Hi, guys! First off, I want to thank my reviewers so, so, so much. You guys are the best, and have seriously given me inspiration to write some more! Obviously, this story's for Prince of Persia, and it was an idea that formed thanks to the void known as Fable II I've been trapped in not too long ago. Believe it or not, this story was inspired just by voices--and I'm not even talking words, I'm talking about just basic grunts and war cries a la Link of Zelda. Translation: Nolan North, the voice actor for the new Prince, is also the voice actor for the male hero in Fable II. I finished the game playing the female hero being good, and I started a new game as the male hero and plan to be evil, but Nolan's voice acting just got me too inspired to write something. Also, "Failure" by The Extreme Piercing inspired this and is one of the BEST fanfictions I've ever read and I HIGHLY recommend you check it out if you love Prince of Persia after-the-end fics.

I am so extremely proud of this story, and even though it only riggs in at two short of 3,500 words, I honestly believe this is one of the best things I have ever written. This was merely just an idea I wanted to try out, but with the way it ends, I'm afraid I might have to extend this into a series! I have bad pasts with series (I'm know for seriosuly getting into things in the beginning and then ditching them soon after) but I honestly think that this story deserves more. We'll see what you guys think! Anyway, let's go on, shall we?

Based on: Prince of Persia (2008. Ubisoft)
Rating: I'd give this one K+ for violence and emotional conflicts, which is my usual.
Author's Notes: Oh crap, I totally forgot to mention this. Have you guys read "Broken", my first Prince of Persia one-shot? I was originally planning to make this a sequel, but that was only because the ending of that story supports this story's setting. I'll call this an indirect sequel--you won't have to read the story in order to get it, all you need to know is that at the end of that story (which was an after-the-end fic), the Tree of Life is restored by Ormazd and Elika lives, and also the Prince's memory of his freeing-Ahirman stuff was erased. Hope that solves some things. If you haven't read it, though, you can completely ingore the third paragraph, which honestly has no significance to the story other than informing you guys.
Oh yeah, the title was inspired by the song "Faithless" by Rush, and the lyrics at the beginning are also from Rush and their song "Different Strings".

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What happened to our innocence
Did it go out of style?
Along with our naivete
No longer a child
Different eyes see different things
Different hearts beat on different strings
But there are times
For you and me, when all such things agree

The time that passed was slow and tedious; each minute dragged on for an eternity, each step seeming as though it had stopped time. The sun had circled around them throughout the day, seeming to get lost below the horizon, swallowed and eroded by the pain and agony that washed over the bleak land. It didn't matter what position the sun took as it watched over them—the heat was still the same no matter what, and it made each step even more painful.

Elika wasn't used to this, and it was easy for the Prince to tell. His skin was already hardened by weather, calluses and countless scabs and probably other injuries that he was hiding the memories of or that were currently trying to fix themselves. It felt so odd to be traveling through the desert now that it had been reverted back to its state before the corruption spread—the cold, icy air and colorless landscape had been replaced with the extreme heat and the endless tan sea of sand. Their bodies were still removed of their strength and patience as they were when it was nothing but corrupted land, and Elika figured that was just how the desert felt naturally.

She never informed the Prince of what had happened to him. Then again, she didn't believe it exactly was a good idea in the first place. She couldn't image how the Prince would feel about it—guilty, sympathetic, maybe even afraid? Fear of his reaction held her back—it didn't matter if the outcome was actually positive or not.

The Prince had convinced her to leave her land. She wanted to stay and protect the temple, but the Prince advised against it. He was right, although it did kill her on the inside to leave her land and her duty, as the others once had. There was no one left in her land to protect her, no one to help her complete her duty. She couldn't just stand around the temple in the desert; she would die. Of hunger, of starvation, by blood or by emotion. The Prince then suggested that perhaps they'd travel to a nearby town and stay there. Maybe—and the Prince didn't believe this at all and simply tossed hollow words at her—they would be able to find the Ahura, those who left. If there even were any. Elika doubted it, but now that she knew of Ormazd's undetectable presence above their heads, the idea wasn't exactly that insane or improbable. The Prince was still unaware of this, and his heart and thoughts remained faithless—although, as she had learned throughout their travels in that one day, he was too stubborn to convince otherwise.

Sweat trickled down each being's skin as the heat intensity radiated from the bleak ground. The mirages were all around and rippled their vision. It amazed Elika, to see the heat completely warp their vision like that. A sweat drop tickled her fair, burned skin as it ran down. She was beyond exhausted, hot, and pained. The Prince didn't seem to be in as worse of a condition as she was, yet he still had his share.

