The Lost Tomb of the Old Kingdom:Part Two

     The siblings didn't say a word. They were frozen in place, paralyzed. After a tense moment, one of them mustered the courage to speak up.

     “What—I…I mean, who…are you?” Arthur stammered.

     The figure just stared at him. Though the bandages concealed most of her face, he could see from small slits in the fabric that he was staring into two wild looking yellow eyes, leering at the Zafara from a distance.

     “How ignorant you must be to not know who you speak to, child!” the mummy’s voice seethed with anger, “I’ll have you know that I am Rehema! Daughter of King Amit, and rightful ruler of Sakhmet and all the empires of the sands! And you will do well to remember it!” she outstretched her arm, pointing directly at the trio.

     Clara leaned out of cover for a moment, “A—Amit?” she whispered.

     Rehema’s eyes fell upon her bandaged arm, “Oh…of course, I forgot. I must be a complete stranger in this new look. How foolish of me.” She stepped out of the sarcophagus. At the ends of her hands were loose straps of fabric. Through careful coordination of her hands and arms, she unfolded them, revealing a pair of hoofed hands. Once her hands were free, she went to work undoing the bindings around her face, revealing strands of long dark hair, light tan fur, long pointed ears and a pair of small horns.

     Clara’s eyes squinted as she took a closer look at the mummified desert Ixi. To her surprise, as well as that of her brothers, Rehema, instead of being old and withered, was rather young and beautiful. Not quite what they were expecting from a very ancient mummy.

     “Um…if I may?” Clara questioned, raising a hand, “you said you were the daughter of Amit, right? Forgive me, but I thought King Amit only had a son, Tenemun?”

     Rehema locked eyes with the blue Acara, a slight look of confusion shaped her expression, then she jerked her head back, letting out a coarse laugh, “My father, with just my foolish little brother as his only child? Is that so? Have the people of Sakhmet stooped so low that they don’t even care to properly educate their children?”

     “We’re not from mmpph—!” Clara was cut off as Parlebb clasped a hand over her mouth.

     “Enlighten us, then.” Arthur retorted, taking a step forward.

     Rehema fixed her eyes on the red Zafara, “As you wish. Now, where do I begin? Ah, yes. How about from the very beginning?” she took a moment to clear her throat, “know first, that I am the firstborn of King Amit, a mighty ruler of Sakhmet. The people revered him as a benevolent and wise ruler. But I knew, more than anyone else, that he had his moments of weakness, he was too stubborn and cowardly, forgoing expanding our kingdom through military might for enlightened trade and reducing our army to a mere ‘defensive force’, all when he knew full well that the Lost Desert was a scattered, broken world where every empire fought for dominion of the land. From a young age I dedicated myself to taking on the royal duties of our household, learning and mastering the ways of the royal family. I took great pride in being the eldest and poised to become next in line. How I longed for it, to take the throne! It would be my turn to lead Sakhmet into a glorious age under my name!

     And soon enough, my chance had come at last. My father had come down with an unknown illness and he was considered too weak to rule as his health was declining. As was tradition, the eldest child would be crowned shortly after the King’s death. But with his last dying words, he handed the scepter not to me, but to my younger brother, Tenemun, to rule as king,” she scoffed, “of course, hand the throne over to my foolish little brother, rather than his firstborn. Wise and benevolent king indeed. My brother was barely even at the age where he could learn to read and write fluently. What good could he possibly do sitting on that throne when it could be handed over to someone with more competence? No, one who had a vision, who would crush all our enemies and those who dared oppose me through the sheer force of our armies! Instead he would have a young child installed as king, to pass on his pacifist vision for his ‘enlightened age’, nothing but an imprudent vanity project! How this angered me, how envious I had become! But it mattered little, as I took the throne for myself, before my brother could have his say. All it took was a little convincing on my part. I kept him away by sending him off on diplomatic missions to other faraway lands, while I focused on stepping up Sakhmet’s military might…”

     As Rehema rambled on, Clara leaned over Parlebb’s shoulder, “Guys, I don’t know about this.” she said, whispering into her brother's ear.

     “Another one of your hunches?” Parlebb muttered, being careful to move his mouth as little as possible.

     “What is it, Clara?” Arthur muttered, keeping his focus on the desert Ixi while talking through gritted teeth.

     “I can’t quite pinpoint whether she’s telling the truth or not, but her story’s not adding up. The texts only mention King Amit and his son Tenemun, both of whom were considered wise and benevolent leaders of Sakhmet’s Old Kingdom. But if she’s the daughter of the King as she claims to be, why isn’t she mentioned anywhere? A bit odd to leave her out of Sahkmet’s history books isn’t it?”

     Parlebb shrugged.

     “Yeah, that is strange now that you mention it.” Arthur said.

          Rehema continued to tell her story, “…and I found out soon that there were other ways to conquer worlds besides military prowess while I could solidify my power as queen. I had taken an interest in the ancient and mystical magic arts, passed down by our ancestors and theirs before them. It was then that I dedicated my life to learning as much as I could about this particular form of magic, to study, practice and see how I could control them, manipulate and bend them all to my will…”

     Clara was lost in thought for a moment, then her eyes widened at a realization, “Unless, maybe…she was erased from history?”

