𝒊𝒗. | STRING OF FATE
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❝An invisible thread connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle, but it will never break.❞
— Ancient Chinese Proverb
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Like the flame from a wick of a candle being blown out, Imhotep disappeared in a wisp of black smoke. Amunet waited anxiously for his return, knowing that he was scouting who had intruded upon his land. Was it Ardeth? Had he noticed her absence sooner than she had expected? He would surely take her back to her village and double her guards, and sneaking away would be more difficult.
Not good. Amunet pursed her lips, nimbly tying the noose weaved through the sac's brim. She secured the twine around her wrist to let the bag filled with gold dangle, hidden, beneath her sleeve.
"Men, a small army of them." Imhotep's excitement was evident in his tone when he reappeared in front of Amunet, his dark eyes shining with joy. "This is our opportunity! Lure them to the book."
Amunet was at a loss for words. Someone had found Hamunaptra. While the occasional outsider stumbling upon the ruins was not an uncommon occurrence, the fact that Amunet had yet to find the savior made the hairs on her body stand on end. If she didn't do as Imhotep asked, he would immediately become suspicious about her true intentions.
This was not foreseen. Amunet frowned, her hands clenched into fists. What was she to do?
"Be on guard, they found your transport and search for your whereabouts," Imhotep cautioned. "While my powers may be weak for the moment, I will protect you as best as I can. Once I am revived they will be disposed of should they cross me."
Amunet warily met Imhotep's gaze. His words fully registered within her cluttered brain, and her anxiety raised to a different level. She would have to face an army of men on her own, without aid. Imhotep may have thought his words were comforting, but they did nothing to calm Amunet's skepticism. She broke eye-contact with the ancient spirit to look back up at the vault's ceiling, extending her gift to search for signs of potential harm.
"...Nettie…" Instantly, Amunet was soothed, the single call of that name doing what Imhotep's verbal promise of protection could not. Could it be…? A slow reaction of realization, combined with hope, bloomed within her chest, lifting her spirits. Instead of her searching for the savior, could he have come to her instead? His destiny is strong. The prophecy must be completed.
Amunet eagerly reached for the torch she rested against the treasure chest. Imhotep must have misinterpreted her enthusiasm to be directed for him and their shared "goal" of his resurrection, he smiled a broad grin that revealed his pristine teeth. The strong sense of guilt returned, briefly dulling Amunet's keenness to meet finally the savior face-to-face. She, again, averted her gaze from Imhotep and set upon returning to Hamunaptra's surface to greet their visitors.
Exiting from the way she entered the ruins, Amunet cautiously approached the area where she could see various men doned in white. They were ignoring the section from where she came, searching in places where limestone had collapsed over the original doorways. Most of the men wore strange weapons across their backs, made of a combination of metal and wood. She knew them to be a modern type of weaponry, created from mankind's most intelligent of minds. Ardeth had made sure to skill himself in such items in case he were to face a foe who would use them against him, and when Amunet grew curious he told her that they were extremely dangerous, and if she were to meet someone who wielded such a weapon she was to run and seek shelter since their harm could reach vast distances.
Amunet took a moment to simply observe the outsiders. Her gaze swept across Hamunaptra's barren wasteland, stopping at where the men have set up camp. There was a good amount of them, definitely high in numbers — were she should be concerned for her safety. However, they did not worry her, her curiosity overpowered any sense of self preservation. Surely, the Eye would direct her to him (the savior), but when she couldn't instantly find his presence, doubt clouded her judgement and prevented her from going any forward.
Was she foolish to hope? Was he not here? Was this simply the beginning? Should Imhotep be resurrected before she found the savior?
"Amunet," Imhotep called out to her. "Do not let fear stand in the way of our goal."
Amunet frowned when she detected an unknown edge in Imhotep's tone. He never spoke to her that voice before. He was threatening her. "I am not afraid," she declared firmly. Irate with Imhotep's response to her slight hesitance, Amunet left the safety of her cover to venture out in the open.
