Well now. Geeze. If you guys are wondering why I've pulled off a silent act for like the past two weeks, then head on over to my profile which'll lead you to a link that goes to my deviantART journal which explains it all. Short version: my internet blew up. But, while it did, I spent basically all my time writing two things: part two to this, and part two to Faithless Believer. I absolutely LOVE how this story came out--it's an epic written in 6,100 words and it's honestly the best thing I ever wrote. Yeah, I know, I said that with Faithless Believer, but this gets the title now.
Anyway. I'll be honest, I had writers block for a while when I tried to write this, and I had to restart it twice because I didn't like how it came out. This part came out AMAZING, however, and the funny thing is the first bit was written while I had writer's block. Anyway, this takes a completely different direction than the first part, but for the better! Kinda influenced by Rush's instrumental "The Main Monkey Business", and I seriously suggest listening to it for this story. Always made me think of a battle going on between humans and some superior force. Also, I'd like to give a huge thanks to my reviewers for your suggestion and support; I hope you like this addition as much as I! Anyway...
Disclaimer: I didn't create the Prince of Persia and you guys know that, but if I did I'd tell people to stop complaining and open your freakin' eyes on the 2008 game. I'd go into a whole rant about this, but that'll be the size of an essay.
Rating: Hate to say it, but because of this part, I'll have to rank up the rating to T for blood and gore this time. The gore isn't that bad, so unless you're super, super squeemish (which I am when it comes to movies and real-life gore, yet video games and art doesn't bother me), you should be fine.
Author's Note: Does the Hunter have a chain attached to his blade? It's been a really, really long time since I've played Prince of Persia (the most I've done in the past whenever is go light seed hunting, but gave up), so I can't remember if he did or not. YouTube was out of the question for reference since my internet blew up like I said, but the concept art had a chain, so I dunno. Please excuse the mistake if he's not supposed to have it.
The first thing the Prince felt was the pain that shot up through his ribcage, forcing his breaths to come in a staccato and tightening his muscles with the sudden lack of oxygen. A pounding headache was the next thing that slammed onto his thoughts, thanks to that stupid hideous screech that rang out from the Hunter, which tore at his eardrums. The Prince's vision was blinded by the blue glow that swirled around Elika, which usually didn't bother him but for some reason his body suddenly became sensitive to it. He refused to let the thought slip into his mind, but his subconscious blamed it on that injury that cursed his body.
"Are you alright?" Somehow the Prince was able to make out the words that Elika weakly threw at him as she kept her vision focused on the Hunter. The Prince winced as the pain finally stopped its circulation, although that didn't stop him from placing his freehand around his side. The scarf was doing a good job in preventing the blood from seeping out, but the Prince added pressure to the wound anyway. The cold metal of the gauntlet seeped through the fabric and stung his wound, but the rest of his body was already too cold due to the corruption to even notice.
The Prince kept his jaws together, his teeth grinding as he responded to Elika with a simple, "Yeah". The pain that circled through his body changed his mind, however, and he realized he couldn't fool himself or Elika with hallow words. "I mean, no," he corrected. The Hunter threw his arms behind his shoulders as he let out another irritating screech, as if disagreeing, taunting, celebrating the Prince's injury. The Prince couldn't exactly figure out which reason it was, but now really wasn't the time to care.
Elika stood beside the Prince in a defensive position, keeping true to her word of refusing to let the Prince fall. She quickly glanced at him only for a moment as she replied, "Then let me take care of this."
"No, Elika, wait!" Elika seemed confused at the Prince's cry, which forced her to drop her guard for a moment as her mind switched emotions. She gave him a quick look that the Prince interpreted as the usual "What are you doing?" look that he often gave to her. Elika snapped her attention back to the Hunter, whom was stomping back and forth, tendrils of corruption spewing from his feet and onto the frozen ground before quickly fading. He seemed to be waiting for the duo to attack first, while Elika thought the other way around.
The Prince tried to keep his voice at a low tone, but he wasn't even sure if the Hunter could even understand them in the first place. He kept his attention on the Corrupted being ahead of him, but slightly moved his eyes so he could see Elika. "Look, I'm already injured, and the Hunter knows that," he began. "From what I know about this bastard—which I'm sure you know more personally than me—he'll just keep coming at us until I'm dead. That's why you need to go to the Fertile Ground and heal this land before he kills us both."
