Hamid Bay watched his six-year-old son sit down in the shade of a tent and watch the weapons practice with half an eye. And probably only half of his mind as well, Hamid thought sourly. His son had been plagued with dreams for the past year, and it was starting to worry his family and their tribe. They knew that young Ardeth would one day rule the tribe. The dreams were not a good thing, and Hamid knew that it could undermine his son's later position as chieftain of the Med-Jai. His dark eyes eagerly searched the sky for a sign of Osiris, his falcon messenger, before turning back to watch his son and his warriors.

He had sent a message to the Old One that resided in the Med-Jai camp along the Nile, where most of the women, children, and warriors resided when not watching over Hamunaptra, in hopes that she would grant he and his son an audience to get to the bottom of the disturbing dreams.

Ardeth watched the warriors practice their fighting skills and hoped one day to prove himself to be a worthy leader of their tribe. He tucked a long strand of his dark hair back behind his ear when the wind blew it into his face, obscuring his vision. Everyone looked up to the sky as the call of a falcon screeched out overhead. Ardeth watched as Osiris landed on his father's arm, and then both the bird and his father disappeared inside their tent. The warriors thought nothing of it and went back to their practice, but Ardeth had a strange feeling that the message Osiris brought back had to do with him. He picked himself up off of the ground and made himself look presentable before he entered his father's tent.

"Father?" he asked.

"Ardeth. Get ready to leave."

Ardeth looked at his father, surprised. Hamid looked into his son's light brown eyes and immediately felt sorry for the harsh tone of voice. "You will be coming back, Ardeth. I promise."

"Yes, Father."

The two-day trip back to the city along the Nile left both father and son dirty and tired. They hurriedly washed up in the river, and then dressed in their best clothes for their meeting with the Old One. As the two walked through the city, many people stopped to watch them pass by. Many girls, be they young or old, particularly watched Ardeth.

No one besides the warriors and a few women that lived in the camp had seen him for many months and they were mildly shocked at how much he had grown. Many remarked on how he didn't look like one parent or another, just a perfect combination of both. Ardeth had inherited his mother's lighter brown eyes as well as her full bottom lip, but the shoulder-length black hair that fell in soft curls was a legacy of his father's.

"Father, people are staring at us," he whispered. Hamid smiled down at Ardeth.

"They have not seen you in many months and you have grown since then."

Ardeth looked up. "Will we have time to visit Mother before we go?"

"We will see."

They stopped outside the Old One's dwelling as Hamid politely knocked. A woman in a flowing blue gown opened the door. When she saw who the visitors were, she bowed deeply to her chieftain and his son.

"Welcome. The Old One is expecting you," she said.

"Thank you, Fallah." They were shown to a back room where the Old One sat, contemplating a book. Hamid and Ardeth waited in respectful silence until she felt ready to acknowledge them.

"Salaam, Hamid, Ardeth."

"Salaam, Elder One," Hamid said. The Old One nodded once and both Hamid and Ardeth knelt on a soft carpet before her.

"Your message was brief Hamid. Perhaps you would tell me what is troubling you?"

Hamid looked quickly at Ardeth. "My son has been having dreams, almost visions, for a month now."

The Old One looked at Ardeth carefully, then nodded. "Hamid, if I may speak to your son alone for a moment?"

Hamid nodded and left quietly. Ardeth stayed perfectly still. "Do not worry, son of my daughter's son. Come up here and tell me your dreams."

Ardeth sat on a plush pillow near his grandmother and looked into her dark eyes. "When I dream, I see our city as it was in past times. I also see the City of the Dead in its past glory and how it is now. But it is different."

"How different?"

Ardeth bit his lower lip, trying to find the words. "It is like I am seeing it through a man's eyes, and not my own."

The Old One laid a hand gently on his. "Tell me about the City of the Dead, little one."

Ardeth drifted into a trance state. "I see a man going from the City towards Cairo. Another asks me if we should kill him. I-I can't kill him. I would be killing my own brother if I did so."

"You have no brothers, Ardeth."

"He is the brother of my spirit. I've known him before."

"Known him from where?"

"Here."

**The Past**

Sajarn reined his horse as they approached the Med-Jai camp along the Nile. He had guarded Hamunaptra and its secrets for many months now, and he was glad to be home. He saw his brother waiting for him by the horses and smiled.

"Brother! Welcome home." Djarnan called.

"It is good to *be* home, Brother."

Djarnan couldn't resist the teasing smile. "Are you so glad to be home that you will take a wife?"

Sajarn shot his older brother a look that had stopped many more men in their tracks. Djarnan shrugged. "Nefertiri worries about you."

Sajarn shook his head at the worries of his brother's wife.

**The Present**

Ardeth shook his head, sending his still damp curls around his face. "Old One, are these visions the work of the Creature?"

She shook her head. "No, little one. Do not worry about your dreams, for they will pass in time, but remember them always. Hamid, you may join us again. Hamid ducked back into the room and took a seat on the carpet. "There is nothing to fear, my grandson. Three ancient spirits have rejoined the living. Ardeth is one of them." The Old One's eyes glazed over. "The three will join together in the future, to fight the forces of darkness. Ardeth is the stranger traveling from the east, in search of what is lost. His brother is the stranger from the west, and *he* is the one that you seek."

Ardeth committed the words to memory, always remembering.

**The Future**

The attack was proceeding as planned. Ardeth mentally winced as he saw another one of his troops fall to the American's guns. As their leader, he felt personally responsible for each life he commanded. He urged his horse forward towards the fleeing Englishman, but was suddenly tackled and thrown out of the saddle. He drew his scimitar, but it was shot out of his hand. They were both distracted by the sound of another Med-Jai. The light brown haired man shot another one of his Med-Jai, but Ardeth drew his other scimitar and batted the gun out of his hand. He took another swing at the man's chest, but he ducked and rolled towards the fire. A lit stick of dynamite suddenly appeared in his hand.

Ardeth paused for a moment and looked the other man in the eye. The dreams he had when he was young suddenly came back to haunt him, because he suddenly knew that this man was his brother in spirit.

"Enough!" He repeated his order in Arabic for his men. "We will shed no more blood tonight. But you must leave. Leave this place or die," he warned. He swung up on his horse and ordered his men to move out. He took one last look at his brother, and then rode off into the night. Once away from the city, Ardeth closed his eyes and prayed that he, his men, and his brother would survive the coming encounter with the Creature.

"You were right, Wise One," he murmured to the sky. "You were right. Thank you, Great-Grandmother."

--The End