Amunet walks in the Valley of the Shadow of Death, born with the All Seeing Eye of Horus. Given the title Jewel of the Nile, she was forced to give up her family name and all of her worldly possessions, becoming a deity to her people. Visions plague her thoughts and dreams, her mind and body in a constant haze of battling sensations. Amid her ventures into the depths of her power, she discovered a life threatening prophecy; however, in her opinion, the benefits far outweigh the repercussions. Against her people's wishes, Amunet leaves the protection of the Medjai and saves the life of an outsider ― intentionally initiating the world's potential downfall.
━━━━━━༻𓂀༺━━━━━━
𝒊. | PREMONITION
━━━━━━༻𓂀༺━━━━━━
❝The future is worth it. All the pain. All the tears. The future is worth the fight.❞
— Martian Manhunter
━━━━━━༻𓂀༺━━━━━━
Heavy sheets of rain fell from a cluster of dark clouds that thundered and swirled ominously overhead. Bright flashes of crackling lightning struck at the Earth one lash right after the other, unrelenting in their attack, joined by gusting winds and a visible fog of thick humidity that sent a deep chill to her bones and set her nerves alight with anxiety. Yet despite the obvious storm, she remained dry and untouched by the violent weather.
How peculiar.
Peering down at herself, her brow furrowed in bewilderment and her lips formed a slight frown. She was dressed in a way that she had never been prepared before. Her skin felt oily and grimy, painted to hold a visible golden tint that reflected glints of bronze flakes; drawn over the gold were intricate black markings that spanned from her collar bone down to the tips of her toes. Nothing covered her chest, the full nakedness her breast were cleverly concealed behind the black paint that gave off the illusion she was wearing a form-fitting netted top. Wrapped snugly around her hips were two separate sets of black and gold beading that seemed to be attached to a black woven loincloth which barely covered her modesty. Her hair had been pressed into a straight edge fashion, golden beads braided in specific strands to help weigh down her normally ruly dark locks.
Lifting her gaze, her eyes swept across the sight below her. She stood on top a crumbling stone balcony that had the perfect view that overlooked the Giza pyramids and the cluster of modernized buildings that surrounded the ancient relics. Another peculiar observation, she noted. She was rarely allowed permission to leave her private village with the Medjai. When she was discovered to bear the gift of the All Seeing Eye as a child, she was carefully hidden away so she wouldn't become a tool for greedy ploys at the hands of mankind. To be in such an open area (unsupervised by the looks of her immediate surroundings) was inexcusable.
Everything was silent... too silent. Granted, it appeared to be the dead of night, and the city-people should be safely sheltered in their homes during such a dangerous storm. However, the unusual stillness of the air specifically around her put her on edge.
The city appeared to be abandoned, desolate even. Other than herself, she could not see any signs of another life form from her line of view. The narrow roads below were empty, scattered pieces of paper and small debris fluttered in sync with the harsh winds. Piles of sand were accumulating in places that should have been filled with bustling civilians on the go.
Where was everybody?
Trying not to let fear take hold, she slowly took in a deep breath to help calm her nerves. She knew better than to be fooled by sight alone. Nothing was seldom as they seemed. The world around spoke, you just had to be able to listen and understand. Planting her bare feet firmly against the rough pavement of the crumbling balcony, she spread her legs shoulder length apart for a sturdy stance, and waited for the elements to speak to her.
Silence. Not a flash of an image, not a single sensation other than her own tingling anxiety. Impossible, she inwardly marveled. There really must have been something wrong. She could never turn off the Eye, it was a part of her very soul. Becoming unhinged, her body trembled with fear of the unknown. It's quiet, she noted again, much to her despair. Too quiet.
She wanted to shout, she wanted to scream, anything to break the empty void! Wrapping her arms around herself for a mild form of comfort, she hunched her back, her shoulders rising and her neck sinking. Her gaze shifted and she spun and she turned — frantically searching. Questions flooded her mind, some overpowering others, distracting her fear and offering her a familiar (and welcomed) sense of mental chaos. Why wasn't she getting wet when it was obviously pouring? Why was she here? Was this a dream? Another vision? A different premonition? For what purpose?
She hadn't experienced… whatever this was… before. It was so intense, so life like. She didn't like it. She wanted to awake and go home.
"Ar-Ardeth?" she stammered aloud, voice meek and uncertain. He hardly left her alone before, a constant presence of protective oppression, her personal shadow, always within distance. He was the only tie to her life before she was titled Jewel of the Nile, Keeper of the All Seeing Eye of Horus. He was her brother, her leader and her champion. The only person who could somehow lift her fog whenever she fell in too deep.
