Meekly, Guan Chi agreed, and rushed down the stairs carved out of the Wall to swing his sword - it felt
like it weighed a ton. It never made contact. It hit the ground with a sudden ear-splitting grinding noise and
imbedded itself deep into the cold blood soaked ground. He was thrown off his feet by a Mongolian who swung
his lethal axe in the forehead of another worker where it was wrenched out which a gushing stream of blood.
Guan Chi was horrified; this was not what he was paid for, bloodthirsty war, but he knew that if he lingered
any longer he was certain to be killed. Without wasting time he swiftly ducked under a nearby bridge of the
Wall. He was confident that he could escape. He leaped over a pile of corpses, his heart in his mouth, his breath
panting and uncertain. His will was strong but he lacked courage. Only the thought of seeing his family kept
him persevering, but on the outside it was the opposite. He had thought too soon. Before he knew it, he was
caught and a prisoner of war,. He had tried his luck at the wrong moment; watching with despair at the warriors
on their way to the Dragon city.
He was dragged in chains towards the Mongol tribes homeland, treated with little respect and barely fed
enough to survive in the harsh, treacherous, mountains of Mongolia. The warriors just considered him a
barbarian. Many prisoners died from starvation. Luck teased him, fate avoided him, and death loomed over
him; a constant irritant. The cold, despair, hunger and labour destroyed him from the inside, his heart hardened
and he was much more aggressive. Days went by, with the tiny hope that he could possibly escape again and
hide in the mountains. Each passing day he grew more confident of escape, but weaker in strength. The urge to
see his family was so great; his heart burned at the thought of them being separated by a wall hundreds of miles
away from them. He would escape somehow back into China.
Under the cover of the fog he sneaked out, not even disturbing the birds sleeping, early in the morning, a
shadow in the darkness. Days passed for he had no sense of time; he would only stumble and hope for no
obstacles as his hope faltered. He knew there had to had an end to his misery, to see his land again. One last
time before he might be driven mad or die in the freezing mountains. Over the morning sun over the horizon
shone and he thought he could make out a faded shape in the distant mountain.
Quickly he mustered all the strength he had and rose towards the figure from where he had been lying
motionless. He was certain it was a mirage but he was still young and believed in certain miracles. On his last
legs; his last resort - with final desperation he ran without energy then stopped.
For a moment he pictured the Grim Reaper standing over him calling for him; he turned away and screamed.
He blacked out.
He found himself lying on a cold stone hard surface and slowly rose and looked around. Cheerful smiles
greeted him and he was given food, what he had desired for days. He was given rest and food for the long
remaining trek back over the border into the Dragon city. However long his journey was now going to be, there
was one thing he knew for certain, he was on his way back to his family, back to the Great Wall of China.
* * *