Visions and Dreams
Sometimes, dreams can tell you something about yourself, about your past. And other times, they are only dreams.
From the Harvester's Journal
Soralis shifted restlessly in her sleep. The Medjai bodyguards who watched her from the shadows were not alone and they didn't like it much. All around them, the darkness seemed alive with half-glimpsed shapes, odd movements that they couldn't dismiss as normal. Yet when they turned around to face those intruders, they saw nothing. Whatever these things were, they caused no harm, save for completely unnerving normally fearless warriors.
***
Soralis could hear screaming. She could hear the screams of thousands of souls, souls who could never rest, who had been denied peace. Bleak despair filled the place like a toxic cloud. She could feel another presence walking beside her.
A man, or what appeared to be a man with a jackal head was matching her stride for stride. "It disturbs you doesn't it?" the jackal headed man asked.
Soralis nodded. "Yes. Why must you do this?" she asked softly.
"They do it to themselves." The jackal headed man replied cryptically. "Their own actions take them to this place; most were warned about the consequences of those actions. They ignored them and now suffer for their shortsightedness."
"Then why am I here?" she demanded.
The jackal headed man smiled. "Sometimes, even the damned can be redeemed." He looked at her. "You are the tool for that redemption, among other things." He said as he led her down twisting paths that ultimately led nowhere. He stopped short as the paths diverged.
"That path is one you must take alone. I will wait for you here."
Soralis took a step on the path as she did, there was a howl of rage and something huge slammed into her. She heard an answering shout from the jackal-man and the mists surrounding the path enveloped her before the pain could register.
***
Soralis blinked as she opened her eyes. "That was weird," she muttered. It was morning. Whatever it was that possessed the shadows around her had faded away as the sun rose; much to the relief of the Medjai Ardeth had ordered to stand guard outside her door. As she got ready for the day, the guards were rotated.
"Sayadi, we were not alone during the night." The senior guard reported to Ardeth. He didn't look surprised as the guard related what had gone on during his watch.
Ardeth frowned thoughtfully as the Medjai healer carefully changed the bandages on the burns and cuts, some of which were quite severe. "You were lucky they didn't have you any longer than they did." The healer, an old woman, remarked as she gently wrapped a bandage slathered with some sort of ointment around his burned hand.
"The lady is more than she says she is." The old woman; his grandmother said softly.
"What do you know of this?" Ardeth asked curiously. It was rare that his grandmother spoke up about such things.
"Old legends, legends of a group of sorcerers and fighters sworn to maintain a balance between good and evil, law and chaos." The woman shrugged. "I thought they were folk tales."
"Folk tales usually have a grain of truth in them good doctor." Soralis remarked as she walked into Ardeth's room.
"You are a Shadowlord," the woman replied.
Soralis inclined her head. "Yes and no, I have no idea what those shadow- things are. I've never run across them, but then, I've never set foot on Egyptian soil before this."
"What are you two talking about?" Ardeth said irritably.
Soralis sat down. "Ages ago, there was a long and bloody war between heaven and hell. This war almost tore the universe apart. It was god against god, demon against demon. When it was over, thousands of worlds that once were healthy, livable places like the Earth were destroyed. A group of mortals and immortals, both good and evil swore that this would never happen again. They formed a region between heaven and hell and separate from the earth realms, called the Shadow Realm. This place would be a meeting ground between light and dark, law and chaos." She paused, letting this information sink in.
"The lords of heaven and hell set this group up as the titular rulers of this new Realm. They called themselves the Shadowlords and it was decided that neither the lords of light or darkness would have complete domain over them." Soralis got up and looked through the window.
"We are sworn to keep a balance between good and evil. When there is no balance, chaos and evil rule and the universe starts to unravel."
"Then why are you here?" Ardeth asked. "This isn't something that will shatter the universe, though it is serious."
Soralis looked at him. "I am also the Harvester of Souls." She said baldly.
The entire room quieted. "Isisethren," Ardeth whispered. "You are the Isisethren."
This time it was Soralis' turn to look confused. "What?" she asked.
Ardeth smiled lightly. "I believe it is time for us both to tell each other everything we both know otherwise, we may wind up loosing it all." He remarked and began to explain.
***
Audric knelt before the altar. He was dressed only in a loincloth. The room shimmered with the heat of the fire he had lit and the walls of the stone room were lined with candles.
As he prayed, the air grew heavy. He could hear the moans and screams of innocent souls in torment, in pain. "What is your will, my lord?" Audric asked softly.
