---

---

---

---

Nora felt perhaps foolish for expecting a reply of some sorts from a goddess. Her face turned a delicate shade of pink as she stepped away from the window, shaking her head at herself in admonishment. The expectation had been unreasonable, she surmised. Why, if she were an Egyptian goddess who branded strangers from foreign lands in her free time, why should she be available to answer every little query? But at the same time, it was just as unreasonable for Nora to presume to know the inner workings of a deity--almost just as unreasonable for a woman of math and science to believe in a deity.

But as she stepped away from the window, looking fondly at Spot, whom had curled up on the couch, she supposed that if the Christian scientists could believe in the divine and study things of a more logical nature, perhaps she could as well. She could not deny the events that had happened that night and she could not disprove Neema's hypothesis. Perhaps some sleep would ease her mind.

Nora gently ruffled Spot's head, as the dog looked up wearily at her. "It's time for bed, darling," Nora whispered. She scratched him behind the ears and then headed into her bedroom, hearing her dog follow behind her. A moment later, she was tucked into bed and in her favorite nightgown, with Spot curled up at the foot of her bed. It took her less than an hour to fall asleep, already expecting that reoccurring dream, or rather night terror, to come.

---

---

Privacy? If Haakon had been one of faith, he could have thanked the gods for a brief moment at the thought of some privacy. Or more fitting, some time not being forced to be around certain people in their company. Not that he would do very much other than sleep, but the escape from staring eyes and judging looks was more than he could have wished for after today's events. So when he steward announced that he would lead them to their rooms, he followed intently and kept close to Josephine.

"By the way, Jo, I hope you can get back to your film after all of this. I've been waiting for far too long for it to be finished." Haakon said, for a very specific reason. Walking up the stairs to where their rooms where, he kept on talking in a casual voice to her. "It is going to be great. The script so far seems fine. However, I might have one quarrel with it. That scene where that guy wrotes a poem in the car..."

The sight of armed soldiers standing guard would have been a welcoming, even comforting sight, hadn't it been for Haakon's nagging feeling of them being here to keep them in, and not the other way around. Not that he was about to escape the barracks, that would simply have been stupid, and he had never allowed himself to be stupid before...too many times...perhaps. "It seems a little far fetched to me. Might be best to leave it out, don't you think? Keep things realistic. Keep it simple. People love that." The steward wished them a good night and promptly set off, while Aziza hugged Harry and bade them all a good night. Haakon smiled kindly back to her. "Good night, Miss Tarek." Haakon looked at Harry as well, smiling at him and at Josephine, before entering his own room. "Good night, Mr. Walsh. Good night, Jo. Sleep well, both of you."

For the first time all that day, Haakon felt that he could close his eyes longer than five seconds without waiting for something to happen. As soon as his head landed on the pillow, he felt his body drift away into lightness. Then it got darker and even darker. He just wished Josephine knew what he had been talking about. After that, Haakon couldn't remember what he thought.

---

---

Once Lauren had closed the door to Vera's room she made her way to the room that was right next door, she slowly opened the door once she was in she closed the door and turned the lock. She looked around and spotted a little bit of food and some wine, she turned over towards the bathroom seeing that there was a bath that was already set up for her. Lauren walked over running a hand over the water, it wasn't hot but comfortable enough she started to get changed. Lauren then started pulling herself into the tub leaning back and closed her eyes letting out a soft relaxed sigh as Lauren slowly started to clean herself.

Once she felt she was fully cleaned Lauren got up wrapping the towel around herself and grabbed the clothes that she had been wearing all day, all of her things were still in her hotel room back at the Savoy Hotel. Lauren grabbed some of the bread and poured herself a glass of wine taking a bite out of the bread. Lauren slowly walked over looking out the window at the Nile seeing the river was relaxing as she took a sip from her wine.

Letting out a slight yawn as she turned over to look at her bed, something she both looked forward to and slightly dreaded she was tired, but she wasn't sure if the nightmares would come back again since her time in Cairo. Lauren finished up her glass of wine as well as the piece of bread she had been eating on, she laid her clothes down at the foot of the bed before climbing into the bed herself. Lauren then reached over turning off the light to her room she rolled over onto her right side and slowly started closing her eyes as she quickly started to fall asleep.

---

---

Really, this was becoming unbearable. Not only were her things taken, but she was now being put into accommodations much worse than where she was staying. If she didn't want to see this whole debacle through so badly, she would have left. However, something urged her to stay. Perhaps she was just stubborn. Either way, she was here now.

Haakon kept talking about her current movie project. To be honest, she hadn't given it much thought. "I am sure I will get back into the swing of things once I get back, darling. As for that scene, I feel it adds much-needed emotion to the scene. After all, it's not like we'll be talking in the movie. Not yet anyway." She gave a warm smile, knowing the movie industry was making leaps and bounds on improving itself, and she wanted to be in the midst of it.

As they all got to their room, she let out a weary sigh. She was exhausted and could use some much-needed sleep. She was about to set foot in her room before Aziza spoke up, bidding them a good night. Jo mentally lashed herself for being rude to the woman she quickly grew fond of. She gave her the warmest of smiles, "Goodnight, hon. Sleep well. Goodnight Haakon, darling. See you in the morning." With that, she entered her new room and closed the door.

