Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Prince of Persia. They all belong to Ubisoft.

I've changed the time span between Sands of Time and Warrior Within to three years.

Only Time Knows

Prologue

A year before Warrior Within

The hall was packed with family and friends. Even outside, the citizens of India crowed around the entrance to the palace, each wanting to get closer to see what was happening. But, right now, there was nothing to see, yet still they pushed and squeezed through one another.

Inside, the hall was decorated with hundreds of flowers and candles. It was such a beautiful sight. At the front of the room, a young man eagerly awaited the beginning of the celebration when his life would forever be changed.

Upstairs, however, the young, twenty-one year old princess stared at herself absently in the mirror. Her handmaids were squabbling over her, making final adjustments on her hair and makeup, and straightening out the finest of wrinkles in her white dress. But there was really no need to do so; she could not have looked more beautiful if she were actually an angel. And yet, she did not feel beautiful. She felt ugly, like the most horrifying hag ever to live upon the earth.

It was her wedding day, and she should have been happy, but Farah was more depressed than she had ever felt before. She had feared this day would come, and now it was here.

"I wish to be alone for now," she said expressionlessly to her handmaids. They bowed and obeyed, leaving the princess alone. Farah walked out onto the balcony that opened from her bedroom. She gazed down at all the people standing around the palace. They were all here to see her get married.

She turned away and instead looked out at the rising sun on the horizon. She knew it was her duty to marry this prince. To become queen and bear a child who will in turn carry on the royal blood line. But, just because she knew she had to do it, didn't mean she wanted to.

As a young child, her mother, before she died, used to tell Farah stories before she fell asleep at night. Stories of princesses who fell into deep sleeps after being pricked by spinning wheels or eating poisonous apples. Princesses who were saved from dragons and beasts by daring handsome princes who risked their lives for their true love and eventually lived happily ever after. She had always dreamed that she would be one of those princesses. Okay, she didn't expect to be rescued from fire breathing dragons, but simply to marry her true love and live happily ever after.

She'd put marriage off as long as she could, telling her father that one was to bossy, or another was too dense, or another possessed to much vanity. She'd managed to do so for three years. But finally, she gave up, knowing that her prince was long gone, most likely married himself.

Farah had met him once. And from the moment her eyes fell upon him she knew he was the one she'd forever dreamed about since she was a little girl.

It had been three years ago, when she was eighteen. Her father's evil vizier was planning to betray them, and lead an army of Persian soldiers in an invasion. But the King's son had snuck into her room late one night and told her the most interesting story of what would happen, should the Vizier succeed in his betrayal. He'd then saved her when the Vizier attempted to murder Farah herself and make it look as if the Prince had done it. After he killed the Vizier, the Prince left her standing alone on her balcony confused. For just before he disappeared beneath the foliage, she'd asked his name. He replied by saying, "Just call me…Kakolukia."

Farah had been so stunned when he said that. Kakolukia was a made up magic word her mother told her when she was younger. It had been their word that only they knew. How had he known it? Unless…he story was not just a story. Unless it had been real.

She sighed. She may never truly know if he'd been telling the truth, because, while her mind told her it was crazy, her heart told her otherwise.

Whether it was real or not, Farah believed that she loved the Prince. She'd felt safe when he was with her, even if it was for such a short time, and when she'd looked into his eyes, she'd felt a connection that she had never felt with anyone else.

A gentle knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. It was the Maharajah, her father.

"Farah are you ready? We are ready to begin," he said.

She nodded without turning to look at him; she did not want him to see the tears that were beginning to form. "I'll be right there," she said quietly.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yes Father."

"You don't seem very happy, and this is your wedding day."

Finally she turned to look at him. She wanted him to know what upset her so much. "How can I be happy?" she asked, "I don't even love the man I'm supposed to live the rest of my life with. This is just the day that will make it official that I can never be with the man I love, the man who's waiting for me…somewhere."

"Farah…I had no idea you felt this way," her father said.

"I tried to tell you so many times."

He walked over to her and threw his arms around her shoulders. She began to weep into his shirt.

