Stranger
I believe I saw him in my dreams before he came to me. I dreamed of many things in those days—strange marvels as foreign to me as they were inexplicable. A dangerous journey, an urgent purpose… I travelled swiftly through a deadly paradise, always with him by my side. Images flashed, pushing themselves at me, and somehow I knew they were important. A sword—no, a dagger—sand, sand swirling everywhere. A dagger of sand—suddenly I recognized it. In trembling fingers I grasped the legendary Dagger of Time. But how—
And so I would awaken, and with my first gasp, reality would be sucked back into place around me. A glance around my familiar bedchambers would calm the mad tempest of my imagination, and all would be as before.
That night was warm, and the stickiness in the usually dry air promised rain. I chose to leave the balcony windows open, with only the light curtains protecting me from the danger of the Unknown outside.
My dreams that night were chaotic, but possessed of an urgency which alarmed me. Scenes and images were thrown at me faster than I could comprehend them, rapidly chasing each other toward some great goal I was too dizzy to see. I fell, light and graceful as a dancer, while a voice screamed my name. My own sharp breath awoke me once again. The dream world dissolved around me. But a few pictures lingered stubbornly. A dagger—sand—his face, shouting my name—
A figure appeared on my balcony as if slipping out of a fold in the thick night air. I rose, feeling as though I was still dreaming, and none of this was real.
A strong hand gripped my shoulder. Firm but gentle, its warmth and light pressure convinced me that this was no dream. I looked into his face, knowing whom I would see. Yet I was still amazed to see him—this fancy of my dreams, standing here before me.
"Do not be afraid." Curiously, I was not. His presence filled me with wonder, not fear, even though he was a stranger and an intruder. He thrust something at me. "This belongs to you."
At the sight of the weapon, a sharp wave of terror hit me. I staggered back. "The Dagger of Time! But it is locked away within my father's treasure vaults! How did you—"
He did not reply. A strange look was in his eye, as if he was not really seeing me, but rather remembering something far away. His face revealed a perplexing mixture of emotions—sorrow, blended with relief, and all masked by a feeling of restraint. It seemed almost as if I reminded him of something he had lost.
Without warning, he spoke:
"Most people think time is like a river, that flows swift and sure in one direction. But I have seen the face of time, and I can tell you—they are wrong. Time is an ocean in a storm.
"You may wonder who I am, or why I say this."
I felt as if I would burst if I did not know.
"Sit down, and I will tell you a tale like none that you have ever heard."
I did so, slowly, never taking my eyes off him. He could not have been more than twenty years old—scarcely beyond my eighteen years. Yet the pain etched in his face could have been that of a much older man, one who has lost the thing he values above all else. The joy had been stolen from his eyes, leaving them dark and empty.
"Know first: I am the son of Sharaman, the mighty king of Persia…"
A Persian prince? The enemy, in my own bedchambers! Why had I not been more cautious? Infuriated—whether with him, or with myself for carelessly indulging my curiosity, I did not know—I rose, prepared to call in the guards to arrest the villain.
He read the intent on my face, but continued hurriedly on. His next words so arrested my attention that I could not help but be drawn deeper into his strange tale. He spoke of a battle between our countries, a swift attack on India, as if it had occurred only yesterday—a war which had clearly never been waged; although my father and his advisors had had recent suspicions concerning the Persians' intentions.
He described the beauty and majesty of the very city in India where I resided, and the hidden treasure vaults of this same palace—my home, in which he held me captivated, beyond escape, like a snake charmer. He told me of the honour and glory he sought, stirring glowing embers in my soul. Desire began to burn within me as I felt myself sinking helplessly into his words.