DISCLAIMER: All characters that actually exist in the Indiana Jones series belong to Lucas and Spielberg.

Chapter 1: Kamau Kawar

El Jawf, Libya, 245 AD

A black-skinned man with a thick but short beard sat at a wooden table. His small five year old daughter sat on his knee. She stared up at him like he was an odd sight in the house. Across the room, his wife was settling the other four down into their blankets. Each got progressively younger by a year.

The little girl in the man's lap reached up and patted his whiskers. 'Baba?'

The man sighed and spoke in their native tongue. 'Yes, Adeola, this is baba.'

'Where you go?'

'All right.' His wife bustled over. 'Adeola, it's time to go to bed.' She picked the little girl up out of his hands.

'Nite-nite, baba.' Adeola waved.

'Goodnight.'

His wife went over and tucked her in bed with her brothers and sister. Then she closed the curtains and crossed back over. Planting her hands on her hips, she stared down at him. He looked up at her.

'Kamau Kawar,' she began in a harsh voice, 'what are you doing back here? I thought you'd be proudly shooting well-dressed men right now.'

Kamau dropped his head. 'I'm sorry, Chinaza.'

The scowl vanished from her face. It was replaced by a puzzled frown, her brow furrowed. 'You're sorry? What are you talking about?'

'I made a mistake,' Kamau said. 'I thought it'd be so simple. Get a weapon, kill all of the dictators and that would be the end of our problems. I thought I'd be a hero. You were right.' He sighed heavily and dropped his head into his hands. 'All we're doing is getting people killed.'

Chinaza huffed and pressed her lips to the side. 'I told you that long ago, Kamau. Now what are you going to do about it?'

Kamau looked up at her. 'I don't know. Nothing's clear to me anymore.' He exhaled. 'I suppose that is what happens when reality decides to slap you in the face.'

Chinaza turned her head curiously. 'Who died?'

'Who didn't die?' Kamau dropped his head. 'Me. Only me.'

'They shot at you.' Chinaza said it as a statement of fact. 'In their masses. Is this what it takes for you to realise your own idiocy?'

'Yes, and believe me, Chinaza, I am sorry.' Kamau slipped from the stool and knelt before his wife. 'I'm sorry to you and I'm sorry to them.' He pointed to the curtain where their children slept. 'You could never know how sorry.'

Chinaza's face softened. She stepped forward and embraced her husband. He hugged her tight. Chinaza dropped a kiss onto her husband's head. He buried his face in her belly, tears dampening her dress.

'You won't stop fighting, though, Kamau,' Chinaza said, her voice soft and gentle. 'It isn't who you are.'

'I cannot let my children grow up like this.' His voice was muffled under her arms but his determination was clear. 'I just don't know how to do it. Please…help me.'

Chinaza scrutinised the wall for a long moment. Then she said, 'Behaze.'

Bedford, USA, 1926

Hazel eyes flew open and Indiana Jones bolted up in bed. He panted for breath. Why the hell did he keep seeing this stuff? This was the third night. The first one, he saw how this Kamau Kawar got involved in the guerrilla activities against this Dictator Fiskal guy, the way Chinaza Kawar cried to him, tears streaming down her face, that he'd only get himself killed, that he'd endanger the family, at which time she'd only been pregnant with Adeola. He'd seen Kamau ignore her and go anyway.

The second night Kamau had been enjoying it all, fighting and, when away for extended periods, sleeping around with any woman that caught his eye, despite the fact that he had a wife and, at that point, three children at home. Indy saw a complete asshole with a gun. That dream had ended with an ambush on one of the El Jawf's politicians. Now this.

Indy laid back. At least now he saw a human being under there. Before, he hadn't liked this guy at all. Now, he realised with distaste, that Kamau Kawar was more like him than Indy would like. He slept around pretending those women were Chinaza, the same way Indy had started sleeping around pretending the women were Marion.

Speaking of which…Indy's eyes shifted to the blonde next to him in the bed. He grimaced in distaste. His mother had been blonde…oh, God, he had to get out of the bed before that thought went further.

Indy rolled out from under the covers, pulled on his underwear and dressing gown and went downstairs. He walked into the den. His newest obsession seemed to have overruled the Cross of Coronado almost completely.

Was Kamau Kawar real? If he was, why was Indy dreaming about his life? Was Kamau trying to get a point across? Or did he just connect because of how similar the two of them were? Both of them refused to take "no" for an answer. If he wasn't, why the hell was Indy consistently dreaming about him?

That was what it came down to: why was Indiana Jones watching of the life of Kamau Kawar when he slept?