"Oh Farah, I'm so sorry."

"I don't want to do this. I can't marry him," she said.

"And you don't have to."

Farah looked up at her father, confused. "What?"

"I'm not going to force you to marry him if you do not want to. Marriage should be between two people who love each other." He leaned close to her, as if telling her a secret. "If you remember, your mother wasn't a princess. She worked in the kitchens, she was a servant."

"But you married her, even though your father was outraged."

"Because I loved her. And now, I'm letting you do that."

"But how will I find him?" Farah asked. The Maharajah smiled at her, "I think you already know. I'll miss you Farah, and I hope you will one day return, once you've found what you're looking for. I'd love to meet my future son-in-law, and hopefully, my future grandchildren."

She smiled and cried again, this time, because she was happy. "But, what about the wedding?"

"Don't worry about that. I'll settle everything. You just get yourself ready. You may leave whenever you want, but I advise that it should be soon, when you can slip out unnoticed. You know those types of people, gossips who will certainly want to milk this for all it's worth."

"Incase I don't see you before I leave," Farah said. She gave her father a huge hug, tears rolling down her face, "Good bye. I love you Daddy."

"I love you too Farah," he said, crying as well.

A few minutes later, Farah was taking her dress off and putting on a more comfortable outfit. She packed away a change of clothes and snuck down into the kitchen to grab enough food and water to last for a few days. Returning upstairs, she packed that away with her clothes in a small rucksack. She slipped outside, down a tree and headed towards the stables.

After finding a horse she liked, she mounted him and took one last look at the only home she'd ever known, and galloped off into the desert.

Twelve days and four detours later, Farah finally reached her destination. And at a good time too. She was beginning to hate the desert sand and especially the heat. This was not the way a princess lived.

So when she spotted the outskirts of the city mere yards away, her heart leapt with joy. She urged her horse to go faster until they entered the city. She was now in the famous city: Babylon. On one of her detours, she'd asked a few of the residents where she may find the son of King Sharaman.

"You will not find him at the palace though. The Prince only goes to the palace to sleep, and that's only occasionally. Usually he wanders the streets by himself. He doesn't like company. Why would someone as beautiful and kind as you want to find the Prince? He's a mean, arrogant man and doesn't welcome strangers," an old woman said.

"You must be mistaken. I've met him and he's very kind," Farah said.

"That may have been the case long ago; now, he is only kind to one person. This mad old man who lives deep within the city. Insane, some say. He plays around with magic, not a wise thing to do around here."

Farah had thanked the woman for the information though it seemed to Farah that she was the insane one. How could that man she described possibly be the Prince? Well, she'd find out sooner or later. First, she needed to find this Old Man the woman spoke of. He would surely know where to find the Prince, and she didn't feel comfortable asking the palace staff, they'd ask too many questions.

She left her horse near a small lake just outside the city and wandered through the busy streets of Babylon. She continued to ask around for directions to the Old Man's home and when she found it, it was not at all what she was expecting.

It was a small red tent pitched up in a clearing in the heart of the city. The tent was thin and patched in places and did not look like the home of a wealthy man. She peeked her head in and called out to see if anyone was home.

"Hello?"

"Who's there?" a raspy old voice asked.

"My name is Farah and I am looking for someone," she said, not knowing where the voice originated from, "Is this the home of the Old Man?"

Finally, he came into view. "Yes, I am the one they all call the Old Man. Did you say your name was Farah? The Princess of India?"

She nodded, surprised that he knew who she was.

"Come in," he said approaching her. He showed her to what seemed to be the living room and sat down on some cushions that were placed on the floor. "Please, sit, make yourself at home."

Farah did so, sitting across from him. She was a bit nervous; the Old Man frightened her a bit. He wore all red, and he has a thinning grey beard, but it was his eyes that scared her the most. They were not white, like a normal human's. They were black and the iris was red instead of the usual brown, green or blue. But while he scared her, she felt comfortable with him. He seemed really nice and wise.

"I was not expecting you to come here. But it is a great honour that you have. I have looked forward to meeting you."

