Long ago, the Meji were Ancient Egypt's top worriers and the Pharaohs' personal bodyguards. They were bred to kill, to protect, and to destroy evil if it came too close to their leader. They were the best of the best and are, in myths, to have been the ones who lay down ancient evils, such as powerful mummies, to evil ancient gods who managed to wake from their forced slumber. They fell when Ancient egypt did, but their teachings were recorded in tombs of old Pharos, and in books. It is said that the tombs and books were to be magical, and only to appear to mortals when times were about to darken on mankind and monsters from the underworld awaken. This is when the New Magi will rise to vanquish evil... And, unfortunately, it has begun.
June 4th, 1916 Britain
"Prime Minister, I am sure of it."
There was a grunt and a old grumpy voice replied,"Sure of what again? You still haven't told us what happened. Specifically. I got a war I am fighting, Sir, and you being here is a privilege. If you can't specifically tell me what happened to my garrisons in that god forsaken spit of sand called Egypt, then I please ask you, before I find myself angry, to let yourself out of my office. If you do have something to share with me that could shed a sliver of light that happened there, please, enlighten me."
There was an awkward silence. A man in a travelers helmet, a thin buttoned up shirt, a heavy looking archeologist bag strapped to his back, dress pants, and dusty old shoes was standing in the middle of a fancy, and important looking room. It was the Prime Minister of Britain's office. It was more like a large meeting room, but it was, indeed, an office. The prime minister himself was unable to be seen. The fireplace on the far wall didn't shine that much light in this area of the room and all that was able to be seen of the man was his suit. On his desk was a world map with several tanks placed upon it like chess pieces. It was a war map. There were several in Europe, some in upper Africa, and several battle ships in the oceans. But the fact that all of upper Africa was being occupied by his troops except Egypt, was seriously noticeable. The man that looked like he was in his fifties shifted from foot to foot, looking anxious and nervous.
"Prime Minister," he began,"I have an idea on what happened, and fear that it will seem silly and superstitious, but, from what my research tells me, your troops were attacked and destroyed by a monster, or monsters that cannot be killed by guns, knives, or even bombs. They look like red lions with black fangs and silver manes. They are as large as elephants and as stealthy and sly as foxes. They are called Set Monster(s), monsters of the evil god Set, a General to Ra. Your soldiers, I think, woke them from a slumber in the sand dunes of Egypt. And if I am not mistaken, they show up just before something worse than themselves is going to appear, and-"
"Enough!" Barked the Prime Minister. "I know that you are an Ancient Egypt fanatic and loony, but you take things to far by suggesting that things like that exist in the REAL WORLD! I should have my guards take you down to the Mental Institution or executed by firing squad by blaming the disappearance of MY troops, who were fighting for their COUNTRY and families, on these myths."
"But, Sir! I have evidence! One of your soldiers was making a short film on how life was in the British Army in Egypt when the attack happened. I managed to find said film and preserve it, just for you. It may be slightly blurry and charred, but there is some video on what happened that remained unharmed." The man reached into his bag and pulled out a large case that, unmistakably, held a few several rolls of film, but when he opened it, only one role stood out, and it was the charred up and nearly destroyed one. The Prime Minister was silent for a moment.
"If you have evidence, Sir, please share it. I will have a man retrieve a projector and-"
"No need for that, Sir." Interrupted the archeologist. "I brought one of my own. Al-Marahai!" Announced to the Prime Minister and he beckoned forth someone from the shadows of the office. A boy, about the age of ten, was walking forward, carrying a film projector in his arms. He had extremely dark skin, brown eyes, and a black turban around his head. He was wearing dusty and old robes that seemed to be a little big for him.
"Hello, Prime Minister..." The boy had a thick accent and spoke like he was taught how to speak ONLY those words. He attempted to bow deeply, almost dropping the projector in the process then handed over the projector to the archeologist.
