Someday, I will own something of great value. This will not be Yu-Gi-Oh, as it belongs to Konami, or something.

Waiting

Sometimes, I wonder why I bothered opting for immortality.

I mean, it's been four thousand years since my mortal body was preserved, lying deep in the desert sands, turned to dust itself.

And I was born a thousand years after the Pharaoh's death.

Maybe he's just given up.

Maybe I'll be stuck, on the chest of this sarcophagus, accompanied by four dismally boring items for the rest of eternity.

Even the Pharaoh's puzzle hasn't shifted since the birth of the Christian god, two millennia ago. And that was barely a shudder.

I wish I hadn't listened to the brethren...

"A time will come, far, far in the future, farther than we can imagine. The reign of Pharaohs, kings, self-styled divine rulers of all kinds will end. The world will be free, the people their own beings, and it will be good. And, one of our kings, one of those believed to be gods, will be awoken, and will try to make the world a slave again. Our cause, and it is a great one, is to prevent this. Our purpose is to keep the world free..."

Oh, yes, they were wonderfully persuasive. Young and foolish, and down on my luck, though full of talent, I thought I had found a reason for my existence.

I had been a tombrobber.

The best in Upper Egypt.

That is, until I got caught. My wrist was branded with my first mark of a thief, and I was cast into the desert, to survive among my kin.

Cutthroats, thieves... and very, very few of them had any sense of honor or mercy. I had gathered together the best I could find, had organized my own band, and we were notorious along the Nile. Unfortunately, I was notorious in the underground as well.

By sixteen, I had already had four different attempts on my life, none of which came very close to succeeding. Partially, this was because of my reputation. If I, the golden boy of the thieves' guild, was harmed in any way, it would be terrible to pay the blood price from my band.

However, now that I had been caught... I could just scratch that invulnerability. I had been marked as weak, foolish, easy enough prey for the royal guard to catch.

Not a good situation.

I did manage to steal a water skin, and some flatbread from a camp. Stupid from dehydration, however, I left my tracks clear as day across the sentry line. I barely got out alive.

You can have no idea how demeaning those next few weeks were. I had been the elite, a prince in my own right, respected and admired. Now, I did nothing but filch scraps and rags, creeping like a rat through other robbers' little kingdoms.

Until I met the brethren.

I had just slipped into another camp, having remastered the art of moving in shadows, like a shadow myself, leaving no tracks to be seen, when much to my surprise, I was hailed. Since that first night, I had not been seen, not the ripple of my cloak, not the moon shining in my silver hair... and now, someone was talking to me as if I had just walked right into the mess tent at midday.

"You are late."

Normally, I would have pulled a dagger, and been away before the first drop of lifeblood stained the sand. But the sheer strangeness and audacity of the statement made me pause. And when I turned, I saw a round, cheerful looking fellow not ten feet away, with curling brown hair and eyes that looked to belong on an innocent two year old. Not someone who should have been able to see me, much less get that close to me. "What do you want?"

"I said, you are late. If you wish for something better than dog scraps for a meal, come join our fire."

"Do you honestly think I'm that naïve? To walk alone into a camp full of unknown travelers armed with Ra knows what?"

To my utter disgust, he laughed. "If we wanted you dead, I could have killed you instead of opening my mouth. Come, have something to eat."

He had a point.

And, I hadn't eaten a decent meal for at least a month.

So, I came to eat at the fire of a group that simply was called the brethren of life. There were every imaginable type of human there, from the normal, scarred vagabonds and assassins you would expect in the desert, to escaped slaves, priests, a handful of people dressed far to well to be anything but nobility, people with skin black as night sky, and those the color of rich cream. And, Ra strike me if I lie, women.

Women who wore whatever clothing they wished, and carried blades, staffs, and wands as easily as the men they sat beside. Never before had I seen such a dense number of free women in one place. In my band of thirty, I'd had two, and they had to fight among the men to be treated as equals.

And they talked.

They talked of freedom, of rights, of a time in the future where everyone could be equal. Their seers had foreseen it, praying priests confirmed it... the slaves believed it with every scrap of their scarred souls. I didn't let myself be swayed that night, or so I thought. I just allowed myself to stay for one more good meal before I left for the desert night again.

Three full moons later, I was a full member. I had always believed that the rule of the Pharaohs were too restrictive, hence my occupation. Now, I found a group that lived as I did, not because they couldn't do anything else, but because they believed the same. So I listened. And learned.

They taught me to read the pictographs written on the temples, the ones I hadn't puzzled out from my years spent in the tombs. And I learned to speak the strange languages of the pale-skinned travelers from far north, and the brush-written language of the Easterlings, and the many, many varieties spoken by the night-dark people.

I learned of the gods, of the many, many disused deities of my people, the nature spirits, the peaceful, perfection seeking monk of the East, trifold mother of the north... there were a very many of them.

And then, there was the thousand-years-forgotten art of Shadow Games. One of the priests, who had served in the darkest of the tombs, had come across a chamber, sealed with stone and curse. This was what I was needed for, what they thought I was late for. I knew how to get into any tomb, to bypass nearly any curse.

It took me, the priest, and three different monks to break through the curse. Someone really didn't want us in there.

Too bad.

