Okay, sorry for the LONG hiatus. If it makes anybody feel better, I've got a ton of pages written, I'm just shy about posting before I can see the end. And while I know where this story is going, it's not…quite settled yet. So we'll see where we go.
Disclaimers: I do not own Mighty Max, Norman, Virgil, Presley, the mummies, the bad guys, the "Area 51" video games, or anything else that pops up in this story and is already copyrighted by someone else. I do, however, own my plotline and the subsequent events that take place. Also, I apologize to anyone who is deeply and personally offended by the (mis)use of Egyptian mythology and religion. I am taking a couple of characters from their places and using them for my own devious means… Well, anyway, I am borrowing the gods, so if you're a student of Egyptology, please forgive the liberties I'm taking here.
Now, onto a few chapters of adventure, fun, and crazy one-liners!
"Now, let's see what you've got!" shouted Norman as he charged Armon at full speed.
After the battle on the hill, Virgil, Norman, and the Mighty One had tried to explain why they had arrived and how they had come from a different dimension. None of the mummies had any idea what great threat was now on the horizon because nothing out of the ordinary had happened in weeks. However, they invited the Mighty One and his friends back to their lair to wait and see if some danger really would reveal itself. Virgil had located a portal that would take them all back to a point very close to their Sphinx after a quick stop in South America. However, the mummies were unwilling to allow their much-protected prince to risk such a dangerous form of magical travel at first, leading to a long and exhausting argument.
After countless assurances from Max and Virgil, with periodic agreeing noises from Norman, the mummies relented and cautiously agreed to trust this foreign magic. When they passed through the portal, however, everyone was surprised that traveling through the conduits of power actually reenergized the mummies completely. Normally, the golden guardians had to sleep for hours in their sarcophaguses to build back the energy of transforming and battling; instead only a few seconds inside a portal had returned all four mummies to full strength. It was a phenomena Virgil and Rath both immediately declared deserved intense study. A sudden kinship was born between the scholars, which kept them occupied while the others planned a wrestling match. Armon, testing out his newly-refueled energy, had bashed a tree with his golden arm and that got the boys, and Norman, to wondering who would win in a fight.
Now, fighting hand to hand, it was a master of Egyptsu against Norman's own technique. Armon's golden limb flashed against Norman's irregular armor; the Guardian had asked that Armon wrestle completely transformed to make it a fair challenge. Grunts, yells, impossible holds and near-escapes flashed as the two titans battled. The duel was intense. Armon's Egyptsu was spectacular to watch, but Norman's more unorthodox approach, which basically consisted of improvisation when brute force failed, seemed to be evenly matched against it. They were both ingenious fighters, quick and able to change their patterns of attack even in mid-stride.
Max and Presley cheered for both contestants, a fast friendship between them after such a short time, while Rath and Virgil discussed something entirely incomprehensible to the others about the mechanics of magic and metaphysics. Nefertina shouted right along with the boys; she was more taunting Armon than supporting him, although even she had to admit she'd not seen him at his best like this often. Ja-Kal said nothing, but he was quietly gauging the contestants and the boys they each protected.
Armon and Norman battled on, their ringing cries echoing in the arena. It took what seemed like forever before they finally called it a tie. No matter how many times one could pin the other, it never lasted long. The ram, panting heavily, reached out to Norman with a smile in his eyes.
"You are a true warrior, Norman. I am honored to contend with you," he said in his deep voice. Norman grasped the gold hand in his own.
"I, too, am honored to duel with you. You are a master." Norman was always at his most verbose right after a good fight.
"Way to go, big guy!" shouted Max, bounding from the stone steps around the arena and running up to them both, Presley at his side. "And you, too, Armon. That was awesome! But can you show me how to…?" the Mighty One trailed off, trying to imitate Armon's Egyptsu movements and getting his arms twisted in the odd gestures. The large mummy smiled and waved a golden hand at Presley.
"Why don't you show him, my prince? You've been practicing quite a lot."
"Really? I'm ready? All right!" Presley yelled, then ran off with Max to the other side of the training arena to run his new friend through the beginning Egyptsu exercises he knew so well. Norman and Armon watched critically from a comfortable distance, commenting on their technique, the effectiveness of various holds and grabs against different counters, and the overall skills and strengths of each of their boys.
"They're very much alike, aren't they?" remarked Nefertina, meaning Max and Presley, not Norman and Armon.
"Very," Virgil said seriously, grateful the boys were out of earshot. "Even their histories are similar. Both boys, not yet ready for adulthood, coming into their own in the midst of wonderful and terrible circumstances outside their own control. They see every situation with hope for the best, they honor friendship above all, and they are courageous beyond their years."
"Wise, too," Rath added. "It isn't just knowing the world and how to approach it, although I wager they both possess that gift. But their wisdom is in knowing how things must be, how dignity and honor and mercy are greater than power."
