Noise from the confrontation cause many heads to turn even though they didn't dare to look up. Her eyes swish back and forth from the target on her back. She noticed movements coming closer to her.

Notwithstanding, she had drawn attention to herself but straight away she tried to seek the shadows. Despite her efforts two unyielding hands wrapped around her, lifting her from the ground getting that was getting further and further away. She was sacked upon leather shoulders. In her mind she cursed the constant feeling unmercifully.

A flurry of kicks and punches were thrown at the captor. The action only made the grip on her stronger. Wiggling fiercely, she tried to squirm out of his hold. This was futile as the man didn't even budge. It was getting strenuous to breathe.

"Let go!!"" She berated his back in hopes of relief.

Her voice came in gasp and disturb the solemness of the still market. Soon big wisps of air greeted her desperate lungs as she felt the pressure on her release. Her eyes almost went back into her head. Once it felt like the blood flow had returned to normal she was met with the wild gaze of the man who grabbed her. His shocked look surpass her grip on reason.

"ماهلوش" He turned to face the other guard.

"عزّي" This time is was his voice she heard. A surprisingly young melodious voice.

Another blow of the trumpet came and soon the people raised their heads and the streets were alive again. The once inanimate bodies strung up like marionettes. Nobody gave a second thought about her.

Songs and laughter slowly found their ways unto the lips of the people. However, they became fainter as clad footsteps led away from the action of the market. Those same feet led to a more deserted part of the city. It was obfuscous and draped in secrecy. Beggars huddled to the corners of cracking clay walls. Though not completely but the place give the ambiance of abandonment. The roads felt as if they were falling out. Scurrying of rats were evident. Residents of the area, which she would occasionally witness, kept hidden and watchful. Mentally, she had attempt to memorize the direction from which they came. However, the adrenaline rush made keeping a grip difficult.

They came to a stop. Eliza couldn't see up front but she was sure they had reached their destination. It sent a chill in her heart. With great effort she gave one last push for freedom. The slamming of the door only sealed her fate.

Inside was cool. A wistful wish fulfilled before sudden doom.

Ideas and images pierce her head. It was probable what would happen to her in a situation like this. What would happen to any women in a foreign land. She wouldn't, no, she couldn't go without a fight.

Her jailer set her down softly on frigid stone that melted off the hotness of the desert. She glanced around frantically. There was not much within the room.

The door, her salvation, was being blocked by the guard who at the moment was thankfully distracted. The front of the living space was two sets of table. One on top of an ornamental rug with big cushions. The other was to the side held a lovely tea set next to dark grains.

She looked to the back and to her eternal happiness was another escape. An idea popped into her mind. Now all she needed was a distraction long enough to make way. To the right her eyes caught the key to bring it into fruition.

Four golden vases lighten up the dreary atmosphere. The shape was simple but the embroidery was what made them worthwhile.

While there was still time she made way for one of them. Just as she was ready to make way her eyes were darken by the shadow of her jailer. They were at a standstill.

"Don't move, or I'll drop it!!"

With hands high she dared him to take another step. Her eyes was desperately glancing at the back door then to man in front of her.

"Wait!!"

That voice wasn't her own. It was deep and silence the room. That didn't stop what she tried to do next. Once the vase was in the air the only option was to try her luck.

Her hasty hands reach for the wooden door but quickly shrink back when it opened. The light that poured in was shadowed by a tall figure. A young woman stood by in the entrance. She looked surprise for a moment then the door behind her was shut swiftly. A pair of hands blocked her view.

Eliza looked to the left and right. The two figure started to enclose her. When in a possible life or death situation there are two options everyone is given. Fight or flee. She weighed her options. Her back was against the wall although it wasn't the first time, the circumstances was generally the same.

In a situation when you have to fight someone bigger than you first option would be to deescalate the problem. The best way to win a fight is to avoid one. Anyhow, when that choice is not possible the next step will to be on guard.

"What do you want from me??" She hope to keep them occupied.

Her body was on edge but she knew she had to remain placid.

It however was killed by haggard laughter from the sizable lady. It continue on for a good minute. Finally, she was caught off when she tried to speak to the guard. After half whispering or more like wheezing she got a hold of herself before turning back to Eliza.

"من أنت؟" She spoke but it carried no understanding.

Subsequently the befuddlement was clear.

"This is Shelia, mine helper." The man spoke languidly. He had retrieve to the further back.

The taller girl gave the widest, brightest smile in the room. Eliza looked at the face that helped her and immediately felt calmer, strangely. The woman eyes was crystal clear. Whenever she smiled the freckles on her clay skin would dance and her teardrop earrings would dangled about.

With her wits calmed she looked at the strangers with skepticism. Her feet managed to inched away from them both, eyes wandering all over.

"What are you aiming at?" She wanted them to keep talking.

They shared a silent communication.

"We just wanteth to keepeth thee safe." Only the guy spoke.

"Do you know a way out of here?"

She minded the breathing room they gave her. In the end though the doors were still blocked.

"if 't be true thee wend out...those gents wilt lock thee up" His words was spoken slowly and with great pain as he would stop to think before continuing.

His words were slippery and it was difficult to get all at once.

Relapses of earlier came back to her. It was strange how everyone at the market stopped when the trumpet sound. Like an arrival of a king. The mere fact of her not bowing was disrespectful and outright treason, if her intuition was right. Nevertheless, none of that make sense. There wasn't many kings and monarchs in modern times but, there was still traditional villages.

The conclusion she drew was a comfort to her mind. Somehow, she had been carried to a strange place. Was this a game of a sick bastard. Someone rich enough to build this whole place for pleasure? None of her suggestion about the situation held through. Each withering like a crumbing rose as she run over the events prior. Nothing made sense and that scared her down to her soul.

"Fine. Just don't try anything funny."

In the end it would be best if she find somewhere to stay for a while, With that, the tension from the air disperse along with her strength to hold on.

~

When she got up she found herself in a dark room. The curtains were drawn. She was on a creaking wooden bed. It was unfamiliar. In the distance the singing of pots and pans could be heard past the door. Faintly, she slide her way into the hallway. The halls were short and quickly she turned the corner to find a lanky and frail woman.

Shelia?

It hit her. She remembered the absurdity of all that had happen.

Soft steps made their way to her as she was dazed in thought. Calm hands guided her to the living room setting her on one of the big cushion seat. Finally, she saw the giddy eyes of the woman as smiled down at her. It showed no malice, greed or vulgar intention. Soon she disappeared to the back. Promptly returning with a bulky glass. platter. A bowl of hot food and cutlery was placed in front of her. A thankful bow was given to the lady and soon she was left to eat. In the bowl was one big soft dough perched in a savory soup. She toked a bite and was met with sweetness then voluminous spices of the bread. In a matter of minutes everything was scarfed down. A slightly cool cup of black tea managed its way on the table. Assuming its origin she cleanse her palette with it.

A influx of calm and strength flowed in her body. A feeling she had never felt since childhood. While stuffing her face she checked for the one missing person. The guard was nowhere to be seen and Shelia was cooking in the kitchen. Her consciousness appeared still and distant. Outside the sun rays was still as intense as ever.