The Look

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

She saw a pair of amber colored eyes looking back at her. The eyes reflected the image of the blazing flames in front of him. They were steady and wouldn't blink afraid to loose the sight of her again. The heat of the furnace kept beating against him, the steam surrounded the space he was standing. His wild red hair were soaking wet and fell on his shoulders like a lions mane. He sweated enough that his tanned skin could be seen within the shirt. Each strain of his muscles was taut, as he lifted the fresh concrete and poured it in the pits.

There was a small wall separating the men from the women. Both did work differently. Mycelia's job was to filter the aggregriate from the rubble. The dust kept blowing in her face. She shiver down her spine when she saw him looking at her as if ready to attack. There was a lot of chattering of the other women about her. It was evening and the sky looked orange and muddy. It had an intensity that would be left behind just when the moon appears. The orange soaked her heart with passion. She felt his touch only through the wind that passed from his side and she felt warm all over.

The prison camp laid on a vast mountaintops area near an abandoned mine field where sand and dust prevailed. The Conans had captured the Teniens and the Darriets. Most of the nobles were killed and the peasants were sent to the mines, which lied in the depths of the Kahara desert. Before that the Teniens and the Darriets were sworn enemies for ages. Princess Mycellia escaped the killings and was in the camp as a disguised peasant. She was a darriet. Luke was a great knight who had fought a many wars for the Teniens. He later secluded himself and roamed the foreign lands like a gypsy .It was his last help to the Teniens against the Conans when he was captured.

On the first day of the camp Mycellia saw a drawing. It was a picture of a face drawn by charcoal. Its eyes showed an intensity stirring within its soul. The face looked alive, looking at her back. At first she wondered if it was hers some forgotten drawing...but it wasn't. The face was beautiful in terms of its missed the conventional beauty. The face was rugged as seen on a man after a days hard work, the eyebrows were united by a fissure, its lines extending to the forehead, he had high cheek bones and a fine nose. His eyes looked honest, yet savage.

She had felt thrilled that time. She always tried to draw such a look only draw innocent looking eyes with exterior accessories to show its ferocious clothes, knives etc..The face in front was the picture she always had in mind but unable to materialize it. Suddenly the paper whisked off in front of her. Only to be seen in the grab of a big palm that extended further into huge biceps. Before she could get out of the shock, the figure that held the paper disappeared.

The hand was all she remembered of the artist and it held the same spirit as the face on the paper. She felt a certain hot restlessness within. Not sexual but like a great cluster of atoms moving with speed by the high temprature, where nothing attracts or is repelled both flows on with the speed of light and moves further in the vacume of space and cools down as they go on expanding. The way an artist gets suddenly inspired by an idea and is desperate to work on it.

She felt a bit dizzy but pulled herself up and went on to her appointed cabins. She took a charcoal on the way."Paper."She said to herself a paper. I need it now or it will never take place. There was no paper in the room and she couldn't explain her temptation to touch it to her comrades, they'd think she's pretty stupid to get wild on such a silly thing. At dinner she kept looking hungrily at the paper plates. She calmed herself to wait until she finished her dinner like others and snatch that damn plate and draw on it. It was madness.

Soon after her roommates were asleep, she took the paper and kept near the window where the streetlights shone through. This time at least it had to be right. She took the charcoal. Started with the didn't want them innocent this time. She thought a bout the face. Its ruggedness. Still her eyes looked unreal. She tried to trick her own drawing with somewhat bushy and angry eyebrows. She knew she was only decorating her drawing. Her hand refused to bring out the spirit of the face. She threw the plate away in frustration. It seemed her ability to bring out life on paper had gone. She tried to sleep but the face kept reminding her of its youthfulness .She decided to search for the artist in the end.

The morning was beautiful next day. The muddy ground where the ladies were led to bathe seemed to form themselves into the face looking back asking mycelia to bring it to life. That day she felt enough energy to go through the chores. She could only think about the artist whom she was looking forward to meet in the evening, but she wondered how.

