Prince of Persia: The Chronicles of the Prince
Book I: Awakening of the King
Chapter 3
One Last Farewell
It had been three days since the reconstruction of Babylon had begun. With the city finished, the Prince rose to his feet and walked over to a pond. He splashed his bright blue eyes with water; he ran his fingers through his rigid black hair. He had not bathed in some time. He stood, watching his reflection in the water dance around as the beads of rain plummeted from the dreary sky. He was troubled today. The ceremony was closing in on him. He would have one last farewell for his father. It would be difficult for the young Prince.
He ventured down the street as thunder clapped and lightning sparked through the sky, illuminating his way. The Prince tried to waste as much time as possible. For these past years he was having to race against it, now he is just trying to stall.
Prince sloshed through the puddles as the black and grey clouds opened up upon him. Rain, cold, wet rain, drenched him in a single downpour. He looked to the sky.
Of all days, why today? So much is happening, so little I can control. I am sending my Father and my people to the Gods soon. This day will not end cheerful.
The Prince staggered up the stone steps, being careful not to slip. He entered though the great wooden door into an empty hallway. He took the secret passage he knew so well, and pulled closed the embroidered drapery behind him as he came out at the other end of the stone hallway.
People, many people were chatting, all about what was to come. As the Prince walked in, he placed his hand on the wall and leaned against it. There before him was his father's casket, with him inside. Farah came running over.
"Prince! Where have you been? What has happened? Is it raining?"
"I went for a walk, nothing has happened, yes it's raining." He answered in a snappy tone.
"I'm sorry Prince, I know how hard this must be for you." She replied.
She took the Prince's hand in hers and walked him over to the casket. He put his hand upon the beautifully carved wooden coffin that his father lay in. He opened the casket and looked down upon him.
"I am sorry father. I let you down. I was not able to save you from those creatures. It was my fault for releasing the Sands." A single tear slid down his face. He stood tall and faced the crowd. Silence flew through the throne room.
"We are all here on this day, to recognize, and say farewell to the great citizens of Babylon. These people gave their lives to help Farah and I escape so we could reach the Vizier and end this war!" the Prince shouted, and Farah came up to his side.
The crowd erupted in cheer.
"But now, we must leave these great people and celebrate their lives in sprit."
Tears appeared in the crowd. Many wives and mothers mourning the lost of their loved ones. You could see the streams run down the villager's faces. The Prince waited in silence thinking of what to say next.
"Losing a loved one is hard," the Prince said, "We are also here to mourn the death of my father, the King of Persia." With those words, the Prince took his father's sword, which still had the stain of scarlet from the Vizier upon it, and held it up high in the air. Farah started clapping slowly, more and more people joined in, the clap getting faster and faster, until it sounded like the thunder that had rolled through the sky earlier. As it died down, the Prince stepped up to his fathers throne, his throne, and placed the engraved sword above the wooden chair. There it hung, shining its light upon the Prince's face. He stepped down from the alter and walked back over to Farah.
"I owe my life to that sword. I found it lying beside my slain father. After I was attacked, I used it to find my way out. I later killed the Vizier with it, but this was not how I wanted to acquire the Sword of Kings. It was a tradition that it would be passed down from King to King. It will be my turn to rule over Babylon soon enough." The Prince gestured to the throne. "But for now, we must mourn the loss of our loved ones and the King of Persia, my father…" the Prince's voice became soft.
"Everyone please file out as we continue with the ceremony. Make your way to the Hanging Gardens." Farah said while clutching the Prince's hand in hers and pointing out the back door. "Lets go Prince," she said. "There isn't much time left. We must get this casket out there, but first…" She took the Prince and kissed him upon his lips, arms tight around each other, the bond between them not broken. Standing, lips moving, until they became two again.
"Wow," the Prince muttered. Farah giggled and continued outside with the Prince beside her. They walked down the many corridors of the palace and through the embellished archways of the extensively gleaming hallways. When they arrived at the Hanging Gardens, Farah awed at how decorative it was. There were lights everywhere, strung from wall to fence surrounding the entire garden. All of which were illuminating the contrast between the dull greens and browns of the plants and the vibrant reds, blues and yellows of the many flowers. Farah stood still, not budging until the Prince brought her back to reality.
"Its beautiful…" her voice trailed off into nothing.
"Yes, but now is not the time for sight seeing, we must start the second half of the ceremony." The Prince countered with a hint of sorrow in his voice. He grabbed Farah by the arm and took her across the grass that was moistened from the rainfall just before. Farah followed effortlessly and the Prince climbed to the top of the balcony, overlooking the crowd.
"Here is the final resting place for our people and the King. They will be cremated here in the gardens. The fire pit is ready for it to begin." The Prince signaled to the back of the crowd as two well built men covered in chain mail, hauled the magnificently hand engraved casket forward to the fire pit. They placed it dead center, the bodies of the many others joining it. The Prince stepped down from the balcony, reuniting with Farah. Together they sauntered to the ditch where they stopped, the Prince grabbed a torch, and hand in hand, he and the Princess touched the flame to the casket. The flame elevated up at least five stories. The trench was built in such a way where the fire spread from every angle away from the center casket. The inferno stretched around and formed a ring around the perimeter of the depression in the soil.
"Goodbye father," the Prince said as thick black smoke ascended and dissipated in the night air. Farah continued to hold his hand while the Prince held the torch in the air. "It is done. Let us say one last farewell to these admirable people." The Prince raised the torch higher; the guards around the outside of the crowd raised them as well. The residents raised their hands to the darkened sky and wished a safe journey to all.
"This fire will burn through the night," Farah said, standing before the villagers, "those of you who wish to stay, may, all that don't, please return to your homes." Farah turned to the Prince, "What is it that you wish to do?"
"I'm gonna sit here for awhile," The Prince replied while staring at the blazing flames, "you should leave, its getting late."
"I am not leaving you Prince, whether you like it or not." Farah stood beside him and the Prince took her in his arms, her head upon his shoulder. Together they looked out into the night sky, the stars barely visible through the thick smog. Several villagers began to leave, while others found a spot on the grass and reminisced about their times with their loved ones.
The fire burned on through the night, just as Farah said it would, most of the citizens asleep by now, or beginning to drift off. The flames began to die down roughly at two in the morning. A guard finally doused it when the flame had become shorter then three feet. The Prince lay on the dry grass with Farah still in his arms, neither moved, nor stirred until the sun rose over the hills, its brilliant light creeping over the stone homes throughout the city of Babylon. Farah stirred.
"Prince…" she said in a groggy tone. She turned her head, her hair frizzled from her nights slumber upon the earth, to glance at the Prince. He was still dreaming, but sweating. He began to shake, crying out. "Prince!" Farah shouted, "Prince wake up!" she gave him a shove and shook him until his eyes forced open. He sat up, panting, his breath getting heavier and heavier, until it finally began to decrease in speed. He gasped. "What happened?" Farah asked, a worried look on her face, "Was it a nightmare?"
"The kingdom is not yet saved."