Unbent, Unbowed, Unbroken

April 5th, 1923: Cairo

George Edward Stanhope Molyneux Herbert, 5th Earl of Carnarvon, lay dying as the red hot heat of Egypt filled his bedroom. The two doctors, William Fletcher-Barrett and Frank Cole Madden, stood watching helplessly as all their combined knowledge failed to even alleviate the most minor symptom of Lord Carnarvon. William sweated heavily as he stared in disbelief at the shuddering body in front of him.

"How is this possible?" He murmured to himself, horror plain in his voice. "No mortal man could bare such wounds and live."

In front of him, Lord Carnarvon let out a piercing moan. Only his head showed from the piles of sheets covering his body, but even that was a sight horrifying to behold. His facial colour changed from minute to minute, a thousand different colours, some as pale as the fairest woman in England, while some as black as the native in deepest Africa. Beneath the sheet, strange movements shifted. Limbs seem to move where no limbs should have been, dagger-like shapes appeared and even a face, screaming silently in agony, made its imprint upon the sheets.

Frank Madden shook his head in denial, a prayer on the tip of his tongue. "This is worse than I thought; no mere mosquito bite could produce such…such devilry."

William turned away from the sight, blanching as he saw a sudden twitch of the lips on Lord Carnarvon's sleeping face.

"Where is that damned attendant of his?" He hissed angrily. "What the devil does he think he is about, disappearing to an Opium den at a time like this!"

"Did you not see his face when we were brought to this chamber, my friend? I was not sure at the time, but now I understand. He had the same expression that you and I possess right now. Absolute terror."

William frowned at Frank. "What the hell happened out there?" He murmured again. "What the hell did they find?"

"Hell."

A voice interrupted the two of them, Frank and William spun towards the door where a young man drooped against the doorframe, his eyes bleary with the signs of substance abuse. Marcus Johnston watched them all, his eyes twitching from person to person.

"We found hell."

"Explain yourself!" William demanded, his voice full of anger. "Tell us what happened out there, and by God's grace, perhaps we can save Lord Carnarvon."

Marcus shook his head. "No. There is no saving his Lordship right now. It would be a blessing if we ended his life."

"Blasphemy!" William practically exploded. "We are doctors, sir! We save lives, we do not take them. Remember that before you speak again."

"What happened, Marcus?" Frank asked calmly, ignoring his colleague's angry words.

Marcus remained silent for a brief moment, his throat bobbing frantically as though mustering the courage to speak.

"It was six weeks ago when we first opened that damned tomb. His lordship had funded the expedition to the Valley of the Kings, led by our famous friend Howard Carter. When we first entered the place, there was a almighty stench, one that gripped the stomach and caused headaches amongst us all. Even before we opened the tomb, a lot of the natives accompanying us had begun to disappear in ones and twos. That was to be expected of course, Howard assured us. Can't trust any of those dogs to do a hard day's work for any amount of pay! At least, that was what we assumed.

The remaining servants with us argued strongly that that was not the case. Some of those who had disappeared had left behind brothers, sons and fathers still with us. If they were going to disappear, then you would have thought they'd leave with their family. But in our haste and ignorance, we ignored them and continued on anyway. Once we entered the Valley of the Kings, the disappearances stopped, and we began to dig. When we found the Tomb, it was the happiest I ever saw his Lordship. He loved to explore, you see. We waited till the smell had dispersed before we entered the tomb. We told ourselves it was the smell of thousands of years, of history untouched! If only we had let rationality enter our minds…

We had the servants enter first with torches to light the way. His Lordship, Mr. Carter and myself followed in their wake. Around us were filled the most wondrous things. Pictures, writings, it was an archaeologist's dream! Further on, we found treasures of all sorts! Gold, silver, incense, pictures legible as the day they were written on. With this discovery all our names would be remembered for eternity, his Lordship boasted. Well, I suppose that's true enough…" Marcus chuckled darkly.