She fell asleep almost instantly, but a few thoughts remained as she entered sleep. The day's events were crazy. What would happen next?

---

---

---

---

---

It seemed that, beyond the realm of possibility, everything was getting settled for the evening. Reginald heeded the words of the Steward. His guests were billeted and fed, given comfort befitting an officer in the Royal Military. Rather more than some deserved, in his estimation, but it would be vastly outside the realm of gentlemanly behavior to show less favor to some guests than others. No, everyone would have equal privilege under his care, social rank outside of the Barrack's walls notwithstanding. An interesting but quick turn of subject caught his attention; their Lieutenant in charge of office legalities wished an audience concerning some paperwork. Such a thing would generally be better left brought up in the cool light of the morning, but here was the Steward, mentioning it presently.

He played it off, being as he was in front of guests. "Yes, quite. Well then, schedule a meeting just prior to breakfast to outline the issue, hopefully it shan't take long." He gave a quiet but intense look to the man, imparting a seriousness that his more flippant words did not. "But in the meantime, is my evening Tea ready?"

"Of course, Lord Major." It was pleasant to not hear his title shouted in his face.

"Excellent. Then I shall see you on the morrow, my good man." Reginald tipped his cap to anyone left in the common area, bidding them a pleasant evening, before retiring to his own rooms. He treated himself to a rich, firm plum from a crystal bowl of them, and sat down to a lovely, warming cup of chamomile. His evening's rest would be shorter than he'd prefer, and the next day would likewise be longer than he'd wish. He must remember to schedule a bit of naptime in the afternoons, that being the case, and a small pot of some of that strong Arabica bean preparation the locals were so fond of, despite the Lord Major's surety that it would likely prove disastrous to his innards with prolonged usage. But for now he had his sword, sidearm, guards, and a fully functioning military base to provide decent security.

He locked his door all the same.

Reginald quickly found himself in a respectable cap and nightshirt, windows tightly shuttered against the cool breeze coming from the Nile (which looked particularly lovely this evening). He finished his warming drink and settled into his most comfortable bed. The day could have gone worse. It was bad, but life could be treating him much worse, here in his autumn years. Those problems he could fix tomorrow. The Lord Major would help his friends and family, ensuring their safety as best he was able, and maybe even help to solve a rather interesting bit of intrigue that troubled them all.

But now...

Sleep.

---

---

Offering a smile toward Aziza as he saw her flash one toward him, Harry walked along with her through the barracks as they were led to their quarters. The last time he had been in a barracks Harry had been of course slumming it with the enlisted personnel. Depending on where he was he had sometimes been treated to a nice NCO's quarters, but in most cases, and what he expected here, was that the divide between the officer and the enlisted man was considerable. As he looked around the barracks, for a moment Harry had to remind himself he was not an enlisted man any longer. He even caught himself with an upright posture, stride long and arms swinging almost as if marching, habit seeping in.

As they came to the rooms, he glanced through them, raising an eyebrow. He certainly hadn't been wrong, the rooms were more lavish than he was used to on a barracks such as this, by a considerable degree. Taking note of which one was his own, he turned back toward Aziza just in time to meet her hug, smiling softly as he wrapped his arms around her in return, simply giving her a nod before he turned to the others. "Goodnight, everyone." He watched as they all shifted off into their rooms, sighing as he took a moment to roll a cigarette and light it, slipping it between his lips as he let the tobacco burn away his stress of the evening. Once he was done, he tossed the butt aside, sighing as he moved into his room and climbed into bed, slowly letting sleep take him.

---

---

---

The night was long and stifling in Cairo that evening. The hours ticking away like sands through the hourglass, drifting down lightly as if something was forcing their decent to slow to a crawl. crawling through the sands, suffocating but one could not wake enough to do anything to keep them from continuing. To stop the dreams, the nightmares, the visions that enveloped their minds. It was all too much and yet one could not writhe themselves free from the chains that bound them to their restless slumber. some might find solace in what they had dreamt, others would only find despair. All would find more questions than any answers that were provided. should they scream, it would not be heard. sound did not travel from the Sandman to the waking world.

Vera, Harry, & Aziza: The sun had set and the moon had risen. The colors of the night one would normally think of where not there. There was no cool blues, no crisp whites, no blacks of nothingness. the light of this moon that hung over the vast desert was shades of yellow, of greens, and grays. It was warm, not cold. It held a humidity that threatened to choke but you breathed as your toes rested in the sands. There is silence but you are not alone. Looking to your left and to your right you see two others, you see each other. The three of you forming the corners of a triangle, in the center above you is the forth point, the moon there like a sparkling canary diamond. From the light of the moon a shadow comes, in gray and yellow and green. Slowly it moves, swift on feet that seem to hit in the air on a solid surface. Sprinting towards you. Four legs but a formless figure at first. It isn't until the sands shift and the light fades from blinding can you make out what it is. A cat sits there peering into your eyes. It doesn't matter which one you are, it is facing you some how and away from the others. Its green and yellow eyes piercing you. You are afraid and yet you feel as if you are home.