"You have?" she asked.

"Yes, the Prince has told me so many wonderful things about you," the Old Man replied.

Farah felt her heart skip a beat, "The Prince? He's been here?"

"Yes, he comes here quite often. I've known him since he was…oh, an infant. He's like a son to me."

"I actually came here looking for him."

"Yes, yes, I expected that."

"How exactly do you know him?" she asked.

"Well, when the Prince was four, his mother died, may she rest in peace. The King had no time to raise four children all on his own, what with all the political business he was involved with, so he asked me and my wife if we could raise them and give them the love they needed. We accepted of course, since we could not have children of our own and they needed us. They were happy here, the Prince and his three older sisters, and when they all came of age, the returned home to the palace. The girls came by once in a while, but the Prince came by almost every day, simply to tell us how his day was. It seemed he didn't want to leave," the Old Man laughed.

Farah smiled, "Where is your wife now?"

"Oh, she died about a year ago. A devastating time in my life, as well as the Prince's and his sisters' lives. She was like a mother to them."

"Oh…I'm sorry."

"So am I." Changing the subject, the Old Man said, "So you, young princess, I heard you were to be wed, but here you are, in search of another man. Do you love him as he has loved you?" he asked with a mischievous grin.

She looked up at him. Did he say what she thought he said?

As if reading her mind, the Old Man said, "Ah yes, I know all about you, and what you once had with the Prince. Like I said, he told me all about you. When he'd returned from his adventure with his father years ago, he told me all about his little quest, and the lovely woman who accompanied him. His journey…to return the Sands of Time to their Hourglass."

"You mean…?"

"Yes, it was real. I would never doubt him. But you…you've known all along haven't you? But you wouldn't allow yourself to believe him" he said.

"In my heart…I always wanted to believe it, but my mind, my logic kept telling me that it was impossible that such a thing could every happen."

"The heart never forgets love, and true love can never be erased, not even by Time."

"Do you know where the Prince is now? I wish to see him," Farah said.

"No, I'm sorry; he didn't tell me where he was going. That's the thing about him, he's very independent. Never relying on anyone but himself. He's changed over the passed two years." The Old Man seemed sadder now. "But, I think he should be coming by later today, he comes by everyday lately. Do you have anywhere to go?"

"No," Farah admitted, "Coming here was just a sudden idea I had; I guess I didn't think about what would happen once I actually got here."

"I just asked because you seem a bit tired."

"Yes, I am feeling a bit fatigued and I've got a headache, but not too serious. It must be due to all the sun I've gotten in the past few days."

"Here," he offered, "I can give you something for that headache. It will make you sleepy for a little while, you can rest in the back room if you'd like. And tomorrow I can see if there is anything I can do to get you proper accommodations, rather than this ratty old tent."

"Oh, I couldn't impose-" she began.

"Nonsense. It's the least I could do for you Princess."

Finally, she gave in. "Alright, I suppose I could take a little rest. After all, I don't really have any place to be. Oh, and can you please not call me 'Princess', I feel too snobby when I'm called that. Like I deserve special privileges when I don't."

The Old Man laughed. It was a bit rough, as if he hadn't laughed in years. Farah felt bad for him. He must've been so lonely.

Carrying her rucksack over her shoulder, she went into the back room as the Old Man prepared relief for her pounding head.

Later that night, long after the sun had set. The Prince returned to the Old Man's tent.

"Hello? Is anyone home?" he called before entering.

"Yes, yes," the Old Man said in a hushed voice, "Cyrus, I'm right here."

"Why are you being so quiet?" he asked, tucking a loose strand of his, now black, hair.

"I've got company, and she's asleep in the other room."

"Oh, well, anyway, I'm sorry for coming by so late. I've had another rough day. Father's getting worse. It doesn't look too well."

"I'm sorry," the Old Man said. He and the Prince sat down on a couple of cushions. "Would you like some tea?"

"No thanks," the Prince replied, "I'm not staying long."

"You seem distressed. Your father's failing health hurts you, doesn't it?"