Now in the metal mine where the women's job was to separate the filtrate she managed to draw a face .It wasn't at all like the one she had in mind. In fact the beautiful modeled face looked out of place on the hard rocky walls of the mine that surrounded them. To her disappointment nothing happened throughout the three hours. She felt very disappointed and left to the room feeling all-empty inside.

The next day Mycellia was surprised to see someone had just added a few strokes on the eyes leaving the rest of the face intact. The eyes however were the ones she wanted to see. She couldn't help it... she had to touch it. To know how it feels to achieve such mastery. Perplexed completely she gazed at it and felt now on a further look the eyes looked like her drawing sensitive and tender. The picture was hers...yet wasn't.

Luke ...on the other hand went on through his work, all this time; he had only one thought in his mind-freedom. His hands felt as heavy as lead and sometimes seemed that they were never his, flashes of the war kept torturing him.†Its not enough to wait for something to happen†, he felt.†a plan of action must be initiated. But many questions haunted who shall he trust, where can the meetings take place and how can he know the enemies weak points.

He closed his eyes for a while ...remembering an incident, when he first escaped as a teenager wandering in the near woods. He was scared and a bit excited. The trees near him looked like bold strokes of black painted by a brush. The strokes kept vanishing as it neared the drowning sun. It was cold...very cold. He couldn't feel his fingers wrapped around the spear. His hair blew and beat across his face. The air-dried his mouth and his eyes watered. The sky looked silent illuminated by an orange intensity. He walked forward slowly he couldn't help but be in awe, as if he belonged to this beautiful picture. Somehow what he saw seemed more wonderful to think of his pains. The sun seemed not a circle but a combo of colors splashed all over the sky.

The soil felt moist and spread its fragrance everywhere. He lifted a branch and looked at it as if noticing it for the first time. He noticed the scales, its brown richness that further branched into little greens. The twilight color reflected through his eyes, the eyebrows partially shadowed his awestruck eyes. The cheeks and the nose were red leaving the rest of the face white. There he stood below the overhangs of the trees that looked tall, complimenting the horizontal grounds....

Slowly he opened his eyes with a deep sense of sanctity within but the sight in front disturbed the beautiful image .He tried to ignore any thoughts of self-pity or aggressiveness’ had to remain calm and think rationally to maintain his own sanity. It was hard and frustrating to keep his emotions under control when everything around was depressing and most of the people had given up hope.

He raised his head...when suddenly his eyes fell upon a face on the stony wall. He felt a slight tingle in the neck followed by a brisk deep breath. It was an emotion he forgot ever existed; somehow the face was the only thing alive for him. It amused him a bit...he had to walk and see it. He glanced at the texture was beautiful. The sensuality of the skin looked alive. He noticed the crests and the bulges wherever needed. He smiled to himself as he thought about his own drawing...yet he wondered why something about it bothered him.

He took a charcoal and applied a bit shadow to the eyes ...then suddenly his hands started moving attentively, impatient as if the motion they are going bring out the required result was too slow. As he drew strokes his heart started jumping faster and faster. He was feeling hot all over as one gets in a high fever. Yet he didn’t understand why. After he was done he looked at the face.... satisfied. It was as if he had drawn his own face. He laughed at himself over this thought, completely forgetting that the drawing was not his.

The ladies, living quarters had a cantilevered terrace that faced east. Every morning it would look brazen in the morning sunlight. At night one could smell the fragrance of the weeds and the simple leaves ...of the overhangs of the great palms. However the view could only be enjoyed late at night since that was the only time they came in to sleep. The twilight remained unseen for they left the quarters for work before daybreak. But today was was two weeks after mycelia’s first day of camp. She was assigned a job to dig the mud, which lay near east of a big shimmering pond. It was new job introduced for the first time in months...that her eyes fell upon such a huge body of in an oasis.

