HAPPY BIRTHDAY AJ. I HOPE YOU HAD A GREAT DAY! I really hope you enjoy this chapter. Sadly though this might be the last chapter I post for a while. Next week is my birthday, and I have a lot of stuff coming up because I am joining the military. I will try to find the time to post some more, but to be honest I can't make any promises because I need to spend time with my family, friends, and getting things together with my recruiter to make sure everything is in order. Please don't hate me, I will finish this, just not anytime soon. But I do hope you like this chapter. Please review.

Azada paced back and forth in front of the shrine of her deity. She prayed for two days straight that Garsiv would be alright, yet this morning they had received another letter that explained that he still had not been found, and most the Scythians had retreated. Neither could be found, and she knew that to fine one would mean to find the other. She just hoped that whenever they found either of them, that they found Garsiv alive. Her worst fear at the moment was thinking that her son could be dead.

She knew that Garsiv was not her biological son, but she loved him as if she had pushed him from her own womb. She had raised him into the man he was today. He would have been just fine without her she thought, but she liked to think that he fared better because he had her. She would hate to think of how he would have turned out without her guidance. He was always a rather severe boy, she knew, he took a lot after his mother. Azada had been gentle with him, and eventually he started to soften. So yes, he might have fared without her, but he wouldn't have turned out to be the man he was. He still had his moments when he was rather strict, but there was a softness in his heart now.

Her heart clenched frantically. She put a hand over her chest in the attempt not to panic. She did not know what would happen if they didn't find Garsiv How would her husband react? Her other children? Herself? Better yet… How would Shraga react?

She remembered after she had read the letter she had clenched it to her chest as if that would bring her closer to her family. She wanted everyone to be home, and she wanted them all home now. She feared for Garsiv, and she missed her husband and Tus. The letter had been written in her husband's hand writing and she wished he was here so he could comfort her. She desperately needed her husband's soft words, and warms arms. She didn't have them so she had to be strong, as strong as a mother could be in a situation like this.

She tried her hardest not to choke on a sob. She knew life was not easy, it wasn't even easy if you were the first wife to the King of Persia. She is a Queen, and her life was hard. She knew that her handmaiden felt the same way right now over her two brothers that served in the army, as well as her husband who served. She worried about her family just as much as Azada worried about hers. Her lower lip trembled was she silently, and selfishly wished for her family to be home.

So here she was again ready to start up another vigil of intense prayer in hopes that it would help her wishes come true. Azada was a woman devout to her faith and she knew every word and sacrifice offered to her Gods would help turn the hands into her favor, or so she hoped. She couldn't be sure if it would, but she knew it didn't hurt to try. She figured that her method of coping with his disappearance was better than Shaga and Dastan's anyway. Praying seemed like it would work, beating each other wouldn't.

They had been in the training grounds beating each other senseless with wooden swords ever since they had read the letter. She had watched them from afar for several minutes one day and she honestly thought that she needed to intervene because they looked as if they could seriously hurt each other. They were fast, swift with their blades, and they were deadly accurate. It was a Godsend that they were wooden swords, even if they could still bruise and bleed from them.

She had learned quickly that Shraga was better with a blade than she could have ever dreamed. When she got close enough to seriously hurt the younger man, she always slowed her attack so he could parry her wooden blade, which made Azada respect Shraga all the more. She also had the grace of the best dancers of the palace. If Dastan came close to hurting her seriously she would whirl around him as if he were nothing but an object in her path. Azada could not help but be amazed by what she saw. With the understanding that they needed to work off their own feelings about Garsiv in a way that settled them, Azada had left them alone.

Despite how skilled both were, last night when they had come in to check on her, they were covered in sand and bruises. Shraga even had a little blood trickle from her nose onto her leather tunic that Azada was sure she stole from Garsiv's room. She was not overly surprised to find them worse for wear but neither was seriously injured, so she hadn't said anything to them, other than tell them to go cleanse themselves. What worried her the most were the grim look they both wore. She tried to speak kind words to them in hopes to raise their sprits, it didn't work. For her to speak words to raise their spirits, she needed to believe her words. She had a hard time believing them though because she had a bad feeling. They had just looked all the more grim after she spoke, and so had she. So she turned back to her vigil and let them leave.

