The Sahara Chronicles #1: The Young Foreigner (Available in full on Amazon)

PART XI: FOUND!

The young lady's question threw him off, leaving Yor to stare at her with an outright blank expression on his face, blinking naïvely.

When he finally found his tongue, he uttered, "What?"

The soft, lilting voice of Elmeida's laughter echoed around the small house, instantly filling him with a sense of tranquillity, and he relaxed, almost forgetting the topic of their discussion and concentrating only on the beautiful smile on her face.

"Well," she said, composing herself, though her eyes glistened with humour, "you do remember the story of Merlin and Lady Celia, don't you?"

"Oh, that I do," he responded, mentally chiding himself. "Yes. Well, no, actually. After containing the Darkness, Lady Celia's essence went into a coma, while Merlin simply vanished from the face of the world. His disappearance was quite unnerving to the people, so they made it that he died with the exhaustion of using too much Magic. Or so it seems that's how it happened.

"But in reality, he was just in a coma himself – hidden from all civilisation – trying to regain the strength he lost. He awoke about two decades ago in my land, the Kingdom of Grant – his homeland – and eventually took to teaching Magic. My father was one of his students. Then, when I was nine years of age, my parents left me with him and never came back. Merlin told me that they went on a journey to seek someone. However, when three years passed by and I stopped hearing from them, I realised they were never going to come back. He took me in and took care of me until I was old enough to experience the world on my own."

Elmeida opened her mouth to speak, but –

"Eeeekkkkk!!"

The scream had come from outside the house.

The two companions glanced at one-another and, without wasting a moment, they rushed towards the front door. Yor motioned her to stay quiet and went to peer out of the window beside it.

To his immense horror, he saw an army of black-clad soldiers running towards them, crushing every denizen that stood in their way!

Yor turned to Elmeida, debating if he could tell her. But the determined look she gave him changed his mind. He was about to tell her what he saw, when she gasped.

"What's the matter?" he asked her. "What is it, Elmeida? Perhaps I can help you."

Her face turned grim and her eyes narrowed. "I know who that is causing havoc. I can sense them. They're not to be messed with." A pregnant pause. "And they're here for me."

Without waiting for a response, Elmeida opened the door and walked out – just like that!

Yor instinctively followed her outside, feeling around his hips for his prized belt.

Elmeida took a few steps towards the approaching army and stopped. "Hey, you Jermian fatheads! Your target is right here!"

'Jermian?' Yor thought, incredulously. 'Oh no... have they found her already?! She must've sensed them!'

As he put all the puzzle pieces together, Elmeida went on: "Why don't you take me now and leave this peaceful kingdom alone?!"

Yor was startled at her words, but trusted her to know what she was doing. 'It's the only thing I can do now. And maybe they really will stop attacking innocent people.' All around him, there were young and old women and men, and children – all dressed for the Spring Festival in traditional Saharan clothing – and now, staring in horror. Some even lay unconscious near the approaching army.

The head of the Jermian Royal Army, a mortal wearing the same black clothing with the only addition of a single gold band across his torso, held up a hand. At once, the army behind him stopped in its tracks. The head stepped forward and walked towards Elmeida.

Every sensible cell in Yor's body was telling him to protect the girl, but he held back such thoughts. Instead, he concentrated on getting ready to whisk her away at a moment's notice.

~*~

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