The tearing of a soul was far more destructive than he'd ever imagined.
The agony, radiating from the very core of his being, and the profound sense of fragmentation that followed—no emotion could mask it. The seven fragments did not settle into peaceful isolation as he'd hoped. Instead, rendered incomplete, they grew frantic, ravenous.
They became like seven deadly magnets, drawn inexorably to one another. Guided by some unseen force, they defied his design, flowing back to this very tomb—the origin point of the ritual.
The tomb's trials were never meant to keep grave robbers out.They weren't for outsiders at all.This was Ankh-Ka's reassembly cipher, left for himself.
He needed to find a complete soul, one that had walked his path and understood his life. That understanding would be the adhesive. Only then could the seven frenzied fragments be coaxed back into harmony. Made whole.
The shadow turned slowly, as if bearing the weight of infinite exhaustion. It pointed a flat, dark arm toward the pile of black basalt shards and ashen-grey bones in the corner."That," a thought echoed, "is the eighth jar. The Unity Jar."A pause, heavy with finality."And… the failed me."
The eighth jar was meant to be his vessel. His chrysalis. The final destination he'd prepared for his reborn soul, after all other pieces were in place.
But when those seven frenzied, contradictory soul fragments were forcibly poured into the Unity Jar… tragedy.
The vessel couldn't contain that torn, clashing, chaotic power.
It was like a glass vial filled with seven different boiling acids. It shattered instantly.
Ankh-Ka's primary consciousness was annihilated in that psychic explosion, reduced to the web of cracked, greyish bones. His original body, bereft of its soul and the ka that sustained it, crumbled swiftly into the ordinary, time-dried white bones scattered around the sarcophagus.
Only the shadow remained. Deliberately stripped away to act as a witness, its intangible, formless nature allowed it to survive. Weightless. Unbound. A wisp of undispersed smoke fused with the tomb's curse. The last lonely consciousness.
I believed, the shadow's thought echoed, tinged with something like relief, no soul would ever walk his path again. Understand his choices.
You have. That understanding… is the finest requiem he could receive.
The shadow's arm extended, pointing to the spot beneath the basalt debris. The dust there stirred, brushed aside by an unseen breath.
A dull bronze amulet lay there. Etched with a normal ankh symbol. It looked as if it had waited for millennia.
His one true relic. It carries the purest life-blessing of the old kingdom.
The shadow's thoughts turned soft. Almost coaxing. Warm.As thanks… take it. It lets the bearer feel the Nile's pulse. One never loses their way in the desert.
The shadow's posture was the picture of sincerity. A faithful servant, duty finally done, offering its most precious reward.
The grand, tragic story resonated with Bill. Gazing at the ancient amulet, his face showed a flicker of genuine emotion. Ankh-Ka had walked a dark path, but the courage… the tragic end… it commanded a grim respect.
And the loot-hungry, wannabe-legend Tomb Raider in him saw a prize. He stepped forward, hand reaching.
Douglas's arm shot out, barring his path.
"A fascinating story," Douglas said. His voice cut through the tomb's sacred silence like a cleaver."But you left something out."He looked up, his gaze a scalpel aimed at the writhing darkness."What does a failed Unity Jar need most now?"
The question was a poisoned needle. It punctured the tender mood of closure.
The two-dimensional shadow froze for a split second.
"A shattered vessel… a pile of soul fragments starving for energy…" Douglas began a slow circle around the black debris."They need a new core. To re-ignite the failed ritual."He stopped. Looked at the amulet in the dust. A cold, mocking smile touched his lips."Such a generous 'blessing.'""It doesn't let the bearer feel the Nile's pulse. It lets these fragments feel the bearer's pulse. Doesn't it?"
Bill's moment of sympathy iced over. His skin went tight. Cold sweat soaked his shirt. He remembered the touch of his wand to that shard—the greedy, soul-sucking void.
You… misunderstand, the shadow's thought was hurried, plaintive. A great ritual needs a conductor. The amulet is a medium, not a trap—
"Save it," Douglas cut in, his voice flat. "It's a life-force valve. Meant to drain the wearer. Make the next set of bones."
The shadow fell silent. Any attempt at linguistic polish crumbled before that cold, blunt dissection.
Douglas turned to Bill."This magic… tearing a soul, sealing fragments into objects to cheat death…"
Bill's eyes widened. As a curse-breaker, his knowledge ran deep."Herpo the Foul! A Horcrux!"
"Correct," Douglas nodded, his attention returning to the desperate shadow. "But Ankh-Ka took a wrong turn.""Herpo and his followers sought eternal division. Each fragment independent. Unkillable.""Ankh-Ka," Douglas shook his head, a hint of academic pity in his tone, "sought reassembly.""He naively thought a soul was a jigsaw puzzle. Scatter it, find the method, snap it back together.""He didn't understand.""A soul isn't an object. It's a law. Once torn, it can never be perfectly whole again.""He was challenging a rule older than death."A pause. A slight, conceding tilt of the head."Of course… one cannot deny he was a pioneer on that path. A great one."
The words stripped the shadow bare. No longer a mysterious, ancient soul burdened with loneliness. Just a pathetic schemer. Plan exposed.
I… just wanted to fulfill his wish!The silent cry came again, thick with resentment, poison, and bottomless despair.Trapped here for millennia! Watching batch after batch of intruders have their minds wiped by the Words of Forgetting! Turned to idiots or bones!Such fragile souls… they couldn't even nourish it.Since you are so wise… let your lives be the final fuel!
BOOM.
The entire tomb chamber shuddered.
Ancient hieroglyphs carved into the floor blazed with a vicious crimson light. Millennia of accumulated curse-power activated in an instant.
"A compound curse array!" Bill yelled, his professional instincts overriding fear. "The ceiling! Watch the—"
CRACK!
From the dome above, several bolts of black, solid-seeming curse-lightning lanced down. They reeked of death and corruption.
Anubis's Soul-Devouring Lightning. And it was aimed right at them.
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
Read up to (120+ ) advanced chapters on Patre\on
Visit us here:
patreon.com/GoldenLong
Happy reading, everyone!