Author's Notes: *blinks* I like this review system... I'm already
addicted to email but this is just as fun... LOL... Umm, here's
chapter two... Keep writing those comments, good, bad, whatever... if
bad please let me know what you think could be improved upon! Thanks!
~Kei
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: All standard disclaimers apply! =)
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~Akayla Bay : Chapter Two~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Alex rode his horse hard. He wanted to reach the remains of
Hamunaptra before night fell. It was cold in the desert at night and
he preferred to spend it among friends, or at least among allies. He
was never sure what the Medjai were, even if his father called them
friends. Or more specifically, they were only his parent's friends...
God knows if the courtesy extended to him. The only man he truly
understood from them was Ardeth Bay. Fingers unconsciously reached
inside his weathered leather vest to feel the crumpled letter in the
breast pocket of his stained, once white shirt.
Ardeth he understood, Ardeth he called friend. He hadn't seen him for
over twenty years, since that one-week when Alex, a mere boy, had
served as the catalyst for the end of the world, an end that was
avoided through the heroic efforts of his parents and Ardeth Bay. He
and the Medjai had kept up a correspondence through the decades, two
men from opposite spectrums of society- he a Londoner, Ardeth a man of
the desert. They had written of many things, of history and legend,
of love and grief, of adventure and of death. Ardeth was more than
courageous, more than one of the mythical heroes who lived and
breathed today... More than a man with a sword... He was brilliant,
witty, and had a sense of humor that made Alex laugh. While his
father and mother had been off, lost in the depths of unknown,
unnamed forests and mountains for half of his life Alex, when not with
them, had studied, worked, and written Ardeth. He was like a second
father to him, like an Uncle who managed to impart wisdom and guidance
despite the miles that separated them.
So when the letter had come, that brief and puzzling letter,
Alex had done what it asked of him. He came, to Egypt, to the ruins
of Hamunaptra, to the Medjai. Hesitant fingers pulled the creased
letter out. He unfolded it, carefully, and read it for the thousandth
time in the last hour of sunlight before darkness claimed the world.
The air was already becoming biting cold.
'Dear Alex... Fate and Destiny calls to me, and to you. Come,
quickly, you are needed... ~Ardeth'
It was important, whatever Ardeth knew, of that Alex had no
doubt. If it had been something trivial, something of little
consequence then there would have been more, details, warnings,
something besides the two short imploring sentences.
He had come alone, though the letter had not asked that of
him. His mother and father, Evie and Rick O'Connell, were off
exploring the darkest crevices of that giant continent of Asia, along
with his younger sister, Callie. Alex snorted to himself. Callie was
impossible, and not just because she was his younger sister. He at
least had some of his mother in him, along with his father, Callie was
a hellion. There was no other way to describe her, except barbaric.
She had an English accent but every other inch of her screamed
deplorable American. He smiled at the thought. She was twelve and
just now starting to bloom into a beautiful young woman. She had
Evie's looks, long dark hair and expressive eyes, but look any deeper
and all you found was Rick O'Connell. She insisted on carrying loaded
pistols around her waist and charged, head first, into everything.
History was a slightly interesting footnote to the search for the
unknown and dangerous. She was wild, impulsive, and had every single
one of them wrapped around her little pinkie, especially Jonathan
Carnahan, their real Uncle.
Jonathan knew of his nephew's destination and wanted nothing to do
with it. He was perfectly happy being a favorite dandy in the Queen's
court, surrounded by riches and money, much of it his own. Not even
he had managed to waste and gamble and drink away the gold he received
from the diamond he and Izzie had split in the decades following Ahm
Shere. Alex had gotten a good luck pat and a parting bag of gold.
Jonathan was a good man; he was simply fond of his own skin.
Alex pocketed the letter with a sigh and kicked his tired mount into
one last gallop. He reached Hamunaptra as true night set in, or what
was left of it. After his parent's escapades almost three decades ago
no ruins remained, only sand, miles of it, and the black skull his
delightfully morbid mother had drawn on the family's Egyptian map.
She had drawn a crude scaled down pygmy at Ahm Shere though, so Alex
could hardly complain about the skull.
He unpacked and set up camp at the edge of what had once been the
richest city in the world. It was unsettling, to say the least, and
even his horse was skittish. His fire was slow to start and the
howling wind bit even deeper than normal. He shivered as the deep
penetrating cold set in, before giving up on the reluctant fire and
finding what little warmth he managed in his bedroll, with his horse
hobbled nearby. It was not a restful night, there, where the ghosts
of monsters and innocents could so easily whisper in his ear. Alex's
stark solace was the beauty of the Egyptian sky- an inky quilt that
blanketed heaven with its fields of diamond strewn stars.
Well, the stars and the fact that the Medjai wasted little time in
finding him. He was awakened, not by the sun that was just now
starting to peak over the horizon in a gaudy display of splendor, but
by a sword's cold steel, pressed lightly but surely against his
throat. He opened startled eyes and blinked when he saw that he was
surrounded by men with familiar dark robes and tattooed cheeks. And
that it was a woman holding the sword to his throat. She smiled and
Alex swore that, had it been possible for a demon and an angel to
possess the same form, that they both possessed her.
