The Great Yellow has always been one of the harshest places on Earth, but as the men trekked across its sands, the brutality of the desert was once again cemented in their minds. Even their thick robes and turbans, designed for such a region, couldn’t completely protect them from the rays of the Sun which, in better conditions, gave life to the creatures of the Third Planet. In this climate, however, it seemed more like a malevolent god of ultraviolet death looming overhead, slowly destroying them. Only their leader seemed unfazed by the environment he was leading the desert-men through. His bright, unstained chrome helmet and steel runed gauntlet seemed out of place among the sand-torn robes that his companions wore, and even from his own dissimilar grey cloak, which was covered with various patterns of triangles and alien runes. Even though it was just as worn and ragged as the garb of the men around him, it marked him definitively as an outsider.
The equipment they carried wore heavy on the desert-men’s backs, and dehydration had already begun to take its toll on them. Just as they thought they could not bear the journey any longer, the leader stopped. The weary men breathed a silent prayer of thanks to the Higher Beings, loosed the straps on their bags to rest their legs, and drank from their canteens. The leader scanned the area, his unseen eyes, hidden by the one-way visor covering the front of his helmet, surveyed the land before them. Once satisfied, he motioned for them to stand up again. His voice crackling through speakers inside of the mechanical helmet was the only thing that gave the desert-men any indication that their leader was actually human. “This is the place.”
The men turned their focus from their much-needed canteen break and looked around them. The place they found themselves in now seemed no different than the miles of desert they had just crossed. Only a few rock outcroppings broke up the endless desert that stood before them. “Well?! What did we walk all this way out into the Yellow for, Sorcerer?!” one of the disgruntled men snapped. The leader didn’t respond. As the men grumbled among themselves, the leader slowly raised his gloved hand in front of him.
The men communicated their complaints to each other, until they were instead distracted by the humming of a distant, ethereal song that, although it sounded as if the origin was a long distance away, seemed to come from the sand itself. A great wind suddenly came from behind the group and whipped the sand around them, threatening to tear the meat off their bones. This sandstorm was more violent than any the desert-men had ever seen before, but every grain of sand seemed to curve around them, as if some unseen giant was unwilling to crush them with its awe-inducing strength. They shouted to each other, each man desperately hoping that his comrades would know what was going on, but each of them confirmed to another that this phenomena was completely unlike anything any of them had ever experienced. That distant song they heard before the storm arrived had risen exponentially in volume, nearly drowning out the deafening noise of the sandstorm around them until, finally, it all began to die down. At last, the storm subsided.
The leader lowered his arms, content with his work. Now before him, where nothing but sand and a few rocks had once been, a sprawling valley dotted with several artificial structures carved into the sides of the rock now appeared out of the landscape before the desert-men and the sorcerer. “The Valley of the Kings…” one of the men breathed in awe. The desert-men let out similar mutterings, their whispers slowly helping them to comprehend that this place they had always considered to be a myth had just revealed itself before their eyes.
As they looked upon the ancient Valley, the desert-men’s minds were filled with tales of riches within the tombs inside it. They congratulated each other heartily, but before they could discuss at length how they would split their share of the treasure, the leader’s voice grounded them in reality. “Grave robbers have had millenia to pilfer these tombs of any precious items they may have once contained.” The men could almost hear a hint of disdain in their inscrutable leader’s voice. “There’s no grave-robbing left for you to commit here. What I’m paying you for the dig is all you’ll get today.” Each man was equal parts disappointed and confused. “Then what in Archaeon’s Name are we here for, Master Jacobson?”, one of the younger men chimed in.
The Sorcerer’s attention turned from his companions and to the Valley, brimming with the history of Humanity that now lay before them; his mind was racing with excitement. What secrets of the Egyptian Empire, long forgotten by the new Earth, might they uncover?
“We’re here to learn who our ancestors were, fellow Men.”
END OF CHAPTER 1
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