Prologue: The Eye of Anubis.
Author's Note: This prologue is almost purely for the purpose of building up the general feel and plot of the story. It is not required that you read this to understand major plot points. Any plot points seen here are largely planned for future stories. If you don't like this, feel free to skip to Chapter 1 - Part 1.
Ancient Egypt - fifth dynasty: 2417.B.C.
The emerald glowed like a sea with a thousand facets in the flickering light of the torch flame. With tensioned and nervous gasps, giving short and rasping breaths, the shadowy figure tugged once, twice and then three times on the straw rope to which it was tethered. Above the shadow, a square of brilliantly silver moonlight shone in a ghostly manner through a square opening in the roof. Through this opening the rope began to descend, clearly begun strung out be another unseen figure. The first figure gave another slighter, silent gasp as a fine trickle of sandstone rubbed from the roof's edge trickled down and pattered softly onto the stone floor, several metres below. A slight jolt in the tension of the rope caused the figure to whimper slightly as the palm pith and reed torch bobbed and the flame briefly wavered. Steadying the shaking light with a free hand, the figure gave a brief hand signal to continue as the rope became taught once more.
The figure gulped again, feeling ever so much nervous, in fear that the fearsome leopards standing at the base of the statue might look up and spot him. For beside the figure rose an enormous statue that towered almost fifty metres into the air. It stood within an even more enormous sandstone and granite rotunda, with an enormous domed shape and another, yet smaller, domed roof. The figure was descending through a hole made by removing one of the hundreds of tiles that completed the intricate structure. The construction which rose at the centre of the awesome chamber was a gigantic life depiction of the jackal god Anubis. The statue itself composed the very centre of a truly gigantic palace. The inner sides of the grand dome were lined and carved with magnificent hieroglyphic patterns and symbols, forming an intricate language that told of hundreds of years. Many statutes, though far smaller, also adorned the great palace, which in turn capped monumental limestone pillars. Each edifice and pillar in turn was painstakingly painted with many lustrous colours. But it was not for these treasures that the figure had come.
Getting quiet close now, but a few feet away, the figure could now allow its torch to fully illuminate the awesome prize: embedded into the ivory and gold edifice of the face of Anubis lay two great emeralds. Each gem was as large as a chicken's egg. They were said to be the greatest treasures ever found in Egypt. Now they lay here in the very heart of the kingdom, since being rested from the depths of an ancient tomb long buried in the Valley of the Kings. Virtually none of the symbols depicted in the ancient temple had been legible; all that was but a single pictorial passage. The passage told of an ancient race of wise, clever, honest and true families, who had over the centuries gathered their knowledge to be accumulated into a legacy passed on through a single blood line. Over the millennia they had succeeded in strengthening their reputations as the world's greatest line of thieves. This was just about all that the passage could reveal bar one line. This line also stated that even as thieves, they were not villains, but stole from the tyrannous and evil, never tormented the misfortunate and poor and always had a strict code of honour adhering to this rule. This had never been broken. An interesting image the passage had consistently produced was that of several, in fact many, raccoon like figures; as if it were apparent that this was the constant image of the family. Finally, a single name, somewhat rubbed out by sand and grit, had been inscribed in the stone that sealed the temple. This one name was Cooper.
The figure had known all this, in fact studied that passage personally for many days on end until it had memorised the entire contents of it. The figure had known all about this even before now, had already begun to understand the true legend it was part of. But until now it had not really understand the significance that which it personally carried. This seemingly forgotten passage had reignited a long lost link, a lost grip on a story told but past. Now that story was to be reignited and continued. The figure knew that to be true. The very vehicle through which it would prove itself and finally reignite its place in the family lay but a few feet from its grasp. These very objects were the emeralds that lay before the figure embedded in the face of the statue. Wrongfully stolen by a tyrannous leader and used for selfish purposes, the figure now intended to retrieve the objects which had wrongfully been taken from its own family. They would be restored to their rightful place, where they belonged. Not at the heart and mind of a true nemeses, an enemy to his kin. For this was not but an ordinary sneak thief born and bred on the streets of Egypt, but a master thief of absolute cunning and skill. The light from the flickering torch it held revealed it to be a raccoon, adorned in robes and headwear like that of the hieroglyphs in the tomb. A pair of miniature, hooked canes hung at the belt of the raccoon, as also depicted in many of the temple images. This was no ordinary person at all, but a revived member of the Cooper family of legend, finally to begin the legend of the Thievious Raccoonus, the ancient legacy of thieving raccoons. His name was Slytunkhamen.