A loud sob echoed throughout the barren streets, carried with the wind. When the cries reached her ears, she was instantly elated. She hastily dashed down the stone steps at the edge of the balcony, eagerly weaving her way through the narrow roads and alleyways to find the source. Finally, no more silence! However, her beaming smile quickly faded when she reached a small clearing. The cobbled pathway she was following split in two, circling around a collapsed stone fountain. Crouched in a fetal position in front of the broken structure was the exact mirror of herself, clutching the sides of her head as she continued to cry out in complete agony.
"Too loud- it's too loud! It hurts! Make it stop, make it stop!" her dream-self beseeched. Her face was contorted in pain, her eyes tightly clamped shut while she was clawing and pounding at her head.
She was at a complete loss. What was she supposed to do? How was she to respond to such a vision? Yes, she had her bad days when she had to isolate herself in her praying room in order to recuperate, but usually that was whenever there was a full moon and the veil between life and death was at its thinnest. Never like this, though, never to such an extreme extent. Apprehensive, she cautiously ambled forward and extended a quivering hand.
With a single touch of her mirror-self, the silence shattered.
Chaos… it was everywhere.
As fast as the snap of the fingers, she went from untouched by the weather to completely saturated by the rain. Her hair whipped violently around her face, neck, and chest, sharply stinging her flesh wherever her strands slapped. The thought-to-be abandoned buildings and roadways were engulfed in flames, black smoke raised up and blended in with the cluster of dark clouds. The electric streams of lightning struck down buildings and homes with swift precision, joined by raining balls of fire which fell from the heavens. Screams of the city-people pierced the air, cried out for the Gods' mercy as they were chased by wisps of black shadows or were terrorized by their own fellow man.
Everything came at her in one blow. Her whole body began to tremble, pulsating with pure energy. Like a spark catching flame to gasoline, her nerves were alive and shot painful prickles straight through all of her limbs. Gods did it hurt!
Too much, it was too much! Stop, it had to...! Please! She… She was going to burst! Her lips parted to release a silent scream.
"Nettie!" a foreign voice called out to her, filled with a desperation and fear that rivaled her own. Nettie… she felt immediate comfort at hearing the name, and unwillingly her nerves were soothed. Was that her? Was she Nettie? But why did she find peace within that voice? It belonged to no one she could recognize, and the only man she felt safe with was Ardeth.
"Nettie, you have to run — run now! Get away from him!"
That voice again. She wanted to respond to that voice, cry for his help. Yes, yes he would help her. He would come to her rescue. He had to, she felt it… He was her savior.
A man's breathy cackle followed the concerned plea for her to run, striking familiarity in her heart. She knew that laugh. Against her better judgement and her people's warning, she had spoken to the owner of that sinister chuckle, was curious to know the sole man who could strike a deep unsettling fear to a highly skilled band of warriors that lasted for thousands of years. A calloused hand firmly clasped her shoulder, tugging so she turned to face its owner. A clean shaven head and face left attention to be drawn to a pair of thick expressive eyebrows and deep swirls or dark onyx that held a certain glint of unbridled arrogance. The man was attractive in a way that set off warning bells in her mind, a sense of danger that could shatter and allure the strongest of wills.
Imhotep.
"You have my thanks," he spoke to her in his native tongue of ancient Egyptian, and she understood him without delay. His full, pale lips were stretched into a proud smile, his pristine straight teeth on full display.
She did this, she played a key hand in resurrecting an evil that caused such horror and destruction, but it had to be done… right?
Throwing her head back, her back arched in an almost inhuman manner, and she expelled a blood-curdling scream of torment and pain. Imhotep's touch sent her nerves into overdrive, filling her head with his thoughts of world domination and human suppression, a "rebirth" to a new era for him and his lover to rule together. Warm hands firmly grasped the sides of her face and a distant voice carried with the wind, valiantly trying to reach the forefront of her cluttered mind. "He not born of black yet bares the mark of the two kings with the all seeing eye shall finally free us from our greatest fear. He not born of black yet bares the mark of the two kings with the all seeing eye shall finally free us from our greatest fear," the prophecy continued to circle her thoughts, repeating in fading, rushed whispers over and over and over.
Unexpectedly, breath left her body and a physical pain erupted at the pit of her belly. She was violently ripped from her mind, cradled against a solid chest and a rapidly beating heart. "Forgive me, forgive me," a deep voice murmured into the top of her cranium, their warm breath blowing against her head in steady pants.
Blinking owlishly, she regained her wits and recognized the tender hold to belong to Ardeth. She let her body relax in his arms, the tension from her premonition melting away from her highly strung nerves. "The time draws near." She effortlessly spoke in an ancient tongue lost to many but a select few.
Ardeth tensed, his firm chest almost becoming as hard as stone. He didn't reply to her comment, choosing to remain silent on the subject. She knew his stance on the prophecy, and as the current leader of the Medjai he had greatly disappointed her when he commanded that they do nothing. He had told her that the repercussions were far too great to risk their lives looking for a savior who could very well fail as much as he could succeed.