"What?" Elika shouted to him as the Hunter let out another vicious, deafening growl. She quickly flashed her face at him before switching her attention back, and the Prince was able to notice that her eyes were widened and her brows were raised with shock at the idea. "You're crazy!" she continued, the Hunter now ending his screams for the moment. "What makes you think you can fight him in your condition?"
"I never said I could," the Prince countered back, attempting to take a step forward towards Elika. The pain shot through his chest once again, although this time it was toned down since his muscles were hardly being used at the moment. "Elika, please, just go! If you don't heal the Fertile Ground, then we're both dead!" He looked at her with desperation in his glowing eyes, his tone urging her to obey. The Hunter let out a soft growl, and the duo began to suspect that he was getting impatient and was ready to attack at any moment now. The Prince raised his gauntlet away from the wound and twitched his fingers, the metal claws reflecting the cyan glow of Elika's powers. "When I attack him, you run off." He didn't give her a chance to agree.
"Go!" the Prince shouted, as he ran towards the Hunter. Elika finally allowed the plan to slip into her mind and ran off, both curses and nervousness about the Prince skipping into her thoughts.
The Prince's steps became weak as he approached the Hunter, due to the pain shot that through him once again. He refused to let it get to him, however—he needed to make sure that the Hunter didn't spot Elika, or else they'd both be doomed. With a war cry, the Prince slashed his sword in a diagonal pattern across the Hunter. To his surprise, however, the Hunter had dodged it with unthinkable speed—before the metal had even touched his corrupted skin, he had already sent himself into the air via a powerful jump, landing with a loud thud right behind the Prince. The Prince quickly circled around to see his opponent, and was luckily in time to stop what would have been the Hunter's blade driving into his chest by deflecting it with his sword. The Hunter screeched, angered by his failure to kill his opponent. The Prince allowed a smirk to slip up his lips, but did not bother to taunt his enemy, as he normally would during a fight. There was no reason to get him even more angered, especially while the Prince had that stupid gash crippling him.
The Prince took advantage of the Hunter's little tantrum and once again slashed at him in a diagonal pattern, and this time was successful in striking him. The Hunter allowed a screech of pain to slip out of his fanged jaws, placing a mutated hand onto the wound that was invisible beneath the corrupted tendrils that laced together to form his skin. The Hunter then tossed his chained three-bladed weapon at the Prince, although he did not open the sides to reveal the middle blade. The Prince quickly raised his gauntlet to block this, allowing the weapon to crash onto the metal plates on the front of his hand. The impact jerked his arm back into a position that his bones could not follow and forced him to fall down backwards in order to prevent his arm from braking. Once on the ground, the Prince quickly twitched his hand to make sure it was intact; when all of his digits gave a successful wiggle, he jumped to his feet and pointed his sword at the enemy.
His muscles were unable to take the motion, however. As soon as the Prince had jumped back to his feet, his chest screamed with pain as stinging heat ripped through his blood, forcing oxygen into his vocal chords and transforming into a yelp. The Prince's muscles gave way to the pain and his body collapsed face-first onto the frozen ground below, chilling his skin and materializing his breaths as they were let out in weak puffs. The Prince could hear the Hunter taking advantage of his crippling moment, and leapt into the air as he attempted to pounce onto his opponent. The Prince quickly pushed his body over and did a roll so that he was now on his back, yet he was shocked to know that somehow the Hunter had still managed to reach him. His breath was forced out of his lungs as the Hunter pounded onto his ribcage, the tendrils from his feet swarming around the Prince's body and making his mind feel numb with depression and the loss of his humanity. The Hunter stepped onto the middle of the Prince's chest, leaned his weight onto his foot so that the Prince was unable to break free, and raised his weapon right above his prey's head, all three blades revealed and ready to be driven into his neck.
Elika's feet created a strong and fast-paced beat as she ran across the frozen ground. The Fertile Ground was far ahead of her; she needed to use at least three plates in order to get there, but with the way the land had been morphed with the corruption around, those plates were now inaccessible. While she was familiar with the land—after all, this was her home—she was forced to think of a new way of navigation as her paths were now either broken or blocked.
During their past tries to heal the lands, Elika had noticed that there were plenty of plates scattered around the area—some far enough to not be seen with the eye, not while they were inactive, at least. Now the plates radiated a strong wisp of energy, striking color into the otherwise bleak landscape. Based on these observations, Elika knew that there had to be more plates around that would lead her in an alternate route to the Fertile Ground, but first she had to find them.
