Chapter Two: Dungeons of Jaffar
When William came to, he was being dragged by the arms through a hall by two corpses. For a moment he lay still, looking around for Felix. His sword and armor were gone, and he was clad in fine, white silks. Pulling himself up, he slammed a leg against one of the guards. Yet even as he struck it, he felt the strength drain from him.
One of them slammed him in the stomach as they dragged him to a portcullis. It pulled up before them, and William was thrown downward. "In, you worthless Gaul."
William landed in a crouch and glanced up. "I, sir, am English."
The guards turned and walked away without a word.
Willliam stood up and examined his cell. It was...
Strange.
Most cells were a single room of stone, with a bed if the Lord was a kind one. Usually with straw on the floor for heat. Yet there was no straw here, and no bedding. It was also meticulously clean, no dust or smell. No mold or dripping water. Nothing that showed this place had ever been lived in.
Perhaps it never had?
And that was far from the strangest thing.
Fix feet away from William was a sheer drop. Moving to the edge, he saw it led to a lower room that could have been a cell itself. But it was a dead-end, though he could probably get down there if he tried. Instead, he put his hands in the silken white garments he'd been dressed in and paced.
"Well, this is a fine mess you've gotten yourself into, William," said William. "At the very least, now you know why God called you to this place. Walking corpses, speaking, and throwing people into dungeons is not natural.
"What to do?
"Well, I suppose I ought to escape from this place first of all.
"But how-"
"The escape from the cell is the easy part, actually." said a voice.
William looked up to the cell door where it came from, but he saw no one. Only a mouse. "Who are you? Show yourself."
"I am." said the mouse. "It's me?" That was a scholarly voice for a rodent. "I am Nicodemus, the personal servant of the Princess. I've been sent on her behalf to explain the rules."
And he leaped down into the cell. William stared at the mouse and almost said that mouses couldn't talk. However, it would be beneath his dignity to admit to ignorance, so he simply focused on what was said. "Rules? What are you talking about."
"You have wandered onto a divine battlefield, young man," said Nicodemus. "One that has its roots in ages past, far before the rise of Rome.
"You have won the heart of the Princess, you see. And that means you have to save her."
William took this into account. The guard had mentioned something about that, had he not? Still, that seemed... unlikely. "I've never even seen this Princess. How could I have won her heart, and what does this... nevermind. Explain." Never admit ignorance.
"You received the dream, didn't you?" asked Nicodemus.
"Yes," said William, deciding to change the subject. "Where is Felix?"
"At present, I expect he's in the dungeon as well, awaiting his own chance," said Nicodemus. "This palace is massive and extends to many times and places. It'll be his turn next."
"I did tell you to explain," said William simply.
"Oh very well, I suppose I'll say it all flat out," said Nicodemus. "The time doesn't officially start until you are ready, in any case. Our idea of an hour is very different from yours.
"Ages ago, when humankind was young and the gods already old, Sultan Sharaman Persia. Not Persia as you know it, but a Persia of dreams. The Kings who ruled over it were more numerous than the stars. The smallest of border forts make the palaces of kings today pale. And the metals, such strong and powerful ones. In those days, mankind was strong and not plagued by diseases or the sins like they once had.
"The glories of Rome at its height was akin to the most insignificant of hovels.
"And Sharaman was wise and powerful, strong in war. And his empire, the Empire of Dreams, spread far and wide.
"Until, at last, he marched to war against Alexander the Great.
"The war situation...
"Well, it developed not quite to his advantage. But what is important is what happened while the war was beginning. You see, Sharaman had by his side a Vizier who acted as his intermediary with the common people. The first of these was Cyrus the Great, and each Vizier was practically a king in his own right.
"Well, Jaffar was the latest, and he was also a son of Sharaman and a mortal woman.
"Left in charge while Sharaman marched to war, Jaffar seized control of Persia for himself. And he approached the Princess, Sharaman's only divine daughter, and gave her a choice. Marry him, or die within the hour. By this time, the Vizier had attained godlike power. For he had labored, seeking out forbidden knowledge and learning all the ways of darkness. So he was more than capable of making good on his threat."
William thought about how long those events took place ago. "...I imagine it has been rather more than an hour since the sands in the hourglass started descending. And I don't recall any stories of Alexander fighting Sharaman."
"Yes, it has," said Nicodemus. "And that's because humanity has phased those stories out. What is real is really what people acknowledge. With the passing of ages, Sharaman and his pantheon faded from your memories. They took on different forms.
