Disclaimer: I don't own Kane Chronicles, Zia, or anything else you might recognize. The only thing I might own in this piece is the OC...


He saw the remains of the broken, red statue of Apo- the red snake. It was the cause of all this trouble. He kicked it into the sand. All his fault. He saw the remains of the village, the clay bricks crushed into sand, the broken pictures torn and dusty. All his fault. He had known it would bring nothing but trouble. He had known his father should never have brought to al-Hamrah Makan. All his fault. He knew there was a reason why he never managed to find any complete statues. Something to do with the slippery magicians and the failing House of Life. All his fault.

It was just his luck he was steeped in magic the moment he was born. Was it his fault he was born on the birthday of the most notorious god? Was it his fault he came into the world on the same day as Set? He scrounged through the remains of the village, looking for anything to help him survive. All his fault. Why had he run away? He could have done something! Made sure she was safe! All his fault. Instead he had run. Run like the coward he was. He had just proved them right. He was good for nothing. He had deserved the pointing and the accusing stares and the mutterings behind his back. All his fault. He found a basket with scattered grains in it. He would keep it. He would survive. Maybe he was stealing. But no one would know. There were no bodies anyway. Vaporized. Turned to dust. Scattered like sand in the wind. All his fault? He wandered through the ruins of the village he called home, not bothering when the shards of simple clay pottery cut his feet. He deserved it. All his fault.

He had sworn to protect her! To prove that he wasn't as bad as everyone thought he was. She was innocent. She probably didn't know what was happening, when the red wind started to blow and her still short black hair blew around her face. Staring in confusion through curious golden eyes as everything she knew disappeared. All his fault. Then he saw it. In the embrace of the scattered grains, there was a single unbroken picture. She was smiling, trying to cover the eyes of her father mischievously. She was only eight in the picture. Just a few days ago she had been happy. She had been so excited to see the disposable camera his father had brought her. It was her birthday. She deserved a gift. She was not cursed like him. She had laughed and took pictures of everything she saw. He could not be included in the pictures, but what did it matter? She was happy. The one person who thought he was human, who did not think he was just an ill omen, was happy! Even if she was only eight years old and was his little sister. He was not worthy of that happiness. He had betrayed her. He had run away from the destruction and crossed the river into the dead land and didn't look back. He didn't want to see everything and every one he loved disappear like a forgotten dream. When he did turn back, there was nothing left of the village. As if it was never even there. The people had probably gone to their death cursing him. All his fault.

He dropped the picture. It fell gracefully to the sand. Now, everyone who came there would know what had been, what he had destroyed. But no one would come. Everyone who knew about his home was dead. The hope and happiness of people he cared about snuffed out like a candle because of one mistake. All his fault. He continued walking through the ash and sand. He would not eat the grain. Too many memories…

He found a spear. With some difficulty he stabbed a couple fish. There would be fish for dinner tonight. He smiled, but the life was gone. And why shouldn't he? He had nothing left. Why shouldn't he smile over the end of a life if it meant he would survive? He caught himself. This was the rambling of a madman. Maybe he was mad. The smile slipped off his face. All his fault.

He finished eating the fish and dropped the remains in the water. The tiger-fish would have something to eat tonight. All his fault. He watched the sun set in the water. The sky was painted pink and orange. Orange was her favorite color. Secretly, he liked it as well. He stared at his reflection. The tanned skin from working in the sand. The messy light brown hair, tousled from the wind. His face, streaked with blood and tears and dirt. The crazed look in his golden eyes. A ripple distorted the image. She had always been fascinated by the ripples. All his fault.

Suddenly he couldn't control his emotions any longer. They poured out of him like a tidal wave. He made a choking sound as the tears flooded out of his eyes. Crying. Howling his pain to the world. He crumpled on the bank of the river and cried his eyes out. Thousands of memories churned in his mind as the world swirled around him, as the world turned dark. She had always been afraid of the dark. His tears created ripples in the water, like a summer rain. She had enjoyed dancing in the rain, among the fresh green shoots. The farmers would yell at her but she wouldn't care. He felt someone watching him from the dead land. He froze. No one was allowed to see him weak. It was his weakness that caused the destruction of his village. All his fault.

He picked up the remains of the statue of Apophis. He no longer had any fear of the name. He dropped it into the water creating massive ripples that disturbed his reflection. It made sense to his tortured mind. The statue had disturbed everything. All his previous sadness had drained away, leaving nothing but anger. Pure unbridled fury at whoever caused this. Even if it had been his fault. He picked his way through the dead village and red sand leaving a trail of blood and tears. A half-blind old man could've followed him. He felt the eyes of countless predators on his back. After all, what desert hunter would turn down a young bloody meal. He no longer cared. Let them come, he thought to himself, with no spark, no life left in his eyes. They were as cold as yellow flint. The spear in his hand snapped in half. Let them come.


Four years later a lonely twelve year old girl with chin length black hair and piercing amber eyes, found a picture of a girl she used to know.


A/N: Could you guys tell who 'she' was? I liked the way this turned out. Ugh, I don't even know why I wrote this. It made sense in my head! I know its kind of angsty but the genre is angst for a reason! Um...do you guys have any ideas for where to go with this, I have a rough outline, but it isn't that great. So...I hope I didn't turn him into one of those irritating Mary sue type thingie. If I did, please review and tell me, so I can cry and weep in a corner over my horrid writing skills.