The tattered pages made my hands feel dry and irritated. I look at the words, hoping they would reveal something more exciting than the fifty previous books. And the smell these things gave off? Sometimes I wish I don't work at a museum and be one of those rich lawyers that are growing greater in popularity these days.
Then I wouldn't be caught up in all this mess!
Annoyed, I close the book with a sharp snap, escaping a thin cloud of dust that eventually collected on the desk in front of me. I reluctantly dropped the book I was reading on top of the useless pile of books, letting about a sigh in hope to relieve my stress. It didn't work. Seconds later, I glance over at the not useless pile to see that it was still vacant of even one single book. The last thing I want to do right now is pick up another one. But then I remember what Lock- Nah hadn't hesitated to tell me about throwing me into a dark cave and leaving me there to rot if I didn't find a book on the egyptian new year by tomorrow. This thought made my hands instantly reach for the next available shelf. It was one of the oldest books we had to offer here at the museum, for I could still see the worn stamp from when we first got the building. It was a faded green color, with a picture I couldn't quite make sense of. I open it, revealing the familiar smell of dust and worn papers, showing me the years this book must've gone through. But something surprises me. Even the ink is beginning to wear over time.
From what I can make out, the book it titled Ancient Legends of the Old Kingdom. Nothing I haven't seen thousands of times before today. I turn the pages slowly, quickly using my exhausted eyes to skim the context. I don't find anything significant about this one. I was about to toss it aside where the other books lay when i stumbled on upon a word on the third page. A certain evil, it read, can be found deep within the tombs of the ancient land, an evil beyond all the others. The Scorpion King, once known as Mathyus, has a power unlike any other, one that has destroyed millions in its previous use. Using a rare and priceless artifact, the bracelet of Anubis, one could find the golden pyramid hidden deep in the Oasis of Ahm- Shere, and kill the great creature, immediately obtaining his fierce army for his/her desire.
I close the book, my insides preforming an uncomfortable flip. This is what Meela and Lock- Nah are after! This whole time, their ultimate goal was to overtake the Scorpion King and gain control of his army! And, of course, the only person strong and able enough for that task was Imhotep. All thats needed to be done is finding Imhotep's grave and have him in charge of ruling the earth.
Smiling to myself, I gingerly take the worn, green book and put it in its rightful place; alone in the "not useless" pile.
One might underestimate the secrets and legends of Egypt if not for the ancient tribe of the Medjai. In a place where barren sand and blistering heat dictates the land, a civilization thrives. One made up of fearless leaders, commanders, rabbi, all connected by one goal. To keep the monsters of Egypt safe. Locked away from the modern world. These were the Medjai.
Tribes spotted among the sand dunes. But one tribe, central to all the others, is where a certain message boy got the word of evil spreading through the northern land.
The sun had just peaked above the highest sand dune that enveloped the tribe. Ardeth Bay, being the commander of the tribe, was the first one to open his tent to let in the welcoming sunlight into his little home. The day was beautiful, as were most mornings here in the depths of the Sahara desert. The air that hinted the linger of the nightly chill was now chasing through his veins, making his strength soar through the innermost part of his body. Dressed in his usual garb, Ardeth strode out of his tent; careful not to wake the others. Usually on days like this, he would fetch the water from the well before reassembling the troops for training. But today was the sabbath day; the day for resting and pondering. Ardeth liked these days. It gave him the chance to be in tune with the gods, to know them, understand them, and try to be more like them. He was appointed to the calling of high commander about four years ago, and he still found every week a challenge to his moral strength.
Training began with the first presence of light, and ended just before the women prepared the afternoon supper. It was hard work physically, of course, but Ardeth loved it. His true calling, his father had told him.
With feet lightly treading the untouched sand like the first falling of snow, Ardeth found his way to the tiny well that sat on the border of the tribe, made from collected stones from beneath the Nile. He pulled the wood splitting bucket up from inside the well with quick anticipation. Using the ladle put carefully upon its resting place beside the hole, he scooped a mouthful of water and slowly rose it to his lips, hungry for the cool clear water to banish the cracked mouth and dry throat.
"Ardeth Bay," called a female voice from one of the tents, "you have one day to yourself and you choose not to sleep in?"
Startled, Ardeth almost dropped the ladle back into the bucket. He turned around to see one of the younger women, Elisa, standing in front of her tent with hands on her hips in a scolding stance.
"I should say the same to you, Elisa." he nearly smiled, wiping his mouth.
She rolled her eyes and walked over towards him. "Honestly, if there wasn't women here in the village to keep you men in tact-"
"If there weren't men to feed and protect the women, now that would be an issue." He teased.
"Ardeth Bay!" she said a bit too loudly, trying to hide the grin on her face. She leaned forward and tried grabbing the ladle in his hands. But Ardeth was quicker. He pulled his hand away in the nick of time. Unfortunately, Elisa leaned too far forward, sending the bucket, and herself, down onto the sand on top of the commander. All the screams and sloshes resulted in both Elisa and Ardeth, soaking wet, lying sprawled atop of the sand. Ardeth stood up slowly, putting forth a hand towards the distraught girl. She took it reluctantly, her eyes furrowed in mock anger. Her frown evolved into a smile, however; once she saw the joyous look on the Medjai's face. "Like I said," as she locked eyes with Ardeth. "Men would be nothing without us women. At least we treat our men with respect." she teased.
He just raised an eyebrow. "I have to say, your reflex skills are one to be proud of. Perhaps the Medjai could be in need of your talent."
The two were talking and smiling like schoolchildren, unaware that another tent had been opened during their well mishap. A man in thick black robes made his way towards the pair, surprised to see his high commander first of all, wet, secondly, making such noise on the holy day of rest.
"Ardeth, hopefully you have a good explanation for being covered in water." he called over to him, not able to hide the smile on her face. Ardeth looked up at his leader, jumping a bit in his robes.
"Oh, sir! I was just.. Helping Elisa here with... With-"
"Clearly." He brushed the topic away, deciding to save it for another day. "But now's not the time for this nonsense. You and I have far more important business to cover." His voice was clear that he didn't want to push the subject any harder. Ardeth gave a tight nod to Elise, trying to suppress his smile, and walked briskly towards the tent his commander had entered just moments before.
Ardeth could tell something was wrong from the minute he came through the thin barrier of his makeshift home. The candles were lit, but their flame was but stiff and somber glow to the wandering shadows. He was offered the tiny sheet covering the darkened coals that were usually hot embers. He took it graciously. The commander sat down across from him, so both sets of hard eyes were facing each other directly. He was the first to speak. "I received a letter from our spy early last night." his voice was surprisingly hesitant, considering his status in the tribe. But Ardeth continued to sit up with his back still; absorbing everything like it was spoken from God himself. "He speaks of evil. He says that there is one, great in wickedness, who is organizing an army; one that could very well bring the cursed Creature back from where your American friend last conquered it," the thought of that horrid creature returning made Ardeth's skin crawl.
The commander continued. "Our spy was ordered by the northern tribe to get deeper into the situation by joining the cult, and he accepted it. But that was three weeks ago. He was supposed to return to our tribe four days ago." His face fell. So did Ardeth's. After a long period of respective silence, Ardeth finally spoke. "Sir, do you believe what was said? Can one truly bring The Creature back from his grave?"
The commander's face hardened, and looked at him without expression. "This isn't just The Creature. This; this is something else. My friend, is the Scorpion King."
