The first beams of the sun lightened the sky in the colour of pink. The whisper of hundred voices filled the air. The only word was heard. "Now"
A young man bowed to his older companion and asked, slightly frowning over something "Are you sure he will do what he promised, father?" Shahraman, the mighty King of Persia smiled calmly.

"He will, my dear son. Think for yourself." A pause followed.
"Yes, I guess… But… But father, that is not noble. We should have challenged Maharaja looking in his eyes, not sneaking in his stronghold like some kind of thieves!"
"Sometimes that is the only way, my dear Prince."

"My king!" suddenly exclaimed one of the generals "The signal! We can move!"
"Now, my son!"

And then it started. Thousands of warriors stormed through the gates of the royal palace, killing men and women, burning down their houses… The Prince shivered and clutched his hands around the sword. It mustn't be like this! Too much violence, too much death. How dirty can people become if they kill innocent women and children. He saw how his father raised the sword but a second later he put it away.

"Ah… The Vizier. I presume you…"
"Your majesty, I trust you will remember your promises?" Shahraman looked up to his son

" The Maharaja's treasure vaults lie within." Prince nodded gloomy and spurred his horse. "See how he rides!" father laughed. "Like the son of the warrior! "Prince didn't like that Indian, some inner voice was telling him to beware of the old man. Too deep in his thought Prince didn't see the archway collapsing and the next moment he got thrown out of the saddle. Second in the air. Rough landing. Darkness.

… Do you think I felt regret gazing upon the destruction we have brought? Or at least humility at the speed at which a world can be transformed from a good world into a hell? If you think so – you are mistaken. From that moment I thought of one thing only – the honour and glory I will bring my father by fighting like a real warrior in my first battle…

Head hurt terribly and it took him some time to focus the vision and get rid of annoying black spots in the air. He lay on the ground of a small yard and some soldiers from his father's army tried to break through the gates with the help of a giant wooden log. Just a minute later wall got smashed with flaming missile and it got dark from the dust in the air. Prince looked up just to see the bodies of mutilated Persian soldiers. He wiggled nose trying not to sniff the smell of burned flesh.

"I am one lucky guy…"he quietly muttered and brushed dust from white pants that used to be bright and smooth. Hmm… not anymore. Prince browsed around in the dust searching for the sword he dropped somewhere. Well at least he thought he dropped. Sword wasn't on a place it belonged to. "Ah… There you are! Not a scratch." He dragged dear thing from under pile of rubble. Prince's eyes caught eaves where he could possibly jump to get out of the "well". Quickly he made it to the top of the wall and ran to the entrance in the palace. But it would be too easy. Seemed like fate was giving him challenge after challenge. Wall crumbled under his feet and with a squeak of surprise young man fell in a hole that was made by another flying bomb. Cursing silently he climbed up again and ran in the building. And there he faced the moment of truth. Everything young Prince dreamed about centred in a lonely Indian guard, who was desperate in his will to get down and help others in their battle. Predatory expression appeared in young man's narrowed grey eyes as he carefully took the sword out. Guard didn't understand what hit him. With cry Prince performed series of fast and deadly moves, making his opponent collapsing to the ground without even a peep. Strange enough he did not feel satisfaction he desired so much and believed in. A feeling of disgust was lurking somewhere deep down in his soul but Prince preferred not to pay attention to it. For a while. But after second… and third… and fourth fight the feeling burst out. He felt disgusted killing people who were considered to be his enemies… Was it their fault that the beast of the war broke free? Why must they give their life to someone else simply like this? It's…It's not right!

… Many men that day fought to win honour and glory on the battlefield that their king might say to them, as Khosrau said to Rostam: "You are the noblest of my warriors." From the moment my sword tasted blood I knew this would not be my way. I would win my father's praise not by killing but by being the first to find the Maharaja's Treasure Vault and the wonders within…

It didn't take him long to reach the entrance of the Treasure Vault. Prince was exhausted but happy. After jumping up and down, avoiding spiky logs, hugging one column after another, he finally was there. So grateful he was to all his mentors who during those years taught him all the moves and combats. Without them he would not ever got here. The most famous vault of all. The one which kept the precious secret inside itself - the Dagger of Time.

… There was the treasure I could carry with pride as the trophy of our victory…

The room was giant by its size. Amazing that it was built just to hide one little dagger! Prince could not see ceiling or floor of the hall. But he surely spotted enormous statue of a man just in the centre of the room. When he was still performing miracles of acrobatics on the columns, he noticed the dagger on the top of the sculpture. Everything can be climbable, Prince was taught. To spot every little crack, every stone. If the wall is plain you can run on it, if the passage is narrow – jump up or down, do not think or doubt. Your logics and your brains are the best weapon you can have… Quickly Prince drew in head a plan of getting on the top of the statue and fastly fulfilled it. He was all sweaty and was breathing fast. In three hours he did so many exercises like in usual circumstances in three days. Well... For that he was actually taught, wasn't he? For extreme cases, not just self training in the garden. Prince knew his body will get used to it, no doubt about that. But here it lay. In front of him. The price, the reward and a source of honor and glory for him. All trembling of a strange affection and excitement, young man picked up the Dagger. It was made of a diamond with beautiful curves and a strange symbol of crescent moon on its hilt. Carefully the Prince examined the Dagger. It was glowing. Even closer bowed young warrior to his founding. "Sand…?" Too late he noticed that the ceiling above him crumbled dangerously and a giant rock was ready to fall. With a gasp of fear Prince clutched hand around the dagger and accidentally pushed some secret button on the hilt. And a strange thing happened. His vision blurred, like he was swimming under water and seemed like the time stood still. Just for a second. But this second was enough for the Prince to jump aside so the giant rock would hit the place where he was standing just a while ago. It was absolutely impossible but he saw it with his own eyes. The Dagger has turned back time…! "Hah!" Exclaimed warrior in triumph and casually put Dagger on his belt. Now the whole vault started dangerously shaking.