     “Erased?” Arthur asked.

     “Yeah, as in, literally. The desecrated tomb, the broken sarcophagus, the shattered and faded hieroglyphs on the wall, it's all starting to make sense now! They must have removed all records of her that they could find, from scroll to hieroglyph and made sure to bury her so far away from Sakhmet! That’s why I’ve never heard of her, or why anyone else hasn't for that matter. Besides that, shouldn’t she be, like, hundreds of years old by now? Why is she so young and not really, really old looking?” Clara said.

     “You got me on that one.” Arthur replied.

     “I see you talking over there!” Rehema raised her voice, glaring at the blue Acara, “don’t you know it’s rude to be speaking over your queen?”

     Clara recoiled, “I…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disrespect—” she said brusquely.

     Rehema's tone didn't change, “You will do well to hold your tongue in the presence of her royal majesty!”

     Arthur took a step forward, standing in front of his siblings, “Look, you’ve told us your story, but how did you end up here?” he said, trying to sound as in control as he could.

     “It’s simple. Like all others in positions of power, I was not so willing to relinquish it, even when my time had come. Alas, immortality was an impossibility, as no magic in the world could make anyone or anything truly immortal and I knew full well. But that didn’t stop me. All I needed was to delve deeper into the secrets of the mystic arts and soon enough, I found a way to ensure that no matter what happened to me, I would make my return to this world. They will once again see the true strength of the Seeral River and all will see the splendor of the sun's face when I am reinstated as queen of the Lost Desert! And now, after having lay dormant for so long, you three have come to wake me from my slumber, and you are going to help me in my return.”

     The siblings exchanged looks for a moment, then back to the Ixi, “You’re telling us to let you out of here so you can just barge into Sakhmet, force Queen Amira to step down and have you take her place as ruler, and on top of that, expect over three hundred thousand people to bow down to some random Ixi with no legitimate claim to the throne other than your word?” Arthur said.

     “No claim?” Rehema laughed, “still as ignorant as before I see. I would be insulted, but you have not the slightest idea who you speak to. No, it’s not the claim I need, but rather, the support of Sakhmet’s people and the nobles and I have more than just my word on my side. And I wasn’t asking for your help. You wouldn’t be so foolish as to disobey a direct order from a queen, would you?”

     “No, we don’t trust you! How about you tell us who you really are?” Arthur took another step forward.

     Rehema laughed again, “Such defiance! It seems they don’t even keep their children in line anymore either. I suppose that will be the first thing I change when I take the throne once more. Truth be told, I was hoping I’d find someone other than a pair of children to start, but you will do for now.”

     The fur on the back of Clara’s neck rose; quickly she grasped Parlebb’s shoulder. He just glanced as she took cover behind her big brother.

     Arthur glared. He drew his sword and raised his wooden shield and Parlebb drew both his katanas from their scabbards. The brothers stood at the ready, side by side.

     “Bring it!”

     Rehema took one look at the trio. A wry grin stretched her face, “Quite the resolve indeed. I imagine you would make such fine soldiers, if you weren’t so insubordinate.”

     Neither Arthur nor Parlebb said a word; their eyes were fixed on the desert Ixi before them, blades gleaming in the light brought by the arcane torch hovering above.

     “Let’s fix that, shall we?” She closed her eyes for a moment, cleared her throat, then opened them again; a sudden gleam radiated in her eyes, focused on her targets, “your queen has invited you to her coronation. Would you question my rule as the Lost Desert’s one true ruler?”

     Arthur and Parlebb gasped, they trembled as if a cold spell ran down their spine, their eyes dilated, ears twitched and their minds went numb.

     “We are honored to accept her invitation.” Arthur and Parlebb uttered in perfect unison, their tones stoic and mechanical.

     Clara glanced at both of her brothers, her mouth agape, the shock forcing a gasp out of her. She looked towards the desert Ixi, whose grin had now shaped into a wide grimace.

     “What have you done to them?!” she exclaimed, terror rising in her voice.

     “Quite the charm isn’t it?” Rehema said, “come now, did you really think I took control of all of Sakhmet just by inheriting the throne? There are other ways to seize absolute power and influence. You could say this is one of the more effective methods, wouldn’t you agree? Such a shame it’ll never work on you, little runt,” she ran a finger across her neck, twirling her colorful jeweled necklace, “but I suppose that won’t be too much of a problem for long,” she then raised her other hand, pointing directly at the Acara in her sights, “kindly dispose of this little nuisance, would you?”

     “Yes, my queen.” Arthur and Parlebb said once more in unison, turning to face Clara. They approached their little sister, swords held firmly in front of them, shuffling towards her in a trance.

     “A—Arthur! Parlebb! Wh—what are you doing?!” Clara protested, backing away from them.

     Clara shuddered. She came to a sudden stop. She turned her head to the side; she was now backed up against the wall. Her brothers were coming ever closer with each step. She could see her own terrified reflection in the steel of the blades heading right towards her.

To be continued…