Haakon, Josephine, & Nora: There you stand in the waters of the Nile. A woman on each bank, a man in the center. It is you. You three. The rivers water is hot, sticky as the air. The sun is shining down, heating everything around you to a boil. It is stifling and painful, like your brands. Your clothing, no matter if it is just standing on the bank with your feet in the water and your toes in the silt or if you are waist deep, it is becoming soaked. The moisture creeping its way up the fabric, staining it in crimson. Dipping your hands in it, it pooling in your cupped hands, it runs red. Blood fills your hand and you try to move but you are held there. An unknown force keeping you from moving as the level of the Nile rises. Up the banks it crawls. To your knees or chest. To your chest or throat. Slowly it climbs. You fight but cannot move. Slowly, tormentingly so, it comes to your mouth, over it, to your nose. You can smell and taste the blood. See it as it coats your eyes until you are beneath the sticky hot burning liquid that bubbles around you like a demons cauldron. You scream, there are no words. It fills your lungs, you try to breath, you try not to breath. Until you are nearly suffocated, until you can hold it no longer. Then your eyes snap open and you are beneath the river of blood, you are breathing the crimson. You see each other. Between you, three sides of the pyramid, a seal is broken.

Reginald, Peter, Lauren, & William: In a valley of grass you four stand. Three around a risen dune, one at the top. The single female the pinnacle. The sun is high above you and you can hear the drums of war. Cries of death. The sound of flesh being pierced by metal and more. Turn and look. To one side men with the heads of lions fight scorpion like mutations. War, death. It surrounds you. You can do nothing, you cannot move but watch the slaughter or each side. Gods fighting Gods? Is that what you see? Two of the creatures, one Lion, one Scorpion, stand twice the height of the others. Facing off against the other. Sitting on a throne of reeds is another with the head of a Jackal, just watching. A cat curled up in his lap and a scale with a single feather on one side. He looks at you, all of you at once and one at a time it seems. You feel your heart pain, agonizing. Blood stains your chest. You see your own beating heart before you. It is hovering there, moving towards the scales. Will your heart weigh more than the feather?

You all wake.



The city streets have come alive as the sun rises. The air has yet to be warmed by the rising sun and it is comfortable. The winds sweep around the city as people rise and start their day. Some have yet to sleep from the night before. A Clerk finishes up his paper work and slips it into an envelope before rising from his place. He walks across the barracks to C.O.'s room and slides the envelope under the door before going to his own room to finally sleep just a few doors down. It has been a long night for him.

In one room a woman rises and she looks around frantically, what a dream has she had? Shaking her head to brush the cobwebs and the hangover away she reaches for the aspirin and takes several with a class of lukewarm water. Why had she dreamed what she had? Why did she see those two in her dream? Splashing her face with water she patted her face with a piece of linen. So many more questions. She needed to get to the museum, she needed to look at her books. Ringing the bell, she summoned the Steward.

In another room where the other guests are being given quarters doors down another rises. The woman pushes back her classic length hair and rushes to the window, throwing open the shutters to look at the sky. The sun was just breaking the horizon. That was a dream was it not? She was not sure. It frightened her but then again she found an odd comfort in it. Her fingers running over her pendant she thought of the man and woman she had seen in her dream. Why were they there? Perhaps it was time to leave, but how far did one have to run to escape their nightmares? Walking to the door she opened it to see the posted guard. Should she leave the room yet? If she did he would escort her. Shaking her head she told him she would wait for someone else from her group before she would head out for food. was she even hungry?

Near the room of the Lord Major, a man rose in his own room. He felt as if he had just relived a war he never wanted to be part of. his leg twinged with the usual morning pain but he grabbed his cane either way and quickly cleaned and readied himself for the day before pushing out of his room. Glancing around and listening, there were no sounds of war. Small prayers were answered for now. Turning, he walked slowly towards the room of his uncle. The clerk had long since gone and therefor he did not see him anywhere. By this time the man was sleeping, perhaps more peacefully than many others that evening before. A sound knock on the door came rapping through it. "Uncle? Are you awake? We need to speak," he called out through the door before resting his hand down on top of the other which leaned on his cane.

---

---

---

---

Nora might have expected swirling sand, an unknown tongue whispering words she could not fathom, the heat of the desert, and then the shining gold udjat upon her finger. She had been in Cairo for a year and a half, with that dream haunting her sleep and spiking in frequency just three nights ago. It became her only dream, but it did not repeat itself this time. If she had been lucid, it would have been quite a shock and a relief, but she never had been a lucid sleeper.

She found herself standing on the bank of the Nile, the water strangely hot and sticky. It reminded her of cough medicines. As she took a moment to look around, the sun scorching and her entire surroundings sweltering, she noticed two familiar faces: the journalist and the diva. She tilted her head ever so slightly, before gasping from an immense and unfortunately familiar pain. Nora screamed from the pain, her eyes wide as her clothing began to become heavy, as what she thought was water wetted it. But as she looked down at her dress, it was not water. Blood crept up her clothing and for some reason, she crouched and dipped her hands in the water, coming up with a swirling pool of red.

