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Persia. A land of past victories. A land of used-to-be sprawling cities and ports. Of vast farmland, equal government, and treacherous mountains. A land of the past. Now the great country and land lay in ruins. The once great cities reduced to unfulfilling villages, strained from the massive refugees who left it’s streets and markets. Ports left empty. Resources, untouched. However, there was to come a time where the fate of Persia would decide the fate of every nation on the globe, from Berlin to Moscow, Babylon to Washington.
Arad rode down the street, unaware of the watching eyes. The black mare he rode, whom he had taken the honor of naming Arsalan, or lion, snorted out the ancient dusty air. The once metropolitan of Susa was now reduced to a small, under populated village of nearly 130,000 residents. The empty buildings, sky-scrapers and wonders of their time, are left unkept. Many were beginning to crumble, leaving rocks stacked among their sides.
From atop the Emericon World Organization Headquarters, or at least the past headquarters, Davood crept over the side to have a good view of the poor wanderer beneath. Raising the sniping rifle to his shoulder, and peering through the eye piece, he steadied his breathing. Saying an ancient prayer to himself, from which he had remembered his great grandfather murmuring, he took aim to the head. Taking in one last grasp, he squeezed the trigger.
The gun made a loud snap through the empty streets and left a white streak through the mist that it traveled. Without knowing what he was doing, Arad unsheathed his sword and by instinct swiped the bullet from the air. He fell to the stone road, creating an echo of the failure.
Davood stood with a large smile upon his face. “Arad, is that you?!” he yelled, all the while making his way down the rusty fire-escape. Arad, again grasping reality that he was alive, jumped from Arsalan to greet his old friend. They met at the base of the building, embracing in a long-lost hug.
“At last, I have found you, friend,” Arad spoke, once they had released each other.
“Found me? I thought it was I who shot the bullet?”
Smiling, Arad continued, “Do you actually think I would be strolling through this part of the town alone if I knew you were not here? Come, friend, do you really forget that I graduated Lincoln one class ahead of you?”
“Yes, but it was only because you won the coin toss!” Again, the hugged while laughing. Reminiscing of their times of childhood, grammar school and then military school, Davood showed Arad the way to his home, Arsalan trotting behind.
As the two friends ventured deeper into the city, more people began to wander the streets as well, and the avenue lights lit the street, the houses and buildings remodeled. This was the heart of Susa, the largest city still within the Persian realm. Davood led Arad into a small, mud brick house made the same way they were 6,000 years ago. Arad dispersed of his Freedom Cape onto the couch as Davood showed him the kitchen where they could sit down and talk.
“My apologies for the shot, friend. With the Freedom Jacket and all, I believed you to be a spy. Usually we are told when there diplomats coming.” Davood explained.
“No apologies needed, Davood. I came here under my own power, I wanted to discuss something very important with you. Washington isn’t always the easiest to get idea’s by.”
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Comments are welcomed!
More to come tonight, or tomorrow.
Jason
Arad rode down the street, unaware of the watching eyes. The black mare he rode, whom he had taken the honor of naming Arsalan, or lion, snorted out the ancient dusty air. The once metropolitan of Susa was now reduced to a small, under populated village of nearly 130,000 residents. The empty buildings, sky-scrapers and wonders of their time, are left unkept. Many were beginning to crumble, leaving rocks stacked among their sides.
From atop the Emericon World Organization Headquarters, or at least the past headquarters, Davood crept over the side to have a good view of the poor wanderer beneath. Raising the sniping rifle to his shoulder, and peering through the eye piece, he steadied his breathing. Saying an ancient prayer to himself, from which he had remembered his great grandfather murmuring, he took aim to the head. Taking in one last grasp, he squeezed the trigger.
The gun made a loud snap through the empty streets and left a white streak through the mist that it traveled. Without knowing what he was doing, Arad unsheathed his sword and by instinct swiped the bullet from the air. He fell to the stone road, creating an echo of the failure.
Davood stood with a large smile upon his face. “Arad, is that you?!” he yelled, all the while making his way down the rusty fire-escape. Arad, again grasping reality that he was alive, jumped from Arsalan to greet his old friend. They met at the base of the building, embracing in a long-lost hug.
“At last, I have found you, friend,” Arad spoke, once they had released each other.
“Found me? I thought it was I who shot the bullet?”
Smiling, Arad continued, “Do you actually think I would be strolling through this part of the town alone if I knew you were not here? Come, friend, do you really forget that I graduated Lincoln one class ahead of you?”
“Yes, but it was only because you won the coin toss!” Again, the hugged while laughing. Reminiscing of their times of childhood, grammar school and then military school, Davood showed Arad the way to his home, Arsalan trotting behind.
As the two friends ventured deeper into the city, more people began to wander the streets as well, and the avenue lights lit the street, the houses and buildings remodeled. This was the heart of Susa, the largest city still within the Persian realm. Davood led Arad into a small, mud brick house made the same way they were 6,000 years ago. Arad dispersed of his Freedom Cape onto the couch as Davood showed him the kitchen where they could sit down and talk.
“My apologies for the shot, friend. With the Freedom Jacket and all, I believed you to be a spy. Usually we are told when there diplomats coming.” Davood explained.
“No apologies needed, Davood. I came here under my own power, I wanted to discuss something very important with you. Washington isn’t always the easiest to get idea’s by.”
*******************
Comments are welcomed!
More to come tonight, or tomorrow.
Jason
What are "these things"? I don't see problem.
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