So, Memories comes to a close. Thank you to all who read this through. I do feel it's an improvement to the first take on the tale. Please give this version a shot, it's a lot more grammatically correct, haha. Please leave all comments in the review box, any suggestions for the current sequel "The Prophecy" would be appreciated. Thank you all!

Epilogue

The dessert sands whipped violently upon the coming of a storm. Lightning flashed not too far off, along with the rumble of thunder. Two men on horseback struggled against the drifts that stung their faces. The open sand was violent, whipping their faces worse than any lashing ever could. Nature was telling them they shouldn't tread any further. Their hoods and masks offered little protection against the elements, but, it kept the sun from beating down on them.

"Is that it, Bab?" The male on the tan horse inquired, steadying the animal he had been riding. They could not remain in one place for too long. The animals were riled up in such storms. "I don't think we should be here, we should probably go back."

"Don't be such a wuss, no one is telling us to go back. It's a freak storm," Babkak neglected the others whining. "Omar, that's just the place. Smells like home doesn't it?" He deeply inhaled and then exhaled, when he spoke, his voice was jovial with relief. "Agrabah is callin' us back."

"Oh man, isn't the Sultan, like, richer than all of them combined?" Omar asked. The lanky male trembled on his horse. Nervous he was of his surroundings, peering in each and every direction.

"The Sultan is worth more than all of the richest men combined." Babkak sifted through his memory bank at just what their leader said and instructed. "We're to investigate and look for any weak spots for the guys to crack into. Omar, you check the marketplace. I've got the palace. That scepter's gotta be there somewhere. He needs that hand."

Omar nodded and trotted a few steps ahead, only to step on something before the horse backed away slowly. Omar blinked and glanced down. "I think somethin's down there," he said.

"Yeah, sand," Babkak replied and rolled his eyes. "Keep going, I wanna see what's new inside those walls." He could smell the sand, the scents of perfume and spices, all the things that nourished the walls of Agrabah that he could no longer roam. Not since his encounter...

Agrabah used to be home to the duo, a dead opportunity for a future. They were two poor boys, threatened by everyday life. They couldn't eat without being scolded and food was hard to come by. Babkak enjoyed food, and Omar was too timid by the guards. Agrabah offered nothing. They plotted and schemed and each turned empty without promise.

Omar, too intrigued by his own curiosity, slid off of his horse and approached just what the horse had nearly crushed. It was solid; it didn't feel like any block of sand that was ready for the oncoming storm. He was determined to see just what lied beneath.

"Omar, this is a waste," Babkak groaned. "We're on a time limit here." Babkak had little patience for things that held no benefit. Omar's declaration of exploration had him perturbed and irritated.

Glaring at Babkak's urgency, Omar nudged the object with his foot. Yes, he confirmed it was solid and this object was also soft. Pausing, Omar began to dust sand away, finding dark strands poking out from beneath the white sandy layer. "I-I think it's a person!" He stammered his heart beginning to race. What if this person is still alive? He picked up his pace, wanting resolution to his busy mind. He would tear the grains if he could. Now fabric came through, then a hand. Burnt, but it was a hand regardless. "Babkak, help me!"

The thicker male shifted his gaze away from the palace and to the half exposed body from the sandy grave. He dismounted his horse and kneeled down. "Well, I'll be damned. It is a person." Refusing to waste time, he slid his hand beneath the body and tugged it until it emerged, sand falling from either side and pooled from her hair. Upon examination, he identified this form to be female. Probably a whore put out to pasture. Such a pity, but it happened occasionally. That was Arabia's brutality for you.

"Is she…alive?" Omar squeaked out.

Without answering, Babkak raised the female's chest to his ear, and listened for some type of pulse. He lowered her back to waist level. "She's alive, but barely." Her breath was soft, yet shallow. She needed some type of attention and quickly.

"We should take her back with us to Cassim. He'd know what to do!"

"She's probably some whore, Omar. Happens all the time." He debated on whether to waste his time. Chances were she could die on the way there and then what? He would listen to Omar's hysterics on the woman dying.

"Babkak, we took an oath-" Omar was cut off. The male huffed, frustrated at Babkak's nonchalant behavior in regards to a living being. Death happened, this was true. But, Omar was taught to have respect for the living, especially women. If he could help her, then damn it, he would.

"And we've had women in our beds before." However, Babkak turned and took the female to his horse. If this girl was a whore, she was awfully pretty. He thought whoever had done this had to be some type of fool. But, he suspected batting eyelashes only got someone so far.

The whipping sands simmered and the thunder suddenly stopped. Something inside of Babkak reasoned with a change of heart. Something inside told him that he couldn't leave her. "Well, whatever happened…yeah, alright, let's take her back."

Omar let out the breath he had been holding. He knew the girl would be safe now. If she had a pulse, she had a chance. He was curious of her story and where she came from. Looks like Agrabah would have to wait. Omar helped Babkak saddle her so she laid in Omar's lap, leaving her in his care. The dark haired woman was a mystery, but they would just have to wait until she woke before they would hear of her anecdotes. Babkak had a heart, even though his lips were laced with vulgarity. But, he supposed that's what being a member of the Forty Thieves did to you.