Rise of the Prince

Rise of the Prince

by Faro &. Audrey Zarrabi

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Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781481741590
Publisher: AuthorHouse
Publication date: 05/14/2013
Pages: 206
Product dimensions: 6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 0.47(d)

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RISE OF THE PRINCE


By Faro Zarrabi, Audrey Zarrabi

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2013 Faro & Audrey Zarrabi
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4817-4159-0


CHAPTER 1

THE FORCE OF DARKNESS


As the warrior thunders onto the open field, his arrow is ready and his eyes are locked onto the leader of his enemies. His heart is beating loudly in his chest as he aims knowing this is his only chance to bring down the devil himself. His aim is true and connects with its target. He does not wait to see the deadly results of his arrow but quickly blends in with the fighting crowd around him.

Demol falls heavily to the ground as the fighting continues. He knows this is the end. The day has come, as he knew it would, and he welcomes his final moments. From across the field Demish sees his father fall to the ground and he frantically goads his horse through the throng of warriors to get to his father's side. Demish is beside him and Demol can see the anguish and fear in his son's eyes. Demol takes a deep breath and attempts to speak to his son. His breathing is shallow and his speech halting.

"My son, it is my time. I have expected this and must give you final instructions." He continues in a halting voice and holds tightly to his son's arm. His large and mighty chest heaves, and he coughs blood as Demish moves in to hold him close. Demol fervently speaks his final words to his son. "You are destined for greatness, my child. To find your destiny I have arranged for you to meet with Ashtar, and she will show you the way."

Those were the last words Demish heard his father speak. He was distraught, and in that state of blank thoughtlessness he gently lifted his father and placed him on his horse. He then rode away from the battle field unaware of his surroundings or the consequence of his actions. He finally came to a stop many hours later and looked around to find himself in a large and barren field. As he glanced about trying to orient himself with the area he noticed a lone tree in the field. He rode towards the tree and gently took his father's body from the horse and placed him under the tree. Demish sat beside his father's lifeless body throughout the night. He could not tell if he actually rested or if he had just stared into space and nothingness the whole night. As his vision came into focus, his eyes came to rest on his father's sightless eyes looking back at him. The events of the day before came rushing back to him. His father who was bigger than life itself was now dead!

What was he to do? His whole life had been consumed by following his father's lead. What was he to do now without that? This question repeated over and over in his turbulent mind. Finally he slowly got to his feet and began digging a grave beneath the tree to bury his father.

Many hours later, still in a daze he stepped back from the unmarked grave and suddenly remembered his father's dying instructions.

"I have arranged for you to meet with Ashtar!"

"Who is this Ashtar ... and how am I supposed to find her?" he asks himself out loud as he sank again to the ground in exhaustion.

Many months have passed and Demish has been roaming the mountain side avoiding his enemies. He now finds himself standing in front of a massive door. He does not know how he got here or why. He only remembers that his father gave him instructions to visit a soothsayer before his death on the battle field. He does not believe in these things and has no interest in whatever such a fortune teller would have to say. He turns away not wanting to have any contact with the spirit world. But he feels compelled to fulfill the pledge he made to his father.

Demish enters through heavy double doors to a dark and long passage way leading to a courtyard. He stops for a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the darkness. As he walks into the courtyard, he notices many herbs and all kinds of plants that he has never seen before. He walks up a few steps and onto a porch with a number of doors leading from it. One of the doors opens, and he hesitantly enters the room. He waits a moment for his eyes to again adjust to the new lighting as the smell of the room hits the back of his throat almost choking him. He swallows with revulsion and looks around the room noticing that the walls were covered with the heads of many different types of animals. Foxes, wolves, snake skins and a host of other animal remains lined the room. Dried herbs also hung all around the room.

The room seemed to be empty. Thinking he could get away he starts to walk out of the room when he hears. "Is that you Demish? I have been expecting you."

Demish turns around to see the shadow of a woman sitting on the floor. He could hardly see her in the dim lighting but he knows she was not there before. Where did she come from? "How do you know my name," he asked in surprise.

The woman laughs in a croaking voice. "There will be time for all your questions," she says waving her emaciated scrawny hand at him. "I know your name, your father's name, his father and his father before him. I know all their names. But today my son is all about you! Take a seat," she instructed pointing to the chair behind him.

Demish turns around to see two staffs, one on either side of the chair just behind him. He could swear they were not there before! However, he hesitantly sits down on the chair as instructed.

"I can see you feel uncomfortable. I can feel the pain in you, the anger. I am very pleased to see that your soul is suffering. You are in pain and that pleases me. I can see the greatness in you," continued the woman in her raspy voice.

Demish glares at her angrily. "What are you saying? You enjoy seeing me suffer? I am in pain because I have lost my father. I am only here because of my father, and I do not appreciate you mocking me!" He was frustrated, angry and near tears.

