Many years passed. Masika was long gone, as were her children, and their children, and so on. All the while, leaving Amumu in peace.
They thought.
Meanwhile, a glow of light was growing brighter all the time. It pulsed like fire in the dark tomb. It reflected off of the surrounding golden objects left in the tomb for comfort in the afterlife.
And this was no ordinary light. It was a light like nothing else. Not fire, not sunlight. It was as if the light had been spun from the purest of gold by the gods themselves.
It was coming from the sarcophagus, spilling out of the seam between the lid and cask. It started as a thin line on the wall, but, in time, it grew to illuminate the whole tomb. The mummy glowed the color of the setting sun.
The source of this holy light? A very special gift, given to the mummified child by loved ones. A gift that promised to protect him forever.
A small golden ring. It rested on the middle finger of his right hand. The ring, filled with the love of a doting mother, the tears of a grieving sister, and the blessings of a grateful child, shined bright through the darkness.
As the light grew, the ring began to sink into the bandages. Ghostly floating through the cloth toward the hidden hand. Little by little, the ring returned to the finger.
The day that the ring touched the mummified finger, the light was drawn into the mummy. The body began to levitate a little inside the sarcophagus. The mask that had covered his face vanished. The pyramid shook and the wall cracked a little, letting in a small beam of real sunlight from high in the room. It illuminated the plaque at the foot of the sarcophagus.
The light flowed into the mummy's face. As it did so, the remains of the mummy's eyes began to clear. Their mysterious green color ran through the bandages as the light pooled beneath his eyelids. The green soaked into every inch of the mummy's wrappings, making them as stunning as the eyes it had come from. The mummy's mouth became defined again.
A flash of light, and all was still. The mummy was gently placed back on the spot it had lain in for years. There was no evidence anything had occurred, save for the small crack in the pyramid wall.
The mummy opened his eyes.
He gasped in a breath of air and looked around franticly. Dust filled his mouth and he coughed it back out, along with the coin that had rested between his teeth.
He blinked. He began to feel an emptiness that he couldn't quite place. Darkness engulfed him inside the casket. He didn't like it.
He began to move his arms. He groaned and put them back down. He found that it was a difficult thing to do and he didn't understand why. All he knew was that he wanted to get out of the darkness.
In truth, he hadn't moved since he had died, but he couldn't remember that. He couldn't remember anything about who or where he was. He didn't even remember that he was dead.
He began moving his arms again. He struggled against the constriction he felt binding his shoulders. He felt that there was something over him. He placed his hands against the lid. It felt cold under his fingers. He grunted as he pushed the stone lid away from the sarcophagus. It hit the floor and broke into two pieces. He let his arms drop again.
The mummy lay in the coffin, looking out into the tomb. Now he could see a little more. His eyes darted around. There was a little light in here, so it wasn't as horrible as before. Here, he finally realized what that emptiness was.
He could feel no heart beat.
He couldn't remember where he was. He didn't know this place. He didn't know anything. He tried to think, but it was hard to concentrate in here. It was too dark, too confined.
He began to get up. He grunted and twisted as he desperately tried to force his body to move. It was somewhat painful, but he knew he had to move. He had to.
He stopped for a minute to think. After a moment he started again. This time, however, he did it slowly. He started by moving his fingers, one at a time. After the first finger began to move without pain, he moved to the next, and so on.
Next, he began to flex his hands, making them into fists and then releasing them again. He moved to his wrists from there, followed by his elbows, then shoulders. As he came to his neck, he let his head roll to the right and then tried to roll it back. Then to the left.
His neck hurt a lot. The joints creaked as they loosened up, echoing throughout the pyramid. Or perhaps it was just echoing through the mummy's ears. It was hard to determine.
Next he tried his foot. He couldn't feel his toes, so he tried his ankles. He rolled them as best he could. Next, he began to bend his knees, little by little. He reached out his hands to grab his legs. He struggled against the crying muscles in his abdomen.
He stayed there for a while, holding his hands behind his bandaged thighs to bend his stomach. This was his first time sitting up since his awakening. It made his head hurt a little.
Finally, he felt like he could get up. He pushed himself up, testing his strength. It felt good. He jumped out of the casket and landed, going to his knees. He pushed himself up. His legs wobbled under his weight.
He looked around at his treasures and gold. He couldn't remember any of it. He couldn't even remember his own name.
That's when something shiny caught his eye.
He turned back toward his coffin. The sunbeam was reflecting directly off of a small plate. It had something written on it. He recognized that these were words, but he couldn't understand it much.
He stared at it for a long time. Part of this was familiar, more so than anything else. Something…
He shook his head. He would figure it out later. Right now he wanted to learn more about this place. He was getting his footing, and he hadn't moved in ages. He walked over to some gold coins that were scattered on the floor. He ran his hands through them. They were… valuable.
Behind them, there were jars. They had patterns on them… no… pictures. Pictures of creatures. Some stood on four legs. Some looked… like he used to… yes, he was one of those creatures.