"The tomb seemed to go on for miles and miles, each new item illuminated by the torchlight a wonder upon our eyes. So much so that none of us noticed as the torches ahead of us grew dimer and dimer. Perhaps we had been in that tomb for an hour before Mr Carter finally called a halt. B that time, only three of the twelve servants who had gone in with us had disappeared. His Lordship pitched a fit when he realised! We all supposed that they hid one by one as we went past and made their way back, taking their pick of the finest treasures. Even as he berated the remaining three, only I saw in Mr. Carter's eyes a look of sudden fear.

We all made our way back then. His lordship led the way with one of the torches, while I and Mr Carter walked behind the remaining three natives to keep an eye on them. As we walked back, the three of them began to talk amongst themselves, gradually growing louder and louder. It was at that point that my hand drifted towards my revolver, fearing an attack. Before I could pull it out though, I heard a…a noise.

It came from behind us. I turned around with one of the torches, my revolver in one hand and a torch in the other as I held it up high to see what was behind me. By God's oath, I had never felt fear before that moment. I assumed it to be one of the missing servants, his arms filled with the invaluable treasures of the tomb but…but there was nothing there.

At least, nothing visible."

Frank and William glanced at each other. Around them, the air seemed to grow colder and goosebumps appeared on their arms.

"We continued to walk. I constantly turned to make sure nothing followed us, but nothing did. We were perhaps a minute away from the entrance when suddenly I realised something. There were no longer three of our servants in the middle, but four.

I opened my mouth, ready to shout, when it suddenly lasted out. In an instant, I and Mr. Carter were thrown backwards, my weapon tumbled out of my hand and the torch extinguished. The darkness surrounded all of us, the light disappeared and that was when I experienced fear; true fear.

I heard a brutal voice growl unintelligent words as screams filled my ears. I would have sworn that my death was upon me when I heard a series of loud blasts replace those screams. Light suddenly filled my eyes again, and through the pain of sudden light I saw his Lordship stand stubbornly, a gun in his own hand as he fired at the only standing figure between us and him.

And yet…it laughed. The shots did nothing to it, I swear upon the Holy Bible. It simply stared at Lord Carnarvon. And then it simply disappeared."

"Disappeared?" William asked quietly, his mouth wide open.

"Upon my life, Doctor. It disappeared without a trace. Except for…well."

Marcus merely pointed silently at the shivering and sweating Lord. The two doctors turned to see the object of his attention. On the skeletally thin man's cheek was a redness that remained a constant, despite the rapidly changing colour. Immediately, William was kneeling by the man, studiously ignoring all but the red dot.

"A lesion," he murmured. "Could it be a mosquito bite?"

Marcus shook his head. "There was no bite on his lordship before we entered that tomb, and there was when we left that damned tomb."

"Then what is it?" Frank asked as he knelt by his colleague.

"A curse." A unfamiliar voice rang out from the corner of the room, causing all three men to spin at once. Before them was stood a native man, his skin intensely brown, but his eyes as blue as the most beautiful white woman. Those eyes were now fixed upon Lord Carnarvon, ignoring the three men in front of him.

"Who are you boy! How dare you enter this chamber without our leave!" William yelled in anger, moving towards the stranger. "Out, get out!"

"Be silent, mortal." The native's eyes glanced momentarily at William, instantly freezing him in place before turning back. "You know not what you are dealing with."

He walked towards the bed, ignoring all of them. He glanced momentarily at the sheets covering his body, and gestured with a finger. In an instant, the sheets flew upwards and the true horror of what lay beneath was exposed.

Lord Carnavon's body was a mass of bruises, pus and moving things that should not have been there. Insects, spiders and flies clung to his legs. A snake slithered out of his belly, and a three eyed lizard hissed threateningly at the exposed light. With a slight grimace, the man allowed the sheet to fall back down, covering the awfulness.