… I had what I came for. It was time to get out – now...!

King Shahraman was watching his soldiers taking the Hourglass from its bed where it probably stood for years. All of a sudden dusty figure dropped down from the balcony and rolled over the floor just to take a position on one knee in front of him. Shahraman smiled bright "Oh!" His son brushed strands of hair from face and stretched hands with the Dagger in them

"Father, I have brought us honor and glory." Small eyes of the Vizier lightened up as he saw what the son of the King had brought. He stepped forward and coughed heavily as he spoke.

"Your Majesty, you have promised me my choice of the Maharaja's treasures… That Dagger!"
"Surely you won't deny that it is the souvenir of my son's first battle." "You may have a choice of all the Maharaja's other treasures…"

Fastly the old man had turned to the Hourglass.

"Except for the Hourglass" finished the King. Prince shivered when he saw with what fury the Vizier looked at his father. That man was dangerous and he surely knew something that they all didn't. Better be careful with the old man. Prince started to watch how the Hourglass was brought down so he didn't see how the Vizier coughed wildly and spurted some blood in the white handkerchief. "… That will make a fine gift for the Sultan of Azad when we pass through his city. And some exotic animals for his menagerie and the dozen of slave girls. That should be enough."

For a while king Shahraman was thinking about something and then turned to his warriors. "I want no animals or maidens harmed until I have chosen. Let it be known, King Shahraman is merciful in victory!" For a split moment the Prince, who was just looking around a bit and with one ear listening to monologue of his father, saw a shadow hiding behind the pillar. But when he looked up again everything seemed normal.

A young Indian girl dressed in red with gold lining sari was carefully peeking from behind the column. Nervously she was clutching her slim fingers around the golden medallion with the crescent moon symbol on it. Dark-haired Persian prince looked straight in her eyes but she managed to hide before he suspected anything. She just wanted to run to another column where the view was much better when suddenly she got grabbed by a soldier and knocked out.

It was time to get back home. Pass the Palace of Azad, where King's Shahraman's old friend Sultan lived. But before that, Persian army had to cross an unfriendly desert. Sea of Sand. What secrets does it keep? The sands saw the beginning of the world, they will stay here forever as we all die. Beautiful and yet dangerous beauty. Many men lost without a trace here. Desert gives no mercy and chooses by its own, strange criteria… Those were the thoughts of the Prince as he galloped past walking soldiers saying nice words for some of them, concerning over health of others. Some would say that he pays too much attention to "peasants" but the Prince had his own point of view. To be a good King means to be friend to everyone. If there won't be any unsatisfied, there will be peace in Persia. Not that he already was thinking of becoming a King – his father was strong and healthy man, just he was taught those simple rules by enslaved mentors from other countries. All of them had different point of views and they created Prince's own logic and way of thinking. Even father could not understand those high ideals and morality of his own son. Finally young Prince reached head of the column where his father and the Vizier were. Just one look at that old man gave the Prince strange and not pleasant feeling. He was up to something, no doubt. Prince tried to talk with the King about this but father was strangely blind and trusted Indian totally and completely.

… Trust not a man who has betrayed his master, nor take him into your own service, lest he betrays you too. I learned the truth of this, to my sorrow, the day we arrived in Azad as the Sultan's honored guests…

The Palace of Azad was a beautiful place, famous with its wonders all around the world. Prince had never been here but has heard that the Sultan is rather cheerful and satisfied with life person. He and the King were old and good friends and even were hand to hand in rather bloody battles. When the Sultan came down from his throne to greet so rare guests the Prince just could not hide treacherous grin appearing on his face. He bowed head so long dark hair covered his face and impolitely giggled. World famous Gatherer of The Wonders and Father's Best Friend was little chubby man dressed in rose and white colors. Not counting that he hardly reached till the King's shoulder.

"My friend!" smiled Shahraman and spread arms for a friendly hug.
"My friend," returned the Sultan, while happily hugging long – not – seen King. "Your visit brings joy and honor to my poor and humble dwelling. If only you had given me time to prepare proper welcome. " Then he finally paused and looked at other people standing. "Oh, so you must be the Prince of Persia, Shahraman's son. I have heard a lot about you and have to admit you look much like your father in his younger age."

The Prince put calm face and smiled politely. "I am honored to hear that." Then he made a bow. Just a little one – to show his good intentions but not to show that he puts this person higher then himself or his father. The Sultan's attention was distracted by Shahraman again. The King had a surprise for him and didn't want to wait any longer.

"The glories of Azad are famous throughout the world…"He started, excited by the face expression of the Sultan. Like a little kid awaiting a magnificent and expensive presents. "…And the best is yet to come." They passed by captured Indian women and the Sultan's eyes got big as two coins when he saw such beauty. Especially pretty was one in red sari. She gave him back rather angry stare. Next were the cages with exotic animals… "I give you…" Shahraman made a dramatic gesture in the direction of the big object covered with material. "The Sands of Time!"

Forgive me for some dot absense and others silly mistakes. I was writing on the peak of inspiration. Oh boy. Did I say that?? Lol. Inspiration I never had. Anyway, this story and The Spear of Destiny are my first stories so all reviews are greatly appretiated. May the Force be with you. Wait... Wrong one! Blaaah...

With cheers, AngelT