Her first temptation was to dive in it and never come back. Hardly anyone knew that such a divine thing existed in this torturous dust and heat. It was broad daylight She sat near the pond touching the soft mud near it and then caressing the cold round rocks as if to suck its coldness within her. The sand was cool and it kept slipping from her bare toe fingers like mischievous kids refusing to stay in place. She looked up and could feel the sun on the nape of her neck. There standing high she could see her own quarters that laid well hidden behind the dense palms and shrubs. The only thing that was upsetting was the temptation the place will bring every weekend. All her days she would toil carrying this wonderful picture in mind and eager for her weekend job here. The whole day went in shoveling trying hard to separate the clay and the coarse sand, which would easily slip into the pit

As night fell, she saw two men approaching. It was too dark to recognize them. One of them spoke†ladies, having any problem?"Mycellia smiled and said"yes..A bit but working in this place is better than the mines. Atleast we can feel the constant cool air! The sad thing is we are not allowed to enter the pond†.†I know "said the man. He seemed well built, might had been some wrestler or something...judging by the outline of his shadow.†These people are cruel to let us enjoy here so much that we crave for this moment every other day. I’m supposed to sail to the other side and bring something back. This fellow here has come here for the first time...will be helping me every weekend now. These things seem huge, never knew what’s in those jute sacks... as a guard always come along with us.†Saying this he looked around trying to see if the guard is coming.

Mycelia seemed to not hear him as she stood gazing at the other dark figure that stood about ten feet apart. He seemed to be lost in the coolness of the atmosphere looking at the reflection of the moon in the water. She could see small strands of his hair laid freely dancing in the breeze. He spoke nothing and proceeded to the boat, as if she didn’t exist. He halted suddenly near the edge of the porch, as if ready to jump in the waters.... and he did. Everyone standing on the bank, looked at him stupefied.

"Doesn’t this insane idiot know what harm will become of him if the guards find out?†they thought

He didn’t come out and the others were horrified with shock. Mycellia ran towards the edge... when she stopped abruptly ...and saw a shadow... with strong long arms sprung high into the air with a body which seemed to hold the water around him ...and wouldn’t let it go...a. deep sound of pleasure emerged out of his throat as he sucked the air into his lungs. The surface water rippled away from him carrying his reflection with it.... only to be held back by him. He shook himself wild and splashed the water around. His happiness felt contagious to Mycelia who could feel the satisfaction he was experiencing.

Her feet seemed rooted there, her eyes refused to let go of him. She wanted his spirit. Then a low voice from behind gave her a tiny scare. She turned around to face her friend who came striding with the other fellow.

"Whets the matter with you?†Shouted her friend in a panicky.†I thought you ran to save him. Or something but even we got scared when you. ...Just stopped...the way you did!â€

All of them observed the man in the water lifting himself in the small boat waving his hand to say his all right. The man standing by Mycelia stooped forward

"Sorry about him. Never seen him behave this way before.... oh. I didn’t introduce myself...I’m William...and him...he is Tom. I’m from the western province...was a blacksmith before. He is a woodcutter.â€

“Well…he look’s too noble to look like one,†answered Mycelia’s friend, admiring Luke’s tall framework at the same time.

"I'm Mycellia"introduced mycelia.... and ...we both were housemaids in the palace."

At this point her friend looked at her questioningly."Oh? It must be really fine...seeing royalty from near?†said William with a little more respect."...Uum...a bit. Maybe" interrupted her friend," we should be going now. Goodbye."

She wanted to end this episode as soon as possible, wanting to have a good long girl chat with Mycelia about these men, after all it had been months since they talked to any. Both ladies walked briskly away biding the other figure...tom goodbye and were even happier to see him waving back. Even though it looked as his gesture was just a formality. Both the girls were quiet each thinking of the men and wondering if they would ever meet again.

Months passed and there was still no hope of freedom. There were men who were used to being honored and now could no longer behave like slaves. The living conditions worsened. There were frequent sandstorms, there were diseases where the diseased eager to die were kept alive by the damn squeeze out their every drop of blood, to keep the work going on.