The woman laughed. "He he ... you are so naive my son. It is the pain and the suffering that will make you great. I want you to feed that hatred. I want you to keep the flame alive in you. I want you to suffer so you can make those who killed your father suffer. I spoke with your father, even before you were born. We communicated before you existed! I have been waiting a long time for this day. I have been watching you my son and I am pleased to see that my dreams have begun to come to fruition." Her voice sounded even more sinister as she emphasized her words.

Demish asked. "What do you expect me to do? I am a young man surrounded by enemies who are thirsty for my blood. I have no friends and no place to hide. I have come to you because that is what my dying father told me to do, and after this, I do not know what I will do next. But here you are telling me that I am going to be great! Great at what? Failure, running away, being afraid? Maybe I'll be great at not having any hopes or dreams!" he ranted in frustration.

The woman again laughed in her chilly sounding voice. "You do not need to dream. You will be the dream crusher. You will be the one to steal the hopes and dreams from the hearts of peasants. You will be the one who controls this world. They will be like insects in the palm of your hands. You are now The High Lord Demish and The High Lord Demish does not know anything about happiness. Besides ... happiness is for imbeciles," screeched the old woman.

Demish did not know or understand what the old woman was talking about. He looked at her in confusion as if she had lost her mind.

She continued her tirade. "I must tell you that you only have about fifteen years to accomplish your total control over the southern and northern parts of this nation. Everything has been planned for the next fifteen years. You have been given the ultimate power. There are forces within you that will attract the darkness and for the next year you will draw many Forces of Darkness to you which will allow you to achieve total darkness. Your power will build over the next fifteen years," she chirped with glee.

Demish feeling bolder asked. "Why do I only have fifteen years? Why is there a time limit and why do I need to achieve all this within that time?"

"For every force there is an opposing force. The Force of Darkness is always opposed by the force of light. This force will be coming to power in fifteen years. He will stand against your mighty army, and he will fight against your darkness."

Again Demish looked at the shadow with confusion, asking. "If you know there will be such a person. Why can't we just kill him and get rid of him now?"

"He he he ... Things are not as easy as they appear my son. If it was that simple I would not need you ... would I?" the woman asked not expecting a reply as she continued.

"We do not know where or when this force will appear. You have two great friends." As the shadow pointed to the staff standing on either side of Demish, they turned to serpents and slowly fell to the ground.

Demish was terrified by the sudden transformation and bounded from his seat to the center of the room while keeping his eyes on the serpents.

"With their power we will find this force and with their help you can destroy the force of light," she said continuing to point at the serpents.

Demish, gaining a bit more respect for the soothsayer hesitantly asks. "What can these snakes do that you cannot?"

The old woman laughed and answered. "They are your eyes and ears. They will show you what you need to see and take you where you need to be. You will know your enemies, and you will see your enemies through their eyes. They will be a part of you all the time and are seen only by you. You are also the only one who can hear them. They are an invisible force and power. Every reptile on this plain will now be under your control and your command. They will notify you when the force of light is born. Until then, no action can be taken. Therefore, you have to start building your dark army and putting fear into the hearts of these people. You can call my name when you need me, and I will be there to guide you."

The woman pointed to the serpents that then jumped onto Demish and became a part of his chest. He did not have time to react but felt a slight burning sensation, and when he looked down, he could see the head of the two serpents resting on his breasts like a drawing. He scampered back in dismay ripping away his garment and brushing frantically at his chest, but to no avail. The serpent's eyes were looking out as if to see around him.

"What is this trickery," Demish demanded of the shadowy old woman as he began walking towards her.

"Stop, do not come any closer to me. You will never see my face or look into my eyes. All you have to know and recognize is my voice and only my voice. When you are ready my son, when you are filled with the darkness, I will welcome you and only then will you be able to see me clearly."

"Go now and say your final farewell to your father. Remember this! That grave, that holds your father's body which can no longer be touched or felt by you, only holds a body ... a garment. Your father waits for the darkness to grow within you. Feel the pain and the loneliness of not having him with you," the shadowy vision croaked while reaching out a scrawny hand to touch Demish's chest.

"Feed your blood with hatred. Shed no tears and make anger your only weapon. Stand erect and walk away and never return to that place. His death is the flame that will burn humanity to ashes and will feed your loathing."

Demish left the shadowy old woman feeling bewildered and confused. Without any conscious thought of where he was going he begins walking. He feels a force within him that he had not felt before. With every step he takes, his anger doubles. His eyes are filled with loathing, his breathing becomes louder and heavier. He is no longer in control of his emotions. He feels the power of hatred cursing through him, and he acknowledges to himself that he likes the feeling. He welcomes the thought of suffering. Each step makes him more anxious until he finds himself standing over his father's grave beneath the lone tree in the empty field.

He looks at the place where his father is now buried and feels proud and optimistic, something he has not felt for a long time. He understands his purpose. His destiny is to create two powerful kingdoms. One, to be led by himself and the other, by his father from the underworld.