Slytunkhamen gave a low whistle, so low pitched that it was inaudible to the silently growling leopard guards standing metres below at the statue's gold adorned base. The darkened shadow of his companion on the roof gave a second set of whistles; this time high pitched in reply and slowed the descent of the rope, until it all but stopped. With a brief wave of the hand to give the okay signal, Slytunkhamen turned his body about in mid air to examine the glaring eye of the statue, whose head now rose right beside him. Gingerly he reached out and grasped the edge of the sculpture, pulling himself closer towards it. Groping slightly to remain firmly planted next to it, he watched with butterflies in his stomach as another fine trail of particles rained down to the floor of the palace. In the half-light of the flaming torches held in brackets about the chamber walls, a single leopard who chanced to look up failed to notice the slight and shadowy figure hovering by the statue. He turned back to his vigil of the rotunda floor and Slytunkhamen gave a sigh of relief and gulped slightly as he returned his attention to the gorgeous gem before his eyes. The moon now slid directly over the opening in the dome and lit up its many facets, giving it a radiant green glow. He saw his own face within it for the first time and he felt his heart swell with pride at his family's legend. Hundreds of years from now, he hoped his direct descendent could feel just such a way as he did. A feeling as though they were looking directly into the eye of Anubis, the eye of destiny.
Below him, none of the guards had noticed a single thing. They were all to transfixed at keeping their eyes glued to their immediate surrounds, in knowing fear of the punishment that should await them if the emeralds were to be found missing. Unfortunately, such consequences could not be helped. In any case, Slytunkhamen intended to bring down the ruthless ruler and all that he stood for - as a Cooper he was compassionate above saving lives, sometimes no matter how insignificant or blighted. For now, however, his single goal was to rest the emeralds from Anubis. Reaching out and giving the rope that held him an affirming tug, he begun to rock back and forth, using his feet as leverage to bounce his feet off the surface of the statue. Gradually he felt himself build momentum that continued to build slightly until he had achieved a gently swinging arc. As he rocked back and forth, the emeralds glimmered and blinked at him, tantalising him as he came closer and further from them. At last the swing of the rope bought him in a clean sweep to the face of the statue and he managed to seize the complicated edifice adorning the eye. With his nimble fingers firmly grasping the polished ivory vignette, Slytunkhamen slid one of the miniature canes from his leather belt and jammed it into the narrow grove beside the first emerald. Gritting his teeth, he jerked the handle sharply to the left and the gem popped from the groove like a cork, leaving a polished patch of gold behind it. As it slid from the groove, it slipped between his fingers and he just managed to seize the gem with his sweaty palms, shoving it into a camel skin shoulder pouch, before it dropped to the floor.
With one gem in his possession now, the wily raccoon gave yet another low pitched whistle and his companion on the roof began to tug at the rope. He felt himself swaying gently to the left, rotating around the head of Anubis as his companion revolved the position of the rope. He found himself being treated to a three-sixty degree vista of the awe inspiring construction, in all its majesty. First from the front-on view, then from the side of the head, then at the backside of the elaborate head adornment and finally he arrived at the reverse side of the face, this time with the nose pointing right. He could see the second emerald, seemingly even more admirable than the first, imbedded in the face. He now also saw the majestic inner-reverse-side of the tremendous dome. Many hundreds more hieroglyphs and symbols adorned the textured surface. Flexing his fingers in eager anticipation, Slytunkhamen raised his miniature cane, still clasped in his left hand, and bought it swinging up to face the eye. The sudden movement caused the already frayed rope to groan a little as it strained in earnest to accommodate for a second swinging arc. Again he managed to firmly clasp the vignette about the eye. He plunged the cane into the gap in the groove and gave it a good tug. To his horror he saw the beautiful gem fly right out of its place, float in mid air for a split second, and then drop like a boulder towards the sandstone floor.
