M-Sama's Note: No, I have not died. Until recently, I have had a very bad case of writer's block as to how I was going to handle this little problem. Then I came across a solution. STALL!
Just kidding. This next one's short, but I'm going to go write more now, so you shouldn't be waiting too much longer. Thank you so much for all your patience! I'll do my best to justify it.
Chapter 10: Legend of the Scions
As the French professor and his two assistants traced out the story of joy and pain written on the wall, there was one tale that was not found there, and it is a shame, for it should have been. A great deal of heartache would have likely been avoided if only this tale had been widely known. There is an ancient tale, as old as the duel magics themselves, originating when the great and powerful Narmer chained the wild spirits to their prisons of stone, only to rise from their slumber when the right person called in the right way. It is Narmer's legacy, inscribed on very sides of his sarcophagus.
Ye who would unleash the power of darkness, take heed.
If you would wield this power to save Egypt from destruction, take the items and do what you must, but be warned. When the crisis passes, seal the magic quickly. For if the shadow way is called upon too often, the blackness from the hearts of those who open it will feed into the power of the magic. The shadow will swell, gorged from the anger, fear, and desperation of countless duels to the death until the limits of this world become too weak to contain it, and the shadow shall rupture and spill. And the gods shall descend from heaven to unleash their own terrible wrath on those who would command them. But before their coming they shall send messengers.
Scions. Children of shadow and darkness. Human but not. Their faces shall speak of their unworldly origins. Born knowing. Demonic knowledge, sent with them from the underworld. Ye shalt know them by this light. They are the angels of doom. Upon the arrival of the first, seal the magics instantly. For scions free in a world of magic will be drawn to it, and the magic shall respond to them, for it is of their clay, it pulses in their veins. And through them shall the magic unleash the minions of Seth, and the gates of chaos open on the world.
But as they are angels of doom, so are they the means of salvation, for only the life-blood of the magic ones may close the gates of chaos, sending the horrors back to the underworld. The below rites must only be attempted if all other means have failed.
Ye who wouldst call upon the powers of darkness; the price is high. Proceed only if you are willing to give your very eternal life unto the jaws of the Ammit the Developer to accomplish your goal.
All this was written on the sarcophagus of Narmer, surrounding the seven imprints where the items were to be placed, safe from the hands of evil for all eternity.
When the sorcerer who became Amenhotep I unleashed that power, he gathered the seven items from the tombs of Narmer's aides who had died so that the power of their treasure might die with them. He placed them in the stone lid, amid these dire inscriptions. The lid split, a crack running all the way straight down it's stone face. As the magic was freed, these inscriptions glowed with an unholy luster, and then turned to dust, leaving nothing on the lid but the dead king's cloven portrait. Doom was written on those blank stone sides. Perhaps it was destiny that foolish souls should drive recklessly down the very path Narmer warned against, leaving chaos and suffering in their wake. Maybe there is no such thing as mercy in this world. Maybe it was fate that the noblest soul of all would be the one who would pay the highest price to thwart the catastrophe his own existence should have warned him against…