Duat Diaries

Disclaimer: Digimon does not belong to me. This fic is set in Lord Archive's Diaries Universe and is written with permission.

Chapter one: First hour

With slow staggering steps the small mouse made his way across the sand. Worry and fear gnawed at his heart, but he could no longer find the strength to run. He had been running for a long time, but he was nowhere near where he wanted to be and still too close to where he was running from. It was stupid to just run out into the desert, he knew that now, but at the time there really was no other choice for him.

Thoughts, memories, feelings, all were swarming through his head. The longer he was out under the sun the harder it became to think coherently. His steps were beginning to falter, but he knew he had to keep going. Even through all the chaos in his mind his fear kept him going. Fear for what they were going to do to him if he was found. Whatever happened, he had to get to the Lady.

The Lady, thinking of her also made him think of where he grew up. It was a strange place for someone like him, but it had been his home. A temple along the great river populated mostly by cats. If only he was there now, he thought, if only he hadn't left. But he had left on the request of his Lady to work on some sort of construction project and see what it was all about.

No one ever figured him to be a spy and truthfully him least of all, not even in his wildest nightmares did he ever do something so potentially dangerous. Now, walking through the desert alone, he truly regretted ever having said yes to the assignment. He still vividly remembered when he had first set foot on the construction site.

"And what do we have here? Some kind of vermin perhaps, out to prey on our storages perhaps?"

A burly digimon asked, no, more like demanded. If he remembered his instructions correctly this was the foreman, his new boss. The large Cyclomon lowered his head straight down to the ground and squinted his eye as if he couldn't see the small pinkish blot otherwise. The dragon exhaled from somewhere underneath his facial mask, a gust so strong it knocked the small mouse off his feet. Seeing this Cyclomon laughed, a booming sound that was nearly too much to bear for the smaller digimon.

"I-I'm the new recruit," Chuumon squeaked, "I w-wish to work here."

"Do you now?" Cyclomon said after he had finally stopped laughing, "And what would you do? Gnaw at trees to get us wood? Transport blocks or perhaps make them?"

He laughed again, gesturing at the stones used in the construction of the pyramid. They were many times the size of Chuumon and weighed more than a thousand of the mouse digimon put together. They both knew Chuumon could do nothing with those, except getting splattered if one should fall on him.

"I'm small," Chuumon said, gathering his courage. He was about to capitalize on the trait that had made him the perfect candidate for this mission, "I can go places others can't and fix what is wrong there."

"So, you want to work with the other runts," Cyclomon said, sounding slightly condescending. The larger digimon obviously looked down on those that did not do the 'real work', though they were just as necessary as the larger builders.

"Yes, sir," Chuumon said meekly. It was better to grovel now so that he would not be noticed later. The dragon was eyeing him sceptically and for a moment Chuumon thought that he would be denied.

"Fine," Cyclomon shrugged," report to that pansy over there."

Despite his earlier reservations his new accommodations weren't all that bad and neither was his job. It was odd that this whole project existed, though. From what Chuumon could see they were actually building a second pyramid around another. He knew whose pyramid it was, everyone in the region did.

It was the main temple for the order of priests that served Pharaohmon, the ruler of this part of the digital world. It wasn't a necessary construction, for the order wasn't large enough to occupy even the smaller pyramid. He knew that better than anyone on the construction force, having used much of his time to scout around the place.

All of his questions on the matter were either met with complete ignorance or some very longwinded story about the honour of the priests and their service to Pharaohmon, the ruler of the area. By the time that was finished you'd already forgotten you had a question for them anyway and after hearing the speech at least five times Chuumon had quite enough and simply stopped asking. This was probably what they were going for in the first place he reckoned.

Afraid that his questionings were drawing too much undesirable attention to him, he kept a low profile for a week to see if anyone was on to him. He needn't have worried; many of the workers had been asking the same questions, so he didn't stand out at all.