"Thank you, my boy." He gestured for him to back away as he started to get to work on the projector. "Do not be frightened by what you are going to see, unless you are planning on going to Egypt." After a few moments the man had set up the projector and the Prime Minister's guards had pulled down a projector screen so the images would shine onto it, and it looked an awful like a bed sheet. The projector flickered to life and the archeologist began to wined it, playing it forward. At first it was flashing an empty reel of film, but it wasn't long before the scene shifted. When the film began to play it had several burn holes, specks of sand, and light damage to them, but you could tell what was going on. A group of soldiers were drinking, laughing, and playing cards within a small tent, their guns slung against their backs. They were talking animatedly, no doubt trying to get into the view of the camera. Some were laughing and waving at the camera. It lasted like that for about five minutes until the scene changed and the soldiers were now on patrol around their camp.
They were riding in a wagon pulled by some camels, guns in their arms, and watching their surroundings. Some were still talking and laughing like they were having a good time, while some were shooting at some lizards as target practice. One soldier, who was playing around more than the rest, pulled off the pin of a grenade. Several of the soldiers instantly scooted away from him, especially the ones that tried to stop him from pulling the pin. They managed to get the soldier to throw the grenade as far as he could in front of them, and the driver of the wagon pulled the camels to a fast stop. Several soldiers ducked down and, in the distance, you could see the explosion of the grenade. The smoke and sand that was thrown up into the air remained there for a while, and after the explosion, the soldiers started yelling a little at the guy who threw the grenade, who was laughing, and even some of the ones that were yelling at him smiled at how childish and slightly funny how the other soldiers reacted to the sudden action.
The scene changed again when they were now entering their camp after the patrol. The wagon came to a halt and several Soldiers jumped off onto the sandy ground. Their camp looked to be located between two sand dunes that were so far apart, several soccer fields could have been placed in the area. A few buildings made of stone were scattered amongst the tents and looked to be REALLY old, but the soldiers were using them as lookout towers. A few soldiers remained within the cart, asleep after a long patrol. Some were about to douce water on them, as if anticipating their reactions when the wagon shook and a few tents crumpled inward. The ones that were asleep jumped up so fast that they almost fired their weapons randomly. All heads were turned in one direction, the opposite way the camera was facing. Obviously, that was an explosion. Several soldiers rushed by the wagon towards the area and some pointed that way, trying to urge the camera man into looking towards the explosion.
The camera scene shifted fast and, now, in the distance, the dust, sand, and smoke that was released into the air by the explosion had lifted extremely high. It was stronger than most explosions as well. The explosion had occurred on one of the sand dunes that the soldiers on film had patrolled on. The explosion was also, in the exact same spot as the grenade explosion. You could see the outlines of several soldiers approaching the site with guns at the ready. They saw nothing cause the explosion and they didn't hear any mortar strike. It must have been a malfunctioning mine or something, but they had laid no mines. The soldiers near the explosion site were looking for bomb remnants or shrapnel that could help them know what caused it, but that is when things got freaky. One of the soldiers that was close to the smoke and dust disappeared into it. Several soldiers immediately retreated a little and opened fire into the bomb site. Several of the soldiers watching from camp were trying to see what was going on, and some were preparing for a fight. When the smoke had started to clear, you could see a dark shape within it. It was HUGE! The soldiers kept firing on the creature, and the dark shape within the cloud seemed to move. A long thick, rope-like thing shot out of the cloud, wrapped around a soldier, then pulled him in, his gun falling to the sand where he was standing. The soldiers retreated some more, but it was futile. The dark shape in the thinning cloud emerged from it with so much speed the film almost didn't catch it. It pounced on three soldiers, crushing them instantly, then moved on to fifteen others, killing them with a swish of it's limbs.