Nora attempted to run, but she was held in place. She was transfixed by some force she could not perceive or comprehend. The water began to rise, yet she still could not move. Not even when the water had reached her neck--it continued to rise, menacingly slowly. She had no huge fears of drowning, yet that did not mean her heart did not beat quickly with terror. The blood water overcame her mouth and she tilted her head back, desperately grabbing a final breath.

It then overcame her nose and she could smell the blood. The liquid, hot and sticky, submerged Nora. She tried to squint her eyes to keep the blood out, but they were wide with shock, and she could see the bubbles rising around her. The blood had begun to boil. Her chest felt like it was caving in as she held her breath, her head feeling lighter and lighter by the moment. She could not continue without breath much longer. As if in a final act of desperation, she screamed weakly, the breath gone from her. Nora attempted to breathe somehow, tasting the iron of the blood, and she tried all the same not to breathe.

There seemed to be no use, no hope. She felt herself slipping as she let go, as she ceased trying. This was how she was to die, then. Drowned in blood. She closed her eyes, not quite at peace with her fate, but powerless against it.

Then her eyes opened suddenly and she gasped, finding she could breathe. It was not air she was breathing, rather, she was breathing crimson. Looking above, she spotted the river of blood, the once-waters of the Nile. She then turned her attention to her new location. The journalist and the diva were there once more. She tilted her head again as she regarded them, before noticing the broken seal between them.

---

Nora gasped, sitting upright in the bed. Spot, to his credit, did not seem to startle as easily as his mistress. He jumped up and licked Nora's face, as she merely stared forward in bewilderment. Glancing down at her finger, she saw the bandage and knew that the brand remained. It would forever be a part of her, a fact that she would need to accept. She had countless more questions, and as she glanced towards the window, Nora decided to pay another visit to the Nile that day.

If that was where all of this mysteriousness stared, perhaps there would be something else to discover...And even better yet, she was quite certain that Neema would have some notion of the meaning behind her dreams. She had not yet discussed them with the woman, but she now felt terrified to not confess everything to her. She knew nothing about this world she felt herself falling into, with reality slipping through her fingers like sand.

Dressing in a cool beige dress, Nora slipped on some socks and then her shoes, grabbing her red cloche hat and adding it on top. She bit her lip slightly, and sniffed her shoulders. Finding that the heat she envisioned in her dream had not quite caused a great deal of sweat, she relaxed slightly more, and left her bed for the sitting room, the room the door opened into. It was perhaps early to expect Neema, yet she doubted she could sleep much longer.

She dared not risk another dream.

---

---

Lauren slowly opened her eyes to the sounds of war drums out in the distance, she looked down at her feet seeing herself standing on top of a dune. Her attention then turned to see Reginald, Peter and William she wasn't sure why the three of them were in the dream with her. She jumped slightly hearing the sounds of cries of death and the clashing of steel against flesh, and steel hitting against steel. She watched the battlefield before her, unable to move or try and get away from the scene before her Lauren saw men with what appeared to have a lions head fighting against weird scorpion like creatures.

It was all around her, and no matter what she tried to do Lauren couldn't move the war was all around her she watched in the distance as a giant lion and a scorpion were fighting against each other. Her eyes scanned the battle going around her, until her eyes finally fell upon a man sitting on a throne with what appeared to be a head of a jackal upon his head. She noticed the cat curled up in his lap, then her attention went to the scale on the jackal man head's lap was. Lauren with a confused look noticed the feather that was on it as well, she was confused with everything going on around her.

Lauren then felt a sharp searing pain going through her chest, then something warm and very wet slowly sliding down her chest slowly she looked down seeing her chest bloodied with a hole where her heart should be. She saw her own beating heart slowly dripping with her own blood onto the ground, just floating before her as she watched it along with the other's moving over towards the scales.

Lauren suddenly shot up from her bed breathing heavily as she pulled the covers off of her hands quickly patting over and looking down at her chest. Seeing everything that was still intact Lauren let out a sigh of relief it was just yet another weird fucked up dream to her, ever since she came to Cairo. She still felt tired, Lauren started making her way over towards the table pouring herself a glass of wine that was there from the night before Lauren instantly downed it rather quickly Lauren then slammed the glass down onto the counter. "Dè an ifrinn gun robh aisling?" She asked herself.

Lauren slowly stumbled over towards the edge of her bed putting on her clothes she had been wearing the day before, and turned towards the door slowly opening it up. She saw the guard down at one end of the hallway Lauren. Though something was bothering her still and wondered why Reginald, Peter and William were in the dream with her, she wasn't even sure if she could go and ask them.

---

---

To sleep, perchance to dream...

Dreams, or rather nightmares, have been more common since Jo set foot in Egypt. She chose not to let them bother her, but each night it became worse and worse to put on a smile and greet the day. Now, with all that has happened, and the fact there are others along with her who have experienced these dreams, it weighed on her mind.

The dream she saw that night was unlike the others. It was more real, more vivid. It was like she was taken into another world, as though she were not asleep in the Barracks anymore. She stood there, along the bank of the river, along with two others. Haakon stood in the middle and the other girl, the one she met at the museum, stood on the other bank. She wanted to move, but she couldn't. She wanted to call out, but she couldn't. An unknown force seemed to be holding her there. She wanted nothing more than to scream when the red liqid came surging forth. Was it blood? It had to be. She could feel the warmth, the stickyness to it. Soon, it came to them and started rising. Over her knees, her waist. Soon it got to her neck. Try as she might, she couldn't move. The others stood there too, as if they were all coming to terms with their fate.