During his stay, which was turning out to last far longer than he had originally thought, Chuumon got increasingly homesick and increasingly worried that his incursions into the pyramid were discovered. And all the while he found nothing of interest. He would probably already have tried to leave out of sheer boredom and futility if it hadn't been for the few friends he had made in his shift, especially with a young Armadimon.

The two often worked together and, aside from the time Chuumon spend on his other job, were often seen together off duty as well. Because of the lack of progress Chuumon soon stopped his espionage and simply fell into a steady pattern that repeated itself every single day.

Till one day that all changed with the arrival of the High Priest himself and with him some very dire news. Pharaohmon had disappeared; some even whispered that he was killed. For security reasons Anubimon had returned to his pyramid for the first time since Chuumon had started working there. As much as he hated doing it, he knew his quiet routine was now over.

That night, far after the stroke of midnight, the little Chuumon snuck out of his dorm. He had this nasty feeling in the pit of stomach that something was going to go wrong. Getting through the outer construction area was still easy. Without any difficulty he reached the new pyramid and entered through one of the small maintenance vents. Progress had been fast in building the place; nearly half of the new enclosing pyramid was already completed.

The structure was odd and confusing, but after a while Chuumon had figured out what they were building. He, as one of the few that saw every part of the construction site, knew that they weren't really building new accommodations for the priests. It seemed more like they were building some kind of defence perimeter to shield the inner sanctuary from any attack. A lot of what was build was useless unless it was used as a trap.

If he hadn't suspected that his lady was already aware of what was really being build he would have left long ago. But it was the reason behind the construction that he was investigating and to that question he had no answer. That was why he was there now and not lying in his bed waiting for the blistering sun to come up.

The inner pyramid was different from the new one. There were still places that were rigged with some sort of trap, mostly the main entrance and few hallways and chambers after that, but the majority of the structure wasn't. At least Chuumon couldn't see it if there was.

The closer he came to what he knew to be Anubimon's most inner sanctuary, the darker and quieter the place became. Even at this time of night, the corridors were usually buzzing with life. Well, in a manner of speaking, since Bakemon weren't really alive. The ghosts were part of the guard, as were other undead digimon. It fit, the entire priestly order was devoted to death and the high priest Anubimon most of all.

All too soon the large doors leading to Anubimon's inner sanctuary came into view. They were open, the large slabs of stone pressed against the walls on either side. If they were closed they would have shown an image of a jackal, standing on two feet and carrying with him a scale. He would stand in a field of fire, only the flames were spectral hands reaching out to the scale hoping to change the balance in their favour.

The inner chamber was large and circular, going down towards the centre in large steps. A pool of clear water lay in a basin at the centre of the circle and at the other side of the room stood a large throne, the seat of the High Priest.

Chuumon sighed in relief, the usual Bakemon guards were nowhere in sight, giving him the opportunity to approach the entrance of the room. Carefully he peered inside, hoping that he wouldn't be seen standing in the door opening.

The High Priest stood at the foot of the basin, talking to an image in the water. Anubimon's very presence was nothing short of regal; his tall form possessing an elegance Chuumon couldn't hope to match. Being so small grated on him sometimes, but until he evolved there was nothing he could do about it.

"What have you to report my servant, "Anubimon said, his voice sounding cold, arrogant and powerful. For a minute Chuumon's heart nearly stopped beating out of fear that the god beast was talking to him. His anxiety didn't subdue when another voice, this one coming from the pool of water, answered Anubimon.

"We have arrived at the designated location," the voice said. There was a hollow quality to it, whether it was an effect of speaking through the pool or if the voice always sounded like that Chuumon didn't know. It ceased to matter too when the voice continued.

"And we're fairly certain we found the entrance to the temple. It won't be long till the first of the artefacts has been recovered."

"Excellent, and you're also certain that no one knows what you are doing?" Anubimon questioned, the tone of his voice making perfectly clear how he felt should the answer be no.

"Yes sir, no one knows we're here. We of the priests know how to move undetected, and besides, people are too worried to leave their homes. If something could happen to someone of Pharaohmon's level, who's to say it won't happen to them."