The film then paused as the archeologist stopped winding the projector. "Okay, watch closely." He wound it backwards, and the film played backward until the dark shape was within the cloud and there it sat. The archeologist ordered something in arabic and the boy that had produced the projector for him rushed forward and took the position to control the projector which the archeologist left to head towards the screen. "Here," he said,"is the Set Monster." He drew an invisible circle around the dark shape inside the cloud. He then commanded something in arabic and the boy started to play the reel forward slowly so the actions of things on the screen were in slow motion. "THAT," exclaimed the archeologist while pointing at the long rope-like shape that darted out of the cloud to grab a soldier,"IS IT'S TAIL!" Then when the dark object sprung from the clouds in slow motion, you could see a blurry outline of the monster. "It has the shape of a cat, mostly a lion, and see the discoloration of the mane and body? The mane is white while the body is dark on the screen. It fits. And-"
"Get on with it, Mr. ," interrupted the Prime Minister.
The archeologist swallowed a little and nodded. He took control of the Projector once again and continued the film at a normal pace. Once the dark shape had finished off it's next victims, it stopped completely, so there was no blur, and it looked directly down at the camera. The film seemed to come to a halt, even though Mr. Moalan, the archeologist kept winding it and playing it forward. The room grew extremely hot and a few papers on the Prime Minister's desk caught aflame. He stumbled back in fear, and his guards patted it out. The Archeologist had stopped filming at the moment and the fire on the other side of the room grew white hot and you could actually hear a roar of an evil creature escaping the flames. After a few moments everything died down and a window had shot open while a sudden gust of cool wind seemed to purify the room. Everyone in the room was breathing heavily and were staring at one another.
The Prime Minister then got himself situated and said,"My, Moalan, you have some... compelling proof there. I do wish to watch more, but I think that is enough for today. I also know that you came here in need of funding for a dig down in Egypt."
"Indeed. That is the correct reason. I have found several sites that I need to make use with and excavate and investigate." He replied.
"Good because I will fund any project you are willing to undertake in Egypt. Anything useful will be brought to me, understand? I don't mean any pottery or things of that nature either. I mean weapons, new metals, and resources of that sort." Instructed the Prime Minister. "Now, let me return to my work, and I would prefer if you left the film with us in this room. This is to be above Top Secret and no one should know except for my private guards."
The archeologist nodded and answered,"Understood, Sir. When do you wish us to depart for Egypt?"
The Prime Minister laced his hands together and took a deep breath, his face still unable to be seen. "A week from now. I will also find the best diggers, linguists, and architects in the world to help you on your digs. I also have one site that I want you to dig at first, and probably the most important one. This is one of our Top Secrets and wish for only you and your team to understand this. THe site you will be going to is underneath Cairo. A sinkhole opened up a passage that lead into an underground city filled with old scrolls, several strange books, burial grounds, statues, gold, everything you would want to find in a dig. My men were in the middle of investigating it when they disappeared. No one knows where they went, but they had reappeared just after the attack and seem to have lost their minds. We are treating them secretly but they haven't recovered at all. I pray you heed caution before entering such a place, and good luck."
June 27th 1916, Cairo, Egypt.
"I am absolutely positive that is what it says Moalan. 'Those who do not have the strength of the Maji should not dare enter this chamber, for they will experience the full wrath of the evils the Maji must face...' This is a bad idea. I don't like the idea of doing this and it feels wrong. I have a feeling that this inscription is telling the truth. Those soldiers never saw what was going to happen. This is obviously booby trapped. I suggest we leave this place be." Said a worried voice that seemed to echo within these dark hallways. The archeologist that had been talking with the Prime Minister a few weeks ago, was now standing in front of a large archway that had several hieroglyphics carved into it. A woman with dark hair, carmel skin, and bright blue eyes wearing similar clothes as Moalan, was pointing up at the hieroglyphs, her face focused and worried at the same time. Behind her and the archeologist were two others. One was a man while the other was a woman. The woman looked extremely fit and looked like she had the stealth of a cat, as well as the power of a lion. She was extremely pale, blonde haired, and wore almost all leather clothes. She had green eyes and had a silver scimitar strapped to her waist.