The blood soon began to cover her face. She looked to see the others. She looked towards the pyramid. The seal breaks. And in another instant, it is dark.

---

Josephine woke up with a small gasp. She checked herself. She was still asleep in the Barracks. She could breathe. She took a few moments to collect herself. It was so real. This had to stop. The nightmares were becoming problematic. She rose and wanted a cigarette. She took one and breathed it in. It was unhealthy, of course, but it soothed herself.

It became even more evident she was meant to be here. She wondered about a change of clothing. Surely they didn't expect to wear the same thing twice. Perhaps they would send someone to retrieve her things? Or provide her with adequate attire? Either way, she remained in her room until it was time.

---

---

Water. Running water. The feeling of liquid floating past his feet, his legs, his waist...but why?

Haakon opened his eyes to this unfamiliar feeling of him standing waist-high in water. As he opened them, he saw where he was; The Nile river, the River of Life and grand civiliations of time-immortal. Yet something was different, very different. He turned to see Josephine standing on one bank of the river, and the odd lady with from before. A name floated in his mind; Nora. The rest was a mist, or more like a flood akin the running river he found himself standing him; the river he found himself stuck in.

No, this was no ordinary dream, not even the one that had haunted Haakon's mind for the recent past. This was a nightmare. The water he found himself pooling in his hand was not water, but something thicker and crimson. Blood. And it was rising. Haakon looked at the two others, desperately crying for them to leave, but words he could not muster. Not now, and not after the river of blood rose above his head, drowning him in the liquid of life.

His eyes sprung open. No, he was not dead. But perhaps something worse than death awaited his eyes to behold. All around him, Josephine and Nora were crimson red, wet and thick. They were drowning in blood, yet he could breath. Then his mind finally fathomed what he saw. A pyramid stood between the three of them, of a size Haakon could simply not comprehend. And somethng broken. A seal. A broken seal.

What did all of this mean?

---

Haakon felt his awareness come back to him just as he rolled violently over and out of his bed. With a loud thud he hit the floor of his room, leaving a small feeling of pain in his cheek. Where was he? What had happened? Where were Nora and Josephine? Just as quickly as he got back up on his feet to find out what the heck was going on, he remembered. He remembered the previous day, the small dinner between him and Josephine, the meeting in the Nile with the frail-looking woman and the undescriblable branding on their fingers, the congregation in the Museum and the journey home from the barracks and the chase after Abbas. He remembered the stern talk of silence and secrecy at the hotel, the search and interview once again at the barracks, and him going to sleep.

Yet it was this dream that disturbed him the most, for it confirmed one thing; that all of those past events were not merely coincidences. There was something very, very strange going on, something he was slowly starting to realize not logically explainable. But what? How? Why?

Haakon wanted to do something. Something to process what had just befallen him, but he was at a loss. With nothing to write or type with, he couldn't write down his account to use for later reference, nor could he draw a sketch of the scene that had appeared before him. He sat down at the bed for a minute, wondering what to do. In the end there was only one thing he could think of, and he seriously did not relish the thought of it.

---

---

Harry had never taken comfort in his dreams, not since the war. Too often were they plagued with anguish, pain, a hail of lead and fire and the smell of mud. If it wasn't one of the stifling, monstrous memories he often had of the war, his dreams were plagued by that reoccurring image that he'd seen time and time again since he came to Cairo, that sort of horrid film that just replayed itself again and again in his minds eye. No, this time he was treated to a new kind of dream, perhaps not even that, an omen.

The feeling of sand beneath his feet, that was familiar at least, he hadn't had a dream which wasn't in the desert for some time. His gaze turned skyward, seeing the strange colours of the moon. He realised then the even stranger sensation, the heat from it, he opened his mouth as if to speak but found that intense humidity stifling almost. It made no sense. He went to look around for where he was when he saw Vera first, raising an eyebrow before he saw Aziza as well. Why were they there? He looked up yet again, just in time to see the shadow. He went to move but he couldn't, he found himself stuck there, staring up into the sky as it drew nearer. He closed his eyes tight, waiting for something, anything.

He saw the cat when he opened them, his gaze meeting its eyes as he stared back toward it. The fear he felt wasn't new, it was a feeling he was strangely used to by now, but it nagged him nonetheless. He remained silent as he stared, encapsulated by the creature as it sat in the sand before him, before the darkness gave way.



As he sat up suddenly, Harry sucked in a deep breath, as if he had been unable to for the whole night. Panting for a few moments, he let the feeling of breathlessness dissipate as he settled, adjusting to the feeling of what almost felt like a panic attack. Bringing a hand up, he ran it over his face for a moment, sighing as he gathered himself and gently threw his covers off, swinging his legs over the side of the bed as he moved to stand. Scratching at his cheek, he grabbed the cigarette he'd pre-rolled the night before, moving to the window as he dragged it open, slipping the cigarette between his lips.