"So, our people are scared are they," Anubimon scoffed, "how typical of them. Of course they know who they have to turn to now for protection?"

"Yes, sir," the voice answered dutifully, "they know that you are the only one powerful enough to save them all from darkness."

"Quite right," Anubimon said, sounding vaguely amused.

"Now all we need is a darkness to make things complete and we're all set. Nobody will ever know," the voice laughed, caught up in the moment. In a flash all amusement was gone from Anubimon's voice and stature.

"As long as you keep your mouth shut they won't."

"Y-yes sir, of course sir."

"Now, now, don't be so alarmed," Anubimon said, the threatening tone removed from his voice, "you know better than saying things you're not supposed to in public. There's nothing for you to worry about."

Chuumon gulped, trying to put everything together in his small head. What he heard here was beyond anything he had expected to hear.

His mind went back to what he heard earlier during the day. Mostly there had been confusion, but soon there was a story going around that some foreign power had targeted this region and as a first act had taken out their ruler. Now Anubimon, the most powerful digimon in the region, and the orders of priests and guards were all that stood in this power's way. They were calling him their saviour who would rescue them from darkness.

Some dissident voices also spoke of a conspiracy to get Anubimon into power, but those words were spoken hesitantly and far in between.

At first he hadn't want to believe it, but hearing Anubimon speak made him realize that a conspiracy wasn't all that farfetched.

With a shock he realized he had gotten to caught up in his own thinking that he had missed part of the conversation. As it stood it looked like they were wrapping things up. Time to go, Chuumon thought, while something was still distracting the priest. He had to get out of the pyramid, but more than that he had to get out of the entire construction site. He had to report what he heard, about Pharaohmon, about those artefacts and about the suspicious behaviour of Anubimon.

"Hey, what's this?" A ghastly voice in the hallway behind Chuumon said. Caught like a deer in a headlight the mouse didn't move for several seconds, then he just dropped all caution and bolted. He could envision Anubimon coming up behind him, but it didn't happen. The Bakemon coming down the hall also weren't fast enough to catch him. With his heart nearly exploding in his chest he found himself on the outside of the pyramid, but he knew he wasn't in the clear yet. Not till he was as far away from the place as possible.

Chuumon coughed up sand, falling to his knees on the hot desert floor. His body ached all over and he could barely stay conscious. The trip down memory lane no longer helped to fuel his muscles, there was no way he was going to make another step. He had to rest before going on even with the heat beating him down. For hours, all through what remained of the night and far into the morning, he had been running. Closing his eyes Chuumon tried to envision himself being in a cooler place, maybe in the shade of oasis trees.

Surprised he found that it was working, but then his eyes snapped open again. The ground beneath him was darker than it should be, but there was nothing around that could create a shadow like this. With horror his eyes shifted to the side, seeing the edge of the dark spot move away from him. Something's above me, he thought. It was the last thought he had before a large form descended on top of him.

The air was hot and sultry, not so different from a sky worlds apart, but the boy could not be bothered with it. After all it was almost always like this. Still it was clear to Hesire that there was something different to the air in that part of Cairo, a place he usually avoided. It was the crowd, packed together under the blistering sun that made the difference. Sweat, that's what it was, the odour of all the sweat produced by all these people. There was no wind, the air was still and so it just hung there, close to the ground.

All around him were shops, shopkeepers and tourists, a great many tourists. That was not surprising; the Khan el-Khalili is a famous tourist attraction after all. The ancient bazaar hadn't changed much at all in six centuries. Almost anything could be found here, which was exactly the reason he had come.

But after a few hours he was still empty-handed and all he had seen were tourist traps. It was perhaps too much to hope for, finding books or other things about the past that he didn't already possess. Some things had come close at first glance, but they weren't authentic.

