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“The Tomb Guardian” by NightEyes DaySpring
11th May 2020 • The Voice of Dog • Rob MacWolf and guests
00:00:00 00:16:55

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"Irsu’s family has guarded the tomb of one of Pharaohs for generations. Today he will finally learn why."

Today’s story is “The Tomb Guardian” by friend-of-the-fireplace NightEyes DaySpring, which appeared on his Patreon. A wolf with a penchant for coffee, NightEyes’ work has appeared in anthologies like FANG and Heat, and he edited the anthology Dissident Signals with Slip-Wolf. You can find more about his writing on twitter at @wolfwithcoffee or check out his website, https://nighteyes-dayspring.com.

Read for you by Khaki, your faithful fireside companion.

Transcripts

Speaker:

You’re listening to The Voice of Dog.

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I’m Khaki, your faithful fireside companion,

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and today’s story is

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“The Tomb Guardian”

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by friend-of-the-fireplace NightEyes DaySpring,

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which appeared on his Patreon.

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A wolf with a penchant for coffee,

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NightEyes’ work has appeared in anthologies like FANG and Heat,

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and he edited the anthology Dissident Signals with Slip-Wolf.

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You can find more about his writing on twitter

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at @wolfwithcoffee

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or check out his website, https://nighteyes

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-dayspring.com.

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“The Tomb Guardian”

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by NightEyes Dayspring

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Irsu crouched behind the pillar in the darkness,

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his tail lashing silently behind him.

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Only the faintest light crept in from outside,

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but the two fennecs the cheetah was watching

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had entered the tomb carrying an oil lamp that cast long shadows through the antechamber.

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The fennecs were talking as they studied the hieroglyphics

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and the sealed door of the tomb.

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“I was right. I knew this would be here.

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I believe this belonged to one of the pharaohs,”

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said one of the fennecs, the shorter one.

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Both were dressed in loose fitting desert clothing.

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The taller fennec scratched at an ear.

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“You were right. I wonder if it’s been opened yet.”

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“Hard to say. The entranceway looks like it was dug out recently, but the clay seal is intact,”

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said the short fennec,

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inspecting the rope that bound the doors to the tomb closed.

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“Well, their loss then,”

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said the taller one.

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“With the treasure in here, we’ll be rich.

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We’ll no longer have to live on scraps.”

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“Yeah, let me cut this rope off,” said the other fox,

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putting down the oil lamp.

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Irsu stepped out from behind the pillar,

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lifting up his khopesh,

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creeping forward with the sickle-sword ready to strike.

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He’d seen enough.

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These two were tomb robbers,

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and it was his job to defend this place.

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His family had served Sethos III through many generations,

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passing the blade down through the family,

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and he was not about ready to shrink back from his ancestral duty.

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Just as he started to swing the khopesh,

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the shorter fennec flicked an ear and turned.

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Irsu brought the blade down on the taller fennec who cried out in agony as he was struck in the shoulder.

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As the cheetah yanked the khopesh back,

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something silver flashed and the shorter fennec stabbed at him

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before backpaddling.

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The fennec’s dagger sunk right between his ribs,

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and Irsu stumbled back.

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The taller fennec feebly tried to staunch the wound,

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but he quickly crumbled.

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“This is our find!”

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snarled the smaller fennec.

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“This is the property of Sethos III,

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He-Who-Pacifies-the-Heart-of-Ra,”

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spat Irsu, pressing his free hand

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against the wound in his flank.

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Blood oozed around his fingers to stain his yellow fur.

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“It is my duty to defend it.”

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The fennec’s ears flicked.

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“Wait, I’ve seen you in the village before.

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You are from the Noor family.

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You keep to yourself.

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What are you doing here?”

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Irsu snarled.

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“My family serves the Pharaoh.

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Pharaoh.” “What? This tomb is thousands of years old.”

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The short fennec glanced at his partner

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who was lying on the ground

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in a giant pool of blood.

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“And you killed my brother!”

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snarled the fox. “You attacked my tomb!”

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yelled Irsu, leaping toward the fennec.

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His swing went wide, and the fennec easily dodged.

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As the fennec backed up,

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Irsu lunged forward.