The different essences from the legion of men created a thick fog that surrounded around Amunet, penetrating the thin barrier of protection she feebly created around her fragile mind, suffocating her, each trying to vie for her attention. The physical hold Amunet had on her torch was the only thing to keep her grounded, she tightly grasped the petrified wood, her knuckles turning white.
Amunet's calm stroll to the populated camping area of Hamunaptra drew much attention, and various shouts that announced her arrival broke the still air. Her steps stopped when the weapons Ardeth warned her of were swiftly directed at her, prepared to fire. The men swiftly encased her in a circle formation, blocking her from potentially escaping.
A deep, unsettling growl snarled from next to Amunet. She did not have to guess at who it came from. Imhotep was not happy. In his eyes, these's men's fates were sealed the moment a single barrel of the modernized weapon was pointed at her. A noticeable shift in the atmosphere frightened the men, a reaction from Imhotep's retaliation and promise to protect Amunet. The sand beneath their feet tremored, sinkholes unexpectedly sprouting in various locations — taking a few men into their dark, neverending depths. Their screams pained Amunet, bringing flashes of memories from her premonition of Imhotep's destruction.
"Enough," Amunet commanded in the ancient Egyptian tongue, her tone sharp and clear.
The sinkholes ceased, as well as the tremors.
Needless to say, the weapons hastily returned to their positions, directed at Amunet. The visible shaking of the foreign weapons and low murmurs from the men revealed their trepidation to get any closer to her.
"Johnson, report!" a voice cut through the chatter. A man stormed through the scattered men, marching forth in Amunet's direction with a scowl on his thin, pale face. He was dressed differently from the others, much cleaner and clothed in a different color of a deep tan. The growing light from the moon glinted off a few pieces of jewelry that were either pinned or sown in to the cloth of his overcoat.
The leader, perhaps? Amunet benignly cocked her head. And he's wearing a coat in this heat? A sign of authority?
"Colonel Guizot, be careful, sinkholes took a few of the men."
The cleaner man stopped, his gaze set firmly on Amunet. "So this is who we have been searching for: a woman?" he grumbled, his face scrunched in obvious disappointment. "Kent, inform O'Connell to form bigger parties and broaden the search. Where there's a woman, there's a man to watch over her. Smith, find me Gabor so he can translate. Unless any of you managed to pick up on this country's savage language?"
"N-no, Colonel. She spoke but…"
"But?" The colonel snapped.
"It was in a language I've never heard of, Sir, and- and when she spoke it… the ground- it stopped shaking."
"Mere coincidence, Logan. Don't let these savage's lore fool you."
Savage. Amunet knew the meaning of the word, and she did not like the condescending way this stranger was speaking about her people. Did he not know that she could understand his every spoken word? The Eye translated all language in her cluttered brain so that she could understand the needs and wants of those underneath her guidance, which in the eyes of the Gods was everyone.
Two men branched off from the circle that surrounded Amunet, scurrying in different directions to fulfill their orders. She turned her gaze back to the leader of the men in white, watching as he eyed the sinkholes that dotted the area around her while she remained unscathed. He lifted his stare to her, the slight narrowing of his eyes displayed his disbelief.
"Lend me your power," Imhotep uttered fiendishly into Amunet's ear, hovering over her like a black shadow. "Let us show them that it is you and I who are in control."
Imhotep was able to quickly grasp the powerful uses of his in-human abilities obtained by the Hom-Dai (a terrible curse that prevented him from ever being able to cross over into the blissful afterlife, thus condemning him to immortality — undead), he simply lacked the energy to use them. Amunet hasn't dabbled too far into her gift, her containment of the Eye kept her far too distracted to use anything other than true sight, however, she contained an excess amount of spiritual energy; energy that Imhotep often siphoned and exploited.
"Woah, woah, woah, easy there fellas. Put the rifles down. Can't you see she's obviously unarmed?"