With a silent cry of desperation lingering in his throat, Sly-Tutankhamen gave the rope a violently despairing yank and it suddenly came loose. With another jolt of horror he realised that the violent tug had caused his companion to forcefully relinquish the rope. As the emerald fell, so did the master thief after it. Raccoon and gem plunged for a few split seconds before he reached out and managed to scoop the precious relic to his breast. Flinging out a desperate hand to find a hand-hold, he found his grasp closing on the textured edge of Anubis's gown. His body gave a sickening lurch as it came to a sudden halt in mid-air, but ten metres from the ground. He still had managed to save the emerald, having it clasped tightly in the sweating palm of his left hand.
Quickly he shoved it into the camel skin pouch with the first relic and secured the latch. Giving an assuring whistle to his companion up above, who returned it with a second whistle, Slytunkhamen managed to clamber laboriously back up the surface of Anubis until he reached the head, where he could retrieve the rope and toss it back through the roof. Unfortunately, as he returned the end of the rope to the safe hands of his companion, his foot caught a loose chunk of sandstone fallen from the domed ceiling and it toppled off and fell for a few seconds before landing with a muffled thud on a guard's head. Snapping his gaze upwards, the guard was just in time to give a panicked yell as he saw the raccoon disappear through the hole in the roof, both of the emeralds now gone.
The dark, star spangled sky stretched like a deep black blanket over Slytunkhamen as he emerged from the depths of Anubis's chamber and clambered atop the domed roof of the palace. Scurrying quickly away from the hole, pulling the rope with him, he pricked his ears up as he heard several yells emanating from within the palace walls and buildings. He could also hear some angry and hoarse voices, the clacking sound of sandaled feet running over tiled floors and the sounds of doors slamming. He had but a few precious minutes before the guards surged onto the roof and had him cornered-but he planned to be long gone by then. Securing the camel skin pouch about his shoulder, he shoved both of his canes firmly into his leather belt and finally turned to his mysterious accomplice. He looked not upon an adult companion, but a small and tanned looking meerkat. He had found the boy living as a street urchin on the avenues of the bazaar, managing to save an apple or two from the stalls to feed his starved body.
He had pitied the poor boy, taken him in and made him one of his own. The boy had been excellent with agile tricks and other handy skills in a thief's capers. With a thankful grin to the boy, he plucked a single golden coin from his pouch and flicked it to him. The boy leapt up and caught the coin in his furry palms. Admiring the sheen of it, he gave a return glance towards his friend and smiled. Then with a wave, he was off, hopping and scampering over the scattered rooftops. Slytunkhamen watched him disappear into the night air, hoping he would be safe, before turning away to face the twisting paths of the palace buildings and rooftops beyond him. He stuffed the rope into his belt beside the canes and leapt from the glazed dome, soaring like a bat through the night.
Landing atop a second stone rooftop, Slytunkhamen galloped away at a nimble pace as he listened to the roars of the guards below getting closer and closer to the roof. His heart pounded against his ribs as he ran, his eyes focused on the roofs about him. At the edge of the next building he didn't stop to rest, but leapt with a superb arc across the street below and landed cat-like on the next perch. Again he picked himself up silently and continued to run towards the boundaries of the palace, the emeralds jangling in his pouch. He was so concentrated on his immediate flight from danger that he failed to notice a ragged, dark shadow swooping along in the sky immediately behind him. It moved with the silence of a predator ready to strike and only wing-like shapes could be made out upon it. It was the sudden flash of blue light that finally alerted him to his peril.
