INTO THE VOID

CHAPTER 31: SANDS OF TIME

As Xaviere inspected the drawings in the chest, he felt very light headed. He felt as though he was going to faint.

"What's wrong? Xaviere are you OK?" Petrichor asked.

Xaviere took two steps back and covered his face with his left hand. "I am good. I think I'm just tired." He said.

"Always stay hydrated." Abdulsamad said as he passed his water bottle to Xaviere. "That's enough site seeing for one day, we should be on our way."

"I agree." Petrichor said.

"Let's just go." Xaviere added.

As they walked out of the room, just as they came, Abdulsamad in front with a torch leading the way, Petrichor following behind him and Xaviere walked behind her. Immediately Abdulsamad walked out of the room, the door was slammed shut behind him leaving Petrichor and Xaviere trapped inside. He turned around quickly and tried to open the door as he banged on it and screamed, "No, no, no; can you hear me?" Xaviere open the door."

"It won't open. Petrichor screamed back. "It is stuck." She shouted.

"Hang in there, I'm going to get you out." Abdulsamad screamed. He rammed his right shoulder into the heavy metallic door. This door that opened with relative ease a few moments ago was now proving difficult.

At this point, everything began to spin. A huge whirlwind sprung up. Like a cyclone of sand, the mass spun and spun lifting the contents if the room. Xaviere reached out for Petrichor who was trying to maintain her balance.

"Petrichor, grab my hand." He screamed.

Like a man caught in a blizzard, Xaviere had his arm over his face as he pushed forward against the wind.

"Xaviere" Petrichor called out. The wind had pushed the two of them apart. They were trying to reach for each other. They pushed and struggled, arms stretched out towards each other and when their fingers were but just inches apart, like Michaelangelo's masterpiece the painting of The Creation of Adam that adorned the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, the wind grew stronger and flung them apart once again. Petrichor was pushed to the wall, while Xaviere was immersed in the whirlwind.

Like a kite flown by children, Xaviere was tossed and spun around the mysterious wind and within a few seconds, he was knocked unconscious.

Sweating profusely, the man sat up on the bed as though woken from a nightmare. He looked left and right still confused and trying to make sense of the situation.

“No, not this again…” Xaviere whispered. Looking at the muscular hands, he knew he was not Xaviere at that point but Shambasa; the Nubian Warrior.

“Shambasa, the one who holds my heart in his hands” a voice said. “The great warrior and even greater lover, it is too early to rise. Lay with me a while.” The feminine voice continued but this time with her palms on his shoulders.” Xaviere was startled. At her touch he recoiled and turned quickly to look at this woman. He was too occupied admiring the physique of the warrior whose body he was encased to notice the woman that lay beside him.

As he turned his eyes to the look at this woman, he saw the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. This was no exaggeration. The woman had fair skin; not white enough to be Caucasian but she was not black either. Her race was the least of his concerns. He was fascinated looking at her beautiful eyes, dark pupils surrounded by whiteness. She had a slender nose; one so perfect that Michael Jackson’s plastic surgeons will be jealous.

He let his eyes stray downwards and he beheld her unclad body and it was then he realized he was also without clothes nothing covering him but a covering cloth that lay carelessly over his pubis. He did not care. He continued to look in awe at her mammary glands. She has such a slender frame; he wondered how she managed to carry such a heavy load. She was simply amazing.

“Shambasa, why do you punish me so? Why do you deprive me of hearing the sweetness of your voice? Speak to me, Shambasa say something.” She said. He couldn’t place his hand on it but there was something awfully familiar about this woman. He had known her for just a few moments but it felt like there was a bond between them.

“You are beautiful…” Xaviere said stuttering maintaining his gaze. In an instance, she pulled his head closer and occupied his mouth with her lips.

“Petrichor…..” Xaviere said after she had pulled away from him. This woman is Petrichor. He could tell from the kiss. She looked at him with confusion. How come she could not recognize him the way he did her? While they sat staring at each other puzzled, there heard a loud banging at the door.

“Open up…” Shouted a masculine voice…

“Oh, Shambasa, they have come for us.” The woman said in terror. Before Xaviere could respond, the body began to move. He was like a driver whose steering has been hijacked while he was strapped to a chair; all he could do was watch. In an instance, he got up and frantically put on his clothes. The woman did so too.

“We have to get out of here.” He said holding her by her wrist and pulling her to himself. He flung his sheathed sword across his shoulders and together they ran behind a curtain which led to a secret passage. Not long after their covert exit, the men at the door gained entry into the room.

Four angry looking men with murderous intents, brandishing swords ransacked the room that the lovers had just left.

“Find them…..we must not let that traitor escape.” One of the soldiers said.

Xaviere clenching to the wrist of the woman, ran as fast as he could. As he ran, he could feel the wind on his face; dusty and warm his heart was beating violently against the insides of his chest and thoughts flew ran through his mind. So many questions: Who is she? Where am I? What is happening? Xaviere could do nothing but ponder.

“Shambasa…” the woman called out as she ran by his side with her right hand in his left and her left hand holding up the gown that she had hurriedly worn. “Shambasa what are we going to do?” She asked frantically.

Xaviere was about to respond when his lips and tongue moved on their accord and his mouth spoke on its own.

“My love fear not or I am with you and you are with me.” Xaviere heard himself say. The lovers went into a tunnel that had been dug for the purpose and hid.

“Shambasa, I am afraid. I fear that The Lion of Nubia will…” The woman was speaking before Xaviere clasped his hand over her mouth, shushing her. Xaviere looked into her eyes and she looked into his. In this moment of silence, Xaviere could see clear as day that the woman he held was none other than Petrichor. Yes, she had the face of the most beautiful African he had seen but something about this person strongly convinced him that she was the woman he met at the coffee shop; the same one in his psychology class.

The moment of silence was broken by the galloping horses that passed over head the tunnel. After the horses have gone a distance that the galloping could be barely heard, Xaviere took his hands off her mouth and placed a kiss on them instead.

“Desertwind, the light of my life, the beat of my heart, the blood coursing through my veins, fear not for I am with you.” Xaviere heard himself say. He was impressed at the words he heard. He was fascinated at the fact that he has always been a romantic. Whether as a Canadian born to mixed parents or an African warrior; he will always fall in love and apparently with the same woman. That was truly amazing.

With Petrichor, they met in a coffee shop but what was the story between Shambasa and the mystery woman of sand?