She knelt in front of the deity finally and bowed her head and started pray. She prayed for Garsiv first, and then she prayed for Shraga. After she prayed for them, she prayed for the rest of her family. She prayed for hours, keeping herself bowed and her head against the cool marble floor. She would stay this way until she felt better. It turned out it took seven hours for her to feel any sort of peace. But once it finally settled over her she rose and plucked a white dove from a bird cage and shoved a pin through its tiny beating heart. She knew a sacrifice must be made so she made one. She poured the blood of the bird onto the alter and whispered her wish for a safe homecoming of her family.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

"I don't think I understand Shraga…" Dastan whispered as he stared at her face. She sighed slightly and thought of a better way to explain to him what she was trying to say. She had not thought he would comprehend what she was saying, but she had hoped. She moved around on the couch she sat on in her room uncomfortably. Her body was stiff and sore from all the sparring they had done over the last few days and she was having a hard time finding comfort on this couch. She was used to working, but she was not used to sparring because she was angry. Anger took a lot out of her it seemed. She wondered if Dastan knew he had a gaze of a man who commanded authority she thought as she met his eyes. She doubted that he knew, but he stared at her with his eyes commanding her to answer.

After clearing her throat she began explain again, "You know that this world has magic, it surrounds us all. I was given a pendant from my grandmother/grandfather that is made of such a magic. I am not going to lie, I am not exactly sure how it works. I do know whoever owns it commands over that magic. It isn't as if the magic is powerful, it is just a link made to whoever I give it to. I gave it to your brother, and every time he touches it, I can feel him. I feel him almost as if he were next to me. Depending on what is going on with him, I can sometimes almost hear his thoughts. "

Dastan nodded this time, understanding just a little more than he had. "So you should be able to feel him? Is he alive Shraga?" he asked desperately. She pulled her bottom lip through her teeth nervously as she continued to hold his gaze.

Her expression fell after a moment of not being able to say the words she needed to say. She had been glad that she could explain it to Dastan and have him understand. Yet now came the hard part of their conversation. She had wanted someone to converse with over this matter and she had been spending a lot of her time with her younger brother-in-law. They had become fast friends. It felt right to speak about it, but it didn't feel right telling him the truth about Garsiv. That truth was that she just didn't know if he was alive, or dead. Her gut twisted and she felt nauseated. Maybe it had been a mistake bringing this up to Dastan? She was in too deep not to tell him now, especially as his eyes commanded her to speak, again.

"I have not felt him since the day they say he was taken…" she whispered. She was sure that at this moment that she should look sadder than she did. She should be crying as she spoke about it. All she wore though was a sad smile. Her gut twisted again. She wanted nothing more than just to feel the steady pulse of Garsiv's heart, or catch the barest raw thought. She had learned since giving her husband the pendant that he kept more to himself than he shared with others. He had a lot of raw emotions that he didn't share, and she knew some of them now. Her husband had been honest with her thus far, but from that connection she knew what he had really thought when he first found out that he was to be married. He had been furious. Furious to the point that he had almost thought of running away and never looking back. Learning this had wounded her pride, but she had understood, she too had felt the same way.

She also knew now when he first saw her he had wanted nothing to do with her either. He thought she was beautiful, but it was no love at first sight. She fathomed that she had felt the same way when she had first caught a glance of him from the shadows of the palace. She thought her soon to be husband was handsome, but it wasn't love at first sight. She also knew now that since he was away, he had more growing feelings for her than he had when he was here. She figured it was curiosity, because she found herself in the same position of caring for him more now than she actually had when they lived under the same roof. Time had been cruel to them though, they weren't afforded much time spent with each other. It had been very cruel, and now it only seemed to be getting worse.

Dastan hung his head at her words, bringing her back to the situation at hand. She would be blind to miss the tears in his eyes. "I don't know if it means he is not here with us anymore. But I do not know what of him, I really don't. I wish for nothing more for him to be alive, but I don't know," she said as she lay a hand Dastan's shoulder. He shrugged her off and then looked up at her.

"He is alive, I know it. Even if you can't feel it I can. The magic between brothers is stronger than whatever magic you gave him. We are brothers! I know he is alive. You wouldn't know because you are just his wife!" he spat at her.

His words pained her. She didn't let him know that though. She was too strong for him to see that. She simply nodded and looked away from him to hide the pained look in her eyes. He was scared, she knew that, so he spoke out of fear. Yet even thought she understood this too well, it still hurt. She knew that she was just his wife. Even better she knew that she was his untouched wife who would have nothing in this world she lived in now, if he died.

Her eyes fell to the horizon. The sun was setting in the distance. The view was beautiful from her room. She hoped that somewhere Garsiv was looking on the same horizon, and she hoped that he knew that she was there in spirit with him. She closed her eyes and tried for the thousandth time to will him to just touch the pendant. Nothing, as always. Her heart dropped into her stomach. She wished she would have left that day to try and find him instead of doing as Dastan asked.