She was watching the two in front while glancing at the man beside her. The man beside her had black hair, bright sky blue eyes, and extremely dark tanned skin. He looked like he was in his twenties. "Don't worry about it Izzy. We got the best tomb raiders behind us and they can lead us through easy." The woman and the man glanced at each other, a look of uneasiness flaring through them. Izzy, the girl talking to Moalan, looked back at them with distrust. "They aren't perfect. We were able to track them down fast enough and they are said to literally disappear. THat tells you something." Moalan shrugged and said,"Just follow me." He turned the lamp forward to shine light into the darkness ahead and began to walk forward. As they did, the entire group seemed to be holding their breath. As they entered, torches lit up without the need of lighting them, like they were lit by a trigger or trip wire, but there was none to be found. The room was a little large, seven statues of men dressed in old robes with scimitars out and ready to battle. They were in perfect condition too. The floor was covered in sand, but a few patches of bare stone could be seen. Their shadows flickered across the walls as the flames danced upon the tips of their torches as if beckoning them to their death. There were three statues on each side, every single one of them in a mid=battle stance. At the far end of the room was a large statue crouched over something VERY colorful. The statue was of a boy the age of either 17 or older. He had cat ears, and a tail. Instead of nails he had claws, and he was wearing a robe similar to the Maji. In this light, the kids eyes seemed to glint red as he seemed to protect what he was guarding.
Moalan smiled hugely and pointed, but none of them dared cross the first between the statues, and exclaimed,"That's Lio!" It is said he is the best Maji of them all. Magician of the highest marks and made a God by Horus himself. Bast and Lio, in unnoticed parts of mythology, are hinted to be lovers, but that has never been proven. Some doubt that they had even met. Also-" "Focus..." Muttered the other man within this group of four. The archaeologist nodded and said,"If there are traps in here, they are most likely set upon the thing Lio is guarding. I can barely make some of it out, but not much. We need to get a closer look." Without thinking his actions through, he stepped forward. The instant he did this, the two statues he crossed path with sprang forward, and sliced at the man. Luckily, the two tomb raiders had pulled him back, shoved Izzy behind them and blew the statues to dust with some custom made automatic rifles. After those were destroyed the tomb raiders looked back at Moalan and Izzy. "Let us take it from here." The woman said. The two both nodded in agreement and watched as the two tomb raiders walked forward fearlessly, destroying statues that came to life and tried to slay them. Once they had destroyed all of them except for Lio's statue, which was too big to be destroyed by bullets alone, they turned back and ushered the others forward, and they gladly came over. Lio's statue was probably only a few five feet from them, and it hadn't moved yet.
"Well... I guess that the ancient egyptians didn't count on any weapons made by man could get passed their magic..." The archeologist woman glanced at Moalan. "Magic? You can't be serious..." She murmured. Moalan ignored her and stepped forward, in front of the tomb raiders and strait up to Lio's statue. Just as he was close enough to touch the statue, red hieroglyphics appeared, searing hot, and floating within mid-air in front of the archeologists's face. Stopping in mid step he only had seconds to read the symbols, which he read aloud. "'Beware those who approach. I guard the ancient Book of The Great Maji. If you are not worthy of laying a hand on it, know that you will die a slow, painful death. This is the nature of the Book that not normal mortal's are allowed to look upon. Whoever is able to look into this book, read the ancient scripts, I shall look after, as though I was their protector.'"After the last words echoed along the hall, there was a cold air the burst from in front of them. Lio's statue glowed red and stood from his crouch and looked down upon the four of them. The tomb raiders raised their weapons out of fear while the Archeologist was staring in awe. Izzy was walking forward, passed the tomb raiders, and at Moalan's side, looking up in awe as well. Once the red glow around Lio's statue faded, the object he was guarding was clear to see, and it was, indeed, a book.