What use was her gift from the Gods if they were to be ignored?
Vexed, she pulled away from Ardeth's embrace and was immediately engulfed with a plethora of short visions when a small gust of wind wafted through the open flap of her praying room. Ardeth must have been in a rush to not seal off the room when he came in to answer her cries. She tried to shake her head clear, tightening a white lace shawl around her body in a vain attempt to shield herself from the elements.
"Amunet," Ardeth sighed out her name, exasperated. She unintentionally flinched at the call of her name, her mind drifting back to 'Nettie' that was shouted within her premonition. "The prophecy is flawed, your visions show more harm than good. I will not risk the lives of millions for a small chance of ridding us of that evil."
Amunet chose to take a page out of Ardeth's book and ignored his attempt at making her see the logic in his decision. Her gifts did not rely on logic, so if anyone's judgement was flawed it was Ardeth's. She turned her back to her brother, choosing to return to her post within her praying room. "Leave me," she commanded, bending the knee in front of a carved symbol of the All Seeing Eye.
Amunet heard the shuffling of feet and the ruffling of clothing, she was certain that Ardeth was obeying her orders. As Jewel of the Nile she held some power over the leader of the Medjai, to them she was a deity, a God reborn that they had sworn to guard and protect with their lives.
Ardeth's heavy exhale of air reached Amunet's impassive ears. "I am sure that once the time of the prophecy passes, your visions will lesson and then you will see reason," he remarked before he departed.
Amunet's fingers tightly curled in toward her palms, her nails digging into her flesh. 'See reason', she inwardly scoffed, mocking Ardeth's words. I see all, and that is what pains me. Frowning, Amunet lifted her gaze to the carving of the All Seeing Eye of Horus. The limestone was smooth and crack free, frequently polished by her priestesses to be kept in pristine condition. The Eye itself was lined with gold and encrusted with jewels, valuable to no one but Horus himself. Plush pillows and mats of the smoothest silks and fabrics were neatly arranged underneath the Eye for Amunet's comfort. She spent all of her waking hours posted at this spot, her duty (and thus her sole reason for living) was to serve underneath the God who had graciously granted her his gift of True Sight.
When Amunet looked at the large emerald that was the iris of the Eye, another brief image flashed across her vision. The broad back of an unidentified male. Featherlight bronze hair, short in length, was neatly combed in a fashion Amunet had witnessed on a few men who came to visit her from the 'Outside'. Lightly muscled sun-kissed arms were poised in a aggressive position, their hands effortlessly welding firearms that were directed at an unseen foe. A white garment top with its sleeves rolled up to their elbows was tucked into the waistline of a pair of tan trousers, and wrapped around their shoulders was a leather holster that held various weaponry. Even from behind, Amunet could tell that this man was a skilled warrior.
"...Nettie..."
Amunet gasped at the whisper, her eyes glistening with intense emotion. Her heart fluttered in her chest, and a pleasant sensation sent shivers down her spine that left her feeling warm and heated at the pit of her stomach. This was the first time she had seen a physical form of the savior, and even though she did not see his face she was more than thrilled.
The time draws near, she reminded herself, a grim sense of determination gripping her thoughts. She thought of Ardeth and his command to remain neutral, but she forced his image from her mind. He had made his decision, now it was time for her to make her own.
Amunet's premonitions of the prophecy showed both the good and the bad, revealed dozens of possible outcomes of fulfillment. However, there was a common factor in each of her visions, the name Nettie. The savior called her Nettie, a name which filled her with such… longing.
━━━━━━༻𓂀༺━━━━━━
.disclaimer. I do not own the sheer genius that is the Mummy franchise. Casting Brendan Fraser and Rachel Weisz and ― GAH! ― just about everyone belongs to Universal Pictures and the visionary director Stephen Sommers. This movie was my childhood, remains my favorite franchise, and Rick was my first ever movie crush. As I am sure we all know, Netflix added The Mummy and The Mummy Returns to their stream list. I could not help but cave in and write my own version of the movie after binge watching the movies back to back. Don't get me wrong, Evie and Rick are my ultimate OTP, but the shameful side of me couldn't help but take a little piece of Rick for myself, and thus Amunet came into creation in my obsessed, fanatic brain.
P.S. Yes, I will attempt to tackle the mess that was Tomb of the Dragon Emperor. I, personally, love Chinese culture so I am going to try and put my own spin to the third movie. Be aware, this will not be a copy and paste of the script / movie with an added character thrown into the mix. Amunet's presence in the story will have a ripple effect on the series.
Reviews, comments, and criticism are always welcomed; flames—tolerated.