I am not making any money with this. I do not own Lara Croft, Tomb Raider
etc.
Only to be archived at Fanfiction.net and 'Lara Croft's Tales of Beauty and Power'. All other sites email me first to gain permission.
Disclaimer, Thank-Yous and some other notes at the end of the story.
========================================================= The Last Revelation Part V: Broken Skies by Heidi Ahlmen (siirma6@surfeu.fi) =========================================================
Chapter 4
Outside, everything was changing. Clouds roared aside, and for the first time in days, everyone in Cairo could look at the sky and tell the time of the day.
The sun was setting above the pyramids. Black and red clouds eventually disappeared from sight, and a rich sky of stars lit over Egypt.
The wind blew - but this one only could carry soft sand, not crickets.
People came out on the streets. No one remained inside, as a miracle was taking place. Finally, the apocalyptic atmosphere was gone.
In a balcony, downtown Cairo, stood Jean-Yves DuCarmine. He felt old, as if time had ran away with the clouds. The intention of the moment raised water into his eyes as he stood in the wind.
All this was saved.
His Cairo, his Alexandria. Lara Croft had succeeded. Heroes often died as the consequences of their actions. Jean almost felt an urge to cross his fingers if that would prevent Lara from suffering the same fate.
A saying of hers made Jean smile.
'I make my own luck.'
And she truly did.
After a half a mile of spike pits, slanted stone blocks, dimly lit corridors, and collapsing pillars Lara could no longer run. All her leg could bear was limping inch by inch forward to a dark, upwards curving hallway. The air felt suddenly cooler. Lara's lungs were still yelling for air as she noticed the sight more beautiful than an unfound treasure.
Daylight. Very dim, but yet daylight. Lara limped forward. Wondering if the storm had not ended, it took her awhile to realize it was evening.
Panting heavily, Lara kept going as some rocks fell just behind her. After two metres she stopped, surprised.
Someone was standing in the doorway of the temple. A slight, relieved smile washed over her face for a second, until she realized who it was.
Von Croy. Alive as ever, dressed in his regular beige suit.
But there was no time to waste. More and more rocks started falling, and Lara looked around her, panic almost gripping her.
"Quickly girl, before it collapses around you!" Von Croy yelled, to Lara's surprise. She had expected at least a gun.
Lara dodged a large piece of the hallway ceiling that collapsed in front of her feet, making the floor shake. She had to get out of there.
"You're back, Werner? No more Set?" she spat out in a pleading tone. She had to make sure.
Had to make sure the creature had not escaped.
Von Croy wasn't having any of it. "There's no time! Your hand, Lara! Give me your hand!"
Still reluctant to get indebted, Lara didn't make a move until huge rocks started falling and the hallway floor gave away under her. Ignoring the painful messages her leg was sending, she began running for safety.
She was too late. The floor collapsed into darkness, and Lara fell. She managed to grab hold of a floor tile, but she was too tired, too exhausted to pull herself up. A gorge had opened between her and von Croy.
"Take my hand, Lara! I can pull you to safety!" von Croy yelled to her.
He was too far away. She was alone, again.
"Good to see you again, Werner," Lara commented sarcastically, and grabbed hold of the tile with her other hand. She wasn't going to be able to climb up. She would have to let go and fall down to whatever was below her.
"I couldn't leave you!" von Croy yelled, still holding out his hand.
'Damn great you didn't', Lara thought as the rest of the floor collapsed down to total darkness below. The tile she was hanging onto got loose, and finally collapsed.
And Lara fell with the rest of the collapsing hallway out of the pyramid.
John Crowley, ambassador for Great Britain in Egypt, put the receiver down and leaned back on his chair. Turning the chair around, he looked out of the window down to the streets of Cairo. News like this had been rare under his period in Egypt, and gotten fewer with the terrorist attacks and the recent political situation.
And every once in a while a tourist got bitten by a scorpion and got a ride home in a casket. Unfortunate but inevitable. There were no scorpions in Great Britain.
He was from Glasgow, son of a tailor. He'd gotten himself this far with hard work. When he'd found out being a diplomatic was a desk job, he'd managed to become the ambassador. Dealing with foreign guests, robbed Brits and archaeological dig permits for museums, he felt important.
This was not going to be a good advertisement for him. Deaths in mysterious circumstances wasn't good for tourism.
At first he'd thought of it as a joke. But after the recent weather events and tabloid headlines he couldn't easily dismiss the phone call he had just received.