Elika skidded to a stop as a new obstacle appeared ahead of her—a chasm that was once crossable by a wooden bridge had become nothing but an empty gap. The splintered support beams that normally held the bridge were the only things that still remained. Elika took advantage of this.
She leaped forward and grabbed the wooden beam, feeling the rough texture on her naked hands. Elika quickly crept to the other side of the beam where she then launched herself forward once again, grabbing another beam that was ahead of her. She did this one more time until she finally landed on the solid ground. Elika could hear a soft humming and a strong feel of energy circled around her body. Her brown irises looked up and caught sight of one of the plates, alit with a halo of red light. Elika let a quick feeling of relief slip into her mind—it was a Step of Ormazd plate, which were parallel to the Hands of Ormazd plates in its fast speed. A ring that was normally used to hang decorative flags had revealed itself beneath the plate. The plate itself was out of jumping or wall run reach, but the ring wasn't. Elika quickly planned out her path—she would run along the wall, grab the ring to help her up, and use the plate to see where it would take her. There was only one place it could—the Fertile Ground. Elika ran ahead and jumped onto the wall, knowing that she could not waste any time for both hers and the Prince's sake.
The cold metal of the three-bladed weapon screamed for the Prince's blood as the Hunter was prepared to drive it into his body. Before he could, however, the Prince suddenly whipped his gauntleted hand in front of him in an attempt to strike the Hunter. Luckily, he just barely managed to scratch the empty hand of his opponent. The pain was only enough to simply make the Hunter flinch, but that was all that the Prince needed. The Prince lashed his sword towards the Hunter, although to his disappointment it was slower than his usual attacks due to the position his body was in. In order to dodge the sudden attack, the Hunter leapt off the Prince and landed a few feet in front of him. The Prince used the moment to quickly push himself back onto his feet. The gash still pained him, although the screams of his muscles had quieted down to mutterings.
"You just won't die, will you?" The Prince released the question with irritation striking his tone. The Hunter let out another scream that was a mix of taunting, agreeing, or many other things, just as he had done so before.
The Prince's breaths came in deep, fast breaths. This fight was taking more energy than he thought he needed—once again, his subconscious blamed it on the wound. In order to at least catch his breath, the Prince switched his sword into a defensive position, which allowed him to move faster. He wasn't entirely fond of the idea, but he knew it was the only way to regain at least a little ounce of energy before continuing the fight. The Hunter seemed displeased. He began to walk towards the left; the Prince, already paranoid, believed this was an attempt to attack, so he started to walk towards the right. The two went through what seemed as an endless circle, both of them refusing to take their pair of blue eyes off of the other's. Finally, the Hunter grew too restless to continue the Prince's game.
The Prince leapt towards the side as the Hunter threw his chained weapon at him, the side blades opened to reveal the deadly middle one. The Prince rolled across the ground and quickly got to his feet after his leap, but the maneuver had demanded too much for him and his body once again had a violent spasmodic shiver with stinging heat. The Prince tried to conceal his pulsating nerves behind gritted teeth and squinted eyes while he attempted to grab the wound as grunts slipped out from his lips. Through blurry vision, the Prince caught sight of the black blob that was the Hunter, whose size was increasing so suddenly…
Anticipating the attack, the Prince held his sword in a defensive position, just in time for the Hunter's strike. His thick blade met with the long sword of the Prince in a burst of glowing orange particles, whose lifespan lasted but a few seconds before disappearing. The Prince coughed and moaned as the attack rattled his bones, but the Hunter was nowhere near sympathetic for him. With a quick move of the Hunter's muscles, the blades met each other once again, although this blow seemed to have more brute force behind it. The Prince wasn't sure if that were because his muscles were weakening or if the Hunter was putting in a large amount of effort in attempt to kill the Prince with this blow. The Hunter gave no pause as he lifted his blade and clashed it with the Prince's again—unfortunately, the Prince's muscles were so shaken that they gave way once their weapons collided. The sword flew out of the thick fingers of the Prince, who flinched and began to show signs of panic within his pupils. The now nearly-defeated warrior could just hear the silent laughter of the Hunter as his prey's life was now easy to take. The Corrupted being suddenly bashed the Prince's stomach with his inhuman fist, sending both physical and mental pain into the Prince's mind. The Prince flew back onto the earth, his head colliding hard with the stone and stirring his thoughts around so that they were incomprehensible, leaving him exposed for the moment…
The red glow of the plate temporarily impaired Elika's vision as the extraordinary amount of energy flowed through her veins. It lasted only but a few seconds, but with this borrowed power she launched herself from the crimson plate and shot through the frozen air. With this energy, Elika was able to sense a trail that was the same energy that fueled her powers, leading off into the distance. Her body had to follow it—it was an automatic reaction for her. The trail suddenly stopped after a moment, and the energy left Elika's body as she clashed onto one of the natural stone walls of the corrupted land. Quickly looking up, Elika noticed another Step of Ormazd plate, and before gravity could take her she ran up the wall and reached the plate. Once again, the energy overpowered her mind and sent her flying towards another direction, hopefully closer to the Fertile Ground.
