Chapter 1: Pet

Rishid strode silently down the hall in Malik's Domino stronghold. Malik was currently in his room, planning who-knew-what, and Rishid knew that he would be safe. He made his way downstairs, finally ducking into his own room and closing the door. There he pulled a cell phone out from its hiding place behind the nightstand, and dialed a number. It rang several times, before a female voice answered.

"Hello?"

"Isis," he said quietly.

"Rishid!" She sounded delighted to hear him. "You're safe, right?"

"I wouldn't be calling you, otherwise." He smiled. "Despite the influence from his 'darker' half, Malik still is very naïve. At this point he trusts me very much, so I don't have to worry about losing track of him."

Isis sighed with relief. "On my side, things are developing according to plan. I have already contacted the Pharaoh and told him parts of our story. With the way Malik is behaving now, we don't have to worry about the Pharaoh not seeing him as a threat. He will definitely be defeated."

"Better yet, I predict that, in time, Malik will come to see his 'other half' as a threat as well. Either way, we win." Rishid smiled again. "And of course, who would the Pharaoh and his friends listen to? The psychopath trying to take over the world, or the devoted siblings trying to save their dear brother from 'himself'?"

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Isis sat with her mother, reading. Though her whole life was devoted to guarding the Pharaoh's memories and their bearer, and as such she would not be spending much time outside of the tombs, her mother still insisted that she learn languages and be educated. She was her mother's only child, and, being a girl, would share the burden of guarding the tombs with her adopted older brother, Rishid. Isis could read, speak, and write in Ancient Egyptian, but her mother insisted that was a dead language. As such, she was learning modern languages such as Arabic and English. She was quite fascinated by the Arabic, with its pretty, swirly lines of writing that could be made to form almost any shape.  After her reading session was over, they moved on towards History. Isis glanced up, to check on Malik, and her mother did likewise. Satisfied that he was still playing happily with the marbles, they returned to their lesson.

Isis took her duty as a Guardian seriously. Even after her mother died and only her father was left, she still did her best to be the best Guardian ever. She wasn't sure if she completely agreed with her father's system. Being strict and harsh with Malik definitely kept Malik under control, in a cowed, miserable sort of way, but she had the feeling that it wasn't the best idea. If he learned now only to respond to violence, how would he react to her, when she treated him differently?

Isis brought this problem before Rishid, slightly disturbed. Rishid only smiled at her.

"You're forgetting something," he told Isis kindly, "by the time your father is dead, Malik won't remember him anymore, anyway."

Life in the tombs was monotonic, but Isis always had her books. Studying took up the most part of her time, and she would read for recreation as well. Sometimes, though she knew it was forbidden, she would go and play with Malik. He was always happy to see her, and sometimes she found herself reacting to his innocent gaze and happy laugh the way she would towards a younger brother. Whenever she caught herself thinking that, she would immediately leave him, admonishing herself sternly. She knew that Malik wasn't her brother, and if her father caught her treating him as a brother, or Ra forbid, teaching him something, she would probably be in for a beating. Nonetheless, she would watch him, feeling strangely drawn to him. Having grown up with him as she had, you would have thought that she'd be used to him. After all, he hadn't changed much in the time she'd known him. He still had the same obedient, cheerful personality, and the short attention span.

Sometimes she found herself wondering whether it would be possible to really teach him anything. Would his mind start developing, then? Of course, she would never dare to do such a thing, because of the danger. Her mother had warned her constantly about him, and she knew the doctrine well. There was no purpose in her trying to befriend him, since someday he would no longer remember her, either. But the true danger was of him rebelling, because there was no knowing what damage he could cause.

Of course, he talked. He didn't have a very large vocabulary, but he could definitely manage. Sometimes Isis would sit and tell him stories, but even then she was careful, and most of them dealt with blind obedience to the gods. It also helped that he would naively accept almost any explanation she came up with; once, she had told him a story of the Sun God Ra, and he had asked what the sun looked like.

"It's a large ball, hanging in the sky that makes light."

He looked confused. "But how can a ball hang in the sky if nothing holds it up?"

"Ra holds it up. The gods can do everything."

"So why does a stone fall when I let go and the 'sun' doesn't?"

"Because they are gods, and that's what they decided. We mustn't ask why."

Malik nodded cheerfully, and that was the end of the conversation.

Isis first became aware of the danger when she was about thirteen years old. She was sitting in her room, embroidering on a shirt, when Malik walked in. He watched her working for a few minutes, then spoke up.

"Isis, why can't I go outside? I want to go out."

Isis nearly pricked her finger in shock. He wasn't supposed to ask questions like that! Trying to hide how shaken she was, she continued embroidering, while answering as calmly as she could. "But Malik, you know that we can't go out! It's our duty to stay in here!" She looked at him. "We mustn't do something so bad like rebelling! That would be wrong!" Isis studied his features sharply, looking for any kind of clue, but he just smiled innocently as he always did. "Okay, Isis," he said, before turning and wandering away.

Isis immediately put down her sewing and ran into Rishid's room, almost hysterical.

"What did we do?" she cried. "He's not supposed to question his duty! He never has!"

"But you said he seemed back to normal afterwards," Rishid mused.

"What if he's pretending? We might have failed in our sworn duty! In all the things I've learned about him, he's never asked a question like that! He's not supposed to be capable of asking a question like that!"

Rishid pondered. "We'll watch him," he said finally. "If it gets worse, then we'll have to tell your father, but not before then." Both of them were very afraid of Isis' father. The penalties he would lay on them if he discovered this would be very heavy.

As it turned out, there wasn't much they could do, as was demonstrated about two weeks later. Malik's behavior began changing rapidly. His innocent smile was replaced by an angry glare, and his blank eyes gained the gleam of dangerous intelligence. And he no longer trusted Isis. He still cared about Rishid, but didn't trust him either. In a quiet conversation one night, they decided that, in this situation, the best they could do was to try to gain and keep his trust. Malik would be dealt with later.

They did not expect him to murder Isis' father. At that point they knew that the evil creature within him was once again awake.