Indy sat at his desk and opened the text book. He put on his glasses and started scanning it. He'd found something on Dictator Fiskal. That was promising. Indy had told Marcus about it after the second dream so Marcus had, brilliantly, gotten contact with someone who had the dictator's personal diary, something which was sitting in a museum in Tripoli, Libya, and was having it shipped to them as a priority.

That meant Indy would be translating the whole thing.

El Jawf, Libya

A man leaned forward over the report. 'Fiskal's personal journal was requested and shipped to America?' He looked at the woman standing next to him. 'To whom?'

The woman frowned and folded her arms across her chest. 'It was requested by a Dr. Marcus Brody for a Dr. Indiana Jones. A couple of archaeologists. But Fiskal is nearly forgotten. I don't see why they'd be interested in him.'

The girl leaning on the other side of the desk raised her eyebrows. 'Nick would likely know. Should we waste his time?'

The man clicked his tongue. 'I think not. If it is serious, Nick will alert us. Fiskal was my problem, after all.'

Bedford, USA

Marcus followed Indy into the den. He'd just handed him the journal, which Indy now had his nose buried in. The book had only just arrived and Marcus had brought it to Indy immediately. Personally, Marcus felt that Kamau Kawar had, in fact, existed. He had probably merely been swept from time or was regarded as folklore. And there was indeed some kind of a connection between him and Indy.

Marcus was still curious. 'Did you find out who Behaze was?'

Indy didn't look up but he did answer. 'Shaman, medicine man, warlock. Whatever you want to call him. He taught Kamau magic.'

'And you've seen Kamau start using that magic against Dictator Fiskal?' Marcus asked.

'Mm hm.' Indy nodded once. 'I started to think he wasn't real but then...' He shook his head. 'The dictator's real. What if this guy is too?'

Indy's sceptism was incredible. The man, clever as he was, refused to acknowledge that some things were inexplicable, that not everything had a rational explanation. It was a lot like Abner Ravenwood, really. And it was so sad to see that the one thing that Indy should have gotten from the Ravenwoods, love and possibly a wife, he never did.

Indy waited until Marcus left before he sat back and breathed out. He only played up his sceptism. Really, he believed this stuff as much as Marcus did. The biggest thing Abner ever taught him was to scoff at the paranormal in professional company. And that was only taught because he knew Indy had seen it. It became a habit.

Pity the one thing Indy had wanted in the world had technically belonged to Abner and he wasn't willing to let it go. Too young, his ass. For God's sake, Indy had been seventeen when he got into the affair with Mata Hari.

Indy shook his head to clear that thought and focused on translating the diary.

El Jawf, Libya, 252 AD

Kamau sat at the table with his hands folded under his nose. 'I'm not sure. She's only twelve, Chinaza. You were three years older when I married you.'

Chinaza nodded head in partial agreement. 'As aware of this as I am, the boys have started knocking. She's physically mature for her age. When she ripens fully...' She let that one hang.

Kamau buried his head in his arms and groaned dramatically. The curtain to the sleeping quarters was pushed aside and a twelve year old black girl walked out. She saw them and smiled.

'What's wrong with baba?' she asked.

'He doesn't like his children growing up.' Chinaza smiled. 'Be nice, Adeola.'

Adeola Kawar laughed in delight.

Bedford, USA, 1926

Indy was so used to it by now that he just rolled out of bed when he woke up. Indy moved downstairs and sat down, getting right back to the translation. Fiskal had been on a roll until the bit that Indy was about to translate. Something had definitely happened.

Over the next few hours, Indy translated and found that an attack had struck dead a garrison of Fiskal's men in a single sweep. Although powerful, Fiskal's personal shaman had said it was the work of an amateur under instruction. Strangely, Kamau had cast a spell to wipe out a garrison of Fiskal's men under the tuition of Behaze.

Coincidence?

Indy really doubted it.

El Jawf, Libya, 254 AD

Kamau stood before the two men. One of them was richly dressed – Dictator Fiskal – and the other was in a heavy cloak. That was the shaman. To the side, Chinaza and the five children were held at blade-point. None of them showed any fear.

A glow surrounded Kamau's hands. Fiskal watched in interest.

'Behaze is dead, Witch Guerrilla,' the shaman said. 'You used his assistance all that time.'

Kamau didn't break his gaze. 'For nine years?'

Fiskal raised his voice. 'What is your name, Witch Guerrilla?'

Bedford, USA, 1927

His name is Kamau Kawar. And I fear him. His power is unrivalled. When I took his wife and children I thought he would not dare fight back, fearing for them. But he not only took up the art of witchcraft, he taught it to his family. My shaman fought him and he would have won, had not the Kawar family joined their power with their father.