Elika's feet loudly patted against the floor as she made her landing from the plate's trip. The invisible trail had led her to a wooden platform, painted with dark spots of corruption and sun-bleached blue. She quickly scanned her surroundings and noticed that she was all the way on the other side of the land, far from the Fertile Ground. Elika took no moment to hesitate—there had to be another plate here, and if she didn't find it soon she was almost certain the Prince would fall victim to the Hunter's blade.
Elika noticed another platform ahead of her, and not too far from that a faint glisten of what was most likely another one of those decorative rings on the corner of the natural stone wall. That path was her only choice.
Her footsteps drummed a steady beat as Elika ran across the stone wall once she reached the end of the wooden platform. She realized that the platform ahead of her was out of running reach, so as a last attempt she pushed herself off from the wall. Her body went into a freefall for a mere second before she clashed with the wooden floor of the platform. The wood let out an odd noise as though it was under enormous stress, and Elika gasped once a loud crack had entered her eardrums and the platform began to shake. Not wasting any time, Elika ran from the crumbling wood and launched herself into a wall run once again. She quickly grabbed the ring at the corner of the stone with one of her naked hands and swung her body around. Her vision caught sight of her next path: more wooden support beams that were now relieved of their original duties. Once Elika had reached a close enough distance, she kicked herself from the wall and grabbed the support beam. Turning herself around, she noticed that the next beam was out of jumping distance. At least, normal jumping distance.
Elika took a deep breath as she launched herself from the beam. Once she began to feel gravity catching up with her, she released a sudden burst of energy that surrounded her body in the form of a blue light and allowed her body to float over towards the beam. Once her naked palms had caught the feeling of rotting wood, the blue glow disappeared from her body and Elika continued her way. After another jump, Elika landed on a stone ledge that was covered in overgrown grass. The next plate was right above her head, but to her dismay it was a Wings of Ormazd plate. The trail of energy that this certain type of plate gave off often went into many directions, and it was impossible for Elika to cut off the trail—her senses forced her to follow the surging energy. But she couldn't waste any time worrying about that right now. Elika ran up the wall and reached the plate, the energy pulsating through her mind once again.
A war cry was about the only thing the Prince's mind managed to grasp as his thoughts slowly collected themselves. His mind was hazy, but his eyes soon snapped to attention once he pondered the odd cry—the Hunter had leapt into the air, his three-bladed weapon ready to strike into the Prince's warm heart. Just before the cold metal could reach the warmth of his blood, the Prince rolled out of the way. His actions were followed by a loud CHINK! as the Hunter's three blades collided with the stone ground. The sharp sides of the weapon had planted themselves into the earth, although by the looks of it, it wasn't embedded that deep. The Prince quickly glanced around to try and find his sword, thinking that now was the perfect opportunity to do so and hopefully attack the Hunter if he were lucky. Knowing that he could easily create another circulation of intense pain by scurrying up, the Prince carefully lifted himself to his feet. He felt a little pain prick at his side, but nothing that would end his muscles' functions. The Hunter screeched once he noticed the Prince's motions, but was currently too busy trying to disengage his weapon from the ground to do anything.
Or at least, that's what the Prince thought.
The Prince let out angered shouts as a sudden black blob had smacked his face and leaked into his eyes. He knew this to be a typical attack of the Hunter, and usually it didn't create such a big problem as he still had Elika to protect him while he wiped the spots away from his eyes. But this time he was alone, and every action had to be of his own thinking and senses. With a groan, the Prince yelled, "Hey, that's cheating!" towards the Hunter, not really caring if he heard it or not. The Prince quickly tried to wipe the strange glob of ink away from his eyes, but his vision had only worsened. It was blurry and nearly completely black, mainly because he had to keep his eyes in a squint to prevent the ink from invading his irises. He knew from past experiences that he could either block the incoming attacks from the Hunter and wait for the ink to fade away—which was a stupid idea since he did not have his sword to provide a proper defense—or attack the Hunter. If he managed to get a good hit at him, the corruption around his eyes would suddenly disappear. Taking a deep breath, the Prince decided it was worth a shot.