It was VERY thick, the perfect shade of blue, gold hieroglyphics were printed across the book... It was like a prized jewel that remained suspended in mid-air. That is when Moalan took it... The last thing that the four of them would know is that one of them were worthy of that book... Moalan, the archeologist, died the instant he touched the book. The causes are unknown. Juana, the girl dressed in leather, was killed by a swarm of scarabs. Mike, the other tomb raider, was killed by a dark figure chasing them out of the underground city, the Meji headquarters. Izzy... Well... No one knows if she died or not. Her body was never found, neither was the book, but that would change in the future... The book has a will of it's own. It finds the one that Truly deserves the book and has the ability to do so...
2012 August, 23. *9:54 PM*
"Man. I need to get a better job," grumbled a man just as threw some trash bags into the back of a large, grumbling, garbage truck. Another man throwing bags into the back of the truck with him glanced over and said,"Stop complaining. Without us, the world would be a filthy and disgusting place." The other man grunted and retorted,"It already is a filthy and disgusting place." The other just sighed and shook his head. Just as he was loading the last trash bag from pile stacked on the side of the opening of a col de sac, one of the trash bags burst open. But this wasn't the average trash bag breaking. There was hardly anything in it at all, and defiantly not enough weight to make it break. The air temperature dropped as well and a blue flash lit up the night sky. A few streetlights even changed color as it burst open. Some died instantly. The badgers jumped back in response to the phenomenon and looked at each other as ripped and shredded paper rained like snow from the sky since it had been shot up into the air. The red lights of the dump truck turned blue and the only thing laying on the ground was the only thing solid within the bag. A blue book laying opened, facing the ground. The asphalt around it had turned blue and was steaming, as if ice was around it, and the books pages were glowing. You could see the light coming from under the book. "What the ******** is that man?" Asked the already gummy garbageman. The other, still holding the destroyed remnants of the trash bag in his hands, shook his head, clearly dumbfounded.
"That, my friends, is something you definitely don't want to mess with." Said a voiced that seemed to echo through their heads. Both of the men looked around, completely freaked out. "Anyone there?" Called out the garbage man who was holding the remnants of the trash bag. His voice echoed a little in the cool night and throughout the large col de sac. It was silent for a few moments before an answer came. "Yes, someone is here. If we wish to live, though, turn around, get in the tuck, and drive from this place. I don't give second chances." The voice was that of a teen but there was a powerful edge to it, like he wasn't fooling around. The threat was real enough. The two men, without hesitation, turned and sprinted to the doors of the garbage truck, got it, and took off as fast as the large hunk of metal would allow. There was an eerie laugh and a dark figure walked out from the darkness, red eyes glinting and glowing through the night, with a long black robe on, black gloves, and thick boots on. Once in front of the book, he reached down and picked it up, causing the lights, iced ground, and temperature to return to normal. After picking up the book, the figure turned and looked back over to the last house of the circle. The closest to him.
"Now... Descendant of Isabella Grave. I have a special delivery..."
Dull. The walls, the floor... the lack of windows in the dusty place. Everything about the dimly lit room screamed boring. Cadence thought she might drift off into a hundred years' sleep like Rip Van Winkle if she stayed here too long. If only osmosis reading worked... Open one of the books, sleep on it... be a genius by the end of her nap. “Just find the volumes you need, and escape toward the sunshine.” She coached herself, tucking a stray lock of near ebony hair behind her ear – apparently, she'd missed a few strands when she'd thrown her mop up into a messy pony tail. Throwing a glance back over her shoulder, her blue eyes searched longingly at the library's rickety steps that had brought her down into the ill-used basement. It seemed ten thousand miles away at this point. Hopefully, her tour wouldn't leave her too far behind.
More importantly... hopefully no one would catch her here... because she was certain that by the thick layer of dust that blanketed nearly every surface, it wasn't a place for visitors like her. Students on a study abroad trip weren't meant to sneak into an area that very distinctly had been marked with an “employees only” sign. Though, obviously it'd not been too much of a deterrent when she sidled past the ancient librarian to catch a peek. Well, a little more than a peek. There might have been an intention to borrow a book indefinitely... but, no one really needed to know that.