The eldest was the first to start chanting. Her mother then. Followed by her four siblings. Then they turned on me. Now, my body is failing. I cannot get those faces out of my head.

Kamau Kawar. Those eyes…so determined. Nothing would have moved him and nothing would have stopped him. That emotion…the one they call love. It was so intense within him. So intense he was able to use it to destroy my dynasty.

Chinaza Kawar. She was the driving force behind her husband. She was the one who started him fighting and kept him going.

The daughters, Adeola and Shani. The eldest child and the youngest. They do not fit my mould. They do not understand their place. Tonight I saw that their father encourages them to power. Adeola…I see untapped power within her, her witchery cast aside.

Nafari, Zuberi and Babajide. The three sons. They held firm and were strong, in body and power. They would have made excellent soldiers, had they not been allied to their father.

At one point, I though Kamau and Chinaza would die. They were swallowed by my shaman's power, but they stood after. Their wounds had vanished. I fear what happened. In

It ended there. Obviously, this was a place where Fiskal had died, or passed out at least. Either way, it told Indy precisely what he wanted to know. That man had been Kamau Kawar.

Kamau Kawar had been a real man.

Indy closed his eyes and dropped his head. God, he was so tired. He'd been working on this passage for hours.

El Jawf, Libya, 793 AD

Adeola Kawar looked at the medallion in her hand. It was bronze with a ruby in the centre. She looked up. Kamau and Chinaza sat there. Kamau was leaning forward, looking at it.

'The Headpiece to the Staff of Ra?' he asked. 'Would you explain that?'

'It's a western belief system,' Adeola said. 'They call Allah "God". From what I was able to discover, it's an old story. Their "God" chose the Hebrews as his people. The story tells how he saved them from slavery in Egypt using a man called Moses. God called Moses onto a mountain and gave him ten commandments engraved on stone tablets for the Hebrews to live by.'

'Like Allah's commandments?' Chinaza asked.

'Evidentially.' Adeola nodded once. 'But he took so long the Hebrews decided to make a God and worship that. When Moses eventually came down and saw what they were doing, he was so outraged that he smashed the commandments. Those worshipping the false God were punished and Moses put the pieces of the stone in a crate called the Ark of the Covenant.'

Kamau waved his hand. 'And…where it is now?'

'Well, it was kept in the Temple of Solomon in Jerusalem for centuries when suddenly it's gone.' Adeola lifted her shoulders in a shrug. 'No one knows how or when but there was a rumour that a Pharaoh took the Ark from Jerusalem to the city of Tanis. Soon after, Tanis was gone. Nothing left of it. Wiped clean by the wrath of God, they said.'

Chinaza looked between her husband and daughter. 'Not something we want just anyone to acquire then.'

'Hm.' Kamau nodded in agreement. 'What about the medallion?'

'The Ark is possibly still at Tanis.' Adeola looked back at the trinket in her hands. 'A map room exists. If you were to put this on the Staff of Ra and take it to the room, at a certain time of day, the light will shine in, strike the ruby and give you the exact location of the chamber that holds the Ark.' Adeola looked back at her parents. 'A room that I believe is called the Well of Souls.'

'I see.' Kamau rubbed his hand over his beard a few times. 'So we have the key to one of the deadliest treasures in the world. We should keep it safe. Adeola, you are best suited.' He frowned. 'And, one day, I'll find out why.'

Bedford, USA, 1927

Marcus paced excitedly. He'd just read Indy's translation and heard about the dream. 'So they're not ageing? Are they immortal?'

'Looks like it.' Indy nodded. 'That magic blast must've done it to Kamau and Chinaza. I don't know what caused it in Adeola though.'

'You said most of this…' Marcus gestured to the journal. '…happened in the mid third century and they acquired the headpiece in the late? And they looked only a few years older?'

Indy shrugged. 'I don't know how, but I always know the year I'm looking at.'

Drammen, Norway, 1104

A man with blond hair and thick sideburns that nearly reached his chin was packing a sack. His uniform was that of a Crusader. A beautiful petite woman with bright red hair marched in. Her stomach was swelled in a way that showed she was pregnant.

The woman yelled at him in Old Norse. 'Sigurd, this is insanity! What are you hoping to achieve in the Crusades? Glory? Power? Do you really think you will find that on a battlefield?'

The man turned and smiled at her. 'Calm down, Ingfrid. The stress you have here will only upset our son.' He leaned over and kissed her cheek.

Ingfrid retained her glare.

Bedford, USA, 1927

Indiana Jones opened his eyes. 'Interesting.'

AN: If you've read my story "The Royal Psalms", you'll recognise these OCs. This is me exploring or explaining them in a different way, depending on your point of view.