Without his sword, the Prince had nothing but his gauntlet and his own sheer strength to depend on. His eyes could barely make out the black figure highlighted in blue markings, and with a battle scream he ran towards it. As soon as he was in short distance with the Hunter, he reached his gauntleted-hand out and brought it upwards to the air, hoping it would connect with the Hunters unnatural, black skin.
The Prince felt relieved once he felt his claws dig into the Hunter's dirtied orange clothes. His opponent let out a yelp as a wave of heated pain suddenly shot through his body, and the ink spots that corrupted the Prince's vision had quickly faded away and presented him with his near-perfect vision that he had before. The weight of the Hunter felt unusually overloading, however—his muscles were too weak to even attempt to lift the Corrupted, and the Prince bit his tongue once he realized that the Hunter had decided to act.
The Prince watched in gaping horror as the Hunter suddenly slammed his prey's forearm with his elbow, sending an enormous amount of throbbing pain into the Prince's skin and forcefully removing the thick claws from his tendril-laced flesh. The Prince shouted with frustration, pain, and defeat, especially when he realized that his muscles refused to act to his will when he tried to move his arm. Now hiding his emotions behind stuttering grunts, the Prince grabbed his arm with his freehand and dragged his feet behind him, trying to move away from the Hunter. He wasn't sure if the bone in his arm was fractured or not, but either way it was too severely injured to be used.
Great. Now he had no gauntlet to use, and only one arm to fight with.
His sword. It was the only thing that could save him now. The only thing that could end this.
The Prince's blurry sapphire irises shifted from one side of the ground to the other, trying desperately to pick up any sign of his weapon. He turned his attention to behind him, and his eyes were barely able to pick up something that glistened faintly in the darkened sunlight of the corrupted world. It was his blade.
The Prince felt relieved to know that the sword wasn't too far away from where he currently stood and didn't hold any noticeable damages, yet his injuries gave him far too much of a disadvantage. He tried to remind himself that the point wasn't to beat the Hunter—it was to provide a distraction. "Come on, Elika, heal the land already," he muttered under a weak breath, keeping his injured arm in a firm grip. A small thought about how he'd have to use his other scarf…wherever that went…as a sling for his arm slipped into his mind, but it quickly exited as he focused himself on his new objective.
The Prince span around on his heels, not paying attention to the Hunter's disapproving screeches as he ran towards his sword. The stinging, throbbing pain within his muscles had increased in its intensity, however—every step he took, the Prince was forced to let out a yelp as he received a shock of burning heat throughout his body. He tried not to let it get to him, but he found himself approaching his sword more slowly with every little step he managed to take. That's when the Prince suddenly felt something cold and hard slap around his ankles.
"No, no, no!" The Prince screamed the few simple words with desperation easily recognizable in his cracking voice. His body had fallen over face-first, back onto the frozen ground below. The Prince yelped as he landed on both of his wounds—his damaged arm and the gash—and he suddenly felt himself being slowly tugged away from the sword. With the last ounces of energy he had that hadn't been mutated into pain, the Prince reached his arm out and attempted to grab his sword. But his hand was left empty, and his cries were unheard as the Hunter dragged him farther away from his weapon.
The Prince screamed as he felt one of the clawed feet of the Hunter push into his side, ripping the scarf and protruding into the warm blood that slipped out from his wound. The Hunter had pushed the Prince around with his foot so that he was now lying on his back, his terrified eyes looking straight into the hatred-filled, solid blue eyes of the Hunter. The Hunter stomped onto the Prince's stomach, forcing his breath out from his lungs and making him cough. The Prince could hardly see, but he noticed that the Hunter had untangled the chain of his three-bladed weapon from the Prince's ankles. In horror, the Prince watched as the cold metal screamed for his blood once again. As a last attempt, the Prince tried to wiggle his way out from beneath the Hunter's weight, but his actions were quickly punished.