That voice… Amunet instantly perked, her whole body standing erect. A jolt like sensation sent her nerves alight with a tingling alertness, igniting her sense of awareness like a lit match catching flame to gasoline. In a single swipe, all other presences were wiped clear from her mind, replaced with a strong golden aura that was emanating from a single male.
"...Nettie…" The voice matched the call of that name, and now Amunet had a face to match the brief image she had seen of the savior in one of her visions.
The moon's natural glow did conceal some features, but Amunet was able to tell that he held an air of authority that greatly overpowered the Colonel who had called her people savages. He had a strong jaw, and plush pale lips that were chapped and flaking from overexposure underneath the sweltering sun. The featherlight bronze hair she had vaguely witnessed from her vision slightly framed his square face, attractively disheveled from the wind. Broad shoulders and a lean torso were accented by a waist length tan coat, similar to that of the Colonel's except that the savior's was casually unbuttoned, revealing a loose fitting white tunic and two straps of brown leather underneath.
Amunet's chest felt light, a fluttering sensation overtaking her heart beat. "It is you," she breathed out in awe, unintentionally speaking the language she heard the savior use.
"She speaks French?" the Colonel sputtered in disbelief, his expression contorting in an unattractive gawk.
Meanwhile, the savior merely blinked his shock, cocking his head. "Uh… Do I know you?" he inquired.
"No," Amunet replied, "but I know of you."
A charming grin tugged at the edge of the savior's mouth. "I guess my reputation precedes me."
Amunet could not help but smile in return.
"Enough of this nonsense!" The Colonel snapped. "Where are the others? Bring them here!"
Frowning, Amunet turned her gaze to the narrow-faced man, greatly displeased with his constant shrill demands. "Physically — there are no others, but I caution you to be wary. The man who haunts these ruins watches and passes judgement."
"Ridiculous hokum," The Colonel scoffed. "You heard the woman, she's alone. Detain her."
Unlike when the savior cast his order, the men in white were hesitant to follow through with the Colonel's command. They nervously shuffled on their feet, edging away from the sinkholes Imhotep had created which surrounded Amunet in a protective circle.
"Is that really necessary, Colonel? She seems to be cooperative." The savior was the only man who remained unperturbed, but that may be because he did not witness Imhotep's supernatural use of power.
"Led them to the book," Imhotep growled his impatience.
Amunet shuddered, briefly glancing at Imhotep from over her shoulder. His glower made the sharp features of his face appear all the more menacing, and the dark swirl of his eyes were haunting. Unnerved, she looked away, her gaze instantly drawn toward the savior. Amunet felt another smile taking over her mouth when she saw that he was still staring at her.
Could the prophecy be fulfilled this easily, and so soon?
"I know what you seek, but I do warn that it comes with a price," Amunet carefully spoke, choosing her words wisely. With Imhotep hovering near, she had to be sure that she kept her true intentions concealed. While he was her friend and she did have a heavy resolve to help him achieve his happy ending, she had to be prepared to protect the savior as best as she could. Only he could put an end to Imhotep's terror should she be unable to redeem him.
Looks of disbelief were cast Amunet's way. The narrow-faced Colonel openly gawked, while the savior blinked several times in mild surprise.
"Lead us to it," the Colonel (once again) demanded.
"Don't you think we should let the men rest before we start digging, Colonel? We came here nonstop," the savior advised.
"I'm in charge, these are my men, and I say we dig. Do I make myself clear, Corporal O'Connell?" the Colonel unattractively sneered.
A grim expression took over the savior's face, his lips pursed. "Loud and clear, Colonel." He nodded once before he turned on his feet, his hands cupping the area around his mouth. "Round up, men! We've got new orders."
"And will someone grab the woman for Christ's sake!" the Colonel snapped.
The atmosphere became tense, a tingle like sensation prickled in the air, as the men scurried to follow the savior's call. One courageous man braved the last command to retrieve Amunet. He tentatively edged around the sinkholes, slowly creeping toward Amunet's position. The clear fear on the poor man's face made Amunet feel sympathetic for him. She decided to make his job easier and smoothly strolled in his direction. However her decision appeared to only startle him, he scampered to get away from her, stumbling over his feet and falling back onto the sand with flailing limbs and a yelp of fright.