But the work went on regardless. Stone columns were made and as the construction progressed, everyone now had an idea that they were building some kind of monument. It was supposed to have shallow steps leading to a semi-open courtyard. There were flying buttresses supporting the 25-ton dome. Arches arose everywhere supporting and distributing the weight of the constructed structure.

But this was the east elevation. The rear end was being made of steel. Tall towers soaring into the skies connected to each other by beams. They looked black, beautiful, solid and calm...a beautiful thing to look at in a yellow desert filled with chaos. They stood with grace complimenting the vast horizontal sands. People loved working near the iron, which were delivered from Paris. It was cold and smelt good.

Luke's job was now in the stone quarry. The huge blocks of undefined stone were enough to protect him from the scorching heat. Today he walked past the wired gates of the council. And knew that now was a perfect time enter it. It was almost dark now.

He bended his back enough to go unnoticed by a possible onlooker. He felt a sudden joy when he discovered a lousy broken door. That was to be an easy entry. He removed the rags he was wearing to wound up round the upper stand to get a firm grip there. Noiselessly he lifted his right leg and placed it the second bar careful not to touch the barbwires. Now with the support of that leg he lifted his entire body. Almost like a jump and managed to get his left leg at the top clothed railing. He jumped down to the other side.

The building was of red sandstone with small narrow windows. At his right, about 50ft away was the main entrance, a large corridor leading to the main building. There were plantations on either side, which made it possible for him to hide till the change of guard. He sat there weakly putting on his clothes again and softly placed his head on the solid roots, his body parallel to the building. He remained there quiet, alert and attentive to anything he saw. He looked like a panther .His whole body in tension.

Finally a bell rang and the guard in front left his position. Taking the opportunity he ran across and hid on the other side. There were creepers that went up the walls here. Suddenly he turned around as if someone was watching him. He heard a rustle someone running from him. He hid himself again and peeked to see if there is someone. He had plans tonight which he wouldn’t let anything disturb it. He had to get the map of the entire place, to browse through documents of transportation from here. He wanted as much information he could lay his hands on.

Now he knew that figure was approaching him…and he waited for him with silence. He could feel the fear coming from him and was almost creeping which meant he was not one of the enemies. Luke could hear his own heart clearly now. He wasn’t used to being scared. The figure could now be seen partially through the lights that fell from the hall. It was draped in jute skin and walked bare foot. The figure was short and walked with crouched shoulders like he’d walked that way all his life and that it was natural for him.

This meant it was none of his people, they who were tall, always stood proud but crouched... only through tiredness. Luke kept his dagger ready, his posture ready to leap. But the figure stood there at a distance, as if expecting Luke to reach him. Lucas was mad with anger and frustration. First he had to get the documents and now he has to deal with this tiny mystery man.

The man seemed scared and looked another way as if signing another thing like him. Another like him came near. He too scared of Lucas but as if they wanted to talk. Lucas now felt secured from any harm from them and proceeded to climb the wall, ignoring them. He reached the second storey. It was easy breaking through those old-fashioned glass windows. .

During the years he traveled foreign lands he had learnt a lot. He wanted to know every craft he could learn about. Whether it was carpenting in Paris, or the trade skills in Egypt and India or the functioning of illegal trades in Portugal. Today he was a thief and as a thief ...he was going to be a good one!

The furniture within was of redwood. Beautiful...unpolished and undecorated. It beamed with its own original beauty. Lucas stretched his palm on the doors motioning his fingers along the texture. He wished he could own these things. The room smelt of wood."Ah...beautiful wood†, he sighed as he remembered his days of boyhood and the forests he had once learnt to hunt with his father.

He longed for that moment again and knelt to carry with a small, funny feeling of respect for this place. Finally he got up carefully breaking the lock .He browsed through the books and scrolls swiftly without making noise. He had to break other two door locks when he didn’t find luck in the first one. A map fell at his feet .It was the one he wanted.

With a little more browsing he came up with everything he wanted. Quickly he folded them in his trouser pockets and the ones he couldn’t carry he tried to understand in the candle lights which filtered through the door. He fastened the remaining papers in his belt and moved towards the window to check the scenario down there. To his satisfaction there were no funny man waiting or a guard strolling nearby.