"Time to go," he said to himself. The crowd and smell were beginning to bug him. To his left was a side street; he almost didn't see it. If his sense of directions hadn't left him yet, taking that street, or more like alley, would save him a lot of time. Dodging some overweight tourists he entered the shadowed alley, glad to be away from the surplus of people on the streets.

On the southern outskirts of Cairo someone else was thinking the very same thing. Sitting on a rock some hundred meters from the city limits was a young girl with long black hair. She felt more at home in the quiet of nature than in the bustling human city. A slight gust of wind lifted the sand around her, forcing her to shield her eyes till it settled down again. Idly she twirled some of the sand through her fingers.

She had only come to the city recently, her parents seeking a better state of living. And while they certainly had more than when they were still living in a small village to the south, she had felt happier there. She sighed, knowing she had to get back home soon. Sometimes she just wanted to take of into the desert and see where it took her, but she knew better than anyone that it wasn't safe to just do that unprepared. Standing up Nephthys turned back to the city, she had promised her mom she'd help out with the housekeeping

"No, don't do that!" Eboni nearly yelled at the seven year old, running over to stop him from throwing over an expensive looking vase. Not for the first time she regretted accepting to look after her niece and nephew for the day, but aside from her there was no one available. So far though they had been nothing but trouble.

"Okay Ebi," he said meekly, but immediately took off while she was inspecting the thing for damages. Luckily there was nothing wrong with the vase. She half suspected they were only doing this to annoy her, but at their young age could still easily break something even in jest. And it was exactly that possibility that kept her playing right into their hands. It was infuriating.

"So can I play with this?" The boy was waving the remote for the TV around now. Eboni started for him again, wondering where the other little troublemaker was, when there was a scream from the other room. She completely blanched, aware only now that there were only two people in the room and that it had been the case for far too long.

"You stay here and stay out of trouble," she glared at her overactive cousin, transfixing him on the spot.

The boy nodded quickly as if able to see the thoughts about tying him up running through her head. He just smiled nervously at her and watched as his older cousin quickly moved to find his sister; after a moment he followed as well. Half the fun of having Eboni as a babysitter was riling her up, trying to see how far they could go with her. It seemed they were reaching the limit of her patience kind of early that day; she had never glared like that before. Would whatever his sister had planned in the other room really make her lose it? Still, something about that scream nagged at him; maybe she had screwed up somewhere?

Before he could enter the other room to check things out his sister was shushed out of it by an irate looking girl. Standing opposite of each other he waited for her to reveal what she had done while Eboni had already retreated back into the room, the door slammed shut.

"Uh oh," he muttered when he got a good look at her face, "You didn't really break anything did you?"

"It wasn't me," she protested at once, "the computer just started to flash and do stuff on its own."

"They aren't supposed to do that."

"I know that," she said dryly. Together they stood at the door, hearing Eboni's rant while trying to somehow fix the computer. The two knew they were in deep trouble now.

"Your ride will be available in ten minutes," Ahmose said, no longer having to think on his words. He handed over a ticket and waited for the next person in line to step up to his counter. It was actually just an old wooden table with a cloth over it, but that didn't matter as long as it fulfilled its purpose. For a moment he had time to look around himself, the street was bustling with people. Some were coming to ride one of the Hantoors, a horse-driven carriage, while others just to look. Across the street he saw a Hantoor driver bargaining with some family of tourists, animatedly pointing in his direction at times. He knew what the man, a competitor of the small business he worked for, was trying to accomplish.

Ahmose had seen the man's carriage, sloppy work, as well as the horse that drew it, a poor old beast. It was true that they charged a lot, more than most of the other lone drivers, but their carriages were properly kept and the horses properly fed and taken care of.

"And you do this all day," a boy leaning against the wall behind said. There was little room behind the table, which stood at less than a meter away from the wall.

"It's a living, Sethos," Ahmose replied matter-of-factly, earning a snort from his younger friend.

"You're only eleven, you should be playing and not working," Sethos scoffed.

Ahmose shrugged and turned his attention to the man trying to purchase a ticket while speaking in broken Arabic. It was more than he usually got from the tourists, having to listen to English, French and what-not combined with hand signs.

