If it wasn't for the fact she had to live for her son, and the unborn child inside her, Avatre might have sank into a deep depression over the loss of Atem. Or the "Nameless Pharaoh" as he was now being called.
There was only one thing keeping her going...namely the fact that Isis mentioned a prophecy implying that someone would be born in the centuries to come that would be able to solve the Millennium Puzzle, thus reawakening shadow magic into the world and consequently freeing the Pharaoh's soul.
From what little Isis could find out, the pharaoh would be reincarnated into the far off future, and his 'lighter' half would be the one to solve the puzzle. It all sounded like an odd case of possession to her, but Avatre took hope that her husband wasn't technically dead yet.
The problem was that Avatre had no idea how she was supposed to see him again.
When it came time for her second child to be born, it was far more painful than the first time. Mostly because Atem would never be able to hold his newborn son, who shared their red hair and Avatre's green eyes. The physical pain she could live with...the agony of knowing her son would never meet his father was far worse.
Avatre would spend the next seventy years raising her sons, insuring they grew up to be good men and that the legacy of her husband lived on. She had several grandchildren, and her eldest became part of the tomb keepers because he vaguely remembered his father. Her second son would become the first true leader of the group her loyal men had created...he would call them "Medjai", and set rules that they would follow long after his passing.
The first and foremost to do everything in their power to avert evil like the demon that his father had given his life to seal up, even at the cost of losing his life and being trapped in the Items for an undetermined amount of time.
Avatre felt that she had lived her life well. Her extended family gathered around her, weeping for the end of their beloved matriarch.
As she took her last breath, flames erupted around her.
Avatre found herself in a strange place that felt sacred, in a body she had long since forgotten. She looked down at her fifteen year old body in confusion, wondering why she looked like this instead of her actual age.
"Hail and well met, Queen of Egypt."
Avatre looked up to find...the Winged Dragon of Ra, Slifer the Sky Dragon and Obelisk the Tormentor nearby. Her confusion only doubled, as these 'creatures' were fragments of the true gods that Atem had been able to summon...but only at great cost to himself.
"Hail and well met, oh Gods of Egypt,"she replied politely and respectfully. "What may I ask is the reason for this appearance?"
"We offer you a choice. You may pass on and wait for the Nameless One in the afterlife...or..." began Ra.
"Or?"
"Or you may pass the years among the living, as an immortal. However this will require a sacrifice in return," said Osiris bluntly. "You will age like a mortal, but upon your death will return to this form and begin the cycle anew."
To be honest, the deal was highly appealing. However there was one thing that remained on her mind.
The fact that she still had unfinished business in her original time.
She could care less about the immortality. She wanted to see him again. Besides, she still had a score to settle with Riddle.
"I would rather wait an eternity to see him again, than to pass on quietly," she said firmly.
"And the sacrifice?"said Obelisk in a rumble.
Avatre thought long and hard about what she would have to sacrifice. It would have to be something significant enough to satisfy the gods for such a gift. Then she looked at the ring she always wore on her right finger and knew.
"I will be no other man's child until my beloved king is either given a second chance to live, or given his final rest. I will accept no other man in my bed," said Avatre.
She felt herself burning. A familiar burn at that.
In the world of the living, her family watched as she burst into flames. The fire was hot, but not to the point it would burn everyone else.
When it died down, the sight before them threw everyone off.
Where an old woman had been was now a young lady on the cusp of maturing into a woman. They recognized her instantly, if only from the paintings done decades earlier.
"...Mother?" said Bennu, in shock.
The woman smiled at them, before turning into the familiar phoenix they all knew and cherished.
And thus the legend of the Undying Queen was born.
Many, many centuries later...
Ardeth Bey was a rather adventurous soul. He knew the twelve chiefs expecting great things of him, though he never understood why. He would be taking the great oath soon, but first he wanted to see if the legends regarding the tomb were true.
Out of all the resting places of royalty, the clans held this one with the greatest reverence and killed any outsider attempting to breech it on sight. Only the chiefs were permitted to know who was inside, and even then only the very first room was accessible to them during special occasions.
Ardeth was determined to make it past that point. He wanted to know what was inside, and didn't think too hard about the consequences.
The traps were impressive, but not impossible for him. The deeper he went, the more the feeling in the air changed. But it only made him more determined to reach the inner sanctum.
Finally, after what felt like days (but was in reality seven hours) he found it.
He found it odd that the inner sanctum wasn't barred like most tombs. In fact it had a rather sturdy metal door that had engravings of a great bird amid flames. There was expensive enamel paint that made the bird come to life, but the thing that struck him the most were the emeralds in the eyes. With the light of the torch he held, they seemed to blaze like living embers.
Ardeth tentatively pushed the door open.
The inner room was elaborately decorated. Whoever was inside here was incredibly important...and if he was reading the hieroglyphs right, a woman.
It was only then that Ardeth remembered the oldest legend of his tribe.
He looked at the covered figure on the dais, wearing a very elaborate and royal crown. Their clothing was old, almost falling apart from age, but the body itself was in perfect condition. Too perfect...they appeared to be merely sleeping.
Ardeth suddenly realized that maybe he shouldn't have broken into this particular tomb. There were safer options...like Hamunaptra.
And then she woke up.
Eyes more breathtaking than the emeralds in the door he had just entered looked at him with a benevolent gaze. Hair as red as flames fell down her back, slightly messy from her long sleep. It was only because of how well made the dress was that it didn't fall apart from the calm movement.
