled lips, "they are strangers to death and strife and don't really know how to deal with death"
"So what makes you so calm," this man was obviously no older than the prince; much too young to have experienced any of the hardships of war. However the prince thought 'my own soul has been thrown onto the ground to dry like so much meat, what is there to say he does not know what it is like to die and yet live', "surely you are no more experienced with death than this brute over here" as he motioned with his head to the guard on his right.
The prince was tired of this banter it was time to do something of value.
In one swift movement the prince stood up and kicked the chair into the groin of the guard on his right. The guard on his left brought up his sword to cleave the prince in two. However the prince was ready and as the blow came down he somersaulted up and back and at the same time his arms like a giant hoop fell over the sword as it made its way down. Then as the blow came down the prince was already on the brutes back as his hands were set free. It was their own fault for using iron with obvious signs of rust and brittleness. When his hands were free the prince let out a sigh of relief as he snapped the neck of the brute he stood upon and as the last breath sighed out of the brute. Still before returning to earth the prince cart wheeled in air over onto the back of the other guard. The prince the proceeded to snap his neck as well, keeping up the momentum the prince rolled onto the floor taking the guards sword from the limp grasp of the hand attached to the still falling body and rushed forward.
But before he removed that arrogant man of his head.
He stopped.
As he held the oversized sword to the throat of the man the prince said, "so... am I going to see the princess or aren't I".
"Unfortunately there is a problem with your threat." He paused and the prince followed the outline of his arm and saw a blade not an inch from the prince's defenseless belly.
As the prince backed away the man continued, "you're already dead" The prince was dumbfounded… there had been no sign of retaliation in fact the man had looked terrified, but now he just looked smug.
"I know your story so stop acting like you are the only one in the world with the truth." As more guards rushed in to subdue him the prince could look harder into the armor of this strange warrior.
As he quickly glanced from one image to the next the prince realized that these images were not of this man. The armor was so well crafted that the images seemed to move; maybe they were moving… the prince couldn't tell. Still he knew that the lone figure surrounded by creatures with maces and axes was him. He saw pictograms of him in the maharajah's burning palace, of him unleashing the sands, of his fight with his father, or rather his sand creature. The prince recognized these scenes and still others were obviously yet to come.
"sand is a very deceptive thing my prince"
note: I know it's kind of evil of me to end it like that. Still aren't you intrigued. I hope that helps make up for my long absence. Please review. Oooo and if anyone can give me a good place to get names or an actual list that would be great because I am the absolute worst and picking names for my characters. Thanks for looking in on my fic and no promises but I hope to keep them coming.