"Well, see you around," Sethos said, moving from behind the table and disappearing into the crowd. Being in the middle of a transaction he didn't get a chance to say anything. It wasn't until some time later that he felt a light tap on his shoulder.

"Ahmose, you're done for today," his boss said.

"But I can still work, it hasn't been that long yet," Ahmose said.

"No, it's enough," the older man said resolutely, "Your friend was right you know, you should enjoy your youth. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yes sir," Ahmose replied, closing his moneybox and handing it over to his boss. He wondered where Sethos went and whether or not he could catch up to him.

"Eternal Nirvana," the calling was accompanied by a thunderous noise as the stone door collapsed inward. Floating over the rubble, not bothered by the cloud of dust that rose up from the fallen debris, was an assortment of ghosts, Bakemon. They formed up into a half-circle, with the hole in the wall as its center. Through that hole strode its creator, the cloaked leader of the ghosts, Wisemon. He surveyed the room, hoping it would be the last after all the trap-laden rooms behind them. He was quickly running out of Bakemon.

With a wordless gesture he send his ghosts out over the crevice and stone bridge ahead of him. With an audible click another trap mechanism was set off. Large scythes suddenly dropped out of the darkness above them, swinging over the bridge in wide arcs. Before anyone could react they had already cut through several of the ghosts. The others cowered back, unwilling to share that fate.

"Eternal Nirvana," Wisemon chorused again, blowing the offensive weapons away, "what are you waiting for?"

The remaining ghosts hesitated for a moment before complying. There wasn't much of a choice for them; either they suffered the possibility of dying in a trap or the certainty of getting executed by Wisemon on the spot.

Preceding their leader across the bridge they got to the other end with minimal casualties. The final room was just ahead and with it the artifact he sought. Sending three of the remaining Bakemon in ahead of him Wisemon braced himself for a final trap, but it didn't come. The room he was in now was fairly unremarkable, at least to him. It was bigger by far than the last room and lighter too, though the ceiling still couldn't be seen. The walls were covered with glowing digicode markings and led to a large dais in the center of the room.

"Scout the room," Wisemon ordered, not wanting to risk falling into a final trap now that the goal was so close.

The Bakemon spread out across the room, but nothing happened. With quick steps Wisemon ascended the dais to the large stone tablet atop it. He stared for a while at the image of a magnificent throne depicted on the tablet, his eyes scanning every inch of it.

"At last my Lord," he whispered, "the first of the Books is ours."

A sudden scream, stifled almost instantly, drew his attention away from his gloating in time to see one of his ghosts disperse into data fragments. For a moment all was quiet in the dark room as no one dared make a move.

A rush of air behind another Bakemon was all the warning the ghost got before his body was cut neatly in half. All others whirled on the spot to see what happened, but nothing was there except for dispersing data.

Something is in here, Wisemon thought, his eyes darting left and right. Before another of the ghosts or he himself could be attacked he grabbed the plaque sitting in a hollow in the stone tablet, the item they had come so far for.

The moment he took it from its holding place the tablet itself lit up brightly, shooting a beam of light straight up and through the roof. It lasted for only a few seconds, but that was just enough time to see a large form hanging over a Bakemon. Not caring much to having to fight this unknown foe in its natural territory Wisemon bolted for the door and left the room while behind him his remaining forces were slaughtered.

Up in the air the light had solidified itself into an orb, shining down on the digital world like a star. This, like its sudden creation, also lasted for only a few moments before another change split the orb into five beams of light that crashed down on several parts of the region's most prominent settlement. In the capital of a country a world away five children disappeared without a trace.

Author's Notes:

The title for this fic comes from the name of the Egyptian underworld, which is called Duat (or Tuat). The Duat itself has twelve divisions corresponding to the twelve hours of the night.

It should be noted that I do not live in Egypt, so all I know comes from online research. If I'm portraying something wrong I'd love to hear about it so I can correct it.