"Hello, grandson," she said calmly.
It took Ardeth several moments to register the fact she spoke English, rather than Arabic.
Ardeth reverently bowed to her, not daring to drop the torch.
"Greetings, Honored Mother," said Ardeth respectfully.
She moved, and he dare not get up from his position. He felt a warm hand on his cheek.
"You have great promise, if you managed to make it this far alone and unaided," she said amused. "Though if I know my dear children, they will likely be rather cross with you for coming here."
Ardeth said nothing.
"Come young one. Your courage and daring should be rewarded appropriately, after all."
The look on the elder's faces was absolutely hilarious.
"Honored Mother!" they said, bowing immediately upon seeing her.
"Arise, my beloved children," she said calmly. Then again, this happened every time she woke up from a long sleep.
Ardeth barely held in the wince when he saw his father's expression upon spotting him behind her.
The woman was lead into one of the tents, and Ardeth was taken aside by his father. He didn't try to dodge the slap he got to the back of the head.
"You foolish boy! You should be grateful that the honored mother took pity on you," he hissed.
When he saw her again, the queen was wearing a vastly different outfit. She could almost be mistaken as one of the elite Medjai warriors at a glance.
He bowed.
"Rise, young warrior."
Ardeth did so, and looked her in the eye proudly. The fact that he had not been punished beyond a mild beating from his father for breaking into the royal sleeping chambers spoke volumes.
She sat regally on a rather unassuming chair. With her there, it looked more like a throne.
He took note of his father nearby, but kept silent.
"Your father informs me that you have yet to take on the rite of manhood among the tribe. And yet you managed to reach my sleeping chamber without aid. An impressive feat for a youngling," said Avatre calmly.
"I meant no disrespect, honored ancestor," said Ardeth.
Avatre chuckled.
"The fact you made it that far in the first place only means you have a great deal of potential. Enough to one day lead the tribe...but only if you learn how to temper that courage and skill properly," said Avatre.
Ardeth stayed silent.
His father stood to the right of the queen.
"Ardeth Bey, the Honored Ancestor has deemed you worthy of her training. Will you accept the honor of becoming one of her elite warriors, to defend the world against the great evils that exist and to prevent the high priest Imhotep from once again being resurrected?" said his father.
Ardeth's heart skipped a beat, but his answer came without hesitation.
"I accept your offer, honored ancestor, and will seek to prove myself worth of the honor you have given me," he said without a second thought.
To be chosen by the Honored Ancestor for her personal training! It was such a rare chance that only came to the very elite of the elite of the tribe! She was a harsh taskmaster, but those that survived to the end were destined for great things.
Avatre's smile was warm.
"Well said, young one. We begin training in the morning."
Ardeth would almost curse being the first of her chosen, but it would not be until he took his place as leader of the main Medjai tribe that watched over the great city of the dead that he discovered the reason he managed to make it into the inner sanctum at all.
He honestly had no idea that he came from the line of the honored ancestor and the Nameless Pharaoh.
He was rather curious as to where the honored ancestor disappeared to once the training of her elite had been completed to her satisfaction.
Avatre found it rather amusing that no one recognized the hidden founder of Hogwarts teaching Advanced Runes.
Spending the past five thousand years had been interesting, though at times it was too painful to contemplate. Particularly whenever her female lovers died from old age and she was forced to remain behind.
The Medjai had a special memorial for those she chose to remain at her side as a confidant and occasional lover. It had once brought them to blows with the local community. However among the tribes it was considered a great honor to be chosen as her closest confidant. And she always chose those who already inclined that way to begin with...or were simply too 'different' for any male to be interested in them.
Usually the strongest and most lonely of the female warriors would chose this route, and since they were being useful by serving her the chiefs never attempted to change them.
"Professor Reed, how are you today?" asked the transfiguration teacher Dumbledore.
He looked vastly different from the one she knew. Then again, Grindlewald wasn't an issue yet.
"I am well, professor Dumbledore," she said politely.
Inwardly she was laughing her ass off, wondering how her future headmaster would react to the fact he was conversing with the woman who had trained the four founders of the very school they were in, and had helped to raise the foundations of the place she would always consider her second home. (Egypt would always be her first home, in her mind.)
Though she had to admit, even she never thought her luck would cause her to turn a minor lordling like Godric Gryffindor into a great battle mage, or to rescue Salazar Slytherin from his abusive and highly religious family. Never mind teaching the future bookworm Rowena how to read and Helga the love of caring for plants.
Spotting the Grey Lady, she had to hide a laugh as the ghost gave her a respectful bow. None of the teachers had ever been able to figure out why even Peeves was downright respectful whenever she passed by.
She sometimes wondered how the teachers or students would react to the fact she had her own tower solely for her own private chambers. She always had to laugh whenever the students brought up the infamous "lost tower", said to be the home of Hogwarts greatest secrets and that anyone who managed to enter it would be granted the greatest magics and riches that magical England had ever known.
It was said to be the last repository of Merlin's personal spells and artifacts.
Avatre always had a great laugh whenever someone tried to break in. They were lucky she usually set it to Marauder's standards in regards to the warding, as opposed to the Black standard which was considerably more lethal. Even Dumbledore himself had attempted to break in during his youth.
She had taken great pleasure in turning his hair a fluorescent pink for months as payback.