The sirens outside blared, silent witnesses to the chaos that went on within the walls of the small house with the shattered windows and downed trees. From within came the questioning voices of the officers, investigating the death of the man within. The investigators brought their dogs and their detectors and searched, but they found no clue as to what happened.
"...and then there was this sudden flash of golden light that knocked off the power in my car!" Explained a woman being questioned about what happened.
"Interesting..." The sheriff said, scribbling notes down as he spoke.
"Sir," Came a voice from behind him. He turned to the other officer who walked over with a nauseous look on his face. "You'd better come see this."
Nodding to the woman he'd been speaking to the officer followed his comrade through the open door and into the house. He noticed immediately the stench of the place, which smelled like smoldering rubber and burning acid. He saw that the walls were scorched, and the paint was peeled off in little overlapping curls, as if it had been scrapped. The furniture was burnt and signed, and one chair in the corner still burned with a radiant vibrancy that went beyond what any normal fire could muster. But the truly strange thing, was the still smoldering pile of ashes at his feet.
Leaning down to get a better look at what was left of the victim, a horrible smell smacked him in the face and shot upwards, coughing and sputtering.
"What the heck is that?" He asked, swatting the foul smelling air away.
"I don't know, Sir." The other man replied, looking at his superior.
Examining the remains closely, the sheriff realized only one possible thing could have happened; spontaneous combustion. That was all it could be. "Is this why you called me, deputy?"
"No, Sir. I called you because of...this." Upon finishing his sentence, deputy gestured to a small, handheld machine another man held.
Looking down at it, the sheriff saw it was in fact a Geiger counter, the device he and his men used to detect radiation. And the needle was in the red. For a moment they just stood there, both pondering what could have possibly caused such high levels of radiation? Then they realized; they were in a room full of radiation. D
"Deputy, get the boys out of here as quickly as possible! No one is to touch anything!"
"Yes Sir!"
With one final, contemplating look at what was left of the victim, the sheriff turned, and quickly scrambled away, closing the door as he did so. He and his men were rushed to the hospital, leaving the evidence behind.
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"Jedediah?" Octavius asked, looking through the dim light at his friend, who lay still at the other end of the table, under the protection of a small jar. He looked with a mixture of annoyance and worry up at Larry. "Why must I stay away?"
"Because he's poisoned," The night guard explained, a serious look in his eyes.
"But how could he be poisoned!" Octavius exclaimed, angry with the night guard for refusing him access to his friend.
The night guard shrugged. "That's what Ahk said," He stated. Looking down at the sad little Roman, he was overwhelmed by a horrible sense of guilt, and he sighed before continuing. "Look, Octavius," He began, carefully picking him up and holding him gently in his hands. "He has had direct magical contact with the Tablet. From what Ahk told me, that means his body is being overrun by its magic."
"Is that not a good thing?" Octavius asked, frowning. "Does the tablet not heal?"
"It does, but-"
"But too much of its magic can overwhelm the body and destroy it." Came Ahkmenrah's voice from the doorway. The pharaoh, upset with himself about what his tablet had done, had returned from his thinking stroll and stood watching the night guard and the Roman, his eyes cold and angry. "The Tablet's magic is good, yes, but too much of it can cause problems. Think of it as electricity. Electricity is energy, which already is present within one's body, and is what fuels one's heart. Just as the Tablet's magic is within you and drives your heart to beat and you to live. But you were to get an electric shock, it could potentially overrun your heart, ultimately leading to a heart attack and then...well, you know."
"But, it is not electricity. Is the magic."
"That I know. Like electricity, too much in the body in a sudden jolt can stop the heart cold." Ahkmenrah explained, coming to sit in the desk chair.
"But he was not overdosed with the Tablet's magic," Octavius argued, confusion etched onto his face. "Was he?"
"Well no, but the spell we...I, used on him, is stronger than I thought it was, and was meant to protect from the sun. But it also apparently tried to protect him from all light, artificial and natural. In doing so, the Tablet tried to make the spell stronger, to such ends that Jedediah's body can not, and will not, be able to cope."
"What exactly are you saying?" Octavius asked, his eyes fearful though he tried to remain calm. "What do you mean 'will not'?" He said, his voice almost breaking.
The two normal sized men exchanged a glance.
"I mean, Octavius, Jedediah is not going to survive this." Ahkmenrah whispered, his voice sad and his eyes full of a fierce rage. "And there's nothing I can do."
"Wh-what...?" Octavius stammered, the pharaoh's words sinking in. He fought to keep down the sudden despairing distress that rose within him and speak with a stable voice, which came out as merely a shaky squeak.
Larry nodded slowly, his eyes closed and shoulders trembling slightly. "I'm sorry, Octavius."
"B-but...but the Tablet it-it heals!"
"It does, yes," Ahkmenrah said, a sigh escaping his lips. "And it believes it is healing by killing the light."
"But you can control it!" Octavius exclaimed, desperate for something, anything, to have even the slightest possibility of changing what was to happen.
"Yes I-I can but...the Tablet sort of has its own mind...its own consciousness, if you will. I can control it, but once it is set on something it is impossible to stop it."
"No..." The Roman whispered. "The-there must be some way. A spell to cancel it out? Exposure to darkness? Wh-what about...about an incantation? An herb? Anything?"
Ahkmenrah shook his head sadly, and had to turn away, unable to look at the pained desperation on the Roman's face.
"So...nothing will...will work..."
"I'm afraid not," Ahkmenrah whispered, staring out the office window as the sun rose just outside. "His hours are numbered."