Egypt, Avaris, 1906
The scorching sun must be closer to this place, this city of Avaris, as her father called it, than anywhere in the world. Alexandria Robinson was sure of it. The seven year old lifted her dress to her brow, wiping away as much sweat as she could before the local workers turned around and were made aware of her knickers. Pressing the folds of the material back into place around her ankles, she walked gingerly towards the monstrous hole of dirt, where her father was busy yelling at the workers.
"La la la la la! Not there! La! Gently! Nam, yes, moomtaz, very good." He patted the man known as Kazeem on the shoulder and climbed up the makeshift stairs from the hole, shoving rolled up papers into his back pocket and wiping his glasses on his shirt.
Daniel Robertson had been searching for any proof that the Cult of Seth, located in Avaris, had once been part of dark dealings with the god of Chaos, who now laid dormant within the Earth, his soul supposedly trapped within the Scroll of Set, according to legend. Supposedly a high priest, Horwed, had finally discovered the way in which to imprison the untamable, malignant god after his dealings with the Cult had taken a deadly turn. The battle between man and god had cost Horwed his life, but his name had become infamous, in a sense; a hero who should not have been involved in such negative dealings in the first place. His name had all but been reduced to legend and his body supposedly lost to the sands by the time Daniel decided to go searching for evidence to prove that the duel was anything but a tall tale.
Alexandria ran to her father and attached herself to his leg. Each day he spent in the hole could mean a day he might succumb to the heat, or might fall off the rickety ladder provided by the men under his watchful eye. WIth the loss of her mother only a few years back, her father was what she had, and out here in this vast wasteland his presence acted as her oasis.
"Look, Alex," Daniel said, bending down to show his daughter a piece of chipped pottery with strange markings on them. Alexandria couldn't read the markings, but thanks to her father's research, she knew they were hieroglyphics of some sort. "These markings right here read 'rwed,' but the first part is cut off. It's definitely a good sign. Perhaps we're getting close to where Horwed was laid to rest."
Alexandria nodded silently and followed her father under the monstrous tent that served as her father's research area, their home, and their cooking station during the nights and days when the weather became too hot even for the local workers. While she found this ancient Egyptian stuff interesting, she didn't really see the point in being too excited about one little pottery shard. For Alexandria, seeing a mummy or even some sort of gold would've been a lot more interesting. But so far for her and her father, there was no such luck.
Daniel sat down and began to lightly dust off the broken piece with a small, brush almost as dusty as the pottery shard itself. Alexandria watched over his shoulder as he held the piece gently, ever so gently, just as he had held her for the first time, the brush strokes almost like a soft whisper against the ancient clay. She attempted to hold her breath in order to not distract him, but it did not work. He turned around to smile at her, his brushing tool still lightly caressing the pottery shard distractedly.
"Want to try?" he said, standing up and patting the seat. Alexandria lightly sat down, the bottom of the chair still warm from the midday heat and from her father's frame. Daniel handed her the brush and she began to lightly brush with her right hand, her left hand squeezing the piece so as not to knock it to the ground.
"So, what exactly do you think of while you're down there, dad? I mean, doesn't it get boring when you don't find something and it's just dusty and hot?"
Her father let out a chuckle and leaned it to admire her handiwork. The carved hieroglyphics began to clear of ancient dust, and her father suddenly took the piece from her, blowing on it to clear any remaining specks.
"Well, mostly I'm thinking about the task at hand. Sometimes I'll think about you, or maybe what life was like in ancient Egypt. And sometimes I'll think about your mother." He gave Alexandria a small squeeze on her shoulder, and she handed the shard back to him, unsure of what to say.
"I think she would be surprised at how much you've grown to look like her. All brunette and all spunk," Daniel said quietly, almost as if he was speaking more to himself than to his daughter. "She'd be damn proud, that's for sure."
Alexandria paused for a moment. "Dad, if Egyptian gods do exist, where would mommy be exactly? I mean, do Egyptian gods and God exist together? Or what?"