"You see, Gods are not like you or I. They are not wholly bound within the confines of time and space. As a full-blooded god, the Princess had a deep connection to the spiritual realm. If Jaffar were to marry her, he would gain even greater power.
"Naturally, she would prefer death to submission.
"But she knew Jaffar knew this. And so she offered him a wager between immortals.
"You see, the Princess had long been friends with a young street rat. He was poor but goodhearted and highly athletic. A... diamond in the rough, if you will. And Jaffar had already locked him within the dungeons.
"The Princess then made a wager with Jaffar. He would give the youth in his dungeons a chance for victory. If the hour elapsed without him saving her, she would marry him. Jaffar was permitted to stack things against the young hero. He could use any and all methods, but there was one caveat.
"The hero must always have a fair chance of winning.
"Naturally, Jaffar agreed.
"And so the young street rat escaped and made his way up the many levels of the palace. He dodged numerous guards and, at last, came to the Princesses room. But Jaffar was in the way. Hefting a sword, the street rat rushed to face Jaffar in single combat and...
"Um...
"Well, the street rat had no idea how to use a sword and was a human, while Jaffar was a trained warrior. So, well..."
"The battle developed not quite to his advantage." guessed William. Never send a peasant to do a knights job.
"Yes, he was cut to ribbons quite brutally," said Nicodemus. "So then Jaffar naturally heads back to the Princess to collect his prize. But, then, he finds another hourglass. And it had only just begun.
"You see, the Princess is a god, and her love for even an acquaintance is far deeper than a mortal can have. So, she can look at virtually any good man or hero and be passionately and deeply in love with them. At least, for a mortal.
"In addition, she is a goddess of the spiritual plane. She can act in virtually any time and place. And so, even as the street rat was climbing, she'd arranged for a new would-be hero to arrive in this very dungeon. For you see, this palace is no longer aligned with your own world. Time doesn't pass the same way it does in your world.
"In one move, the Princess had trapped Jaffar. He had also given her a way to forestall his victory, and eventually gain victory herself.
"So it was that the great divine game began."
"What happened with Alexander?" asked William, who had studied enough to not believe everything he heard. "The Greeks say he ascended to Mount Olympus, or that he died of disease."
"Alexander the Great slew Sharaman and took his empire," said Nicodemus. "it was quite a spectacular victory. Lightning bolts were cast as spears; mountains were toppled. So dramatic we had to write it out of reality. Now we just say his Satrap, Bessus killed Great King Darius.
"Real things have to be kept mundane, I'm afraid. The truly great things happen in stories, during battles in the spiritual world. As far as your history is concerned, when he had finished his conquest of India, he entered this place. He began to scale the tower himself. He got as far as Jaffar himself and dueled him personally. It was a glorious battle, well worth a song if only anyone had been around to see it.
"Alexander nearly had Jaffar at his mercy. But, well, Alexander's old wounds reopened in the fight, and Jaffar struck him dead while he was reeling. Many others came as well, from all over, for the Princess calls out to heroes constantly.
"Of course, Jaffar has not been idle himself. All the guards of the palace were transformed into the haunted wights you saw before you. And, of course, he has learned to wield all kinds of black magic of the soul."
"But, where does this magic come from?"
"The land," said Nicodemus. "Every single guard and trap and a strange bit of architecture in this palace has been made with magic. All sorts of treacherous things are about, and they are achieved by draining the life from the land.
"That's why there are so many deserts in this region of the world. Jaffar drove out the people to fuel his power. By doing so, he also made vast regions of barrens that must be traversed for any would-be hero to arrive."
"Why not just render it so barren that no one could survive the journey?" asked William.
"That's just it!" said Nicodemus. "He has to give them a fair chance. And those aren't terms he can wriggle out of; it was a divine contract. And gods have to keep both the letter and the spirit of their oaths. Otherwise, Jaffar never should have made the bargain with the Princess, to begin with.
"But there is also our danger.
"If Jaffar ever did get the Princess to marry him, it would be an untold disaster. For one thing, he'd no longer be restrained from using his powers on the world at large. He'd likely try to build up a new empire, and I doubt anyone would like that. And that is to say nothing of the power he'd have if the Princess was his bride.
"He could influence anywhere at any time. His reach would extend to all times and places. All beliefs and desires.
"In a worst-case scenario, the world would become his plaything and we'd all be at his mercy."
"God would never allow such a thing to happen," noted William with confidence. Not unless humanity did something to truly deserve it, at least.
"That may very well be true," said Nicodemus. "Your God is one of the more reasonable of the deities I've dealt with. But even he works through agents, and who's to say that you are not his agent in this."