"Too late for this one," the man murmured to himself. "But perhaps not too late for the rest of the world."

"Who are you sir!" Frank shouted, his eyes wide with fear as he glanced between his frozen friend and the man. "I demand you tell me your name!"

"My name?" The man remained silent for a few seconds before he shook his head. "My name is irrelevant. Too much has been forgotten in the centuries, and perhaps that isn't such a bad thing after all. Yet, with ignorance comes stupidity, and inevitably it falls to me to fix it."

Marcus stood forward, his eyes pleading. "Please, help Lord Carnarvon. He is a good man, and does not deserve this."

"No man believes they deserve death, yet death is perhaps the only thing most equal in this world. I cannot save him, nor would I. He could not have known it, but what he may have unleashed in his desire to discover that which should remain hidden will doom this earth, if I do not hurry. His life is over, and I have no wish to save him."

"In God's name I beg-"

"Your God does not exist." In a flash, the man's blue eyes regarded Marcus with apathy. "I am perhaps the most benevolent deity you will ever know, although you will not remember this."

Behind the man, the body of Lord Carnarvon stopped breathing, and the moving creatures beneath ceased.

"Goodbye, gentlemen. You will not remember this."

Modern Day Cairo

"I feel like an idiot."

"Yes Sirius."

"I mean seriously, Muggles wear this kind of crap on holiday?"

"Yes Sirius."

"Couldn't have we stayed at the hotel? There were some beautiful women back there, and I feel that as your Godfather I would be remiss in my duties if I didn't-"

"No Sirius."

Sirius pouted as they walked through the bustling streets of Cairo. When they had arrived in Cairo barely a few days ago, Harry had immediately taken action to try and conceal their actions. Before they had left Grimmauld Place, Harry had sent Sirius out in disguise to a Muggle shop to buy a specific set of items. Now Sirius stood behind Harry looking miserable. His hair was for once bound into a ponytail, while he wore a T-shirt with the words 'I LOVE LONDON', and a set of jeans to complete the looks. Harry on the other hand had dyed his hair completely blonde, and wore a matching set of clothes as Sirius. While it might not fool anyone who knew Harry or Sirius well, it would do enough for now to disguise themselves from any casual onlookers, or even worse the Egyptian Aurors.

Before they had left Grimmauld Place, Sirius had given a brief history of the Wizard nation of Egypt. Before the Romans had taken over Egypt, the Egyptian wizards had lived amongst their Muggles as Pharaohs and nobles, and had ruled from Libya to the borders of modern Turkey. When the Romans had invaded they were stripped of their power and placed into servitude. It hadn't been until the rise of Merlin during the early 500s that the Egyptians had found their independence. While the likes of Italy, Spain, France and Britain were forged into a mighty Empire ruled by Merlin, Egypt's wizards had won their independence and ruled the Byzantine Empire, the direct successor of the old Roman Empire. Yet even that victory was shortlived with the rise of Islam and the various conquests. The power of Egypt's wizards was permanently cast down, and confined to roughly the modern borders of Egypt. The disruption of Islam had been a direct cause of the rise of the new Egyptian Pharaohs who ruled Egypt brutally from 800AD to the modern period. Egypt was well known for its fierce isolation and brutality amongst the Wizarding world. Any foreign witch or wizard who entered Egypt's magical borders without permission would at the very least face permanent detainment.

Armed with that knowledge, Sirius had through a series of unlikely events that he refused to tell Harry about created a Portkey to the modern Muggle nation of Libya and snuck through the border using Harry's invisible cloak and Sirius' Animagus form. After that, they had been forced to shed any disguises. Sirius had warned Harry that any illegal magic used outside of the confines of the Egyptian Wizarding quarters would be met with the full strength of the Egyptian Aurors who wouldn't hesitate to shoot first and Obliterate later. And so it was that Harry had quickly found the most Muggle of clothing, trusting in their tourist outfits to disguise them from observation. So far, it had worked.