Daniel laughed again. "So many questions beyond your age. You've got her brains too." He put down the artifact. "I'd like to think that whatever is true, your mother is definitely in paradise, wherever that may be. She certainly deserves to be there." He turned to her, his grin widening. "And since Seth is at bay, there's no need to worry about chaos affecting Ma'at either."
Ma'at was the newest Egyptian concept Daniel had taught his daughter during their month-long stay in Avaris. Whenever, he could spare time, Alexandria's father would teach her Egyptian words and their meaning. Ma'at, which Alexandria found extremely fun to say, was the goddess of truth, balance, and order. Alexandria hoped that if Ma'at were real, she would be there to protect Alexandria's mother.
Suddenly, an excited cry from outside the tent caught the attention of Alexandria and her father. Both ran to the source of the noise, and found the diggers pulling from the sands a tattered and large scroll attached to something else. As they continued to lightly pull the scroll, a pair of boney, papery hands appeared from beneath the sands, the skeleton's grasp upon the scroll as strong today as it must've been in ancient times. Each digger, including Daniel himself, jumped back at the sudden appearance of the decrepit form. The diggers holding the body overcame their shock and laid the mummy lightly in the sands before stepping back, allowing Alexandria's father to approach.
Daniel crouched above the figure and slowly, gently, successfully pried the ancient scroll from its hands. Sitting on the sand, he slowly unschooled the words and silently deciphered. Alexandria, much to the chagrin of the diggers surrounding her, climbed down into the hole and sat next to her father. This time, he did not acknowledge her in any way as he continued to read. She could hear him whispering the words of the ancient, dead Egyptian tongue under his great, his head movements following his eyes as he scanned rapidly. Suddenly, he stood up in a fury.
"Gentlemen! This is it! Inshallah! This is what we have been searching for! Look for yourselves!" He climbed from the hole, Alexandria at his heels, and ran to the tent to roll out the scroll underneath proper shade. A few of the diggers - those who actually seemed to have interest in what they were searching for - crowded around him to see the object up close. Daniel grabbed a stubby pencil and notebook and began to translate the pictures into words.
"I, Horwed, seeker of the god of Seth, seeker of threat to Ma'at, fool of a man, hereby imprison this god…"
As her father read out loud, Alexandria noticed the men who had stayed outside near the dig site were moving in a formation towards the tent, as opposed to lazily straggling. It was strange. And they appeared to be carrying something. What it was, Alexandria couldn't quite tell, but it aroused her suspicion. She tapped her father on the shoulder, but he was so entranced with his work he didn't notice.
Suddenly, shots rang out, and the man standing next to Alexandria collapsed to the ground, a river of crimson flowing from his chest. She screamed and instinctually jumped into her father's lap, clinging to his neck, her nails digging into the skin. She felt her father's frame freeze beneath her, and at the same time, a cold, round object was pressed to her neck.
"Both of you, with us," sneered one of the men. He cocked his gun for emphasis, and Alexandria felt her father lift her off his lap, place her on the ground, and grab her hand as he faced the voice calling to him. Alexandria looked up and found one of the younger diggers - Mahmoud, she believed his name was - giving the pair a most deadly glare as they exited the tent. Alexandria turned around and saw another digger grab the pottery shard and scroll before the butt of the gun smacked her in the head, forcing her to turn forward.
"Gentlemen, if this is about money, I assure you, force and murder were not necessary," Alexander said. His voice sounded professional, but Alexandria knew that twinge of anger underneath. It was the same voice he used whenever she refused to go to bed. Except this voice didn't hold the slightest of warmth in it.
"We are not men looking for money, Mr. Robertson. If we were, we would've robbed you and left you for dead long ago. We are here to collect something much more powerful, much more potent, and much more deadly."
"I do not understand." Alexandria and her father were on their knees, their arms above their heads in surrender. Daniel's hip touched his daughter's lightly, and despite the circumstances, she was only slightly comforted to know he was so close. The workers surrounded them in a circle, their guns resting against their chests, their eyes on the duo.
"We are here to release Seth from his imprisonment, Mr. Robertson. And you are just the right man for the position. After all, it was us who financed and volunteered to help with your dig, was it not? The lowly workers? The brown-faced fools, as so many tourists call us? No one would suspect local imbeciles of such a crime, after all. And we know this place like the imprints on our skin-the authorities do not."