"Shraga, do you think he could have dropped the necklace? Or someone stole it from him when they took him?" asked Dastan, drawing her attention back to him.

"Anything is possible. I would not know if someone took it away from him. I can only feel Garsiv through the bond. If someone took it, I would not feel them," she explained. She hoped that was the reason that Garsiv lost the pendant, or it was taken from him. But thinking such things didn't make her gut untwist. It would be nice to think that he was on his way home, but she had her doubts. She nervously ran a hand through her hair as she made eye contact with Dastan. He looked more hopeful than her. That made her hear sink into her stomach.

She should have more faith, but she wasn't one to give into faith. She wanted to, but she had always been let down when she put her hopes into faith. She didn't want to get her hopes too high and then it happen again. When her grandfather died she had hoped he would come back from his assignment and tell her all about it like he always did, she had sat on the sand dunes, watching to the west, waiting. He never returned. They found his body a few miles from the tribe. Her father had explained that he died from heat exhaustion. She later found out that another Hassansin killed him. She was young when he died so her father had tried to soften the blow. She didn't want something like that to happen to Garsiv.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He was starting to realize the man who sat in the high backed wooden throne was the King of Scythia. At first he had just thought that this man was the commander of the Army. He was in a way in awe that this man was like his father, rode with his army. But by the looks of it, he had not fought with his army, which made Garsiv's awe dissipate. His own father always fought alongside the army. He didn't sit back and wait for his men to return to him. His father was a man to respect, not this barbarian king who just let men die for him than to die beside them.

It had been a month now since he had been taken, and he found that he was no closer to figuring anything out because he did not speak their language. He did not recognize the scenery as they traveled either. All he knew was they were headed northwest. He might not know the scenery but he knew the stars enough to know that they traveled northwest.

Everyday they traveled, and always in this direction. And every day he was forced to walk tied behind the King of Scythia's horse. He was humiliated by this treatment, but he tried his hardest not to let it show. He held his head high and let the treatment continue because there wasn't much he could do. He just did what he was bid, and took the torture like any Prince of Persia would. All he could do was look towards the day he could exact his revenge on these barbarians.

The first few days had been the worst as he was tied behind the horse. The king made hard to break Garsiv in those first few days. He had ridden his horse at a swift trot and dragged Garsiv for miles. He had run behind the horse for as long as his legs could hold out, but he eventually couldn't keep on. His right leg gave out first as a severe cramp traveled up his thigh and he fell to the ground faster than he thought he would. He fell to the ground and was dragged through the harsh terrain of where they were. His body was bounced around against rocks, lacerating him in a few places, and bruising him harshly in others. After the first hour he was sure his arms had been pulled out of their sockets. Yet after that first hour he had blacked out, and welcomed the darkness that surrounded him.

He only woke later lying on the ground with a few soldiers twisting his arms back into place, and laughing the entire time they did so. When he opened his eyes for those few agonizing minutes that he could, he saw the soldier standing above him wearing the necklace that Shraga had given him. This man had taken it away from him the first day that he could get his hands on it. Garsiv reached out and tried to touch the pendant but couldn't.

Anger had touched every fiber of his body when he couldn't reach the pendant. He wanted to feel Shraga one last time because the last time just wasn't enough for him. He fell short from reaching it by a few inches. Because his arm was so swore he couldn't stretch those few inches to reach. It was killing him on the inside not to be able to attain the pendant for only a moment.

Garsiv looked at this man and made sure he committed him to memory. When he tried his escape, this man would be the first man he killed. The only problem was when he tried his escape a week later it had got him nowhere. Instead he received lashings that were deep enough to leave scars on his broad back. It had been worse that the next day he had to still run behind the King's horse with seeping wounds and still sore arms. After that, Garsiv was broken completely.

Now a month later he stood in the King's tent serving the man his meals. The King sure had a way of embarrassing Garsiv. Garsiv, over the month, had become the personal slave to the King. Garsiv waited patiently for his orders like an obedient dog. He may be broken, but he knew one day that he would have his vengeance. His eyes narrowed into slits as he stared at the back of the King's head. He would try to kill this man if there weren't four guards standing near at attention. They wouldn't hesitate to hurt him.