He climbed down carefully and went through the door he checked previously near the barbwire. There were steps leading down. It was dark and he was curious to find out what lied beneath. The place was dusty and he wondered if anyone ever used it before. He had two options...either to leave through the door, jump in the dry gutter and make his way back to camp or satisfy his curiosity and to take the risk of going down. Luke started moving towards the steps. The steps were of basalt stone. The stonewalls on the sides were his only support. The stairs went round in circles and seemed going down much deep. Lucas stopped somewhere in between, he felt like turning back but carried on regardless.

He knew he wouldn’t rest knowing he was so close to finding something there and didn’t. It was very dark; he could here echoes of his own heavy breathing. His fingers could touch cobwebs and dust on the walls. Everything in him repulsed from going there except for his refusal to give up. He finally seemed to reach the bottom; he removed his torch and lighted it. In the blazing fire he saw a blue flame shimmering in it and vanished. He was a bit taken aback but reasoned he never really saw the way fire burns and walked forwards. Before him he found coffins...about 4-5,gold plated. A many weird thoughts entered his mind, which he tried to shut off deliberately. He felt himself shivering with cold. He turned his torch around to see a heavy door bolted at the center. He had had enough and decided to leave the place. He didn’t feel at rest until he reached to topmost tread safely, and reached back to the camp.


Light brown eyes gleamed into the dim lights. They shone and hid themselves in the shadows of the eyelashes. Her black hair kept blowing in the wind; her gaze was fixed on the figure...Luke who was carrying the jute sacks with much effort. Today there was no one around. She stood there standing on the shore taking no effort to help him and eyeing him as he went on working helplessly alone.... But that’s what she thought ...until he slowly turned his head and looked at her. His lips curved into a wicked smile. Rather a mocking one. He knew she'd been enjoying his sight and he allowed her to. His red strands of hair kept brushing against his forehead. But he was even crueler than her. He turned his back and went on with his work all cold and aloof. She started to like the game they were playing,

She now had mischief in her mind. Mycellia walked briskly to him...sandals removed her sleeves rolled up. She stood beside him letting her skirt touch him gently. She then turned letting him notice her and let her hands caress the rough jute. Her little fingers circling the neck of the sack.†I pity you†she finally said mockingly,†such a fine gentleman like yourself having to do a slaves job†. She didn’t mean it but said it for the shear pleasure of making fun.†I’d really wish I could go to the other side ...if only someone could take me†she said sighed flirtingly. She surprised herself by her own flirting. She wished she could have just minded her business, but this man intrigued her and the pleasure to mock him was even more so. She had created a perfect image of a vain former socialite in the last few weeks before him. Just like the ones in her room who refused to accept the reality of lost freedom.

She saw his strong long back straightening up. His muscles taut under the damp white shirt. He lifted his chin his lips pulled back and suddenly he burst laughing.

"Mycellia, Mycellia.... why do you assume I’m like the others?"

Saying thus he abruptly stopped and looked directly at her .His eyes not leaving hers. Before she knew it his arms pulled her towards him lifting her in the air like a feather and threw her in the boat mercilessly. Mycellia hated him that moment...none had ever dared to this to her. Her face heated with scorn looked at his mocking face. Luke withdrew the anchor, holding Mycelia around the shoulders firmly.

"What’s the matter with you?†asked Mycelia

"I wish I could slap you right now...but don’t wish to hurt that pretty face†replied Lucas, though this time he looked serious.

He snatched the oar and started rowing furiously away from the bank leaving mycelia all confused. She was scared but wouldn’t show it behind a veil of arrogance. She had wanted him...but not like this. It was very dark and none could read each other’s faces.

"Take the other oar "he demanded."...And row as fast as I†. And then snapped†You shall remain there till you save yourself or a lusty guard catches you."

Mycelia was all heated with fury ...she went right across and slapped his face.

To her bitter astonishment he didn’t react and waited for her to sit back. She hated him even more when he returned her to the shore without any explanations and left as if nothing happened.