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He closed the gap and swung again, bringing the blade across the fennec’s chest.

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As he struck the fox,

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he felt the dagger tear through his stomach.

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The cheetah’s eyes widened

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and he dropped

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the khopesh as he staggered. The fennec hit the floor,

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rolling to the side.

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“Bastard…” sputtered the fennec

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as he lay coughing on the stone floor.

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There was a growing sticky wetness in Irsu’s spotted fur.

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He stumbled over to the wall of the tomb

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and slipped down against the door,

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his blood smeared across the faded painting on the wall.

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He’d done his duty, but his blood quickly joined the pool of the blood from the first fennec he’d slain.

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The cheetah closed his eyes,

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and slumped to the side,

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dead. # He awoke to lamplight in the tomb.

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The dust and sand that covered the antechamber floor were gone.

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Instead of worn, faded paintings,

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the richly painted walls and ceiling were bright and fresh.

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The bodies of the fennecs were gone,

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and instead a figure cloaked in darkness stood over him.

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In one hand he carried a scepter with a curved head and ears,

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while in the other he carried an oil lamp.

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“It has been a long, long time since someone has made this journey,”

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intoned a deep voice.

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“Journey?” asked the cat,

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blinking to try and focus his eyes.

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“Yes, the journey here.

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A thousand years at least,

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I think. Time gets a bit meaningless to someone like myself, but I imagine to you that means something.

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Now stand.” Unsure of what was going on, the cheetah got up.

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He felt along his stomach.

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His wounds were gone.

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“What is your name?”

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“My name is…” he stumbled.

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He couldn’t remember.

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“What is your name?”

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repeated the figure in black.

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His ears fell. “I don’t remember.”

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“Your family did not prepare the spells for you?”

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“Spells?” “The spells.

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Without the spells you can’t complete the journey.

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How did you get here?”

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“I walk from the village to the tomb at night.

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I come here to guard it.”

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The dark figure considered for a moment.

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“Where did you die?”

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“In the tomb of Sethos III, fulfilling my duty.”

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The dark figure was silent for a moment.

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“Ah yes, I remember him.

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It has been centuries since he came.

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His soul was too heavy though, and I had to feed him to Ammit.

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He was not worthy of entering Du’at.”

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The cheetah was silent.

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The figure before him was not cloaked in darkness;

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he was pitch black, with tall canine ears.

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Gold glinted on him.

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“I’m dead, and you’re…”

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the cheetah trailed off.

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“Foremost of the Westerners, Master of Secrets,

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the Dog Who Swallows Millions…

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The titles go on and on, but yes, you are indeed dead,

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and I am here to weigh your heart.

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However, without the spells, you cannot pass into Du’at.”

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His mother had told him about the old ways,

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the traditions his family still followed.

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He’d not really believed,

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but he’d followed the duty of his parents, and his grandparents, and those before.

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They’d given him a name older than anyone in the village had,

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and he honored it by doing the duty of his family.

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A name he could no longer remember.

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“My apologies for having brought you here for nothing, Lord Anubis.”

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The jackal shrugged.

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“As I said, no one has made the journey in a long time.”

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He pondered. “Who are your mother and father?”

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“Nebet is my mother.

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She married Alif son of Mahmood.”

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“Nebet. Are your parents still alive?”

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“No. They both died a few years ago.

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We are a poor family and our crops failed when the Nile did not rise enough.”

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The jackal god pondered.

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“They did not come to me, so it is unlikely they passed into Du’at.

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It is likely they went elsewhere when they died.”

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“And me?” “We will weigh your heart, but first I need to know who you were.”

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“I can tell you my life,

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but my name is…” He couldn’t remember.

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Everything was there but his name.

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The jackal pointed to the sealed door and walked over to it.

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“We will borrow Sethos’s Book of the Dead. He has no need of it now.”

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Cradling the staff in the crock of his arm,

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he reached for the clay seal and spoke an incantation.

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The seal released,

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the rope falling harmlessly to the floor.

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Anubis touched the plaster wall and it dissolved.

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Carrying his staff and oil lamp,

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he entered the tomb

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and the cheetah followed. Anubis frowned. Inside the tomb was empty. Everything that should have been

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there was gone, each room stripped bare. The treasury, the burial chamber,

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even the storm room, were all empty.