The chamber rose far over our heads, farther than should have been possible. The walls were covered in stories and pictures of battles, fought between priests and strange beasts. At the far end, was a tablet that rose high above our heads, and the hall was flanked with tablets engraved with the pictures of the same creatures in the stories on the walls.

Three years later, we had truly mastered the art of the Shadow Games. It was the eve of my nineteenth Nile Flood, and I was celebrating with the rest of my age group our ascention into adulthood. I was just starting to convince a rather lovely archer with pale gold hair to go for a little walk when the priest who had discovered the Games took me aside.

I wish now that I had just gone for the walk.

He had discovered a last panel in the tomb. And it finally explained the strange staff and necklace worn by the Pharaoh and High Priest on the master tablet. They were two of a set of seven, called Millennium Items. These items, along with three monster tablets not kept in the main chamber, were guarded by a certain family, sworn to protect the Pharaoh's legacy. And then he told me that the spirit of the Pharaoh was sealed in his item, a deceptively simple pyramid puzzle, to be revived when the world needed his iron fist again.

My job was to find those items. And take one.

I really wish I'd gone for the walk.

But no, I packed up that night and left for the nearest city to the tombs, to ask around. Weeks later, I was out walking the streets, and saw someone I didn't recognize. Now, for me, three weeks in a city is enough to at least see the faces of people, if not know their lives. So, I followed this person. He was wearing a simple white robe and turban, and made no effort to hide his tracks. Once we got outside the city walls, however, my vision blurred slightly, as if my eyes wanted to pull away from him.

It was one of the easiest mastered Shadow tricks. I'd found them. Once I knew what was going on, it was child's play to see through the glamour, and follow him. He led me down into a ruined city, hidden surprisingly well in a pile of rocks, and went through a door.

Normally, I raid at night. I'm most at home then, and can slip into the shadows. In this case, my target was quite as nocturnal as I. I would wait for midday.

It came, clear and bright as any Egyptian day. I gathered wisps of my own Shadow spell around me, to encourage sleep and peace, and I marveled at how much easier it seemed here.

I crept past the man I'd seen earlier, sleeping peacefully with one arm around what must be his wife and newborn babe. There was an older child in the next room, but no items to be seen. Since the house was not much bigger than those rooms, I was starting to get a little frustrated. Finally, I decided to sit down in the middle of the small kitchen, and risk a scrying spell. I sent out as low a frequency of Shadow Magic as possible, knowing these people would be sensitive to it. Immediately, I felt a sealed door, next to the chimney.

A simple push of my magic opened the portal, and I saw a sarcophagus, inlaid with five glistening gold Items. I knew I wanted the Rod. It was the opposing Item to the Pharaoh's puzzle, the logical one for the brethren of life to use.

Unfortunately, it wasn't there. Neither was the necklace, its empty slot laced above the Puzzle and Ring. So, I took my time, looking over them. The Eye, for seeing thoughts, among other things. The Scales, for containing and balancing raw power, the Key, for working through or creating any spell, any lock, any protection ever invented. I knew the Puzzle would shatter when removed from its slot, and its powers weren't for my use anyway. I'd become what we were trying to prevent.

My fingers were just sliding up to the Ring, when I heard footsteps behind me. I whirled, automatically sliding the Ring inside my sleeve to see the man standing there, Rod pointed directly at my head. There was Shadow Magic starting to gather at the tip, and I didn't even think for a second. I threw my hand up, creating a shield.

To my great surprise, it didn't dissipate with the blast. It didn't even reflect it. It completely absorbed it, not even rippling. Excellent. I gestured, and a spell-binding circle wove into existence, trapping his arms to his sides. Elated, I left, and summoned a niwatori to cross to the brethren.

For a long six months, we fought and won battles against the monarchy. We got overconfident.

One night, our entire camp was besieged by Shadow monsters, from the air, ground, even the oasis beside us. We fought, for a while, but it soon became obvious that we were up against at least two other Items, with well-trained wielders. And then, that same man, the guardian of the items appeared. Just appeared, right in front me. He said, "Deliver the Millennium Ring, and we will allow the rest of you to go free."

And it was suddenly quiet. The monsters withdrew, just enough to see the decimation of our group. Our Shadow monsters were flicking in and out of existence, and there were far, far to many bodies lying still on the ground. We had never dueled to kill before, and it was obvious who was on the losing side.

The senior members of the brethren, which was basically everyone left alive and with a soul, drew without a sound to me. The Ring, which I was eternally grateful had been under my robes, shimmered into view. "They want it," I said.

"We can't just give it up to them..."

"We've risked so much..."

"Lost so much...

"And we'll lose everything we have left if we don't!" I snarled, cutting through the tired protests.

"There might be one thing we can do..." said the priest. Funny, he was the one who sealed my fate, and yet I cannot remember his name. And full of righteous anger, frustration, and desperation, we agreed to do that which had been done once before. By a full circle of fully trained priests, with all the items to back them up, of course. They sealed my soul into the Ring.

The Pharaoh got to sleep until his time arrived. We didn't do so good a job. And so, four millennia later, I'm waiting here, waiting for something, anything to happen, to wake the Pharaoh, to find the chamber, to start Armageddon, anything.

And then, I sense movement, scratching in the catacombs around me.

Author's Note: It's my first time writing anything other than a Harry Potter fic. It'll get better in the later chapters, of course, now that most of the background is out of the way.