"I still don't understand why we're going, Harry."

"I told you, Sirius. We're looking for bookshops, specifically antique ones."

Sirius glanced at Harry in irritation. "I understand that Harry, but what I meant was, why are we going to a Muggle bookshop."

Harry stopped to take a drink of water from a flagon, allowing the tepid water to wash through his dry mouth.

"The reason we're going to a Muggle bookshop, Sirius, is because we can't go into Wizarding districts without detection. Right now, I'm 99% sure that Dumbledore has his people looking for me everywhere. Voldemort has his own contacts out here as well, no doubt. Right now, the way we're dressed should disguise us against most casual onlookers, but I don't really want to risk being discovered. We're safer in Muggle territory than we are in Wizarding territory."

"The odds of finding anything related to your book in a Muggle shop is extremely unlikely, Harry." Sirius frowned and put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Harry, I've said from the very beginning I'm with you all the way, but you're chasing a feather in the middle of a storm while riding a Silver Arrow."

Harry turned away in sudden frustration, his fist clenched. "Yes, Sirius, I know that!"

"Then why-"

"Because I don't know what else to do, Sirius!" Harry hissed at him in frustration. "I'm not a plan maker, I'm not Hermione. I know that the odds of finding anything in this city are astronomical. But what more can I do?"

"For one thing, you may want to keep it down, young master."

Harry and Sirius whirled as one towards the voice. Emerging from an alleyway was an old man. His back was slightly hunched, and his hair was more salt than it was pepper, but his blue eyes were smiling along with his mouth as he regarded the two of them. His face was battered by the passing of time, but there was still a certain handsomeness to him that gave a glimpse of his youth.

"Who are you?" Harry asked cautiously, a hand slipping around his back to where his wand was concealed in a pocket.

The man simply smiled again, looking pointedly at Harry's arm. "I would not do that, young master. A single glimpse of unauthorised magic and you'll have dozens of Aurors here within a minute. And I suspect neither of us would want that, would we now, Mr Potter?"

Harry's hand gripped his wand hard. Behind him, Sirius already had his out, concealing it from any people passing by with his and Harry's bodies. "Who are you?" Harry demanded, fear rising in his belly. Was the man with Dumbledore, or with Voldemort.

"A friend, or at least, a potential friend. My name is Syis."

"I have a lot of friends, I don't need more."

"Oh I have little doubt of that, Mr. Potter, but at this moment in time, I rather suspect that there aren't too many around who can help you as I can."

"I don't need your-"

"You are looking for a book. Would it interest you to know that I could locate it within a few days with a few words?"

Harry paused, glancing towards Sirius and back again at the man. "Thanks, but we don't need your-"

"You are looking for the book, 'Of Magica and the Gods'. Now that's quite an old book to be looking for, a very old book indeed, and extremely rare to find in the average library today. In fact only four copies remain. I know that the British wizard Dumbledore had a copy. I also know that one remains in the Library of Alexandria. I even know that you have a copy, missing the information you so sorely need. You are looking for the tomb of which that mysterious writer spoke of, the single greatest mystery that has been beyond any explanation that our kind has ever had. What is Magic?"

Harry stared at Syis in shock; his mouth was extremely dry again. "How did you know-"

"Occlumency," Sirius answered for Harry, glaring at Syis. "He read your mind." Syis smiled again, "Just so." "I'll kill you for that you son of a-" "If I had meant you or your companion harm, Mr. Potter, I would have simply cast a spell and disappeared, allowing the Aurors to find and confine you instead of myself. However I have instead chosen to reveal myself to you at great risk to myself. Do me a courtesy and hear me out. I assure you, you will benefit greatly from my aid." Harry glanced once more at Sirius before turning back to the man. "Who are you?" The man smiled and bowed, his blue eyes twinkling. "I am Syis, leader of the Resistance."