There was a tremendous crackling sound that bounced off the palace walls and slammed into the raccoon, blowing him off his feet and sending him sprawling to the stone floor. This was followed by a sudden buzzing humming noise that grew louder and louder, to an ever higher pitch before an almost invisible wave of hot air snapped through the sky and again knocked him flat. Finally, a brilliant ball of crackling blue lightening materialized in the sky just above a building beyond him and expanded into a massive wall of energy, a dark vortex opening in its midst. Through the vortex burst a bizarre looking device, an enormous blimp like construction with a large glass canopy stretching around a cabin at the base and several fins and propellers extending from the bloated body of the balloon. Beams of blue light burst from the rear of the strange apparition, propelling from the midst of the vortex, which shrunk and disappeared as the blimp hovered up into the sky. Squinting with his eyes, Slytunkhamen could just make out a figure standing in the cabin, black and white somewhat with a tremendous bushy tail and a mane of curling white hair. But he was too late to realise that the shadow had now taken the chance to surprise him, hovering directly above him. He felt the wind knocked from his chest and saw the pouch containing the emeralds fly from his shoulder and, clunking against the stone edge of the roof, disappear as it dropped off the rooftop and disappeared to the pavement below. He cried out in anguish as they vanished.
Feeling himself tossed over onto his back by a cold grip, Slytunkhamen hit the stone with a sickening crunch as he was lurched about momentarily before being raised in a talon like grasp. He felt a large bruise above his left eye swell as he looked into a pair of blaring red eyes, without pupils and utterly unmerciful. He could only see a dark shadow beyond the floating pair of eyes: the unseen enemy apparently had no body to reveal. He felt chilling hate spread through his body, squeezed into him by the steely talons that clasped him and squeezed him in a merciless grip. His canes clattered to the roof as the shadows' claws raised him higher and held him suspended above the streets several metres beneath. He felt the soulless intention course through him, all pouring from those intense eyes. So much hate, so much pain and so much suffering seemed to pour from their depths. Writhing desperately he raised his face and stared directly into his enemy's gaze, refusing to quiver and cower like a frightened coward before this nemesis. The eyes seemed to flicker briefly at his determination before hardening with a steely look of ice and leering down upon the raccoon. Then Slytunkhamen felt an awful pain sear through his chest as a flash of steel sliced across his vision. He looked down to see a red rose of brilliantly red blood blossoming from his chest, where the claw had impaled him. He gave a last rasping gasp of painful anguish as he felt himself being dropped and falling: the shadow vanished.
The night closed in around him.
It is Your Destiny...
This destiny was foisted upon you, but only because you are meant to be great. You are unique but only as strong as your own heart. Ultimately this responsibility falls to you, and the decisions you make, but I know that you will have the strength. You were meant to be here. It is all up to you now. But never forget the value of compassion – for that is what makes you different. Never give in to temptation and despair. It is not weakness but strength.
Never forgot who you are – do not compromise your true nature. That is how we survive and how we will survive. Only then are we true masters. Without that we are nothing, nothing. What would we be but like the fiends who plague this world? We live to fight against them, stand-out as a beacon of hope. There cannot be light without darkness or darkness without light. But goodness will always prevail, while there are those with conviction and belief to combat it. You are more than your enemies because you know what it is to hurt, to feel lose: making you more fortunate than they ever will be.
Yes, we are neither all good nor bad ourselves, but the world never truly is. But there are those who fight for a reason and those who just fight for gain. We fight for a reason, because we believe in more than material gain. Our skill gives us insight and power, power which could be abused. Never forget your responsibility. The legacy, and what you choose to do with it, will depend on the future – your future. When the time comes you may question your path. Then you will have the strength to go on. Just remember your identity.
You might wonder why this responsibility has been put upon you: why we ever became the legend you were told of. This is because we believed in, from the beginning, that one can choose their path but remember what really matters. Never let your ambition cloud what is truly important. This dream has been passed on to you from generation to generation. What we do is what we believe in: we believe there is true potential that exists in what we do. Because we can accept that there will be goodness, but times where we must slip towards a darker side of ourselves, we know what it is to be strong.