"And yet they are still young," Ja-Kal added, looking at the boys intensely. "They make foolish mistakes because their hearts guide them in place of reason. They are too young for the responsibility of the world. They don't even understand it. They just want to be 'normal,' not seeing how unusual they are, and how extraordinary. They take risks because they care far too much, place too much stock in the wisdom of their hearts," he sighed, "and yet it is their hearts that I prize above all."
"They're so young and they should be free to choose, and yet they are bound by a duty they cannot ignore. We ask so much of them," Nefertina sighed as well, knowing all too well what duty could do to one's heart when they conflicted.
"We have stolen their childhood and replaced it with greater dangers than most people will ever face," Ja-Kal said sadly. "If I could take it away, let them live as just boys once more…"
"They would not allow it," Virgil said firmly. The others turned to look at him in surprise. The truth was that the mummies were rather used to feeling sorry for their prince and the weight on his shoulders. Virgil pinned them with his golden eyes, a knowingness in his expression. He spoke quietly, but with an authority they could not ignore.
"Both the Mighty One and your prince are gifted as heroes. In that gift, both their destinies were determined long ago. Both of them are bound to their worlds and the well-being of all peoples under their care. They save the world because they must, and they will do so for as long as they live. Not only because we force them to," he said, looking directly at Ja-Kal, "but because they cannot help it. It is a part of them, just as the pharaoh's soul, just as the gifts of the Mighty One. They were not given a choice in the matter, no. But were we to give it to them now, I believe they would both choose the path of a hero. Not because it is easy or glorious. They both know better. They would choose it because they cannot do otherwise. It is who they are and who they will become in time."
Presley and Max left off the Egyptsu and rejoined the others, Armon and Norman in tow. The three mummies were all staring at Virgil with looks ranging from curious consideration to astounded confusion, but they quickly hid their reactions to his provoking words.
"It's really late. I have to get going. I don't want mom to notice I'm not there. Again," Presley said disappointedly.
"Doesn't your mom know about all this?" Max asked. Presley looked up in surprise.
"Of course not! The mummies can't reveal themselves to the outside world! People would freak out! Besides," he said abashedly, "I don't think she'd really believe it. Who wants to try to tell their mom that they are some kind of chosen one who saves the world from ancient evil every weekend with a bunch of crazy ancient guardians?"
"I think you'd be surprised," Max said smiling ironically.
"The mother of the Mighty One is a fine cook," Norman put in.
"You mean she knows about you?" Nefertina asked, incredulous.
"Of course," Virgil answered calmly. "It made our, ahem, outings with the Mighty One much easier once we explained everything to her. She was a touch taken-aback, I admit, but I was able to convince her of the world's great need for her son, and she soon came to accept his place and his destiny."
"She went through the roof at first," Max added, "but then she was cool with it once she saw how safe I am with Norman. I guess she figures I might learn something from Virgil while we're portal-hopping. It's great, because it means Mom'll get me out of school if Virgil needs me, and I don't even get detention! But she's also been with me on a couple of adventures, and I gotta tell you, it is no fun having your mom fussing over you when you're trying to do your thing." He grimaced good-naturedly.
"Well, be that as it may," Ja-Kal interrupted, "the prince's mother is not so informed as to the nature of her son's place in the world, and we are not yet ready to speak to her on the matter. The wary warrior does not approach a lioness with a cub unless he comes bearing meat. Come, my prince. I will take you home myself."
"What?" Max asked, shaking his head at the falcon-avatar's odd phrase.
"He does it all the time. We don't understand his proverbs, either," Armon shrugged.
"What about you? What will you do?" Presley asked Max, hesitating under the guiding hand of his guardian.
"Ah, Normie and Virgil and I will be fine here. We've had worse! Go home. While you're in school tomorrow, I'll be out at the nearest arcade! I hear the newest 'Area 51' game is awesome. I'll kill some aliens for you!" Max called after him laughingly.
"Lucky," Presley muttered as Ja-Kal led him away.
"Virgil, if you would be so inclined, I have many questions I would appreciate your aid in researching to find some answers. We must establish what new threat led you to us, as well as why your portals reenergized us so efficiently…" Rath began, wandering towards his table of scrolls with the Lemurian fowl at his side. Within minutes, the two of them were deep in ancient texts, making very little sense to anyone else.
--==OOO==--
"So, you're saying you have no idea why you were summoned here?" Rath asked, weariness in his tone.
"I suppose not. I had assumed upon arrival that you would be aware of the threat we have come to avert. The fact that nothing has happened means we must have arrived before the threat has come into play. Which could mean many things…" Virgil said, idly scratching on a scroll before him.
"Could it be that your arrival will actually cause something catastrophic?" Rath asked, juggling possibilities in his head.