With the sun and the sands of the desert in plain view, Harry stared, lighting the cigarette between his lips as he let it burn, almost savouring the burning sensation as he took the smoke down his throat. Sighing, he remained where he was, staring out into the morning sunrise as he thought on his dream. Why those two? Why had they been in his dream, and what had any of it meant? He knew it must have meant something, this was certainly no ordinary dream, after all. Sighing, he scratched at his chin again, remaining at the window for now until he heard the shuffling of feet outside or a knock on the door.

---

---

---

---

William's night had been as comfortable and as dull as they got. No big adventure chasing after an escaped convict. Alas, William had comfortably escorted Nora home from the museum, and then head back to his own hotel room for a good nights rest. Of course, the ease of his evening didn't mean that he would actually face anything of the sort in his dreams. It may not have been that very same dream which for some time had plagued him, but he certainly didn't feel as though this new on was particularly comforting in any particular degree. If anything, he preferred the old one.

The sounds of battle, distant, then nearer, he saw the others he was with, and then the combatants, as if mythology was playing out right before his eyes. He had to resist the instinct to grab his notepad and begin taking it all down. Not that the could have anyway, it soon became clear to him that he could not move, trapped in the reality of the situation as he stood there in a kind of stunned silence, the images, the people he saw, he knew though. Or at least, thought he knew, he had learned enough of egyptian mythology. What he didn't understand even remotely was why he was seeing it, or what any of it was meant to mean. He let out a gasp as he felt the pain, staring at his heart as it came out of his body and drifted toward the scales, right before darkness came.



Groaning as he sat up suddenly, William groaned again as he hit his head on the overhanging bed-head. Sitting back again as he sighed, thinking on the dream he'd just had. How early it was didn't bother him, nor how tired he still was. Within moments he was out of bed, notepad in his hands as he jotted down what he remembered, it was vivid, that was for sure, and he knew there was something to be found in it, there had to be. Collating his notes, he moved to his desk then, still in only his nightclothes as he searched through books and journals, flipping through pages in some vain attempt to make any kind of sense of the dream.

Clues, mysteries, mythology, it was all his life, his goal, and it was now staring him straight in the face. What did it all mean?

---

---

---

---

---

"Oh I say, marvelous! Simply marvelous." thought the Lord Major, simply resplendent in his battle dress uniform in the midst of what looked like a vision of a turbulent, war-soaked afterlife. It confused him as to why there were others present, particularly others to which he had recently spoken. Did one not speak with departed relatives when one died? Admittedly, this was most decidedly not how Pastor Billingsley described the hereafter. From his descriptions, there was far less in the way of animal headed monstrosities doing each other in with sharp objects, and a touch more gently strummed stringed instruments and winged messengers of the Lord.

He finally attempted to say something aloud. "This is quite the locale, is it not? I ... I wonder if this is the afterlife if one dies in Egypt? How exhilarating!" It really was, for an old soldier like himself. Reginald was never really one for the concept of Valhalla, but now seeing what appeared to be an eternal battle being waged between gods? There was some appeal in utilizing a long lifetime of combat experience after his demise. Comforting. It got his blood moving, frankly. Or at least it did, until his heart was unceremoniously removed by what he assumed was A Nudist. Anudist? Anoobis? Well, no matter. Heart gone, and whatnot. Frightful stuff, that.

If this as his afterlife, that must mean that he was dead. And so were these other people. But he didn't remember dying bravely at all. No glorious passing, no chucking it in like all of his fellows, in honorable combat or giving his life for another. "Dear merciful Lord, did I die in my sleep like a common gardener? Fiddlesticks!" This was not how he wanted to go. Not at all.

It suddenly occurred to him over the truly depressing thought that he had very mundanely expired (likely with a freshly shat bed, for good measure) that his actual heart was floating before him like a meaty, substandard party favor. As the thought dawned fully, a blast of ripping pain flooded him.

And then he woke.

At least his bed was as yet unsoiled. That was a plus. The Lord Major swung his feet around and set them onto the floor. Slowly he stood and toddled toward his private lavatory, when the sight of a manila envelope caught his eye from upon the floor next to the door to the hallway. "Ah, catalogue results..." he mumbled to himself. But priorities dictated an immediate shuffle to his toilet.

A few minutes later, Reginald addressed the matter of the envelope, giving a quick once-over. There were only a couple of things he needed to see before his face grew very stern. But true to the actions of a good Officer of the Empire, he made ready to wash and dress before attending to less civil matters. He was, after all, a gentleman. About the time his trousers were properly suspended about himself, a knock reported from his door. Along with it, his nephew's voice. He unlocked the door and pulled it open, sweeping his hand back behind him as welcoming gesture.

"Yes, yes. Indeed we might need to speak, Nephew. Please, do enter."

---

---

Barracks: The Steward knocked on Vera's door a short time later. Opening it she handed him a letter. It was in a thick stock envelope but unsealed. Vera knew the drill. The Steward opened it and gave it a once over before sliding it back into the envelope. "Could you deliver that to Lady Kingston in Garden City post haste please?" she asked before holding out some of her personal money. The man nodded and stuck the envelope in his pocket before turning down the tip and letting her know that breakfast for her and the rest of the guests was being served in officers area this morning. "Yes, of course. Thank you," she added before hurrying back into her room and freshening up for the morning. She didn't have a change of clothing but what she had on would do. She could always change later once she had breakfast and left for the museum. She had a lot of work to do and in the back of her mind she hoped enough to keep her busy and post-pone her talk with Peter just a little longer.