"Can we…" she needed a moment to catch her breath before she continued, "rest, for a moment?" The Prince continued walking ahead, ignoring Elika for a moment; on purpose or not, it still hurt her to know that he didn't respond.

"I said," she repeated, a little bit of annoyance slipping through her voice, "can we rest for a moment?" The Prince stopped this time, his black mane being picked up by the faint gust that scratched at their cheeks. He spun around to her, and Elika immediately noticed how sunburned his tan skin was, contrasting to his blurry, tired eyes.

"No," he simply replied. "We have to keep moving." He gently twitched his gauntleted-hand ahead of them. Elika frowned.

"Can't we travel at night, or something?" she questioned, wiping the sweat off her brow. "I thought that is what most travelers did." The Prince shook his head.

"Y'see, that's why the world has so many problems," the Prince began, jerking his shoulders and arms around. "Elika, you lived in a perfect world, where nobody ever did anything. No crimes, no danger, nothing to worry about but Ahirman rotting away in that tree." She focused on his sharp eyes as he left her with silence for a moment. "Bandits travel at night and sleep by day. They hide until unsuspecting travelers, like you, pass by their hideouts, because they think it's better to travel at night. Trust me, Elika, it's not." His voice seemed to carry a little hostility, shocking Elika. Such a tone was never present within him before. She looked at him and responded to him in a silent voice, sweat continuing to run down her flesh.

The Prince stared at her for a moment. Then, hastily, he grabbed his scarves and began to unwrap them from his head. He gave the long, tattered blue cloth to her. "Here," he said, flicking his hand at her. "Wrap this around your head. It'll make you feel cooler." Elika nodded and gently grabbed the fabric. Once she had, the Prince placed the red scarf around his head once more. He easily wrapped his around his head, and finished before Elika was even halfway done. The Prince silently waited for her, and when she had finished, they continued their journey.

"How far must we walk?" she pondered aloud, after a few moments of silence had separated the two. The Prince shrugged, although he did not look back at her.

"You tell me, Princess," he replied. "I've never even been near this side of the desert before." Elika looked down at the sand for a moment. The grains constantly burned her exposed feet, making her regret her decision of clothes for the day. She couldn't tell if the Prince felt the same pain as the grains sank into his sandals, although he most likely did. Her feet were probably more used to the pain that nature gave out compared to the Prince, who still kept his beyond-tattered sandals on.

Elika took a look at her delicate skin. What once was a wonderful shade that glowed with health was now replaced by peeling, red skin. She gently placed a fingertip on it, stinging her flesh to the touch.

"Can we at least find some shade to stand in, for a moment?" she questioned. The Prince stopped once again, and spun around to face the princess of the lost land.

"Look around, Elika," he began, spreading his arms out wide and shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Do you see anything we can hide under?" Elika looked around, feeling defeated. The Prince was right, nothing was around—only the mirages that shimmered atop the sandy landscape. She squinted her eyes as the sun gently reflected off of the Prince's clothing. He looked behind one of his raised arms, then at her.

"Here," he said, gently gripping his cape with his gloved hand. "Get underneath this." He removed the cape from his sweaty shoulders, and then handed it over to the royalty before him. Elika stared at the fabric that draped from his thick fingers.

"Thank you," she managed to let out, grabbing the cloth with her delicate hands. She placed the cloak on, and was shocked to know how large it was compared to her small figure. She groped the fabric between both of her hands and enclosed the cape around herself, trying to shield her skin from the harmful rays as best she could. It wasn't exactly anymore comfortable, considering how hot she now felt, but she accepted it.

It was odd to see the Prince missing his signature items like that. He wore some kind of cloth around his chest, although Elika couldn't exactly tell what it was—it could even be a rag that he found while tomb raiding that he made use of as modest clothing. His long mane was now much more exposed without both scarves on, and it did seem to float in front of his face in the gentle breeze, which did little in cooling them down. The Prince spun around after a moment.

"Come on," he muttered through a scratchy throat. "We need to keep going." The princess let out a murmur of agreement, yet did not allow any words to follow.

How long they had traveled after that, they were not sure. The sun was only a slither of light above the horizon now, which made the Prince nervous. Twice did he caution Elika of the coming dangers of the night, from the bandits that silently traveled around to the venomous animals that lurked only in the darkness. Elika had asked if they should stop for the night, but the Prince insisted that they only should do so if they find a shelter or perhaps a nearby cave that they could hide beneath. Elika's body was drenched with sweat, the Prince being no exception. Her muscles felt tight after walking for so long, and her stomach had begun to rumble. It seemed as though the Prince felt the same, although he tried to hide it.