He walked around the pyramid. He couldn't see too well in the dark, but there was enough light to guide him along the treasures lining the walls. There were statues, pots, coins, cloths, paintings, and many other things that the little mummy didn't remember. He knew that they were important, but couldn't remember why.
After a short while, he found himself back in front of the shining plate. He stared at it for an hour. Two. Three.
He focused on the familiar piece. He began to understand it. That symbol sounded…
"A…A...A…"
His voice had not been heard for many years. The sound of it brought back some memory… Symbols like this… these…
"…your name…" He recalled a voice saying. A… A woman's voice. No… His mothers! His mother's voice! He concentrated on the memory of her voice.
"…is your name…" He almost had it. He stared at the plaque. He listened to the voice.
"… safe, my son…always protect you." That was a different memory. A good one, but he couldn't remember the rest. And he never would.
He tried the other one again.
"…is your name…is your name…mu is your name…" He focused on the plaque.
"A… mu… Amumu…" He finally said. Yes, he thought, yes, that's it. That's it!
"Amumu… that's my name."
Intermission!
Hey guys! Wow… that was longer than I thought it would be. I can't believe it's almost over. Also, in case you were wondering, I put these little breaks in for two reasons: 1. I like this story and I kinda want to talk about it a little and 2. I'm not sure how to make the next transition other than…
We now return to the story…
Amumu looked at the crack in the wall. The thin line of light squeezed into the tomb. Amumu felt a deep longing to be out there. He wanted to leave this cold, dark place forever. He knew there was something beyond the wall.
He wanted, no, needed to be out there.
He pushed aside the ancient sculptures pots, breaking many of them. After all, what were they to him? He thought that it was possible that they meant something at one time, but he had no memory and, therefore, no attachment to them.
He continued to smash things in his way until he could get to the already cracked wall. He didn't know how he was going to do it, but he had to break it down. He started to push against it. No luck.
He stopped pushing and backed up. He studied the wall for a moment. Something about this felt familiar, but he didn't know why.
He wished he could just slip between the cracks. He wished he could pull them apart somehow. He wanted more than anything to get out of this place. He-
He gasped.
His right hand had begun to glow. He could feel something pulsing through it. He didn't know what it was or what it meant. He felt like… like this was a gift. He heard the voice again.
"… safe, my son…always protect you."
Was she… was she keeping him safe? Even now?
He looked down at his hand. It was still glowing. He felt like he was supposed to do something. Something he had always been destined to do. But he couldn't figure it out.
This felt powerful, he knew that much. But what was it for?
He pounded his hands on his forehead, trying to think. He was so frustrated. Why couldn't he remember? WHY?
Suddenly, a burst of energy overcame him. Amumu stomped his feet on the ground hard, sending the power he was feeling into the floor.
Amumu hadn't been ready for that. The power threw him off a little and caused him to stumble back a few steps. He stepped on one of the loose bandages around his ankles and fell back.
He stared back at the floor. There was a visible indent in the ground. He wasn't sure how he had done it. He looked at his hand again. The glow was a little dimmer, but was soon just as bright as before.
He looked from his hand to the wall and back. He had and idea…
He approached the wall and put his hand against it. He concentrated on being out of this place. He wished for it. He willed it to happen.
Nothing.
He tried to go back to feeling like he had before. He tried to remember what he was thinking when it happened.
Wait. He wasn't thinking at all. He had let his emotions take control. So he tried to get angry again. He put his hand on the wall and thought it through.
That voice… He remembered that voice. Who was that? It was defiantly his mother, he knew that, but who was she? Was she important? Did she love him?
Did he have a father too? He… he thought he did. Why? Why couldn't he remember his own family? He couldn't even remember if he had a father. He barely remembered who he was. The whole thing was just making him so angry with himself and he was still in this godforsaken place and…
He punched a hole through the wall. The light poured in, pushing the darkness back into the farthest corners of the room. The sun warmed his bandages. It felt amazing. For a brief moment, he felt… he felt…
"Free."
He took his first few steps out onto the sand. The scorching hot sand had no effect on his bandaged feet. He felt as though he had been waiting for this moment forever. His moment out in the desert.
But he was still alone.
He wasn't angry anymore. The sun had calmed his anger and had made him happy for a few minutes. But then…
The little mummy with no heartbeat, no memory, no family, and no friends dropped to his knees and wept into his bandages.
He cried through the day and night. Just cried. He just couldn't stop. By sunrise, his hands were cold and wet from his tears. He wiped his nose and looked up into the light.
His eyes widened, still dripping with tears. Something was calling him. He could feel it. Something was telling him to go into the desert. This feeling… he… he had felt it before. It was strong and it was calling to his very soul.
He knew he had to follow it.
He stood up, determined to wander the world to discover his past.
As he cried, he hugged himself and began to walk forward.
Author's note:
Well, there you have it. That is how Amumu, the sad mummy, returned to the land of the living. I thought about doing a short chapter about his experiences in the desert, but I think this is the best place to end it. You all know the rest. If you want, I'll write another story about that, just let me know. Hope you enjoyed it. Please review!
Kanagawa