"I think it rather unlikely. The combined destinies of the Mighty One and the prince are solely a power for good, not evil. I find it hard to believe that they could bring harm with them."
They both fell silent. It had been hours since dawn when everyone but Max had risen for the work of the day, and the two scholars had spent that time busily contemplating possibilities and destinies and magic. They had established that the portals opened by the Mighty One were serendipitously on the same frequency as the healing of the mummies' sarcophaguses, which explained how traveling through portals could be restorative. They had also established that the Western Gate was essentially a portal to the mummies' universe's version of the Astral Plane, and that it behaved in a very similar way. But settling into the question of exactly why the Mighty One had been summoned to this world had taken hours of study and revealed few answers.
"Unless…" Virgil began, thinking quickly. "There is one possible explanation. It could be that bringing together these two forces does act as a stimulus to whatever events are to take place, but that without that initial set of circumstances, the result would be far more dire still."
"You're saying that while bringing the Mighty One and the prince together may actually be the cause of whatever is going to happen, had they not been the catalyst, something worse would happen which the sole power of the prince would not be enough to overcome." Rath's eyes were wide, and the normally aloof sorcerer considered that possibility with relish.
"Precisely."
"I believe you may have something there. It is conceivable that the momentum of the goodness already in place will mollify whatever would have taken place and turn it instead into something without our sphere of control."
"What?" Nefertina asked, coming around the corner. She was a smart girl, but sometimes following Rath's logic took some doing. Norman, who had been sharpening his sword across the room, looked up.
"They're saying that whatever's coming is coming because the Mighty One is here with Presley, but if he wasn't, then something else would happen and it would be too evil for you to beat without our help."
"Well, yes," Rath said, staring at the usually non-communicative warrior.
"Norman has, over the years, become rather adept at translating my sometimes-ambiguous speech," Virgil said smiling smugly. Norman grunted in response.
"I wonder if I could teach Armon that…" Rath speculated. Nefertina snorted.
At that moment, Armon wandered in with a Beefy Burger in each hand and one in his mouth, munching happily.
"Was…goon….un?" he asked around an enormous mouthful. Seeing confused looks all around him, he reluctantly swallowed and repeated, "What's going on?"
"Hmm, perhaps not," said Rath.
--==OOO==--
Elsewhere, another seemingly dead and decrepit man leaned impatiently on the arm of his throne, overlooking his lair of fire and stone. Scarab drummed his ancient fingers on the arm of the chair, waiting for Heka to return. He had sent his snake off to bring him a book, and also to ensure that Ammut, the incredibly stupid dog-being from beyond the Western Gate, was not eating the ritual foods set aside for his incantations. Again. The book he required was one he little-used, a reference that contained many known but unusual types of magic and sorcery. Scarab needed to know what that light had been in the sky that had simultaneously destroyed his Shabties and given the accursed mummies another victory. Hearing thumping and an echo of Heka yelling at Ammut, the ancient vizier sighed and rose from his place.
"I should send that idiotic mutt back through the Western Gate and be done with it," he growled.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," came a sudden and gratingly dark voice from nowhere. Scarab turned to locate the sound of the voice. To his astonishment, a little-used crystal in the corner was glowing brightly. Scarab lifted it from the pile where it had sat unnoticed for years.
Looking back at him from the solid face of the crystal was a being that Scarab had never seen before, yet instinctively knew was much like himself. The face was death-white, and what skin there was stretched across solid bone; in fact, it looked more like a skull with the ability to form facial expressions than anything else. The teeth were wicked and the dark eyes were cold. Scarab, staring, felt a strange sort of kinship with the being.
"Who are you?" he demanded, not intending to take such intrusion or such unasked-for advice lightly.
"I am Skullmaster."
"Charmed, I'm sure," Scarab muttered. "And what is it you want?"
"You and I have something in common. We both have a hated enemy who happens to be a pathetic little boy."
"You know of the pharaoh?" Scarab asked, his attention now fully on the face in the crystal.
"Yes, I do. And of his little guardians. I have a similar, shall we say, impediment, in the form of another boy and his guardians, a so-called 'Cap-Bearer,' who is currently in your world. He is joining forces with your pharaoh." There was a distinct snarl in Skullmaster's voice when he spoke of the Cap-Bearer, and his teeth gleamed wickedly.
"And you're telling me this because…?" Scarab asked, interested but unwilling to commit himself. Thousands of years in the dark had made him a skeptic of any sort of help when it was freely offered. Especially from a being who was likely from another dimension. Who knew what such a being's real motivations were?
"Because there is a way that you and I can also ally ourselves and destroy them all forever!" Skullmaster roared. The maniacal glee in his voice was unmistakable.
"I'm listening."
"What do you know about the 'Ritual of Babi'…?"