"Her return has been foretold in stone and in stars. This time, she will not be so easy to take. The blood of the eastern gods runs through her veins and shadows shield her…" the voice rumbled. "Her name means death and sorrow to the enemies of The Powers That Be."
Audric shivered. "What can we do about this?" he asked.
"Take that which is most precious to her; her love, the son she would have raised and her brother. She will be ours in order to safe guard their souls." He laughed. "She is the key to the book of the dead."
Audric's eyes glinted. "And after we retrieve what is ours?"
"Wipe them out and deliver her to me."
The man bowed his head. "Yes lord Akethros," he whispered.
***
Imhotep buried his face in his arms, crying softly. Everything, everything he had believed in lay crumbled in ruins at his feet. He had given everything for the woman he loved: his life, his honor and his soul. In return, she betrayed him, valuing her own life over his.
The room he was in had little in the ways of comfort. Only a hard pallet and a ratty blanket protected him from the room's chill. But then, he was already dead, so it hardly mattered one way or another.
A face glared at him through the barred window of his cell. He raised his head and saw the face of his tormenter. A twisted, evil mirror image of him gazed through the window bars as the thing opened the cell door and strode in.
The thing bent down, still smiling. "Too bad. Love is very fleeting isn't it brother?" the thing quipped.
"Why don't you just kill me now and get it over with?" Imhotep demanded angrily.
The creature laughed. "You're already dead. Remember? The offer still stands. Join my master and you will have all the power and revenge you've ever dreamed of."
Imhotep pressed himself against the wall. "No. I may be damned, but I will never willingly serve Akethros."
"Suit yourself," the creature smiled slightly and turned away. "Oh, the Isisethren has been reborn. Perhaps you'll be sharing a cell with her soon. I might be able to arrange it."
Imhotep closed his eyes. "No…" he raced to the door, only to have it slam shut in his face.
"Have a nice day." The creature laughed mockingly as it locked the door behind it.
"You son of a whore!" Imhotep screamed at it.
The creature glanced back at Imhotep and pain lanced through his body, bringing him to his knees. "That wasn't nice." It said softly.
Imhotep bit his lip as he leaned his forehead against the wooden door. The creature giggled as it left him in pain. Finally, long after the thing had left, he was released from the torment and Imhotep sagged to the ground. "Remember, Hathor," he whispered. "Please, remember."
Sometimes, dreams can tell you something about yourself, about your past. And other times, they are only dreams.
From the Harvester's Journal
Soralis shifted restlessly in her sleep. The Medjai bodyguards who watched her from the shadows were not alone and they didn't like it much. All around them, the darkness seemed alive with half-glimpsed shapes, odd movements that they couldn't dismiss as normal. Yet when they turned around to face those intruders, they saw nothing. Whatever these things were, they caused no harm, save for completely unnerving normally fearless warriors.
***
Soralis could hear screaming. She could hear the screams of thousands of souls, souls who could never rest, who had been denied peace. Bleak despair filled the place like a toxic cloud. She could feel another presence walking beside her.
A man, or what appeared to be a man with a jackal head was matching her stride for stride. "It disturbs you doesn't it?" the jackal headed man asked.
Soralis nodded. "Yes. Why must you do this?" she asked softly.
"They do it to themselves." The jackal headed man replied cryptically. "Their own actions take them to this place; most were warned about the consequences of those actions. They ignored them and now suffer for their shortsightedness."
"Then why am I here?" she demanded.
The jackal headed man smiled. "Sometimes, even the damned can be redeemed." He looked at her. "You are the tool for that redemption, among other things." He said as he led her down twisting paths that ultimately led nowhere. He stopped short as the paths diverged.
"That path is one you must take alone. I will wait for you here."
Soralis took a step on the path as she did, there was a howl of rage and something huge slammed into her. She heard an answering shout from the jackal-man and the mists surrounding the path enveloped her before the pain could register.
***
Soralis blinked as she opened her eyes. "That was weird," she muttered. It was morning. Whatever it was that possessed the shadows around her had faded away as the sun rose; much to the relief of the Medjai Ardeth had ordered to stand guard outside her door. As she got ready for the day, the guards were rotated.
"Sayadi, we were not alone during the night." The senior guard reported to Ardeth. He didn't look surprised as the guard related what had gone on during his watch.
Ardeth frowned thoughtfully as the Medjai healer carefully changed the bandages on the burns and cuts, some of which were quite severe. "You were lucky they didn't have you any longer than they did." The healer, an old woman, remarked as she gently wrapped a bandage slathered with some sort of ointment around his burned hand.