Aziza too knew the morning drill and as the knock came to her door, and to the rest of the guests, it didn't surprise her. Being informed breakfast was being served for them in the officers area. She had taken the time to freshen up as best she could and grabbed her bag before exiting her room. Her guard was waiting there and gave her a curt nod before escorting her down the stairs and to the officers part of the barracks. Leading her into the set up meal area on the back veranda that was overlooking the Nile. Food was laid out and several officers were already there filling their plates with the various local and British dishes. Sadly she didn't see anyone she knew so she opted to get a cup of what one man told her was Builders Tea. "Here you go love, have a biscuit with it. Best way to start a day if you aren't wantin' any bangers and mash," he said before wandering off to his table with several of his fellow officers. "Was half of that even English?" she asked herself as she looked at the cup of tea before her.

Peter entered the room and gave his uncle a warm hug. It felt good to be around him again, even with the dream he had had. "I think the heat here is already getting to me Uncle, I might ask for something to help me sleep more soundly tonight," he chuckled as he released his uncle from the embrace. The Steward coming up quickly behind him and letting them both know breakfast was being served before he headed out to make sure the letter from Lady Munn was delivered as requested. Peter nodded before took a seat in his uncle's room none the less. He waited for the door to close before he said anything else. "Please don't repeat this but I think the area and stories are mixing with my own past and giving me a case a shell shock dear uncle. The night was not pleasant."

Garden City: Neema had fixed a nice breakfast and tea for Nora before heading up towards the woman's room. Her son stopping her and asking her to deliver a letter that had been sent for Lady Kingston just a few moment prior. Taking the letter she rested it on the silver tray and made her way up the stairs, that was of course after telling her son what a handsome young man he was. He wasn't but hey mothers eyes are blind, or at least her tongue knows what to say when asking him to go out and collect some things for her he normally wouldn't do. The compliment was enough to get him moving. He was off shift now anyways and the door was being handled by his relief.

Upstairs Neema knocked on the door and waited with tray in hand, she hoped it wasn't too early for Lady Kingston. It wasn't early per-say but the poor girl had had troubles the day before and was up late. It wouldn't have surprised her if she was still resting but she knocked again and waited. The letter on the tray said the following - Dear Lady Kingston, I will be at the museum late today. Later than normal, could you meet me in my office at noon? I will have a light lunch delivered for us and we can continue our work. I hope to see you there, you are a welcome mind to speak with. I need logic right now, not hocus pocus. Sincerely, Lady Munn.

Egyptian Museum: The museum was quiet, the place not opening for another hour to the public. Yet even though it was quiet the staff was beginning to show up and do their morning routines. Daily morning cleaning was already underway, floors were cleaned, artifacts and cases dusted. The curator glad for the peace though he wondered why all the mess in Lady Munn's office, it was not like her. He had tried contacting her at her hotel this morning but apparently she had not stayed there the night before. A little worried he had put out word to find her, with everything that happened the night before in the city he hoped she was not caught up in it - or the cause of it because of her clumsiness.

Train Station: The train had arrived just a short time ago and people were started to depart from it. The station was crowded with people running this way and that. People off loading, people on loading. Taxi's were parked out front and there were many vendors there selling food, trinkets, maps, offering their services as translators and guides. It was a tourist trap and one had to be careful not to lose their wallet with all the street urchins running around and bumping into people. It was your usual morning in Cairo, minus the headlines - Murder at The Grand Continental: Escape Convict Captured: Two Suspects Still Loose - Apparently the local news paper had gotten wind of a story and they were running with it.

---

---

---

---

---

Mosi took a deep breath and soon afterwards a huge smile appeared on her face, she was in Cairo finally! The journey was long and not completely pleasant all the way, but she did arrive in the end and that was all that mattered! The station was crowded with people now that a train had arrived. She had her huge suitcase that she held with both her hands to move about and still barely did it. Those forging tools did weight a lot coupled with all the clothes and so on.

Her wallet was in her front pocket at the side where she held the suitcase as she moved slowly about, heading out of the train station. She noticed the literal tourist trap that existed in the location. This was very interesting for her, reminding her at some carnivals that she had been to back in America. Those were good times, but the present was here and this was her new life at least for the moment. She had to find lodging for the time being and would only get time to spend afterwards. In passing she noticed the newspaper headlines.” It seems I missed things happening by a day.” She smiled, heading towards the taxis. Grand Continental was one of her possible lodging places, she wondered if she should just head there because of this event, but decided it would be better to go visit as many places as possible.

Luck was on her side it seemed as she found herself a taxi driver who spoke English, with a smile she asked to be taken to the Shepheards Hotel that was supposed to be on the way towards Grand Continental. The sun was shining... She looked up for just a moment, pulling her cowboy hat and putting it on.” Let's go, please.” She stated with a smile, getting in the taxi after dealing with the luggage.