"I do not understand," Daniel said. "Why even tell us as much? Unless…." His voice trailed off and his lips shut in such a thin line they almost couldn't be seen. "No. Please. No my Alex. You may take my life, but please spare hers. She is an innocent."
"She is a witness, therefore she is not innocent. We will dispose of you both - after you perform the ritual." Mahmoud sneered as he walked towards the pair. "Worry not. At least you will both be reunited in the afterlife." He walked away from them towards one of the members of the group.
Alexandria, too afraid to lower her tired hands to wipe the tears away from her eyes, let them fall into the sand, causing it to coagulate and darken. She felt a hand reach hers and saw that her father, quickly and subtly, had given her hand a squeeze before pulling away. She looked from her father's hand to the crowd of men before her. Each had a neutral expression on his face save for one: Kazeem. He subtly looked between father and daughter frantically, as if to convey a message. He looked towards Daniel but nodded in Alexandria's direction. She looked up and saw her father give him a short nod, which he returned. She dare not ask what it meant while they were captive, but her curiosity was potent nonetheless.
Both men looked away from one another as Mahmoud appeared before Alexander, throwing the scroll at his feet and placing the barrel of the gun at the back of his neck.
"Read."
As he said the words, the men surrounding the circle, Kazeem included, lifted their guns to the ready and cocked them, the clicking sounds deafening in the quiet desert night. A small sob escaped Alexandria's mouth, but it went unnoticed.
Her father gingerly reached for the scroll, unraveling it carefully. Even under pain of death, Daniel Robertson had an innate respect for antiquity. As he began reading the ancient words, slowly, the hieroglyphs on the scroll began to glow a bright red. And there was something on the scroll that Alexandria hadn't noticed before - a dog-like figure on the top left of the page. His ears were extremely tall, and he held a staff almost as tall as them. Alexandria realized him to be the god Seth -the very one that the men were trying to raise from his papyrus prison. Much to her horror, as she watched the figure, he, a god imprisoned in a 2D setting, turned his head to look towards her father, his eyes glowing red as well.
Suddenly, the red glow from within the scroll began to seep out flowing into the cool night air. It slithered outwards and caressed each individual as it passed, including Alexandria, although she felt nothing to the touch. Then, just as it had begun to seep out, the red ether was sucked back into the scroll, even as her father continued to speak. Only now did Alexandria notice that he was no longer reading from the scroll. Instead, he seemed to be saying the words from deep within a part of himself that had long since been tucked away. Then, at a speed so fast it almost seemed like it had not happened, the scroll ripped into four pieces and scattered into the night air, the smell of smoke lingering in the air. She stared at the air, stunned for a moment, before her father's head was pushed to the ground by Mahmoud's foot.
"You! What did you do?" In one swift move, Mahmoud's gun rested against her father's scalp, the pressure of it causing Daniel to wince. Daniel remained quiet. "What. Did. You. DO?" He pushed the gun in further, and a small drop of blood dirtied her father's hair.
"Seth will not rise," he said. "And even if you do find the pieces, you will have no way of resurrecting your chaotic force. Ma'at will remain restored."
It was the last time Alexandria heard her father's voice. In the next moment, gunfire rang out, and her father's lifeless body fell next to her, his eyes open in an empty stare. She let out a blood-curdling scream before insanity broke loose. Suddenly, explosions happened to her left and right, causing sparks to fly around the men all scattered, their voices yelling out Arabic words she could not understand. She ran, she didn't know where to run, but she ran. Suddenly, her pace was cut short by two dark hands wrapping around her tiny body. She screamed into the man's shirt, and felt breath in her ear.
"Alexandria, do not fight. It is me, Kazeem. Your father was attempting to tell me that I should be the one to take care of you. I am the one who threw the firecracker to distract the men in order to rescue you. And now, that is what I am going to do."
And with that, he lifted her from the ground and raced to the nearest sand dune, his breath even as his pace quickened, a seven-year-old orphan openly sobbing in his arms.