He turned back to his desk and pressed a button on his phone.
"Yes?" Echoed through a speaker.
"Sheila? Could you please bring me the excavation permits for this year."
The phone went dead. After a few minutes his secretary walked in and placed a sheet of paper and a cup of tea on his desk. She studied her face. "Bad news?"
"Perhaps. Thank you," he dismissed her. She marched out.
Only one excavation permit? For the British Museum.
A strange phone call, indeed. A male voice with a strong hint of German in his English had informed him that an employee of the British Museum, archaeologist Lara Croft had been killed as a temple in Giza had collapsed.
Temple? Collapsed? In Giza - the excavation permit was for Alexandria.
Shrugging to himself, John sought out the name of the leader of the excavation. Jean-Yves DuCarmine. He dialled a local number given for Alexandria. No answer.
There was a handwritten cellphone number below. John dialled it. He hated speaking to someone in a cellphone - he'd become very aware how lousy the Egyptian GSM network was.
After a few signals someone answered.
"Evening? Is this a Mr DuCarmine?"
"Yes?" a French-hinting male voice replied.
"This is John Crowley, ambassador of Great Britain calling. I have just received a phone call saying a member of your excavation team in Alexandria has been killed in an accident."
"Killed? Who?" Jean sounded concerned.
John leaned back on his chair. "A Miss Lara Croft."
Jean said nothing. He couldn't believe. It could not be true. Just couldn't. She had succeeded - hadn't she? Making sure, Jean walked to the balcony and was greeted by a starry sky.
"She is not a member of my team, but I do know her." Jean replied silently.
"I am sorry for the loss, and was hoping that you could make some arrangements for the body to be transported to Britain for a proper funeral. Things like this are always very sad - there are a lot of reports and papers to be filled.," John started his usual speech.
Jean did not say anything. Staring out into night, he let the phone fall from his hand.
He'd been aware of the possibility. But he had never really accepted it.
Not Lara.
On the other end of the phone line, John finished his usual speech, and said a polite goodbye.
In the balcony, Jean pressed the red received in his cellphone, and left it on the sofa. He silently walked to the kitchen, and found his wallet on a chair. He dug out a crumpled piece paper he'd never thought he'd need.
On the piece of paper was written a phone number. Given by Lara to him for their trip to Cambodia, it was for the greatest emergency. Jean collected his phone from the sofa, and dialled the number, sighing heavily.
"Could I please speak to Lord Henshingly Croft? Thank you," Jean said as someone picked up the phone in Britain.
Ten kilometres from downtown Cairo, the pyramids greeted the African Moon as it rose to greet the land of the Nile. The are was calm, not even the pyramid guards walked around. Egypt was sleeping.
Inside the Great pyramid, beyond traps and gorges, lay the Temple of Horus. And further away, deep down in the Earth, was a dark chamber full of collapsed rocks.
And in the darkness, lay Lara Croft. Covered in dust and sand, body bruised and tired after a battle and with a mild concussion created by a five-metre fall to the chamber floor.
High up, light from outside the temple covered the walls in an eerie glow.
Lara returned to consciousness. Sitting up as slowly as she could, she stretched her back. Ignoring her headache and blurry thoughts, she inspected her surroundings.
She was in total darkness somewhere under the exit of the temple. From the light shining in the chamber ceiling she could tell it was night. She's been unconscious - or sleeping for a steady hour or two.
Amusing as it was, almost nothing in her body seemed to be broken. Blood- trickling bruises were many, but the only thing had broken after a five- metre fall was her right little finger. She must have tried to soften the fall with her hands.
Her left leg, with the souvenir from Set, didn't hurt so terribly much anymore. Luckily.
Lara dug out a flare from her backpack. She ripped off the cover, and the chemicals lit.
The room she was in was a half-finished rocky chamber. The eastern wall had been carved into a pillar-supported crypt, but most of it was still rock and sand.
Lara stood up and strapped her backpack in her back. She discarded the dimming flare, and lit another one.
She walked around the chamber, not letting herself become worried. It was possible that there was no exit - that someone had blocked it. But there must've been a door of some sorts - how could someone have carved the chamber without one?
There indeed was a door. It was so deep in the shadows of the unfinished part of the area that it had not been visible to the place she had fallen down to.
It was not blocked. Relieved, Lara entered it.
Another dark hallway.