But a source had told her she'd find the information she'd need in this particular library, specifically in the dingy, cobweb-infested cellar in Cairo. Not that he'd been so kind as to say what information or even which book to find it in. Really, searching the stacks of tomes here was comparable to looking for a needle in a haystack. Just... somehow worse. Whatever it was that he'd meant, Cadence hadn't known... but the whole endeavor had left her shaken enough to investigate just to see if anything caught her eye. Maybe she'd get lucky and it would jump out at her. “Right.” She bit out sarcastically, not at all perturbed by the idea that she was responding to her own thoughts, content to carry on a conversation with herself. “Because books make a habit of hopping about, pages flailing as it begs to be read.”
If only. Rolling blue orbs toward the ceiling, an exasperated sigh escaped her – the huff of air bursting forth with enough pressure that some of the dust swirled about the room. Bravely, Cadence set to pulling volumes off of the shelves, assuming that the book would have some distinguishable quality. She picked once brightly colored ones, to a few that didn't even have titles embossed on the spine. Each one she'd flip just a few pages, leafing through for anything to scream for her attention.
Easily, the girl lost track of time rummaging about the cellar... occasionally halting in her tracks if she saw an insect scurry across the room. Anthropology majors dealt with cultures... people. Not bugs. And they were enough to make her skin crawl.“If I were a crazy old coot, who was going to tell a tourist to search for a book, I'd mean... which one?” An index finger tapped rhythmically against her lips, toe tapping in unison as she tried to find the answer to her question. She was no closer to finding whatever it was she needed to find than she'd been an hour ago.
A part of her was forced to wonder if one of her colleagues had paid the man to set her up. Because this all seemed so ridiculous any way.
“What's next, 'eenie, meenie, miney, moe?'” A voice asked from behind her, teasing but still friendly. Cadence's heart nearly stopped any way. She'd not been paying near enough attention to her surroundings to realize someone else had sneaked down the steps.
The boy who had interrupted her train of thoughts grinned – the effect making the freckles over the bridge of his nose dance as he chuckled. In one hand, he held his sneakers; he'd been careful not to make a sound so that he could make it into the cellar undetected. The other remained free, and he combed his fingers through a mass of chestnut hair to push it out from his eyes. “I figured you'd still be here.” He shrugged, making it no clearer what his motive was in harassing his fellow student.
“Brendan, I swear... if you set me up for some little prank I'll-” Her temper flared, but only enough to show that she wouldn't find teasing in that nature at all funny.
He stopped her before she could continue, holding up his hand to silence her threats before she'd try and make good on them. “Cadie... I promise I wouldn't do that to you... and I asked around... Everyone thought that withered old man had been tripping on some LSD or something, because none of it really made sense.” Even he shivered when he thought about the encounter... how the tattooed hand had snatched up a handful of Cadence's T-shirt and pulled her toward him so that he could stare her directly in the eye, and tell her that trouble was brewing... and that she'd need to know about the history.
Which, had led her to the begrimed basement underneath Cairo's library. And subsequently, Brendan, if only to drag her back to her senses... make her realize that the guy was probably just demented from dehydration. No matter how serious he'd sounded. Or how much like a prophet from the ancient times he resembled.
Cadence shouldn't fall into the trap.
She sighed and dusted her hands off on her pants, giving the room one last look before she took a seat at the singular long table in the corner. “No, it didn't... But you know how sometimes, you can just feel the truth in what someone says?” That's how it felt for her. Her heart sped up, as though it had been trying to awaken a part of her that had laid dormant her whole life. Irrational? Definitely... however that did little to stop her from at least trying. “I don't know... maybe I'm just crazy... maybe he rubbed off on me in the short time that we had a conversation. The fact that he knew my name though...” Gooseflesh pocked her arms as she thought about it, and Cadence attempted to rub them away as she continued to think about yesterday.
The whole thing remained eery.
