Disclaimer: Though I would love to say otherwise, I do not own any characters and or plot line from The Mummy and the Mummy Returns. My only wish is to take Ardeth out of the box once in a while and play with him, maybe cuddle him...excessively...

Note: So, I've been on a Mummy kick lately and my creative muse said "Mummy Fanfiction?" To which I replied "Why Not?"

Oh just so you know, the majority of the story will take place a year or so after the events at Ahm Shere with the occasional flashback. So this isn't your run-of-the-mill Mummy fanfic that follows the movie(s) with an added O.C. (Not that those aren't good, believe me, I've read some pretty amazing fics on this site that follow that formula. I suggest you check them out!) Anywho, I hope you guys stick with me here, the prolog isn't much to go on, but I've already got 2 other chapters up and ready to load depending on the feed back I get from this first one. So with out further ado, I give to you my contribution to the Ardeth Bay world of hotness.

Prolog:

Ahm Shere, Valley of the Forgotten – 1933

So this was the end of his journey. To have come so far, to have lived through so much; only to fall at the tip of a Medjai blade.

Lock-Nah could feel the life seep out of him. Blood flowed from where the sword slit a path from his groin to sternum like water welling over the brim of a slowly filled glass. Not deep enough for a quick death. No. Ardeth Bay had wanted him to suffer. Wanted his enemy to know the mistake of threatening those under the protection of the Medjai. Had there been more time, Lock Nah felt confident in the belief that Bay would have stood over his body and watched him fade.

It was, after all, what he would've done had their rolls been reversed. Ardeth Bay was not nearly as virtuous and perfect as he wanted to believe, as he wanted others to believe. There was a side of him that welcomed evil. Embraced it like an old friend. For without the threat of some sort of impending doom, the chieftain would be like a boat without sails; set adrift upon an endless ocean without direction.

Despite the metallic tang of blood coating the inside of his mouth, Lock Nah, once commander turned mercenary, grinned through the pain of coming death. Perhaps in another life he and Bay could have held each other in confidence, so much a like they were despite the chieftains annoying do-good mentality.

Lock-Nah stared forward, realizing his last sight was to be the leafy lush canopy of trees, dappled with the stirrings of daybreak. So completely different than the golden waves of sand he was accustomed to, but no less beautiful. He was going to die here.

He was going to die here.

"At least my Lord Imhotep lives on t-"

"Hate to be the bearinger of bad news, my anemic friend." The well cultured, pronouncedly educated tone clashed with the wild surroundings, "But as I speak and you bleed out, your so named 'Lord Imhotep,' is on his way to the Hall of Two Truths, in about six different pieces if I am counting correctly."

Lock-Nah's gaze hardened and fell onto a cloaked figure standing off to side, his face tucked into the shadows of a hood, only the tilted lips and slightly dented chin discernible in the swaths of rich green fabric.

"Don't look so shocked. Your not-so-powerful high priest made the very human mistake of underestimating ones enemies while overestimating ones allies."

"You lie." The dying mercenary hissed, earning him an amused almost pitying grin in return.

"Ah. A skeptic." The cloaked being moved closer his steps making no sound. He stopped next to Lock-Nah's prone form and lowered himself onto his heels. The squatting position would have made lesser men look ridiculous, but he made it appear almost comfortable.

"Normally I would appreciate such agnosticism, but I'm afraid that time is against us. At this moment, the very ground you insist on watering with your life's fluids is getting a rather stern summons back to the underworld."

"Who are you?" Lock-Nah felt his head fall back onto the pad of grass, the winds beginning to pick up, whistling through the surrounding growth.

"Someone on the market for your particular skill set."

Ignoring the pain it cause, Lock-Nah gave an empty bark of laughter. "The Medjai's blade has sealed my fate. There is only death before me."

"Fate?" The man pulled his hands from his sleeves with a flourish. His head falling back so to direct his question heavenward. "What is it with mortals and your bizarre infatuation with Fate?" Allowing the inquiry to be swallowed by the now gusting, violent winds, the man's face tilted back down to Lock-Nah.

"What is it you would seek, should your fate suddenly….turn?"

A series of flashes leapt to the forefront of Lock-Nah's mind. Images of the O'Connell brat making him appear a fool. The small flare of victory in Ardeth Bay's eyes as his sword struck true.

"Revenge." The warrior in him growled.

"So shall it be yours."

Lock-Nah's face paled as the cloaked figure's eyes began to burn with an unholy light; like twin emeralds, they shined through the shadows of his hood, glowing with liquid power.

"Who are you?" The ex-cult commander whispered.

"Eat this and all your questions will be answered." From the depths of his sleeve, the being produced a single fig, offering it, palm-up in a gesture of provocation. "Eat this and have your Revenge."

A/N: Like it? Hate it? No matter your opinion, Review if you would like to read more!