Prince of Persia leaps onto the Apple II on October 3, 1989


O noble readers, gather close, and let me weave for you a tale of wonder, as intricate as the silks of Samarkand and as daring as the heroes of old. I am Robert Dyer, spinner of stories, and tonight, under the starlit canopy of imagination, I recount the marvelous birth of a legend on the third day of October, in the year of our world 1989—a tale of a game called Prince of Persia, brought forth upon the humble Apple II. The Apple II, that modest steed of technology, bore this epic with pride. Though its colors were few and its sounds simple, it carried the prince’s tale with a clarity that needed no embellishment.

In a realm not of sand and spice, but of circuits and code, there dwelt a young scribe named Jordan Mechner, a visionary whose heart burned with the fire of creation. For years, he toiled in solitude, his fingers dancing upon the keys of his Apple II as if plucking the strings of a lute, crafting a story not of ink, but of pixels. His dream? To breathe life into a prince, a nameless hero of lithe grace and boundless courage, whose tale would unfold in the palaces and dungeons of a Persia woven from dreams.

Imagine, if you will, a Grand Vizier, Jaffar, seizing power with a dark hand while the Sultan is off at war, casting the valiant princess into a dungeon, and threatening her with a terrible fate should she not consent to be his bride. Her only hope? An unknown young man, yet a prince and her true love, imprisoned deep within the palace's labyrinthine depths.

The prince, incarcerated in the Sultan’s dungeon, had but one hour—sixty fleeting minutes—to escape his prison, evade traps as cunning as a vizier’s schemes, and rescue his beloved from the clutches of the wicked Jaffar. Each chamber was a riddle, each trap a test of wit and reflex. Spikes gleamed with menace, gates slammed with finality, and guards clashed steel with the prince’s own blade. Yet, it was not merely the challenge that enthralled, but the elegance of the prince’s dance—his somersaults, his climbs, his silent tread upon precarious ledges.

The prince, rendered with a fluidity unseen in the games of that era, leaped and climbed with such lifelike grace that one might swear he was no sprite of code, but a living soul. This was no accident, for Mechner, like a sorcerer of old, had captured the movements of his own brother, filming his leaps and bounds to imbue the prince with a realism that sang of truth. Yet our valiant prince, for all his grace, was a fragile thing. A single misstep, and he would be undone.

Legends still whisper of the prince's most cunning foe of all: a doppelganger, a shadowy reflection of the prince himself, who mirrored his every move. To defeat this phantom, the prince had to outsmart himself, a paradoxical feat that required much thought.

When this tale was first whispered to the people, it was not immediately hailed as a masterpiece. For some, the adventure was too difficult, the time limit a constant threat. But as with all great stories, word spread from village to village, and the magic of its telling became a phenomenon.    

And lo, the world took notice. From the bazaars of America, the whispers spread of this new legend. It crossed oceans to the far reaches of the most distant lands, being retold on different machines and in different tongues, captivating hearts and minds across the world. It is a tale that lives on, passed from generation to generation, reminding us that even the simplest of plots can become an epic adventure when told with artistry and love.

So, noble readers, as the moon rises and the night deepens, let us honor this tale of the Prince of Persia, unveiled on that crisp October day in 1989. It was a moment when a young creator’s dream became a legend, when a prince of pixels leapt into our hearts, and when the Apple II, like a trusty steed, carried a story that would echo through the ages around the world. May you, too, dear reader, find courage in your leaps and wisdom in your trials, as the prince did in his!

And thus, my tale for this night is told. Shall I weave another for you come the morrow?

Location: Fars Province, Marvdasht, Persepolis street, Iran

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