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The bright pictures and hieroglyphics

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depicting Sethos’s life covering the walls showed that the tomb had been completed,

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but none of the things that were meant to sustain his ka

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were present. Only a sarcophagus was present,

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its lid hanging partly off the base from when Sethos had awoken.

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“Is it supposed to be empty?”

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asked the cheetah nervously.

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“No,” said the jackal.

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“Someone replaced the seals after taking the goods out,

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or they buried him with nothing.”

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He held the oil lamp up and looked over the walls.

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Images of battle filled them.

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“I sense this is why his ka was too heavy.

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His deeds in life weighed down his heart in death.”

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“My ancestors have guarded an empty tomb?”

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the cheetah said in disbelief.

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The jackal turned.

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“Apparently so, for a very, very long time.

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If there was a Book of the Dead here,

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it has long since been taken.”

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He scanned the walls,

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walking along, until the jackal stopped at a small inscription.

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“Sethos was a vain man.

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He filled these walls with his deeds and only his deeds.

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I do not see a single depiction of his wife

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of parents in here.

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He was obviously a man who wanted to be remembered.

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He doesn’t seem to have many of the spells inscribed on the walls of his tomb,

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but the one to remember his name is right here.”

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The jackal pointed at some hieroglyphics.

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The cheetah glanced at the spell.

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“I can’t read that.

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How is that going to help me remember my name is Irsu?”

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The jackal smiled

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and the cheetah’s eyes got wide.

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“The mind knows. Irsu?

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It is a good name.

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Come, we shall weigh your ka now.”

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He felt suddenly complete,

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and yet he was still not ready.

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“Aren’t the rest of the spells missing?”

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Isru asked. “First things first,” said Anubis,

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leading Irsu back to the tomb’s antechamber.

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The room was now lit by multiple lamps,

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a set of large black scales with golden accents had appeared in the room.

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The ceiling had a beautiful blue and gold design

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he’d never noticed before,

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and it looked almost like the night sky in the light.

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A creature with the head of a crocodile,

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the mane and chest of a lion, and legs of a hippo

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waited to one side of the scales. “It is good of you to

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come now, Ammit. It has been an age since we have done this,” spoke the jackal.

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Ammit laughed, showing all the long teeth in her mouth.

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“It has been too long since I have eaten someone’s ka,” she rasped.

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“First we see if he is worthy.”

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The jackal walked over to the scales, setting down the oil lamp.

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The cheetah followed Anubis, and Ammit

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watched intently as he passed.

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She waited patiently,

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leaning against one of the pillars in the tomb,

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as Anubis checked the scales and then pulled out a feather he had been carrying, tucked into his waistband.

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The feather was white,

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and seemed almost to float in the air.

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Even to Irsu, he could tell it wielded great power.

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“Irsu, son of Nebet and Alif, you stand before the scales to weigh your heart with the feather of truth Ma’at

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gives us. It is my duty to judge you, and you shall be judged.

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If you are worthy,

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I will think of what I can then do for you. Are you

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ready?” “I… yes?” stammered Irsu.

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What else could he say?

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The jackal nodded

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and walked up to the cheetah,

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and placed one hand on his shoulder

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and the other on his stomach.

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He whispered something and pulled his hand back.

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In it he held Irsu’s heart,

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his ka. Slowly it beat with Irsu’s life essence.

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The cheetah could only stare at it as Anubis placed it

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on one hanging platter, which tipped down.

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He then reached for the feather

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and placed it on the other platter.

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Slowly the scales

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evened out. The god nodded satisfied.

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“Do you know the forty-two negative confessions?”

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“The what?” “The forty-two things you should not do.

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Not commit robbery with violence. Not steal. Not slay men and women. Not curse the gods. The list goes on.”

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“I killed two men in defense of this tomb,”

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whispered Irsu. As he spoke the balance of the scales wavered.

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Anubis paused. “That was your duty though to do, was it not?”

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Irsu nodded slowly,

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tail lashing behind himself,

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ears pinned back.

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The god considered for a minute,

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watching the scales.

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He then reached for Irsu’s heart

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and picked it up.