That night in her room she cried not because she was scared but she was angry that he dared to touch her, yet she wanted him so much.

She picturized him on his knees asking her for mercy.... and how she wished this could materialize. However she did wondered why he left her back for he didn’t looked guilty.

In his own room Luke sat pondering about this woman. He didn't expect an attack of self-dignity from her side. But she’s just a vain maid†he kept telling to himself. No, he wanted to meet her now. To look into those eyes that looked at him so angrily and learn every secret they held away from him.

Later he fixed his attention at the documents in front of him .He spread the sheets and added some weight to the corners. Luke realized that for miles there was sand and only reptiles for company. Further north, the map showed many wavy lines drawn close, which represented the steep contours. There was a grey area at the northeast showing many volcanic areas. The only path the enemy could enter seemed the small pond. But then it can’t be a pond; it has to be some kind of small lake that connects to the sea. Since that map didn't show any, Lucas guess was a possibility of canals that were built laid so much in secret that the authority of the surveying department, themselves had no idea of its existence…but why? Lucas took a deep breath and sat there staring at the candlelight, blankly.

He stood up lifting the jute mattress door of his tent and looked out at the two figures in front sitting near the fire. The fire was small and the only thing so alive right now. Luke wondered why the council was hiding from their king. It also meant that the king himself didn’t know of his and his people’s existence here. All this while he was looking at the fire that rose out with different colors…cool and warm. After a while he kept looking at the blue flame that reminded him of those coffins in the basement. He was perspiring cold sweat.

He tried to remember images of all the past months and try to extract any clues from it.†Did the shifting of the prison camp, from the mines to these dry lands have anything to do with this? And if it does, then what is it. Luke wanted to remain focused but many a varied thoughts filled his mind all pointing in different directions.

Suddenly he felt all-empty within. It was like the feeling he had as a child. He was sitting on his mothers lap listening to her talk of the stars and the wonderful universe above. She was sitting on a white marble swing in the middle of a small garden. She was telling of that wonderful creator who created all this. She spoke of constellations, high above and what they meant. Under those vast heavens of dark skies and widely spread sparkling dust, both felt like just miniature part of this strong and robust nature, that stood proud overhead but was yet deeply ingrained and so much a part of them. At that time Luke had looked at his mother, his face filled with pride for her. He wondered if she knew god that she spoke so well of him. He asked her and her vague answer of some invincible-make-believe phantom dissatisfied him.

After a while, his mother kept him on the ground for sometime and asked him to bring her the white night flower that bloomed in the moonlight. He wasn’t paying attention, still looking at the sky and then slowly turned around to look into his mothers eyes and wondered.†What if she had not told me this…or…this routine of every day’s work and play…what if this didn't exist…if this universe is to destroy by itself what would remain? Then…what…what" .He felt blank that time, all heavy with a fathomed emptiness.†Whats beginning…what end what is this …everything! He felt a sudden pull in his stomach; He had felt dizzy and ran to his mother like the only shelter to keep him from being so non-existent.

Luke had the same emptiness now. There were so many things unknown. He didn’t know what to think. Only this time he wasn’t scared but very frustrated, as he didn’t know what he should focus on. Luke then gathered himself up and then laughed at his own lame emotions. Straightening his tall long back he walk toward the fire with long strides.

Mycellia too was sitting near a campfire at her quarters, staring at the brown barks that got burned to carbon. She could feel her wrath melting now, and all that it left behind was a face.†The face...the eyes why do they seem familiar†, she wondered. IT was the kind that she'd slap with anger only to kiss it the next moment.

She had seen his face when he had passed by her campfire, and it was striking. It was rare that such features caught her attention.

"He didn't look beautiful, it’s insane to think about such a savage,†she told herself only his eyes kept on stirring her imagination.