-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~
As always, comments and reviews would be much appreciated - they're the fuel that feeds this creative furnace.
siirma6@surfeu.fi
Only to be archived at Fanfiction.net and 'Lara Croft's Tales of Beauty and Power'. All other sites email me first to gain permission.
Disclaimer, Thank-Yous and some other notes at the end of the story.
========================================================= The Last Revelation Part V: Broken Skies by Heidi Ahlmen (siirma6@surfeu.fi) =========================================================
Chapter 4
Outside, everything was changing. Clouds roared aside, and for the first time in days, everyone in Cairo could look at the sky and tell the time of the day.
The sun was setting above the pyramids. Black and red clouds eventually disappeared from sight, and a rich sky of stars lit over Egypt.
The wind blew - but this one only could carry soft sand, not crickets.
People came out on the streets. No one remained inside, as a miracle was taking place. Finally, the apocalyptic atmosphere was gone.
In a balcony, downtown Cairo, stood Jean-Yves DuCarmine. He felt old, as if time had ran away with the clouds. The intention of the moment raised water into his eyes as he stood in the wind.
All this was saved.
His Cairo, his Alexandria. Lara Croft had succeeded. Heroes often died as the consequences of their actions. Jean almost felt an urge to cross his fingers if that would prevent Lara from suffering the same fate.
A saying of hers made Jean smile.
'I make my own luck.'
And she truly did.
After a half a mile of spike pits, slanted stone blocks, dimly lit corridors, and collapsing pillars Lara could no longer run. All her leg could bear was limping inch by inch forward to a dark, upwards curving hallway. The air felt suddenly cooler. Lara's lungs were still yelling for air as she noticed the sight more beautiful than an unfound treasure.
Daylight. Very dim, but yet daylight. Lara limped forward. Wondering if the storm had not ended, it took her awhile to realize it was evening.
Panting heavily, Lara kept going as some rocks fell just behind her. After two metres she stopped, surprised.
Someone was standing in the doorway of the temple. A slight, relieved smile washed over her face for a second, until she realized who it was.
Von Croy. Alive as ever, dressed in his regular beige suit.
But there was no time to waste. More and more rocks started falling, and Lara looked around her, panic almost gripping her.
"Quickly girl, before it collapses around you!" Von Croy yelled, to Lara's surprise. She had expected at least a gun.
Lara dodged a large piece of the hallway ceiling that collapsed in front of her feet, making the floor shake. She had to get out of there.
"You're back, Werner? No more Set?" she spat out in a pleading tone. She had to make sure.
Had to make sure the creature had not escaped.
Von Croy wasn't having any of it. "There's no time! Your hand, Lara! Give me your hand!"
Still reluctant to get indebted, Lara didn't make a move until huge rocks started falling and the hallway floor gave away under her. Ignoring the painful messages her leg was sending, she began running for safety.
She was too late. The floor collapsed into darkness, and Lara fell. She managed to grab hold of a floor tile, but she was too tired, too exhausted to pull herself up. A gorge had opened between her and von Croy.
"Take my hand, Lara! I can pull you to safety!" von Croy yelled to her.
He was too far away. She was alone, again.
"Good to see you again, Werner," Lara commented sarcastically, and grabbed hold of the tile with her other hand. She wasn't going to be able to climb up. She would have to let go and fall down to whatever was below her.
"I couldn't leave you!" von Croy yelled, still holding out his hand.
'Damn great you didn't', Lara thought as the rest of the floor collapsed down to total darkness below. The tile she was hanging onto got loose, and finally collapsed.
And Lara fell with the rest of the collapsing hallway out of the pyramid.
John Crowley, ambassador for Great Britain in Egypt, put the receiver down and leaned back on his chair. Turning the chair around, he looked out of the window down to the streets of Cairo. News like this had been rare under his period in Egypt, and gotten fewer with the terrorist attacks and the recent political situation.
And every once in a while a tourist got bitten by a scorpion and got a ride home in a casket. Unfortunate but inevitable. There were no scorpions in Great Britain.
He was from Glasgow, son of a tailor. He'd gotten himself this far with hard work. When he'd found out being a diplomatic was a desk job, he'd managed to become the ambassador. Dealing with foreign guests, robbed Brits and archaeological dig permits for museums, he felt important.
This was not going to be a good advertisement for him. Deaths in mysterious circumstances wasn't good for tourism.
At first he'd thought of it as a joke. But after the recent weather events and tabloid headlines he couldn't easily dismiss the phone call he had just received.