He nodded, "I… I'm not ready for this. I've already been through this once, with my mother: Watching her slowly die and there was not a damn thing I could do about it."

"You were a boy, Cyrus. And even now, you are only a man. Leave the fate of others in God's hands."

"I still feel so helpless. Why do I keep losing everyone? I had the power to save them before, but even that was not enough!" he said.

"Hush, you're just upsetting yourself more. Try to relax," said the Old Man to the Prince, as if he were a young child again, scared by the monsters under the bed.

"And now I'll have to be King. I'll have to get married, and have my own family and take over everything. I can't handle that right now, not with this thing after me. It's all too overwhelming."

The Old Man didn't reply. There was nothing he could say. The Prince was all alone; no one could possibly know what he was feeling. He was fighting a war, but not one with an enemy country. This war was one within himself. It was the Prince verses the dragon that lived within his very heart, slowly devouring his soul until there was nothing left but darkness.

Farah turned over in the heap of blankets that was considered a bed. She felt so weak, like a baby kitten that'd just been born. She heard the sound of voices. The Old Man's and someone else. This stranger's voice was deep and hard and edged with an ever constant anger that was not directed at anyone in particular. It was horribly familiar, even if it had changed somewhat.

She sat up and gazed out down the hall through the door which had been left ajar. She could just see the back of the stranger as he moved in front of her field of vision.

He was a tall man with broad shoulders covered in a cloak. His black hair was long and cut unevenly, as if cut by the blade of a sword, and was filthy. Whoever he was, it seemed he did not even have the time to bathe on a regular basis.

Farah got up, letting the blankets fall at her feet. She flattened the creases that had formed in the baby blue nigh dress she had been wearing and combed her fingers through her tangled black hair.

As she got closer to where the Old Man and the visitor were, he heart began to beat faster. The Old Man spotted her and smiled, confirming her untold questions. The stranger, however, did not know she was there, since his back was to her.

Farah let out a deep breath and finally spoke, "Hello…"

When he heard her voice, he didn't believe it was real. It was the voice he heard only in his dreams. A shiver ran down his spine and he didn't dare move, lest he wake up with the realization that it was only a dream.

"Oh, I think I forgot to drop off someone's medicine. So, if you'll excuse me…" the Old Man said not too discreetly. He left silently leaving the two of them there.

Finally, the Prince turned to her. His heart leapt when he saw that it was her.

"Farah…?"

She smiled. "Yes, it's me. It's good to see you again."

The Prince opened his mouth, attempting to speak, but nothing came forth. He approached her, still convinced that this wasn't real, that she wasn't here and he was going insane.

Farah tried to suppress a giggle, "It's alright. I'm really here. See?" She reached out and rested her hand on his arm to show him that she was in fact here.

Not knowing what exactly to say, he said, "I…thought you were getting married. That's what I heard anyway."

"I was." Farah said, "But I decided not to go through with it. I remembered a young man I had once met, who saved my life and perhaps my whole world. I needed to see him again, because…I think I am in love with him."

And for the first time since she'd seen him again, the Prince's face saddened. "Well, I'm sorry then, but you won't find him."

Farah was confused. He did know she was talking about him, didn't he? The Prince turned away. "The man you once knew is dead."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm who I used to be, not anymore."

She took his hand and hugged him. "I don't care."

This surprised him. "What?"

"You can say you've changed, but I know the real you, the one I knew so long ago, is still in there somewhere. I've of you, and your adventures, your victories in war. They all say you're heartless, that you slaughter enemies without remorse. That you're arrogant and a loner, but I know better," she said.

"They are right. I am all those things. And I hate it. But I can't do anything about it, it's who I am now: a heartless monster just like that which haunts me every night," he said mostly to himself.

Farah grew angry. "I didn't come all this way to find a prince who was a coward. That's not who I knew and loved."

"Then you've wasted your time!" he shouted. Sighing, he apologized, "I'm sorry Farah. I'm not mad at you. I didn't mean to yell. I know you're only trying to help."

"Then let me," she said desperately.