Finally, after what seemed like eons, the two came across an odd shack. It was extremely makeshift and rather small, but the Prince became beyond overjoyed once he noticed what stood next to it. Tacked to a rotting post underneath what looked to be a very fragile breezeway were three donkeys, and he seemed to recognize the middle one as his.

"Farah!" the Prince shouted, running over to the animal with the last ounce of energy that was preserved in his muscles. The donkey twitched her ears as she spun her head around, her eyes nothing but large black orbs. The Prince gently approached the mule and patted her brown fur, praising her and telling her how much he missed her. Elika slowly approached the Prince, her body still wrapped by his cape. This had to be the first time she had ever seen the Prince remove his hand from the hilt of his sword as he practically hugged Farah.

"Hey!" A rather screechy voice, sounding gruff and tired, rang out from the side of the shack. A bald man with a large black beard, stained by the white of old age, stepped out from the side of the shack. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" The Prince removed his attention from his beloved companion and towards the man. He took a quick glance behind him and noticed Elika standing a few feet behind him, her face masked with a look of confusion.

"Where'd you get this donkey?" the Prince asked the old man, who seemed to grunt with disapproval at the Prince's presence. Elika watched as his hand began to hover above the hilt of his sword once again.

"What's it to ya, traveler?" the man spat back as a response. He seemed too involved with the Prince to notice Elika, which she figured was the best for the moment.

"If you really gotta know," the Prince began, stepping away from the donkeys and towards the man, "I lost my donkey yesterday due to a sandstorm, and I happen to know that this is her." He jerked one of his clawed hands at the mule behind him. The man snorted at the Prince's claim. "She also had multiple saddle bags nearly overflowing with my stuff." The Prince's tongue seemed to skip a beat at the last two words, and Elika figured that he nearly told the man about his stashes of gold that used to burden his animal, but quickly changed his wording.

"Huh, yeah! And you really think I'd believe that?" the man spat back. He placed his plump fists against his waist. "That's gotta be the worst attempt I've ever heard from a bandit."

"We're not bandits," the Prince immediately countered. The man then took noticed of Elika.

"Ha!" he let out. "And I s'pose she ain't your slave, neither?" Elika felt her heart tremble at the remark, and anger seemed to jump into the Prince's skull.

"Look, we're tired and we just want to get to the nearest town," the Prince began, trying to sound calm, although it was nearly impossible for him to do so. "And I know for a fact that this donkey happens to be mine." The man let out another snort.

"I don't give a damn. If you want 'er, you'll pay for 'er. Plain and simple."

"I have to pay to get my own donkey back?"

"Look kid, I don't care what happened to you and your ass. You either pay for 'er or you don't, that simple. I ain't doing anything else for bandits like you."

"I already told you, we're not bandits." The last response from the Prince seemed to send hatred into the man's spine.

"That's it, get out!" the man yelled. He seemed to be reaching for something beneath his indigo cloak, which made the Prince grip his sword. The tension within each man was visible as it clung to their facial muscles.

"That's enough!" Elika yelled, running over to the two. The men seemed to have forgotten of her presence, and her voice didn't seem to remind them. Elika watched in terror as the man removed a small knife from his cloak, the metal reflecting what was left of the sun and blinding Elika and the Prince for a moment.

"I've had it with you bandits!" the man screamed, about to strike the Prince with his dagger. The Prince had already begun to unsheathe his sword, but was unfortunately not quick enough to reflect the attack it in time. In horror, Elika jumped between the two, and suddenly a blast of blue light encircled them, causing both men to grunt; although, the man seemed to groan with fear and the Prince with frustration. When the light no longer corrupted their eyes, Elika glared at the man, her hands alit with the blue energy that circled in her blood.

The man could hardly allow any words to form on his tongue. He stepped back, stuttering in fear, and allowed the knife to slip out of his hands and drop onto the sea of sand below.

"Wha…what are you?" the man barely managed to say, his breaths coming in fast intervals due to all the emotion that swarmed his heart. "A…a witch?" Elika continued to glare at him without word. The man just stared at her, the fear beyond recognizable in his eyes. The Prince carefully placed his hand on Elika's shoulder, which made her jump at first, but after a quick glance behind her she calmed down.

The man began to jerk his head from side to side, as though the very presence of the two was tearing apart his soul. The next thing happened so suddenly, it took a moment for Elika to even comprehend it. A sudden gust of wind began to pass by the Prince and Elika, coming from the direction behind the man, whom seemed to take advantage of this. He picked up his knife and kicked the sand ocean underneath him, sending a cloud of the tan grains right into the others' faces. This unfortunately caught Elika by surprise, and for a moment her eyes began to mutter words of pain to her as the grains scratched against her pupils and her skin. Her vision was blurry and she was blinking constantly, but she could somehow make out the basic figure of the man.