With every last ounce of energy, strength, pain, and oxygen his body still contained, the Prince let out such a bloody scream that both beings were almost certain it could be heard all throughout the kingdom. An intense amount of stinging, burning, throbbing pain had shocked itself right into the Prince's chest, spewing blood from his body and straight onto both the victim and the predator's faces. The blood that spilled onto the Prince's cheek brought him a prickly feeling of cold and bitterness as he felt the life in his veins slowly drift away—forgotten, buried, and lost beneath the pain that protruded from his chest. The blood that splashed across the Hunter's face, however, seemed to bring a welcomed feeling of victory. But he didn't seem to be finished.
The pain within the Prince's chest had renewed itself as the Hunter suddenly opened the side blades of his weapon and revealed the middle blade, all while still within the warmth of the Prince's bloody body. The Prince let out another scream, possibly louder than before, as the blades pushed aside his flesh and bone and created deep lacerations that acted like canals for the fresh blood that poured out from his body. Just when the Prince was almost certain that his body had contained enough pain to remove the life from his mind, the Hunter began to twist the three-bladed weapon, slowly churning the Prince's blood, flesh, muscles, and bone into a bloody pulp.
And that's when the light appeared.
The Prince was certain that was his unwelcomed death coming to drag him to the depths of hell or oblivion, or wherever his afterlife seemed to fit. But the light brought color into the world, warmth, and happiness… The pain removed itself from the Prince's chest in a quick matter, although his body was already too numb to notice it. The Hunter let out a deafening screech as he suddenly removed his blade and shielded his eyes from the sun, the light, the healed land. With another screech, the Hunter sank into the ground in a puddle of twisting tendrils of corruption, quickly fading away and revealing the grass and flowers that were scattered around.
Then he heard Elika.
The color from his eyes was fading, his blood becoming cold. The princess of the lost land called for him, begging for him to respond. But his numb lips left her with silence. Elika ran towards where she was certain the Hunter and the Prince had taken their battle, and was shocked to lay her eyes on the sight that was presented before her.
"No," she muttered, clasping her hands around her delicate lips. "No, no, no!" She screamed the words with desperation, depression, and tears. "No, don't die on me, no!" Her feet slapped against the grassy stone ground very loudly, although the Prince's fading senses could hardly hear it. Her delicate tan skin scraped against the ground as she skidded to her knees and stopped right beside the Prince.
"Hey." She muttered the word between large gasps for air, large drops of water that poured from her bloodshot brown eyes. "Hey, please, speak to me! Tell me you're alright, please!" She gripped her naked hands around his bloody body, her stomach and mind hardly able to take the sight of the bloody pulp that lay on his chest. She watched as the Prince's lungs hardly moved, his mouth releasing barely audible breaths.
"…Elika?" The word was so weak, so quiet that the Prince was surprised Elika even heard. She suddenly jerked her head and stared into his color-faded irises.
"Yes?" she responded. "Yes, I'm here." She gently lifted his gloved hand and clasped her warm, bloodied hands around it. "I'll always be here." The Prince tried to shift his head to see her, but could barely manage to do so with the little energy his body still contained.
"You did fine…without me." He could barely even speak the words with the little breath his body still contained. "Please…you can beat Ahriman…without me. You must…heal the Fertile Grounds…and save your home." Elika leaned in closer, one of her teardrops landing on the Prince's cheek. "Save all our homes," the Prince finally stated. Then his eyelids started to slip closed…
"No," Elika faintly murmured, gripping the Prince's hand with more strength, more emotion. The Prince's striking irises were no longer visible as his tan eyelids finally slipped closed. "No, please no!" Elika began to shout, sobbing with large gasps in between. She looked up towards the endless blue sky, the beauty of the world seeming to taunt her and her situation. "Ormazd!" She screamed the word into the air, expecting something, anything, to respond back. But all she heard was her own desperate echo. "Ormazd, please, save him! Please!"
All she received was silence.
Elika shot herself up and walked away from the Prince, not wanting to look at his bloody body anymore. Instead, her eyes caught sight of a light seed, which hummed with energy and was encircled by wisps of white light as it gently bobbed in the air. Elika suddenly stopped her sobbing as an idea skipped into her head.
She couldn't waste time. She had to at least try it.
Quickly, Elika ran over towards the light seed. As soon as she touched it, a spike of energy surged through her muscles and made her feel stronger as the orb of light faded. She then scurried over to the Prince, kneeling beside him, her knees now stained with the blood that leaked from his body.
He couldn't die. Not now. Not yet.
Elika looked up towards the sky for a quick second, muttering prayers and pleas to Ormazd before switching her concentration back to the Prince. Her mind was filled with doubts, but she had to try this.