Demish passionately speaks to his father saying. "I am here to thank you father, for giving me the opportunity of helping you become King of the Underworld. I shall build your army with every man that chooses to walk beside me and those I will force to join me. Those who oppose me I will kill, and in their death they shall be yours along with our followers that meet their death in battle. They will be under your control in the underworld, and in this world I will not allow their families to mark their graves as yours is not marked. I promise this, that I will defeat this nation and become strong. I swear to you that one day you and I will again fight side by side to conquer this world."

"I will no longer grieve. I will not shed another tear. There will only be tears when your enemy's blood is shed and flows to quench your thirst. I now know why I was chosen, and I am glad that I am your son. Now I shall say goodbye to you and go to build our army in anticipation of this Force of Light."

With new found energy Demish mounts his horse and rides away without any particular destination in mind. He rides slowly taking time to contemplate events following his father's death. He no longer feels sad and lonesome. As he rides in quiet reflection he hears a voice but does not see anyone around him. It takes him a moment to realize that the voice is coming from inside his own head. It speaks again!

"Go to see Zalk," the voice says in a soft but commanding tone.

Who is Zalk and why am I hearing that name in my head, Demish wonders in confusion.

"Who is Zalk and why has his name suddenly popped into my head?" He speculates aloud. "Why would I need to see him? I don't even know where to find him," he continued questioning out loud.

"Go see Zalk. I will lead you to him."

The voice in his head was clearer this time. There was no mistaking the fact that someone was speaking to him from inside his own head. He shook his head, trying to clear away the noises. But again the voice spoke.

"Go see Zalk. I will take you to him."

Demish felt strange. Was this his subconscious mind trying to communicate with him? What was happening to him? How could he hear a separate voice from his own in his head? He did not feel afraid but instead felt directed to follow the voice. He relaxed and allowed himself to be led by this new sensation he believed to be his subconscious mind at work.

After riding through many towns, cities and farm lands he at last found himself in front of an old house. The house was at the base of a mountain surrounded by lush trees. He immediately felt at ease and dismounted from his horse, walked through the gates and knocked at the door.

The door was opened by a scarred face, drawn old looking man. The man was hunched over with a protruding hump on his back. His hair hung from his head in long thin patches. He looked ugly and it would have normally been daunting for anyone to look at him. However, Demish did not feel any fear or loathing, but actually found the man pleasant even with his repulsive looks.

"How may I help you?" asked the man in a chilling voice that would have stopped anyone else from venturing further.

Demish said. "I am the son of Lord Demol!"

"Who?" asked the scarred man? "Did you say Lord Demol?" Demish noticed a slight change in the man's demeanor at the mention of his father's name.

"Demol!" he repeated as if savoring the name. "Oh my son, come in, come in! Demol was my best friend and longtime companion! I was saddened to hear that he was killed and to know that he is no longer walking this earth. Come in, my son," the man encouraged as he waved Demish through the door.

Demish entered a small empty room. In one corner of the room sat a small table and two chairs. A mattress, pillow and blanket sat in the opposite corner. The house was very simple with only the bare necessities.

The old man pointed to one of the chairs at the table and told Demish to sit down. Demish walked over and pulled the chair out from under the table and took a seat. The old man slowly walked over to the other chair and placed it behind him as he sat down.

"What brings you here my son," he asked with little held excitement.
(Continues...)


Excerpted from RISE OF THE PRINCE by Faro Zarrabi, Audrey Zarrabi. Copyright © 2013 Faro & Audrey Zarrabi. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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Rise of the Prince 5 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 3 reviews.
CSouth More than 1 year ago
The ‘Rise of the Prince’ by Faro and Audrey Zarrabi is an engaging fiction in which all aspects of the novel combine to craft a beautiful story that provides a unique perspective on civilization. It demonstrates to us, through Dariush’s experiences, that we face our own personal choices every day - ‘for every force, there is an opposing force’. The characters are well-developed and the consistency allows us to grow attached. Therefore, it’s easy to ignore the background in which their stories take place but to do so would be to neglect to give Faro and Audrey the credit deserved. The setting is vividly created and they do an excellent job of transporting the reader to a profound atmosphere throughout the novel. This book has provided me with new insight to face personal transformation with courage. If everybody could learn from what the ‘Freedom Fighters’ teach us in this book, our world would be a far more developed, compassionate, and transformed place. I found it to be helpful in learning to accept and understand my thoughts and my ego. I definitely recommend this book and look forward to the next in the series!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I read the book in two days because I could not put it down. It reminded me of the stories in Shahnameh, where they write about the constant battles between good and evil and how we all have to choose our own paths in life. I believe that everyone especially the one's with Persian heritage should read this book and pass it along to their children. The world certainly needs more Prince Dariush. In my opinion the story is worthy of being made ito a movie! :-)
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Amazing Book! The words jumped out as if I was watching a movie. So many interesting unique characters. I learned valuable lessons which I put into my every day life. Some metaphors will stick with me forever. The perfect blend of realism and a splash of fantasy. I hope there is a sequel!