Not of physical strength or of athletic prowess. These are tools of our trade but not what we centrally value. We value knowledge, without which you would not be. Without that this story would never have happened. It takes great people to make what we have – not what we possess. You and only you are what set you apart. In times of darkness, you will know when to make the right choices. You will know how you must draw on your strength. You were born, never intended to suffer this conflict. Heroes are not born but made.
Through our belief we have overcome what we despise: we never forgot that we fight for a reason. Never take a life. This is our foundation. If this is your destiny, what you have chosen, then you can be great. But only you will know when the time is right. You shall make those chooses and I know you will make them well. You must trust yourself to interoperate what is right. There is good in what we do, while the wonderful wealth of potential can be explored. But you must have faith, for it only has potential while you believe.
Protect this – protect my family and pass this on to my son: love will be your guide. You will take over from me now; become the true master you were always destined to be. Fill my place and protect my son, my wife. They must live or there will be unimaginable consequences. When the time is right, pass the book to my son. Pass the legend onto him when he is ready. Then will my destiny be complete. Go, for it is your path. You have the potential – the spirit – to be unique.
You deserve this, for you are the true master of thieves.
Son of a Thief...
It is time that I told you who you are: who you can be if you make that choice – why you were born into this family. You are my son, destined for great things. It is now in your hands to carry on the work I have done: I now hand this on to you. Remember that I may not always be there for you. There will come a time when you must act by your own heart. Never ignore your instincts, for that is where you're heart lies and your true self also. When I am gone, that will tell you what you must do. Only you can decide on your path.
When you face adversity you will know how to tackle it. I cannot deny that there will be times when you will struggle, when you may suffer pain and regret. But never give in to despair. Goodness will always prevail if belief is there to find it. Remember that I have always believed in you. Tonight will be the time when I intend to pass my work onto you; the very treasure of our family. What you do with this knowledge is up to you, but never forget that it can be abused. Only if you give in to temptation - only once you cannot tell ambition from what really matters. Do not hunger for power, but appreciate it for the wealth it can give you. We have the power of knowledge, which is far greater than any strength. We have the ability to feel compassion: which gives anyone strength over the darkest foe.
While I may be gone in body, I remain in spirit as long as you remember me. Remember me for who I was and what I did for you, my son. But I can only stay with you while you believe in me. If you don't remember me as the loving father I tried to be, then I am only as good as the faith you placed. I hope for your sake that I could give you love – that which you needed and will need. Remember that knowing your weakness is strength, not a failure. You are more precious to me than any gold or wealth. That which is most precious and desirable of all, more so than any treasure: the ability to love, one who loves you.
For if you chose to follow this path – the path laid out for you by your ancestors – then compassion will become your strongest weapon. You will need conviction to believe in what we do: good exists in it. Believe there is a reason for what you are doing. Believe that there is something you fight for; not just because you can. I hope you feel this, but the ultimate chose rests with you. You will do as you see fit in times to come, and I know that you will do what is most true to your heart. A son I will always be proud of. Your mother would be proud of.
I say this now because I know that soon I may be gone. Soon there may be those who seek to destroy us, strip us of our legacy. Only through jealously and hatred would one go this far. I beg you, when you are older and I am gone, that you do not give in to this. For then we would be gone: the code we have kept would be shattered. But you have proved that you are above this. You know what it is to laugh, to cry and to feel despair followed by remorse. But you also know what it is to feel hope. These people have no hope: to feel hope is to believe in the future and believe in your path. You believe that you can overcome your darkest fears, and emerge triumphant. Do not cast aside one you love, who loves you also. No matter how hard it seems or conflicted. In the hardest times, they will provide light – be there for you when you really need it. It may take time, but they will understand; one day.
Hold your friends close and hold your loved ones close. Value them and treasure them, for they are greater than any prize. When you take my place, remember that we seek fulfilment in skill, but never at the price of a life lost; never by hurting an innocent. This nature is our true legacy.
So that begins the story, but only hints at the greater plot. The actual narrative will be largely added to with a greater amount of original content and characters. It will thus not be an exact account of the game and thus hopefully enjoyable. I hope you enjoy reading it - Creative Raccoon!