Elika raised her palms above the Prince, her thin fingers spread apart. She closed her eyes, took a deep, relaxed breath, and murmured words of the ancient tongue she spoke in whenever the situation called for her powers. She could feel the energy swarm around her body, her palms left unheated as they began to glow a brilliant hue of blue. The energy continued to circle throughout her veins as she constantly repeated those foreign words, and suddenly she felt energy radiate from the Prince as his body had become encircled with a blue glow, the same as Elika usually had due to her powers. Then everything faded, and the energy stopped flowing through her veins. Elika opened her eyes, biting her bottom lip as her anxiety began to reach into the folds of her brain.
Furious, upset, and filled with defeat, Elika clasped her hands around her eyes as tears began to leak out from her eyelids. Why, why, why? Why didn't it work? Why did he have to die on her, so soon and so horribly?
That's when she heard a sudden gasp erupt from the Prince's mouth.
Shocked, Elika opened her eyes, but her vision only caught sight of the Prince's body…still unanimated, still covered in blood.
But wait. His flesh, his bones…they were healed. Blood no longer rolled down his body, his shattered bones and torn muscles no longer lay in a bloody heap on his chest, his flesh had suddenly mended itself together.
The Prince opened his eyes.
His breath came in stutters, deep staccatos that soon transitioned into coughing fits. It only lasted mere seconds, however, and the Prince had lifted his spine so that he now sat upright, his gloved hand pounding on his chest to stop the coughing. Once it had, the Prince quickly glided his hand across his chest, expecting to run into lacerations, gashes, protruding bones, anything.
"…how?!" The Prince had released the word with doubt, excitement, questioning, and happiness. His blurred blue eyes scanned his surroundings, noticing that the corruption no longer took hold of the land. Then he spotted Elika.
Elika was certain her face looked terrible, for the Prince immediately shouted, "Oh Elika, are you alright? What happened?" Elika looked at him, taking a moment to calm herself down by taking deep breaths.
"I don't know," she responded with a weak voice. "I healed the land, I came here, and you were…you were…" She seemed to tremble at the thought, chocking on her words before they had a chance to leave her throat. "You were nearly dead." The Prince took a moment to absorb this, flashbacks and memories quickly re-entering his skull.
"You…you saved me?" he questioned. Elika nodded. She explained to him how it happened, and the Prince was beyond amazed, if not confused. Rising to his feet, he held out a hand, stained by the blood of his old wounds.
"Here," he said, waiting for Elika to grab it. After wiping her eyes, she did, and the Prince pulled her to her feet. "Thank you." Elika fell into the Prince's arms at his words, her muscles weak. The Prince noticed his energy had been rejuvenated, his body no longer screaming with pain and his muscles now able to take the stress of his movements. He gently gripped Elika, being careful with the metals claws around her tan skin. The two removed themselves from each other's embrace after a moment, and the Prince motioned for Elika to get moving with a quick wave of his hand.
"Come on," he said, a smile tugging at his lips. Elika silently nodded to acknowledge his wish. The Prince turned around, once again ready to face the dangers of what lied ahead.
"Ahriman doesn't stand a chance," he said to Elika, as the two once again continued their journey, the days ahead now looking brighter with every step they took.
Yay lame ending with a quote from the actual game!
Lot of questions going through my head on this one, which I unforuntely couldn't ask anyone for an opinion for. Like, was adding Elika's little trip a good idea? and How else can the Prince get thrown around? I hope Elika wasn't too much of a distraction--I added it for suspense, obviously, but I also wanted to show you guys that she's a person too, going through the same troubles. And stuff.
I kinda regretted using the Hunter at first because I wanted the Prince to have a cocky banter with one of the Corrupted, but I realized that it was actually a good idea since he needs Elika for every other fight. The Hunter was the only (kinda) fair fight, so it worked. I wound up using hardly any speech during the fight, but with the way the Prince was devestated like that, it made sense. Oh yeah, and the three-bladed torture scene is actually based on real life events! I'm a Ripley's freak, and on the show once they had a similar three-bladed weapon, and the host said that thieves used to use it in the same matter--they'd stab their opponent in the back, open the side blades while it's still in there, and twist the blade. Wonderful image, huh?
Anyway. Thanks so much for reading this two-parter and your opinions, positive or negative, are greatly appriciated! Keep an eye out for Faithless Believer as well. Thanks again!