Two Hooligans

Up on the tallest mountain near battleground, surrounded by tall trees and the sounds of the forest, there was this little tent tucked away in the greenery. Sunlight peeked through the leaves, making patterns of light and shadow dance around. It was like the forest had its own secrets to share.

Nestled amidst the grandeur of nature, the tent stood where three winding paths intersected, each leading to a different destination. Here, amidst the convergence of these ancient pathways, lay the heart of a strategic outpost of mughals guarded by a small unit of twenty soldiers.

Though the space was cramped, with little room to stand and maneuver, the soldiers stood steadfast in their duty, their eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of movement.

Amidst the rugged beauty of the landscape, the outpost seemed to be a restricted area where not even a bird would dare to fly without the permission.

Within the grand tent atop the forested mountaintop, Mughal Badshah Afzal, a mere 13 years old, sat upon his throne, his expression one of restlessness and anxiety.

A woman dancer swayed gracefully to the rhythmic melodies as if her movements are like of a fluid, which changed forms matching the music. Adorned in decorated garments that hardly covered any of her private parts, she moved with a mesmerizing grace, captivating the attention of all who watched.

As she danced, the soft curves of her form were subtly revealed, adding to the allure of her performance. Her jiggly curves were juggling so much from her dance moves, as almost pleading to pop out of the thin clutches of her dress top she actually wore.

Despite the luxuries surrounding him, Afzal's gaze wandered outside the tent as his mind is preoccupied with affairs of his people. Two maids fanned him gently, attempting to alleviate the discomfort of the warm evening air, yet their efforts seemed futile in capturing the young emperor's attention.

In front of him, there was this huge table full of delicious fruits and treats, all looking so tempting and colourful. But Afzal didn't even touch them. Instead, he seemed lost in his own thoughts, probably thinking about all the stuff he had to deal with as a ruler. One could easily see that it was weighing him down, even though he's just a kid.

As the servants went about their tasks with forced smiles, one could easily feel the tension in the air. Despite their efforts to entertain their young master, it was clear that Afzal wasn't impressed as he was forced to tolerate such things as instructed by his mentor Bairam Khan to learn the way of Mughals. But Afzal's lack of interest in the lavishness was hard to miss.

As the everything seemed to be too peaceful and boring, suddenly, a deafening explosion shattered the calmness. The elite guards sprang into action, their hurried footsteps echoed through the near by tent as they rushed to ensure the safety of the young Badshah Afzal.

Afzal's heart raced with fear as he was ill-prepared for such bizarre phenomena. Clutching onto the dancer, whose presence had once seemed nuisance, he found peace in her comforting embrace. The softness of her touch offered a brief respite from the chaos unfolding around them.

Meanwhile, the other maids, also panicked, hugged each other for comfort. Their faces showed they were worried about what was happening. In the quiet of the forest, fear spread among them, making them all feel scared.

"Badshah Salamat, are you unharmed?" inquired the concerned guard, his voice laced with urgency.

"I... I'm fine," stammered Afzal, his grip tightening around the dancer beside him, seeking solace in her comforting presence.

"What are your orders, my lord?" pressed the guard, eager for direction amidst the turmoil.

"We must prepare to retreat if the enemy draws near," Afzal commanded, his voice wavering slightly. "And ensure the safety of this woman as you would for me."

With a nod of understanding, the guard acknowledged the directive in other way, assumed the woman had gained the young royal's favour.

"The explosion originated from the path leading to our retreat," the guard informed, his brows furrowed in concern.

Perplexed by this revelation, Afzal pondered the motive behind such an unconventional attack strategy. Nonetheless, he swiftly formulated a plan to investigate and address the potential threat.

"Gather a group of fifteen soldiers to investigate," Afzal instructed, his tone firm. "Five will remain here to stand guard."

The guard hesitated, attempting to dissuade Afzal from his chosen course of action.

"But sire, what of the alternative path?" he implored, voicing his reservations.

Afzal remained resolute, his youthful determination shining through his uncertainty.

"That path is still unexplored. It can lead to uncertain loss in the jungle's depths," Afzal reasoned. "Advancing toward the battlefield would be rash. In the event of danger, fire a distress arrow. Our elite guards are more than capable of holding their ground until reinforcements arrive."

After hesitating for a moment, the guard agreed to Afzal's firm decision, seeing the sense in the young king's choices given the chaotic situation.

Once the guards left the tent, everything got real quiet, like right before a big storm hits. Just when they thought things were calming down, Out of nowhere, smoke erupted.

From the depths of the forest,a cloaked figure emerged, launching dampened leaves wrapped in cloth towards them. The moist leaves smouldered, releasing thick smoke that sent the guards into fits of coughing and choking. Panic spread as the smoke infiltrated the tent, driving everyone out in search of clean air, oblivious to the impending trap.

"What's going on? Where's this smoke coming from?" the guard demanded, bewildered.

"Out of the tent, now!" Afzal commanded urgently.

"I can't breathe!" one of the maids cried out for help.

Shoosh!

In the chaos of fleeing the suffocating smoke, arrows began to rain down, finding their targets amidst the confusion, leaving only bodies of guards strewn with arrows.

As the smoke began to clear, an imposing burly hooligan emerged from the shadows, his face concealed, chanting foreboding words. Their presence struck fear into the hearts of the women, whose cries pierced the air.

"Har Har Mahadev!" (war cry) the burly assailant shouted.

"Who... who are you? Stay away!" the dancer pleaded in panic.

In a valiant attempt to protect the women, Afzal seized a fallen guard's sword, and poised to confront the intruders.

"Stay back! I won't let you harm them!" Afzal declared boldly.

THUD!

But before he could react, a swift blow to his neck left him unconscious, his weapon slipping from his grasp.

Afzal fell down while grunting in pain.

"Silence, all of you!" the slender figure hooligan appeared out of thin air amidst the smoke roared, silencing the women with a menacing glare as they trembled in fear.

Bound and blindfolded, the captives were confined and Afzal was picked up while concealing the tracks of assailants.

"Jai Maa Bhawani!" (war cry) the slender assailant bellowed triumphantly.

As they got ready to leave, one of the attackers boldly placed Hemu's waving flag among the defeated guards, showing their allegiance. It was none other than Aditya and Bheem, who deserted their post to target the core weakness of mughals, their Badshah.

With a final shout, they vanished into the forest with Afzal, leaving chaos and confusion behind. This happened just before the Mughal guards arrived to look into the matter. Little did they know that these two hooligans have already changed the aftermath of the battle.

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