That night in her room she lifted her head up looking at the blank wall. It had a smooth surface painted in pink. The color made her feel sick as one gets after eating too much sweet. She wished she could change the monotony of the surface and somehow make it look alive. Mycellia stood up suddenly as if she had just got an answer for something and had missed what it was. She cursed herself for stupid reactions she gave, which she could have easily controlled without waking up the others. She looked around and after comforting herself that everyone's asleep she went back to her bed, but impatient as if to grasp something in her little palm.

She remembered her days as a small girl. She was four years old when she had seen the water colored canvas faces of picturesque women. She could understand subtleties of moods the canvas captured and she wanted to trap one of those in her own drawings. Her initial sketches were stick-like bodies with pretty glossed eyes. She never drew noses then, feeling they destroyed the essence of the face. In those days she felt that a women’s beauty is limited to her shoulders whereas a man's limited to his moustache. This was particularly because of her much-admired father's looks, which made him look as handsome as prince.

As she grew up she could understand and breathe in life in her figures and could easily display an action as well as the emotion which could be going through at that moment.

It was only as a teenager did she completely master to draw the whole body in proportion. Yet it took time to draw men cause their improvement were proportional to how well she was starting to understand them. She had drawn many male bodies the way they ought to be sculpted in stone, but was unable to bring out a look she always had in mind...the kind of man she wanted to meet but believed he'd remain just a fantasy.

Her eyes browsed the pink wall again longing for the stonewalls back home. Then something came back to her. The fading smoke carried with it the smell of charcoal, which seems to give her some kind of pleasure. Mycellia now understood what she wanted to grasp. The face on the stony walls of the mine's was his!

..............................................................................................................................................................................................Luke was at the lake that day when he saw some men in red uniforms approaching.There were archers and spearmen along with its cavarly.He didn't pay much attention at first and assumed the council might have a change of uniform from green to red.It never occured to him that these could be the enemies of them.He sat near his little wooden boat waiting for William to came back with the sacks.The water at the sides gave tiny waves dodging the boat a little.Luke was bored now and decided to stroll on the banks a little while.

From afar he spotted the first group that landed on the shore which seperated him by dense trees and huge black rocks.He could see a single soldier sitting in the small boat while the rest ran towards the street.The boat then seemed to be moving towards him.Luke remained still ,sitting on the soft ground not suspecting any danger from his side.As the boat approached he noticed the red bulky armour carried within it what looked like a boy...not more than fifteen.Thats when an idea came to him but wondered if could proove foolproof.He hid himself well and then grabbed the boy and made him unconcious with one blow of his fist.Quickly he exchanged costumes and proceeded to the other boat.However he decided to wait and watch first and to take further action after their first move.

Mycellia was now ploughing the fields.The ground was hard and filled with sharp stones.She was aching all over but continued to work.The heat kept torturing her and the ladies who were working there.Everyone looked drained with swollen hands and feet filled with numerous cuts.Mycellia felt dizzy but kept pulling herself together.Then through the vast fields she could see a small stream of smoke rising in the air.She wondered who'd done that cause the garbage wasn't supposed to be burned near the new town square.Suddenly there were screeches and war-like noises.Everone around stood still in shock-rooted cold to the ground.It was worse as it is working under the enemy,now its their enemy they are facing and there seemed no chance of escape.Nothing was left of their kingdom to come on any diplomatic terms with them.The Conans in green could clearly be seen fighting those claded in red.Most peasants started running helter-shelter,some were so numbed that they ran directly in the midst of the bombings in total hysteria.

Mycellia screamed at the top of her voice"There is no chance of our survival here run to the opposite end and save yourselves".People listened .It was a time they could listen to anyone who did anything but stayed numb.Mycellia shivered all over and was surprised that her voice even jumped out of the throat.The young were made to run in the woods,even the gaurds allowed that cause they could'nt find a better option in that moment.The old were helped by else.Mycellia stayed back.She had become something of an assumed leader now trying the get control of the situation and helping her people escape.She wondered what might have happened to the men who worked at the building site in the town center.She had only the time for a shudder and ran to the woods herself ensuring noone was left back.She could see the Conans trying to hold back the enemy as best as thay could.She then turned around and ..froze.