"Well outsider," she taunted in a light voice, only barely flavored by
her native tongue as cold dark eyes stared him down, "any last words?"
addicted to email but this is just as fun... LOL... Umm, here's
chapter two... Keep writing those comments, good, bad, whatever... if
bad please let me know what you think could be improved upon! Thanks!
~Kei
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: All standard disclaimers apply! =)
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~Akayla Bay : Chapter Two~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Alex rode his horse hard. He wanted to reach the remains of
Hamunaptra before night fell. It was cold in the desert at night and
he preferred to spend it among friends, or at least among allies. He
was never sure what the Medjai were, even if his father called them
friends. Or more specifically, they were only his parent's friends...
God knows if the courtesy extended to him. The only man he truly
understood from them was Ardeth Bay. Fingers unconsciously reached
inside his weathered leather vest to feel the crumpled letter in the
breast pocket of his stained, once white shirt.
Ardeth he understood, Ardeth he called friend. He hadn't seen him for
over twenty years, since that one-week when Alex, a mere boy, had
served as the catalyst for the end of the world, an end that was
avoided through the heroic efforts of his parents and Ardeth Bay. He
and the Medjai had kept up a correspondence through the decades, two
men from opposite spectrums of society- he a Londoner, Ardeth a man of
the desert. They had written of many things, of history and legend,
of love and grief, of adventure and of death. Ardeth was more than
courageous, more than one of the mythical heroes who lived and
breathed today... More than a man with a sword... He was brilliant,
witty, and had a sense of humor that made Alex laugh. While his
father and mother had been off, lost in the depths of unknown,
unnamed forests and mountains for half of his life Alex, when not with
them, had studied, worked, and written Ardeth. He was like a second
father to him, like an Uncle who managed to impart wisdom and guidance
despite the miles that separated them.
So when the letter had come, that brief and puzzling letter,
Alex had done what it asked of him. He came, to Egypt, to the ruins
of Hamunaptra, to the Medjai. Hesitant fingers pulled the creased
letter out. He unfolded it, carefully, and read it for the thousandth
time in the last hour of sunlight before darkness claimed the world.
The air was already becoming biting cold.
'Dear Alex... Fate and Destiny calls to me, and to you. Come,
quickly, you are needed... ~Ardeth'
It was important, whatever Ardeth knew, of that Alex had no
doubt. If it had been something trivial, something of little
consequence then there would have been more, details, warnings,
something besides the two short imploring sentences.
He had come alone, though the letter had not asked that of
him. His mother and father, Evie and Rick O'Connell, were off
exploring the darkest crevices of that giant continent of Asia, along
with his younger sister, Callie. Alex snorted to himself. Callie was
impossible, and not just because she was his younger sister. He at
least had some of his mother in him, along with his father, Callie was
a hellion. There was no other way to describe her, except barbaric.
She had an English accent but every other inch of her screamed
deplorable American. He smiled at the thought. She was twelve and
just now starting to bloom into a beautiful young woman. She had
Evie's looks, long dark hair and expressive eyes, but look any deeper
and all you found was Rick O'Connell. She insisted on carrying loaded
pistols around her waist and charged, head first, into everything.
History was a slightly interesting footnote to the search for the
unknown and dangerous. She was wild, impulsive, and had every single
one of them wrapped around her little pinkie, especially Jonathan
Carnahan, their real Uncle.
Jonathan knew of his nephew's destination and wanted nothing to do
with it. He was perfectly happy being a favorite dandy in the Queen's
court, surrounded by riches and money, much of it his own. Not even
he had managed to waste and gamble and drink away the gold he received
from the diamond he and Izzie had split in the decades following Ahm
Shere. Alex had gotten a good luck pat and a parting bag of gold.
Jonathan was a good man; he was simply fond of his own skin.
Alex pocketed the letter with a sigh and kicked his tired mount into
one last gallop. He reached Hamunaptra as true night set in, or what
was left of it. After his parent's escapades almost three decades ago
no ruins remained, only sand, miles of it, and the black skull his
delightfully morbid mother had drawn on the family's Egyptian map.
She had drawn a crude scaled down pygmy at Ahm Shere though, so Alex
could hardly complain about the skull.
He unpacked and set up camp at the edge of what had once been the
richest city in the world. It was unsettling, to say the least, and
even his horse was skittish. His fire was slow to start and the
howling wind bit even deeper than normal. He shivered as the deep
penetrating cold set in, before giving up on the reluctant fire and
finding what little warmth he managed in his bedroll, with his horse
hobbled nearby. It was not a restful night, there, where the ghosts
of monsters and innocents could so easily whisper in his ear. Alex's
stark solace was the beauty of the Egyptian sky- an inky quilt that
blanketed heaven with its fields of diamond strewn stars.
Well, the stars and the fact that the Medjai wasted little time in
finding him. He was awakened, not by the sun that was just now
starting to peak over the horizon in a gaudy display of splendor, but
by a sword's cold steel, pressed lightly but surely against his
throat. He opened startled eyes and blinked when he saw that he was
surrounded by men with familiar dark robes and tattooed cheeks. And
that it was a woman holding the sword to his throat. She smiled and
Alex swore that, had it been possible for a demon and an angel to
possess the same form, that they both possessed her.
"Well outsider," she taunted in a light voice, only barely flavored by
her native tongue as cold dark eyes stared him down, "any last words?"