Imhotep chuckled. Amunet rolled her eyes, not amused by his finding entertainment in other people's fear.
Ignoring the fallen man in white, Amunet bypassed his sprawled figure and ambled toward the savior. As she got closer, the men in white parted, giving her a wide berth to pass through. The savior's words came to a stop when he noticed her presence.
"Do you know a safe passage into the ruins?" he asked her.
Amunet grasped the edges of the shawl still wrapped securely around her head, pulling it down so that she could reveal her face for better communication. "I do," she said with a nod.
The savior's expression visible slackened, his piercing light eyes slowly gazing over her face. Meanwhile, Amunet remained impressed with the different colored irises he held, a beautiful mixture of blue with a dark outlining. She had never met anyone with light colored eyes before (or maybe she had but didn't pay attention).
"Woah," he uttered lowly, barely audible.
Amunet raised her brow, briefly bewildered by his reaction.
The savior cleared his throat, shuffling his stance so that he was fully facing Amunet. He nervously wiped his palms against the sides of his tan trousers before extending his right hand out toward her. "Uh, Rick O'Connell," he stammered, his pink tongue briefly peeking out from between his lips to lick at his bottom lip. "Corporal Richard O'Connell of the French Foreign Legion," he corrected himself with a shake of his head after he had glanced off somewhere to his side, "but you can just call me Rick."
He had a name. The savior. Corporal Richard O'Connell, or was it Rick? Amunet was puzzled as to why he had told her two different names. Was it common to have more than the one given to you at birth? Or perhaps he was stating his full title? She then peered down at Rick's extended hand, wondering what the odd gesture meant and how she was supposed to respond to it. In the end, she opted to mimic the action, extending out her right hand out toward him as well.
"I am Amunet, Jewel of the Nile, first of my name, Keeper of the All Seeing Eye of Horus," she introduced herself by her full title, like she thought that the savior had done.
"J-Jewel of the Nile?" The Colonel rudely wedged himself between Rick and Amunet, stepping uncomfortably close to Amunet. "You have it? Is it here, too?"
Confused by the Colonel's question, seeing as how she was the Jewel of the Nile, Amunet simply nodded as her response. The broad grin which overtook the Colonel's thin face deeply concerned Amunet, an unpleasant sensation crawled into the pit of her stomach.
"Right…" The savior (Rick) slowly edge himself back between Amunet and the Colonel, his broad back facing Amunet and his front facing the Colonel. "...Why don't you let me handle the girl, Colonel, and you, uh, lead the way?"
The Colonel didn't look too pleased by the savior's request but he seemed to comply nonetheless. He briefly met Amunet's gaze when he glanced at her from over the savior's protective shoulder before he turned away from them. "Alright, men, grab the equipment and prepare to reap the benefits!"
The men in white loudly cheered, raising whatever items they held in their hands high in the air.
The savior turned back around to face Amunet, a different kind of smile on his lips, it appeared forced almost. She peered up at him, her brow furrowed with concern. "Are you all right?" she softly inquired.
The savior cleared his throat, the trepidation on his features disappearing. "Y-yeah. Hey, uh…Sorry, what was your name again?"
"Amunet, Jewel of the-"
"Amunet, right, now that I think I can remember," the savior chuckled, intervening in her near full introduction. A charming grin swiftly replaced the apprehensive grimace on the savior's expression. "Right, so, you said that you knew who I was and I..."
"O'Connell!" the Colonel barked, interrupting the savior's fumbling.
The savior groaned aloud, his head rolling back. Amunet tried to contain an amused grin from forming on her lips. She found the savior's fumbling words oddly endearing.
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Reviews, comments, and criticism are always welcomed; flames — tolerated.
.warning. do not play Final Fantasy XIV unless you want to become an obsessive player who ignores all else. that free 30-day trial nearly done me in.