Huge trunks of trees lied before her with roots that spread so vast that they seemed to own the ground.She was alone and lost.She could'nt remember the gaurd ever mentioning this route."Where are the others?"she felt .It was much a comfortale feeling to die in the open with many others than being so lost in a deadly forest and to die alone.Mycellia was scared all the time too,and she herself had become kind-of numb and had ran blindly when the load of responsibility lightened.Her body gave her no strength but her mind refused to listen to it and carried on regardless northwest-the direction she remembered everyone fleeing.She hoped to reach there sooner or later.

Meanwhile Luke had got position of one of the cannon boats and hide himself under a black wasted leather.It confused him when his eyes fell upon a map.The map had a symbol of a red flag with a golden eagle on it.It also showed the directions leading outside this land.Luke slowly took charge of the steering wheel.He felt heavy-heavier than the wrath he carried for months of slavery.He understood it but knew that returning back will do no good.He could hear the war-cries and see smoke from afar.He went down under the docks and carried with him all the gunpowder he could put his hands on and one by one destroyed the ships that were anchored at the shores.

"THE GOLDEN EAGLE"was now sailing in the deep oceans far away from the main lands.Luke was right the lake was connected to the oceans via canals.He was expecting a few more golden eagles to be harboured outside but to his surprise he found none!He had been following the outline of the land in a circular fashion.He had taken the risk cause he now had the real map in his hands and would know when to change directions.He was hopping to spot any survivors.Finally he anchored the boat at a place where there was flat land for miles.He stood still at first,his hair blowing in the breeze ,his flat chest covered under a steel jacket.He had held a shield in his hand as a precaution against a possible assault.When satisfied he climbed down the shore.

Mycellia was sitting on her knees gently wrapping the broken leg of a Conan soldier.She suddenly looked up and could spot the reflection that blurred her eyes.It was Luke with his shield.Both kept starring at each other taken completely by surprise.She had never seen him dressed as a warrior and wondered why this attire undermined the peasant as if he'd had worn better clothes and won honours in a royalty.Luke was looking at her beautiful brown eyes that sparkled in the sunlight.He looked at her with so much affection that Mycellia couldn't remember a single bad word to say to him.She too glanced at his hazel eyes and suddenly smiled as if she had finally accomplished something.Luke was a bit taken a aback by her expression ,he felt like a canvas rather than a human in front of her.He felt amused and went on to help her get up.

"Why are you nursing him?"Luke asked eyeing the unconcious soldier and surprised to find a pint of jealousy in his tone."Can’t keep him dying ", replied Mycellia bluntly as if to keep the situation real by meaningless words all the while too excited to see him,as if she wanted to touch that face ,to understand its contours and was'nt necessary the face was real and alive!.

They carried the soldier to the ship.Luke remained aloof all the while ignoring her presence.Mycellia didn't mind it either she had just came out of a horrible mess and was not about throw herself into another.The Conan soldier had found Mycellia in the woods .He had brought bad news.Everone lead were killed in the forests .He had faught but stumbled down a creek and broke his leg.Being a soldier he managed to cross some three miles ...all filled with bruises and cuts.He saw Mycellia wrestling against a red soldier when he took the last effort he could bring within himself and killed the person with a spear.Mycellia was almost unconcious that time and could'nt grasp what had happened.When she did regain conciousness she saw this wounded soldier and quickly started nursing him in a desperate attempt to avoid lonliness.

Luke appeared like a handsome devil, a sincere look of mischief in those eyes.His high cheek bones looked prominent as they ran down the jaws.His body stood at his full height .His broad shoulders carried the black cloak he wore.He looked like a human that possessed a lot of personal power and confidence in himself.A human who knows that he’s here to live for no man but himself.That was the reason why Mycellia could’nt compare him to any beast ,no matter how wolfish he looked at first he was the exact image of a perfect human male.Something much stronger than other existances.

Submitted: January 18, 2018

© Copyright 2021 moonlightsong7. All rights reserved.

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