Have you ever regretted a wish you made? Why/what happened?

[i_am_fuchsia]

In my first life, after the Incident at the Red Room, where everything I thought I knew about Steerpike came crashing down, I fell into the blackest, most depressed of moods, and regretted so many things. I wished away everything that had ever hurt me, wished away meeting Steerpike, even wished away the fact that my dear brother was born -- because

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[_wallrunner_]

The Prince has spent the morning doing what he does best when he's in a poor mood: working out.

At first, Kaileena was amused by the sight of her paramour exercising. She straddled the Prince's back as he did pushups, then retired in a corner to watch him stretch. However, she found herself quickly bored, and realizing that he had no desire to work out with her, she left the tent, sending in a number of servants with water for washing and some other basic toiletries.

After an hour or so of exercise, the Prince bathed and dressed in a set of new clothes that Kaileena had left for him. He found it rather odd that the Empress seemed to provide him with a never-ending wardrobe of fine garments, but he thought it rude to protest. He found the clothing comfortable, and though not exactly well-fitting, not terribly unflattering.

[_wallrunner_]

Dressing and shaving didn't take very long, and the Prince found himself alone and realizing that he had many hours until nightfall. Kaileena had said that he wasn't quite ready to return home, that he had to rest and recover and prepare for what lay ahead. He'd asked what exactly 'lay ahead'. Kaileena wouldn't tell him, no matter how much he cajoled, begged, or even snarled. The darker his mood became, the more she insisted that he was not ready to return to Babylon. He hadn't approached the subject in days.

A casual glance to his journal showed him that it had been updated. Sitting crosslegged on a large cushion, he took up the journal and studied the Countess's entry. He frowned. Taking up his charcoal pencil, he wrote:

"I am sorry to see you in ill spirits, Countess. May you fare better."

[i_am_fuchsia]

The rain had continued today, although Miranda Fairweather had brought Fuchsia news from those scholars who studied the sky saying that they expected the poor weather to end and pass on by nightfall.

In the meantime, Fuchsia had brought out her ferret, Master Snow, to distract her away from the blue mood that responding to the Journal had put her in. She found herself more in a mood to stroke the white creature's back while gazing out through the window than actually play.

The sound of pages rustling caught her ear, and she looked over to see the Journal flipping back to the page she had worked on earlier. There was a response! Fuchsia set Master Snow down on the floor, and went to reply.

"It is partly the fault of the question, and partly the fault of this rain which will never end. I am not terribly fond of long, heavy rains, although a nice summer rain is nothing I can object to. And are you well, your highness?"

[_wallrunner_]

The Prince hadn't put down the journal. It was still in his hand when Fuchsia responded, bringing speed to his reply:

"If you ask the Empress, I am still in ill health. I feel well, I assure you. Does it rain often in your lands? I do not believe I have seen rain in Babylon in five or six months, but it was a heavy rain that turned cracks and crevasses into rivers and streams."

[i_am_fuchsia]

Fuchsia carefully runs her fingernail down the flat of the blade, testing whether it is hard or soft without letting the oils of the skin mar the weapon. "Is it magical?" she asks.

[_wallrunner_]

Fuchsia would find the weapon to feel like steel - cool and quite strong.

"It is, but like all weapons, it requires a skilled hand to use. It is like any other sword in that respect." The Prince's voice becomes somewhat soft, and he watches Fuchsia's interest in the weapon. "I have found it an interesting duality - I have used strange and magical objects of all sorts, but I possess no magic myself. Without the Sands of Time, I cannot travel in time. Without the Water Sword, I could not have killed the Dahaka."

[i_am_fuchsia]

"So what are the Sands of Time, then? Do they come from the Island of Time, where you now are?"

[_wallrunner_]

"You ask a complex question, Countess," the Prince murmurs. He sits back, returning the sword to its hilt. "I'll answer it in reverse. I am nowhere, as I said before. Outside of Time Itself. The Island of Time exists in the world, with Babylon and India and Egypt. The Sands of Time did come from the Island of Time, but they no longer exist within the Timeline. They cannot be found in the world or anywhere else." The Prince raises one finger and says, "That is not entirely an accurate statement. The Sands were created when the Empress perished at my hand. The Sands were the embodiment of her anger and malice. When she did not die, the Sands were not created. You might say that the Sands are she, and she is the Sands."

[amy_uncensored]

This may be strange to say, but I am glad you did not suffer at least.

[i_am_fuchsia]

So am I, although now that I can look back at that first life as a whole, I must say that it's a terrible pity that my fondest dream was to have a life of excitement, adventure and passionate love like what I read about in my storybooks...but instead I had great boredom, not much that would be construed as adventure at all, and crushed romantic hopes. I'm doing much better in all three categories, this second time around.

[amy_uncensored]

Well, they say things happen for a reason, though I sometimes have to wonder about that. Other times it seems quite clear. I am of the belief though that we are basically kicked around by fate.