BEGINNING
Just Love Me | By Murat Saban (PhD)
A Legend Rises Again...
He who would unite the clans under one tribal roof had to prove his courage and intelligence to his own people first. That’s why my brave prince fought the river’s terrifying dragon. He couldn’t kill this dark force, a legacy of ancient times. But he did manage to imprison it in the Oka Valley’s waterway. Thus, my prince became the river’s new master. And he vowed to wipe out the Donbettirs, who rose in the dragon’s shadow. From now on, no one would be able to oppress his people. He pursued their trail for years. Finally, he reached the last one. He managed to corner him in an underground labyrinth where he hid. [slowly] His name was “Love”.
[whispers] [slowly] “Think of Me, Miss Me, Feel Me, Want Me, Desire Me, Love Me...”
At their very first steps, my prince and his men turned into iron dust unable to resist the pull of a magnet, drawn in by a call that invaded their minds. They completely forgot their purpose. They obeyed the voice that stirred their urge to possess. Their only thought was to reach the source of the sound, one that came from no direction and every direction at once, and to claim it. With every step, they became more detached from their surroundings, more distant from one another, vanishing into the tangled corridors of the damp labyrinth. Some collapsed from exhaustion. Some lost their minds and went mad. And some…
The soldier reached out his hands. He wanted to touch, to embrace, to love. The thing that gave meaning to his life stood right there before him. Who could stop him from possessing it?
At the other end of the corridor, another soldier appeared. These two soul-bound comrades, who had known each other for so long, now had to compete fiercely to claim what they both desired. They glared at each other with hatred, drew their swords without thought, and fought to the death.
The anguished scream echoing off the cave walls had brought my prince to his senses.
As he stepped over the lifeless bodies of his men who had turned on each other he plugged his ears with stoppers and raised his shield. He would watch the final donbettır through the reflection on the shield’s polished metal thus shielding himself from both her voice and those fiery eyes that could melt a man into wax. He entered the decrepit structure with caution. He knew the heavenly visions he saw were mere hallucinations, and that the only truth was the demonic being standing before him.
[slowly] Like all things demonic, she was seductive.
Love let out a sultry laugh when she saw my prince. She found it childish that this pitiful man, standing before her as if about to battle an army, thought he could protect himself with such precautions. She scanned him from head to toe with her beautiful eyes, as if she absorbed his soul.
“Do you want me?” she asked.
Her voice was alluring, her manner inviting, her tone spoiled. Her address was not to the ear, but to the mind. Realizing his precautions were futile, my prince removed the stoppers, lowered his shield, and dropped his sword. He was under Love’s spell. “Very much,” he said. “If you accept me, I’ll bring you gifts, rare and expensive ones: gold, silver, jewels, whatever you desire…”
Love adored gifts. She never refused them. A man who wished to win her heart had to go to great lengths and lay the finest treasures at her feet. But even this offer was not enough to satisfy Love’s desires. “I’ll bring you slaves,” he said. “You may do with them as you please.”
Love adored slaves. She took immense pleasure in watching free will flail helplessly before her irresistible power. But even this offer failed to quench her longing. “Just ask,” said my prince. “Only ask. Whatever you ask, I shall fulfill.”
Love loved to ask. Her desires were endless. She asked with her heart, her soul, her entire being. She despised resistance to her wishes. “Just love me,” said Love. “Love me, and only me. If you vow to love only me, I shall grant you happiness and fortune.”
That day, my prince emerged from the labyrinth alone. He won every battle he entered thereafter. He united the steppe and mountain clans, and built a mighty kingdom.
He was now the King, known as the Iron Fist of the North. But he could not keep the promise he made to Love. He never understood that all he possessed had been granted to him by Love. This betrayal would have a price. For Love’s favorite thing… was revenge.
This feels like a myth being told by firelight. The shift from epic battle to something eerie and psychological is so smooth it almost sneaks up on you. I love how “Love” becomes this dangerous force that unravels warriors who can face dragons but not their own longing. The imagery of soldiers turning to iron dust and wandering the labyrinth pulled me in — it’s haunting in a way that lingers after the last line 💖🫶✨
This was such an intriguing read. What struck me most is how Love isn’t just a character here, she’s a force that pulls the prince deeper into himself. The whole story feels like a journey through the mind’s own corridors, where desire, illusion, and longing slowly take over.
The moment he lowers his shield hit hard. It wasn’t weakness, it’s exactly how real enchantment works. Love speaks straight to the mind, past every defense we think we’ve built.
And the ending lands perfectly. He wins every battle, builds a kingdom, yet forgets the one promise everything was built on. It makes the final twist feel inevitable, if you forget the source of what you’re given, the price eventually returns.
Beautifully written, mythic yet psychological. Really enjoyed this piece. Looking forward to reading more from you.