"The lady is more than she says she is." The old woman; his grandmother said softly.
"What do you know of this?" Ardeth asked curiously. It was rare that his grandmother spoke up about such things.
"Old legends, legends of a group of sorcerers and fighters sworn to maintain a balance between good and evil, law and chaos." The woman shrugged. "I thought they were folk tales."
"Folk tales usually have a grain of truth in them good doctor." Soralis remarked as she walked into Ardeth's room.
"You are a Shadowlord," the woman replied.
Soralis inclined her head. "Yes and no, I have no idea what those shadow- things are. I've never run across them, but then, I've never set foot on Egyptian soil before this."
"What are you two talking about?" Ardeth said irritably.
Soralis sat down. "Ages ago, there was a long and bloody war between heaven and hell. This war almost tore the universe apart. It was god against god, demon against demon. When it was over, thousands of worlds that once were healthy, livable places like the Earth were destroyed. A group of mortals and immortals, both good and evil swore that this would never happen again. They formed a region between heaven and hell and separate from the earth realms, called the Shadow Realm. This place would be a meeting ground between light and dark, law and chaos." She paused, letting this information sink in.
"The lords of heaven and hell set this group up as the titular rulers of this new Realm. They called themselves the Shadowlords and it was decided that neither the lords of light or darkness would have complete domain over them." Soralis got up and looked through the window.
"We are sworn to keep a balance between good and evil. When there is no balance, chaos and evil rule and the universe starts to unravel."
"Then why are you here?" Ardeth asked. "This isn't something that will shatter the universe, though it is serious."
Soralis looked at him. "I am also the Harvester of Souls." She said baldly.
The entire room quieted. "Isisethren," Ardeth whispered. "You are the Isisethren."
This time it was Soralis' turn to look confused. "What?" she asked.
Ardeth smiled lightly. "I believe it is time for us both to tell each other everything we both know otherwise, we may wind up loosing it all." He remarked and began to explain.
***
Audric knelt before the altar. He was dressed only in a loincloth. The room shimmered with the heat of the fire he had lit and the walls of the stone room were lined with candles.
As he prayed, the air grew heavy. He could hear the moans and screams of innocent souls in torment, in pain. "What is your will, my lord?" Audric asked softly.
"Her return has been foretold in stone and in stars. This time, she will not be so easy to take. The blood of the eastern gods runs through her veins and shadows shield her…" the voice rumbled. "Her name means death and sorrow to the enemies of The Powers That Be."
Audric shivered. "What can we do about this?" he asked.
"Take that which is most precious to her; her love, the son she would have raised and her brother. She will be ours in order to safe guard their souls." He laughed. "She is the key to the book of the dead."
Audric's eyes glinted. "And after we retrieve what is ours?"
"Wipe them out and deliver her to me."
The man bowed his head. "Yes lord Akethros," he whispered.
***
Imhotep buried his face in his arms, crying softly. Everything, everything he had believed in lay crumbled in ruins at his feet. He had given everything for the woman he loved: his life, his honor and his soul. In return, she betrayed him, valuing her own life over his.
The room he was in had little in the ways of comfort. Only a hard pallet and a ratty blanket protected him from the room's chill. But then, he was already dead, so it hardly mattered one way or another.
A face glared at him through the barred window of his cell. He raised his head and saw the face of his tormenter. A twisted, evil mirror image of him gazed through the window bars as the thing opened the cell door and strode in.
The thing bent down, still smiling. "Too bad. Love is very fleeting isn't it brother?" the thing quipped.
"Why don't you just kill me now and get it over with?" Imhotep demanded angrily.
The creature laughed. "You're already dead. Remember? The offer still stands. Join my master and you will have all the power and revenge you've ever dreamed of."
Imhotep pressed himself against the wall. "No. I may be damned, but I will never willingly serve Akethros."
"Suit yourself," the creature smiled slightly and turned away. "Oh, the Isisethren has been reborn. Perhaps you'll be sharing a cell with her soon. I might be able to arrange it."
Imhotep closed his eyes. "No…" he raced to the door, only to have it slam shut in his face.
"Have a nice day." The creature laughed mockingly as it locked the door behind it.
"You son of a whore!" Imhotep screamed at it.
The creature glanced back at Imhotep and pain lanced through his body, bringing him to his knees. "That wasn't nice." It said softly.
Imhotep bit his lip as he leaned his forehead against the wooden door. The creature giggled as it left him in pain. Finally, long after the thing had left, he was released from the torment and Imhotep sagged to the ground. "Remember, Hathor," he whispered. "Please, remember."