William paused. "Who are you? Are there other mice who... speak as you do?"
"None like me, no," said Nicodemus. "I am the speaker of our race. We are more intelligent than most, but I alone may speak your tongue. We are the Princess's companions and servants.
"Among... other duties."
William had half a mind to inquire about those. But he doubted the mouse wished to speak of them, and he had nothing to bargain with. "So you want me to rescue the Princess. What does that entail?"
"I want you to try," said Nicodemus, scurrying down to the lower level. William followed him, scaling down on the cold tiles. "No one is actually expecting you to succeed at this, Jaffar has gotten very good at making fair chances seem... unfair.
"But, with every guard you slay, every trap you avoid, the energy used to create it will be released. Some green will be restored to the lands he has taken it from. That will be a great help to many villagers, even if they never know your name. And it'll also pave the way for some future hero to try their luck."
"How comforting," said William. "What happens if I fail?"
Nicodemus eyed him. "Well, erm, there are actually two varieties of failure here. In one, you die. I... well, I expect I don't need to go on, do I?"
"Not really," admitted William. Death was a fairly simple matter; it was what happened after you had to worry about.
"In the other, you don't die, but the sands in the hourglass run dry," said Nicodemus. "If that happens, the wager is over. You've lost your chance to save the Princess. She won't be there, even if you get to the top, which you probably won't. Jaffar is likely to throw everything he has at you, once you run out of sands.
"You will no longer be afforded any protection, after all.
"In that case, well, you're free to leave, and the task moves over to the next hero. In this case, your companion, Felix. If both of you succeed in surviving without achieving the clock, well, you're free to go.
"But, in any case, you'll need to get out of the dungeon to make your escape. Jaffar isn't one to leave prisoners alive. So I wouldn't try running down the clock."
"Alright, so suppose I actually get to the top, defeat Jaffar and rescue the Princess?" asked William.
The mouse shifted. "Well then, you'll become Prince of Persia, I imagine."
"That title has no meaning to me, or anyone else," said William. "The Persian Empire ceased to exist ages ago. The damn Muslims finished them off after Severus did all the real work."
"Oh, yes, well, I can certainly see why the title wouldn't appeal," said Nicodemus. "But what you don't understand is that dreams and reality are both parts of the same ocean. Reality is the thing on the surface, but once you sink below the waves, it's all the same."
"Meaning?" asked William.
"The Princess is the ultimate boon," said Nicodemus. "The culmination of desire. The ultimate achievement. If you could but think of the benefits-"
"I'm not interested in the benefits, or in her," said William flatly. "I'll see to her rescue soon enough."
Nicodemus looked at him strangely. "But you-"
"Leaving a damsel in distress to her fate is something no chivalrous man can do," said William. "It is my obligation to do what I can to save her."
Nicodemus eyed him with what might have been an approving eye. "Right, excellent, well, the first thing you need to do is find your sword. Jaffar always leaves one around, unguarded, as part of the rules. Though there will be dangers, you don't need a sword to defeat. Once you have that, you'll need to defeat the threshold guardian.
"That's the one who makes sure nobody advances without a sword. Fair chance and all that."
"Well, as long as we're talking about fair chances, how do I get out of this cell?" asked William.
Nicodemus smiled and moved over to a tile. Tapping it twice, it shuddered. "Well now, that is a common question. One thing you should remember is that nothing in this place is exactly how it appears."
It was a secret passage and a fair chance.
Nicodemus looked back up. "Now, I must give the same terms to Felix, of course."
William turned around and slammed a foot onto the tile. It caved inward, falling to the ground and shattering. Then he leaped down.
"Mind the fall-" began Nicodemus.
But William landed in a crouch. One of his feet hurt a great deal, but he forced himself to stand anyway. So what if he had twisted it, the flesh was nothing.
"Oh, well, too late," said Nicodemus. "Either way, I can't help with anything else. Good luck to you and please, be careful. A lot of people are counting on you to restore their dying lands."
William raised a hand and clenched it. It was time to rescue a Princess.
Author's Note:
It's somewhat ironic that the Prince is regarded as an Arabian hero. While it is appropriate, his original depiction was fair-haired and European. He even uses a straight sword, in marked contrast to the bad guys. As long as I was trying to reinvent the myth of Prince of Persia, I decided to make the Prince a Crusader.
In doing so, I can make a plot point out of an art inconsistency.
Oh, next time you play, pretend every single time you die in Prince of Persia, that is some other poor adventurer. A guy who was killed before he could make it any further to get to the Princess. All of a sudden, the story becomes a heck of a lot darker.