He knew they would not kill him. This he knew because he was not valuable dead. He was only worth anything to these people with a pulse. He inhaled deeply. He was trying to quell his anger. It didn't work. He was furious, and he would stay this way until he was able to kill them. He looked over and saw the man with his pendant. He would cause a ruckus just of have the man close enough to grab the pendant.

Last time he had tried he had received the butt of a spear to his temple, knocking him out instantly. He had come to realize no matter what it was as if forces worked against him every time so he couldn't at least let his wife know in some way that he still lived. Shraga… He breathed a silent sigh and turned his eyes away from the King.

What would she be doing right now? Would she be crying for him to return safely? He doubted it. Would she be sharpening a sword, readying herself for battle? More than likely. It brought a smile to his face to think that she would be ready to kill for his sake. This time he sighed louder, drawing the attention of a guard. The man gave Garsiv a sneer that silently said "don't make me hurt you". Garsiv looked away from the man, not wanting to start something over nothing.

He missed his family, he missed them dearly. But he missed Shraga the most. He wondered what he missed about her. It wasn't like he really knew who she was. They had not been afforded enough time to get to really know each other. They hadn't even had sex yet. Maybe he missed the unknown about her. Where at first he had been enraged about having to marry her, after a week of being married he had warmed to the idea. Getting to know his wife was actually in some way like reading a book and wondering what would happen next.

He wondered what would happen next with Shraga. He wondered a lot of things. It wasn't as if he had forgotten either that he wanted to know about that desire he had felt through the pendant. He chewed his lower lip as he thought. He knew it wasn't the first thing he would talk about when he first saw her. But he would ask her. And for some reason, he knew she would tell him the truth. He didn't know why he trusted her so much, but he did.

The first thing he would do when he saw her was kiss her. He didn't want to speak, he just wanted to feel her soft lips on his. He wondered if this need to see his family and Shraga again was the reason that he had broke so easy. It had to be. He was not a man who would easily become a slave for any other reason. He would rather fight against these men until his last breath. Yet here he stood like a servant. Damned near like a handmaiden. This thought made his blood boil about being a handmaiden.

He counted backwards so he could clear his mind of angering thoughts. He knew that this was reason he didn't fight. He wanted not to just see his wife; he wanted to see the rest of his family. He wanted to talk to Tus about military strategy again. He wanted to spar with Dastan. He wanted to listen to his father tell his stories. He wanted Azada to smile at him like she always did even though she wasn't his real mother. He wanted his half sisters to nag him like they always did. He wanted it all back. He did not want to be standing here. He wanted to be safe in the palace walls with his family.

His thoughts were soon interrupted because the King signaled him to fill his wine glass. Garsiv sneered but stepped forward and filled the King's cup.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

Tus watched as his father's face hardened. They had been searching now for three months, and it seemed that they would never see Garsiv again. Today they had been lucky to stumble across some Scythian scouts. The only problem about the Scythian scouts is that even through the most intense torture they never gave away where Garsiv could be, or even the rest o the army. They hadn't even uttered a word that the Scythians could have Garsiv. His father had them killed when they never spoke. It was dreadful, but this was war.

Tus, his uncle, his father, and three other officers sat in the King's tent. They all stood over a map, staring down at the figures. How hard can it be to find an army? Thought Tus as he looked down at the map. There were many people who made up and army. Certainly an army should have been found by now, but it still hadn't. Tus felt like they were close though.

It was unfortunate that the scouts hadn't talked, it would have saved them a lot of time if they had. About a month ago the King had doubled his efforts to find his son, as well as became more brutal in the search. They were all determined to find Garsiv, and they would do so through force is what Tus' father proposed. So far it hadn't been working the way they had planned, but Tus had hope.

He had to have hope, for others were losing it daily. His uncle had lost hope a few weeks ago. Even now his uncle suggested that they turn to home because there were bigger issues to worry about. It always gained a hurt look between brothers after he said this. His uncle knew his words cut, but he said them because there was a kingdom to run that had gone three month's without a ruler. He was still king, but it was hard to rule his Kingdom when he was chasing Scythians all over the continent.

Tus agreed with his father on the situation. He wanted to find Garsiv. He knew it would be hard to rule a kingdom when his family was not whole. Tus had not married and had no children of his own, but he knew if he did he wouldn't stop for anything to find one of his own children. He did not blame his father if it took the rest of their lives to search for Garsiv. As long as they were searching he felt like they were doing something right.

Tus knew, he just knew, that they would find Garsiv eventually, even if it meant killing every Scythian they came across. He knew his father would eventually come to this decision if it started to take too long. Tus whispered a silent prayer and felt as if the Gods told him that everything would be alright. He smiled and then turned his attention back to the next plan of action to find his brother.

