Eternal Love (MewGulf AU)

🌻Chapter 12

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"I wonder what that noise was." After releasing the man's hand, he gazed in the direction the guard had gone to. It looked like there was some sort of commotion.

Mathal seemed worried too, and headed toward the commotion. "Indeed. If you don't need me, sir, I'd like to go to see for myself."

Gulf wallked with him, holding the horse's reins.

The lawn was cut in two by a brick-paved roadway, running between rows of date palms. Several guards were standing in a group, a truck parked in their midst. They didn't seem particularly tense. It looked like the driver of the truck had just been careless and collided with a lamp post.

"Oh, that's the truck that brings supplies in." the stable hand said with relief. "Like the food for dinner."

Beside him, Gulf stood riveted by the sight of the gate just past the truck. He was sure that that was the rear gate Sana had told him about. He could see that the palace was built in L shape, with gates in the north and south walls and patios facing the stables. The exquisitely molded brass gate opened and closed automatically, and had one guard posted at it.

The palace guards had immediately leapt into action at the unusual sound. But once they'd realized that it was only a simple accident, they stood around chatting inattentively.

And Gulf was holding a horse's reins in his hand.

He had only wanted to see what things looked like outside, to check the position of the gate, and if it really opened at 2 o'clock. But now, the perfect opportunity lay before him. He didn't think a better chance would ever come again. If he missed this one, who knew when the next one would come?

He tightened his grip on the reins in his hand. When the truck left, the gate would open. If he made his move then, he was sure to get out. He plotted out his best course of action and readied himself.

"Shall we go back?" the stable hand asked. Gulf gave a disinterested reply, and continued watching the guards' movements.

Once they'd finished checking the vehicle for damage, the guards dispered. The engine started up and the gate began to slowly open. As soon as the truck began to move, Gulf leapt onto the horse's back and snapped the reins.

The guards were startled by the sudden appearance of a horse. But the gate was already open and Gulf galooped it past the truck.

He urged the horse at top speed. He didn't hear the commotion behind him. He was entirely focused on directing the horse away from the palace. After they had run for some time, he looked back, but the rich green oasis of Saria was already out of sight.

He was in the middle of the desert. Sand blanketed the ground in all directions, the glaring sunlight reflecting off of it to throw up dancing mirages. The desert burned all around him.

Before long, Gulf was bathing in sweat beneath his thwab.

He pushed on, but no matter how far he went, the desert continued without so much as the first brick of a building. Sana had said it took less than two hours to reach the city, but he began to worry that he would never actually find it.

When he reached Madina, he could go to the embassy and say that he had lost his passport and they would probably be able to help him. But if he never reached the city, that didn't really matter. His hope of running into a tour group grew fainter as well. He saw nothing in any direction. He was haunted by the idea that he was going in the wrong direction.

"I guess I should have brought some water," he muttered to himself.

Especially if he was going to get lost like this. A terrifying idea rose up in his mind, but he quickly shook it off.

It was strange that he had gotten lost. Two hours was only the distance between his house and airport. Encouraged, he hurried on. He knew perfectly well that it was misguided to compare the desert to his hometown, but without some reassurance, he would only start to panic.

Arabian horses were reputed to be strong, and this horse lived up to its heritage, kicking up the sand powerfully. Gulf rallied his spirit, telling himself that the hardest part was getting out of the palace, and he'd done that.

But as more time passed, that hope, too, evaporated. The sun blazed overhead, cooking him. A river of sweat poured down his back. His throat was rough with thirst and his hands, resting on the reins had lost all their strength.

He began to lose hope. What if he died, lost out here like this? His mind, weakened by the heat, offered him nothing but bleak possibilities.

What would Mew think of Gulf's disappearance? Maybe he would search for him, since he had run out alone into the desert.

"Mew..."

Saying the name only made Gulf feel more hopeless. He knew it was selfish to rely in Mew since he had run away from him, but he couldn't help it.

TBC