Elika could hear the Prince shouting angry words behind her as the man quickly jumped onto one of the donkeys and simply cut the rope that tethered it to the post with his knife. He then quickly cut the ropes of the other donkeys and landed a harsh slap onto each of their sides, flicking his hands and shouting words at them. His donkey then began to run off, and the constant shouts and cries from the other two donkeys, including Farah, flooded each being's ear drums as they ran off.

"Hey!" The Prince shouted the word with all of his might, using all of the oxygen his lungs contained. The man simply ignored this and ran off, the two other donkeys running in a different direction than he was. The Prince's response was nothing but a cloud of dust that softly ran across the surface of the tan sea, echoes of the desperate cries of the donkeys following it.

"Damn it…" the Prince softly muttered. Elika watched as his gloved hand transformed into a fist with tightened muscles, the fingers of the clawed hand twitching with anger and other emotions. The Prince slowly walked back over towards the shed, where Elika currently stood, the blue glow of her magic disappearing beneath her shock.

"Damn it!" The Prince shouted the words with such a loud roar that it made Elika's heart jump, her eardrums still ringing with the hatred that surrounded the voice. The Prince screamed as he slashed the wooden side of the small shed with his gauntlet, and then pounded the same spot with his gloved hand. He began to breathe heavily, and then simply rested his head atop his muscular arm against the wall.

Elika simply stood and watched, too shocked to even begin to think of any words that she could possibly say. In that day she had spent with the Prince, never had she seen him act like that. It was as if all of his anger was released into one blow, which looked as though it would kill a man should anyone be standing in his way.

Something in Elika's heart began to poke at her—she had to at least attempt to comfort the Prince. She wasn't sure if it was even the right idea, but she pushed back the consequences with a gulp. Slowly, she took soft steps towards the Prince, her feet barely making any sound as they softly sunk into the sand.

"Are you—" she tried to ask, but stopped herself once she realized that the Prince had now dropped his arm and was simply staring at the wall. He then turned around, and Elika quickly realized how devastated he was.

"Elika, why did you do that!?" he simply shouted at her. His voice seemed to crack with desperation. "You see what happens when you try to be honest? Huh? Do you!?" Elika was simply shocked at the Prince's reaction.

"I'm sorry," she managed to let out. "I didn't—"

"Sorry?! Sorry doesn't get us to the nearest town!" The Prince began to point into the distance, walking closer to Elika and causing her some discomfort. "Now we're going to die out here because we don't have any way of reaching any city!" Elika bit her bottom lip as her brain had sunken deep into emotion.

"I'm sorry…" she softly said, her eyes squinting. She shook her head as she could feel tears beginning to soak her eyes, which she tried her best to hold back. The Prince noticed this, and suddenly his reactions of anger and hatred were replaced with shock and worry. He watched with widened eyes as Elika tried to fight back her emotions.

"Oh Elika," he murmured, his tone portraying how he regretted his actions. "Oh Elika, I'm so sorry." He quickly swung his arms around the princess, tightly gripping his gloved hand around her and trying not to put too much pressure on the gauntleted-hand. "I'm sorry, Elika. You're right, you didn't know. I should have warned you." He slowly rocked Elika back and forth, feeling a hot tear fall onto his rough skin. "Don't worry, Elika, don't worry. We'll get to a town soon." He loosened his grip to get a look at the princess, whose face was scarlet with emotion and sunburn but otherwise seemed calm. The Prince let a soft smile slip onto his lips.

"Are you ok, Elika?" The tension within his body seemed to calm once Elika's head softly bobbed with a nod. "Alright." The Prince spun his body around as he quickly focused on the sun. The rays were practically gone from the world, and the cold temperature and darkness were coming at them quickly. "Come on," the Prince said, motioning for Elika to follow him as he stepped into the small shed. "We might as well spend the night here. There's no way we're getting anywhere now." Elika quietly nodded and followed the Prince inside, eager to relax her muscles.

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Whoops, almost forgot to add the little footnote here XD;;
Anyway, how was that? Like I said, basic idea I wanted to try out, although it looks like it will become a series. What's going to happen for the rest of this is just a vague idea, but I do plan on having the duo going through a lot. What this idea was mainly about is switching Elika and the Prince's roles--as the Prince was a stranger in Elika's perfect world, she is now helpless against the hardships of the outside world. I hope this story interests you guys, and don't worry, I will be writing for other things too, including part two of "Too Much for the Wounded". Thanks again for reading!