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Almost imperceptibly,

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the scales tilted since the feather was the only thing on it.

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“I cannot ask you to do the confessions if you were never taught them.

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However, your heart does not bear witness against you,

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and you have made no preparations to lie. I deem you

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worthy.” The cheetah sagged

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and Anubis walked back to the cheetah

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and placed his hand on his chest,

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giving Irsu back his ka.

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“Thank you,” whispered Irsu,

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“but now what?” “You complete the journey.”

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The jackal looked around expectantly,

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but there was no one else in the room.

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”Ammit, where are the others?”

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The chimera looked disappointed.

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“They did not come.

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Irsu has not completed any preparation for this journey.

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Thoth said he could not record his name

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because he never intended to make this trip.”

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The jackal frowned,

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thinking. “Is my heart too heavy?”

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asked Irsu, ears back.

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“No.” Anubis walked around the tomb,

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inspecting the hieroglyphics in the antechamber.

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“You came to me because I was to judge any here.”

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He traced a hand across the wall.

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“Just like I judged Sethos.”

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The jackal stopped and glanced up and down.

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“What is it?” asked Irsu.

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“It’s the spells,” said Ammit.

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“I thought the spells were missing?”

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asked Irsu. Anubis traced his hands across the wall, carefully reading.

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“It’s the spells, isn’t it,” repeated the crocodile chimera.

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“Sethos must have had them altered to suit his needs.”

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“It’s more than just that.

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Sethos added his own.”

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The jackal turned around.

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“He made it so that anyone who lay here would be judged by me,

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and he bound your family to this place.

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So great was his hubris he thought he could cheat the truth of what Ma’at shows us,

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but so quickly did his heart betray him.”

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“So, I’m trapped here?”

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asked Irsu. “I can always free you,” suggested Ammit,

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her tongue licking one of her exposed fangs.

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“Let me think,” said Anubis.

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The cheetah walked up to the wall.

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“You said he bound my family to this place?”

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“Yes. As long as your forefathers’ bloodline lived in the world above, they would be called to protect this tomb.”

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“Not all my ancestors came here.

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My brother and sister have never been.”

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“The spell must have weakened as the generations passed.”

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“Can I leave?” Ammit spoke up.

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“Even if you could pass into Du’at without the spells, you cannot go to Aaru,

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the field of reeds.

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Osiris will not accept you unless Thoth records your name.”

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“Then?” Anubis shook his head.

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“I cannot send you on your way.

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You will never be able to complete the journey.”

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“Perhaps. I could go

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with you?” Irsu asked Anubis.

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“Me?” he pondered. “It has been a long time since I ruled the underworld, but I can take certain liberties.

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Osiris would not object.

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Is that what you want?”

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Irsu nodded. “It would be better than here.”

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Ammit pushed off from the pillar.

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“I was hoping to just eat him,”

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she said, walking past them toward a door of light that appeared in the far wall.

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“Oh well, perhaps we’ll be rewarded with another someday.”

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She vanished through the light.

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Irsu blinked at the doorway of light.

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“Go. I’ll be right behind you,”

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Anubis said, pointing toward the doorway.

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Hesitantly Irsu walked up to it.

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He turned around,

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but the jackal made a shooing motion.

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The cheetah walked through the light

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and was gone. Anubis walked over to where the khopesh still lay on the floor and picked it up.

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The blade shone in the light.

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He went over to the wall where one of the spells

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Sethos had placed was inscribed,

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the one that called to those of the Noor family.

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With a whispered word of strength to the blade,

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he struck the wall with the khopesh

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until the name of the Noor’s had been chipped from the wall.

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No one would come here now.

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Sethos would be forgotten now by time.

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Satisfied, he dropped the sickle-sword and the magic he’d used to reinforce it gave way.

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The blade shattered.

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Smiling, Anubis then walked to the portal of light.

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As he left, all the light in the room faded

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and darkness swallowed the tomb

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as sand started to fill it.

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This was “The Tomb Guardian”

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by NightEyes DaySpring,

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read for you by Khaki,

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your faithful fireside companion.

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For more stories you can find us wherever you get your podcasts, or on the web at thevoice.dog.

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Thank you for listening

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