He turned back to his desk and pressed a button on his phone.
"Yes?" Echoed through a speaker.
"Sheila? Could you please bring me the excavation permits for this year."
The phone went dead. After a few minutes his secretary walked in and placed a sheet of paper and a cup of tea on his desk. She studied her face. "Bad news?"
"Perhaps. Thank you," he dismissed her. She marched out.
Only one excavation permit? For the British Museum.
A strange phone call, indeed. A male voice with a strong hint of German in his English had informed him that an employee of the British Museum, archaeologist Lara Croft had been killed as a temple in Giza had collapsed.
Temple? Collapsed? In Giza - the excavation permit was for Alexandria.
Shrugging to himself, John sought out the name of the leader of the excavation. Jean-Yves DuCarmine. He dialled a local number given for Alexandria. No answer.
There was a handwritten cellphone number below. John dialled it. He hated speaking to someone in a cellphone - he'd become very aware how lousy the Egyptian GSM network was.
After a few signals someone answered.
"Evening? Is this a Mr DuCarmine?"
"Yes?" a French-hinting male voice replied.
"This is John Crowley, ambassador of Great Britain calling. I have just received a phone call saying a member of your excavation team in Alexandria has been killed in an accident."
"Killed? Who?" Jean sounded concerned.
John leaned back on his chair. "A Miss Lara Croft."
Jean said nothing. He couldn't believe. It could not be true. Just couldn't. She had succeeded - hadn't she? Making sure, Jean walked to the balcony and was greeted by a starry sky.
"She is not a member of my team, but I do know her." Jean replied silently.
"I am sorry for the loss, and was hoping that you could make some arrangements for the body to be transported to Britain for a proper funeral. Things like this are always very sad - there are a lot of reports and papers to be filled.," John started his usual speech.
Jean did not say anything. Staring out into night, he let the phone fall from his hand.
He'd been aware of the possibility. But he had never really accepted it.
Not Lara.
On the other end of the phone line, John finished his usual speech, and said a polite goodbye.
In the balcony, Jean pressed the red received in his cellphone, and left it on the sofa. He silently walked to the kitchen, and found his wallet on a chair. He dug out a crumpled piece paper he'd never thought he'd need.
On the piece of paper was written a phone number. Given by Lara to him for their trip to Cambodia, it was for the greatest emergency. Jean collected his phone from the sofa, and dialled the number, sighing heavily.
"Could I please speak to Lord Henshingly Croft? Thank you," Jean said as someone picked up the phone in Britain.
Ten kilometres from downtown Cairo, the pyramids greeted the African Moon as it rose to greet the land of the Nile. The are was calm, not even the pyramid guards walked around. Egypt was sleeping.
Inside the Great pyramid, beyond traps and gorges, lay the Temple of Horus. And further away, deep down in the Earth, was a dark chamber full of collapsed rocks.
And in the darkness, lay Lara Croft. Covered in dust and sand, body bruised and tired after a battle and with a mild concussion created by a five-metre fall to the chamber floor.
High up, light from outside the temple covered the walls in an eerie glow.
Lara returned to consciousness. Sitting up as slowly as she could, she stretched her back. Ignoring her headache and blurry thoughts, she inspected her surroundings.
She was in total darkness somewhere under the exit of the temple. From the light shining in the chamber ceiling she could tell it was night. She's been unconscious - or sleeping for a steady hour or two.
Amusing as it was, almost nothing in her body seemed to be broken. Blood- trickling bruises were many, but the only thing had broken after a five- metre fall was her right little finger. She must have tried to soften the fall with her hands.
Her left leg, with the souvenir from Set, didn't hurt so terribly much anymore. Luckily.
Lara dug out a flare from her backpack. She ripped off the cover, and the chemicals lit.
The room she was in was a half-finished rocky chamber. The eastern wall had been carved into a pillar-supported crypt, but most of it was still rock and sand.
Lara stood up and strapped her backpack in her back. She discarded the dimming flare, and lit another one.
She walked around the chamber, not letting herself become worried. It was possible that there was no exit - that someone had blocked it. But there must've been a door of some sorts - how could someone have carved the chamber without one?
There indeed was a door. It was so deep in the shadows of the unfinished part of the area that it had not been visible to the place she had fallen down to.
It was not blocked. Relieved, Lara entered it.
Another dark hallway.
-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~
As always, comments and reviews would be much appreciated - they're the fuel that feeds this creative furnace.
siirma6@surfeu.fi