Xxxxxxxxxx

It had come to nine months since Garsiv had been taken. Shraga would be a liar if she thought she was becoming used to the idea that Garsiv had died. However he had to live if his family were still looking. She lay in his bed, a habit that she had been holding up since he was taken. It no longer smelled like him, and it no longer offered her the comfort it once had. She sighed and turned over and rubbed the spot on the bed that her husband should be.

She felt empty, but for some reason it felt more than that to her. She was not sure why she felt so empty but she did. Over the last week this feeling at gotten worse. She sat up in bed and let the covers slip off of her naked form. Maybe it didn't help that she was in his room and he wasn't here. She got out of his bed, deciding to go back to her bed. She slipped into a silk robe and tied the sash securely around her waist.

After she finished with the knot she heard the door to the chamber's doors open. She looked up and saw her handmaiden entering the room. Shraga raised an eyebrow when she saw that the woman held two letters in her hand. "Mi lady," whispered the servant as she passed Shraga the letters.

Shraga opened one of them in a hurry. This first one was from Tus. It explained how they had started conquering land, slaughtering men like cattle, to get the attention of the Scythian army that was still running. He also said that he knew that Garsiv was alive because they had no reason to keep running otherwise. It made her heart thunder wildly in her chest to think that he lived and that they would hopefully find him soon. She knew that killing innocent people was cruel but this was war and she above all understood this because she was Hassansin.

Tus promised to bring her husband home at the end of the letter. She couldn't help but smile. It warmed her heart to know that Tus had personally written this letter just for her. She folded the letter neatly so she could keep it and lay it on the desk before she started to open the next letter. She froze she saw her mother's handwriting.

Shraga,

I hate to inform you my dearest daughter, but your father has passed away. It was a sudden illness that took him in the night from this world. I am sorry my sweet, I hope you do come home to see his pyre burn. Zolm has taken your father's place. Offer him a sacrifice in hopes that he will be as strong a leader as your father once was.

Your mother.

Shraga dropped the letter and looked up into the face of her handmaiden. The letter was all formality, but she knew how to read Hassansin undertones. Her father had been slain his sleep like an animal. Zolm had done it, she knew, even her mother knew. There was nothing they could do though. This was the way of the Hassansin's. She wouldn't go see her father burn. It would be a disgrace to watch a slaughtered man burn. If she went she would have to kill Zolm.

Every fiber of her being hurt with anger. It was so deep that she felt tears start to slide down her face. Her husband was in enemy territory, and her father was dead. And she could do nothing about any of it. "Go tell Dastan that I need to speak with him," she whispered as she sat on the edge of the bed and wiped the tears away with the back of her hand. She wanted nothing more than to go back to her real home and kill Zolm. He could have just fought in the tournament like he was supposed to and won. He was a great fighter, he could have led with honor, but instead he killed her father.

She hoped that he came here soon, she would kill him. She would exact revenge for her father. She knew that the chances he showed his scarred face around here again was slim. She touched her lips and cringed. She could not believe that she had kissed him. It made her sick to think she kissed the man who killed her father.

Dastan entered the room, drawing her out of her thoughts. She turned to look at him. Over these last nine months he had grown taller, and more handsome. She had a sisterly love for him and she was proud that he was becoming even a more of a man than he was when she first met him. He stopped though when he saw her tear stricken face. It was a good thing that she had been crying in anger, it made it seem like she actually grieved for her father.

"My father passed away," she whispered as she stared up at him. He sighed in pity, and then instantly put on a hard face because he knew Shraga enough now to know that she was not like normal people. He knew that she didn't want comfort, she just wanted to talk to someone. He also knew now that she didn't want to talk about her father, she just wanted to talk to someone about anything other than the letter that sat heavy in her hand.

"Your brother says he knows that Garsiv is alive. He explains that the enemy is running too hard for them not of have him," she said, instantly changing topics from her father.

She watched as the younger man's face brightened. "I told you he had to be alive, I told you," he said with a huge smile on his handsome face. She smiled back at him and felt that it would be a horrible thing to do to tell him that it still hadn't been confirmed that he lived. It was too pure a moment to squash his hopes.

"What are you going to do when you see him again?" asked Dastan suddenly as he let his eyes happily bore into her. She sat a few moments in silence as she thought. She was a little thrown off from the question, so she didn't know how to answer. She really had not thought about it. She sighed as she held her smile so not to ruin the moment.

"I am going to love him," she finally answered.