No matter how many times she turned it over in her head... she couldn't place it. “Obviously though, my adventure to the restricted part of the library has been fruitless.” If she was meant to find something here... it wasn't happening. Whatever it was... IF it existed... would need to find her. “And at this point, I'm just going to give it a rest, and attribute a wasted afternoon to someone paying an old man off to tell me to spend it here.” When she should have been out, visiting the pyramids, museums... writing her dissertation.
“You coming then?” He asked, raising an eyebrow as he motioned toward the exit.
Resigning to defeat, Cadence's head bobbed once in a nod. “Yes, just give me a few minutes?” Brendan seemed to understand that she needed to get her bearings together and smiled. “I'll be upstairs waiting.” The cellar, no matter if there was someone else there... gave off a creepy vibe to it. And he was all too happy to depart from it, leaving his peer with a mess of books. None of which, apparently wanted to talk.
Sighing, Cadence took one more quick glance around the room, ready to kick herself for being duped. “Whatever it was I was supposedly 'meant' to find, it's not happening.” She called out loud to no one in particular; it wasn't as though the man who'd sent her to the library could hear her. With that, she crept back up the stairs, careful to step in the places that weren't weak... attempting to make the least amount of noise possible, just in case the librarian's hearing aids decided to work again.
* *
Her trip to Egypt had left her skin kissed by the sun, the golden glow still prominent a week and a half later. The white comforters she was strewn across made a stark contrast to the neon colors of her clothes, and made her appear all that much darker. Slender legs swung in the air, crossed at the ankles as she flipped through a magazine – listening to her cousin's ramblings of everything she'd missed since she'd left for the semester. Danielle always saved the gossip for her, re-airing the small town's dirty secrets whenever she had the opportunity.
Having Cadence stay with her for a few days always provided ample reason to delve into the juiciest scandals of New Palestine. While Cadence didn't much care to hear most of it, she gave the proper “mmhmms” and “oh”s when they were needed, and that was all the encouragement Danielle required to prattle on.
Her cousin disappeared into the bathroom and her voice seemed more distant as the girl rummaged through her cabinets, searching for the long lost makeup bag. Cadence barely caught most of what was said, but didn't dare ask for another explanation, else Danielle would start from the beginning.
Something heavy fell next to her, on the bed with a small bounce, and the dark haired woman looked down, azure eyes scrutinizing the random object for but a few seconds before she sat up and folded her legs over one another to get a closer look. “What in the world?” She muttered, gingerly lifting the heavy volume and turning it over in her hands. It felt warm beneath her fingertips, thrumming like a low-decibel radio. And that was just the first thing she noticed about it.
The second, was how it seemed to sync to her heart beat, like it had its own, running parallel to the rhythmic booming in her chest. The third... was that it seemed to be made in the shape of a book, but there were no paper pages for her to thumb through. Instead, small engravings of pictures followed each other in very straight lines, and she recognized them immediately as hieroglyphs, specifically of the Egyptian variety. “From where did you come?” Cadence asked the book, as though she expected it to talk back to her.
Turning it over in her hands, she decided very quickly to stuff it into her overnight bag – fully planning on going through some of the marks on the front to translate them when no one else was around. Danielle would think her odd... and likely criticize the woman's love for anthropology – no matter how impractical the degree was to have.
Outside of museums, that sort of job didn't pay the bills.
* *
Long after her cousin had fallen asleep, Cadence tip-toed back to the dining room with the book in hand – slightly relieved that it had been where she left it – that she hadn't simply made the entire thing up in her mind in effort to escape stories of who's lips Johnny McCarty had been kissing last week.
She turned on the light over the table, and sank into one of the chairs as she frowned at the oddity of the item in front of her. Just... how had that come to be? And who'd stuck it right next to her, she didn't know... but her mind fell back to that old man... who told her she needed to see the cellar to get the information she needed.
After the whole afternoon had been wasted, Cadence had nearly forgotten about the experience... writing it off as the man's age playing tricks on his mind. But now...
Now she wasn't so sure.
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Epistemological boundaries in the continuum of my own mind.
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