---

---

Lauren went to close the door to her room for a moment and headed over towards the mirror in the room, looking at herself in the mirror she reached into her purse pulling out a hair brush. Her hair was slightly messy from the bedhead, Lauren started to run it through her hair making sure that she got enough of the tangles out of her hair. That's when she heard a knock on the door, setting the comb back into her purse Lauren turned and made her way over towards the door once more seeing the steward letting her know that breakfast was being served. Lauren gave him a slight smile and nod, as she started to head out of the room following shortly behind him until she was by the officer's lounge.

She was then led out onto a veranda overlooking the Nile taking in the fresh air Lauren looked over at the river, it was peaceful she looked over at some of the other officers, before spotting Aziza. Lauren grabbed herself a plate and then started to fill the it with a mix of local and British cuisine. Then Lauren made her way over towards the table Aziza was sitting at, glad to see that her friend was alright. "Good morning." Lauren said and gaze Aziza a quick hug before sitting down across from her. "How are you and did you sleep alright. And are you alright?" Lauren finally asked.

---

---

---

---

Nora's eyes darted upwards as she heard the knock on the door. The knock was followed by another a moment later, and while Nora was expecting Neema's return, she felt a soft bit of paranoia. Perhaps it was the doctor from the night before, returned to berate her and to place her into confinement for delusional behavior. Perhaps it was her father, here to accomplish the same task, for the doctor had maybe informed him that night. She took in a deep breath and opened the door a crack, before smiling as she saw it was Neema. Her fears dissipated.

She opened the door all of the way and stepped aside, as to allow Neema to enter her set of rooms. The tray the woman was carrying had breakfast and tea, a British staple, as well as a letter. While she could not help but be curious as to the letter, and wonder if it was the summons from Lady Munn, she had more pressing questions all the same. She could not but hope that Neema would have some answers for the strange dreams that had befallen her. The three prior nights she had had the same dream with a haunting intensity--and suddenly, the night after the brand, the dream changed entirely. She knew no mathematical formula to explain.

"Thank you for coming," Nora said, in her usual soft and quiet voice. "I am indebted to you, Neema, and I must ask that you have breakfast with me." She paused a bit, pondering whether or not to mention the dreams yet, but she figured that honesty would be the best. The truth had always been her guide. "I must confess, I have some dreams that I would like to discuss with you, for I do not quite understanding their meaning or their purpose...if that would be quite alright."

---

---

Josephine was not happy to be in this situation, but beggars couldn't be choosers at any rate. So she dolled herself up, fixed her hair, and changed into her clothes as a knock came at her door. She opened it to see her escort to breakfast. She had to admit, she was quite hungry and could do well with some food in her. She followed the man to where the food was. She saw all the other soldiers helping themselves to the spread. While it wasn't a five-star dining experience, it was the best she was going to get.

She saw Aziza as she entered and gave the woman a small wave "Hello darling! Let me get some things and I'll join you." Josephine helped herself to some of the spread and took a cup of tea for herself. She made her way over to Aziza and sat down. "There we are. The food looks delicious. Are you just having a cup of tea, darling? You'll need more than that in you, especially today." Josephine scooted her plate closer to the woman, indicating she was willing to share with her. While if it was someone else, she wouldn't have dared offer, but Aziza quickly grew on her and she couldn't help herself but want the best for her. It was so...unlike her really.

---

---

Thoughts; thoughts bouncing back and forth inside his mind, clear pictures of actions and readable words floating through his head covered Haakon's attention so thourougly, that he felt as if he jumped a few feet up from the bed he was sitting in when he heard the door. Haakon didn't register at first what this all meant, but he soon realized that it was quite simple and harmless; breakfast. The guard was there to bring them down to the officer's area, where they would be allowed to eat. On queue, his stomach gave an audible rumble. And so Haakon stood up from the bed and joined the others who made their way down.

The mass of military personel was for once a welcoming sight after the dream Haakon had just had, but knowing that such thoughts were utter nonsense and that no real threat could come to them - he hoped -, he picked out a various assortment of breakfast-foods; mostly bread, eggs and a little cheese, and joined the others he actually recognized from the day before. "God morgen, morgenfugler. May I join your company, ladies?" Haakon asked the small group of women, though his gaze landed on Aziza last as the others finished their questions. "Miss Tarek, I hope you're faring better this morning. I, eh, I would like to apologize for anything I might have done to...cause what occured last night. Whatever it was, I'm deeply sorry, Miss, and you have my assurance that whatever it was, it shall not happen again."

---

---

---

---

---

The older man returned the embrace of his nephew, giving him a couple of good-natured slaps to his back before ushering him inside. "Rough night, my boy? Seems to be frightfully catching." He seemed to be in remarkably good spirits, despite his own lack of decent sleep and the fact that he received troubling news via his legal clerk just that morning. "I must confess a tactful lack of higher knowledge, concerning all of this dream business. As I understand, we've all had rather strange phenomena occur to us; that is to say, all of the persons in our dysfunctional little Fellowship. "Find me in Cairo", and whatnot..."

Reginald closed the door behind them. "Tea and breakfast in a moment. I have two matters to share, if you would, Peter. The first - I don't suppose that your dream involved armies of inhuman beasts having at one another before your heart was removed rather spectacularly, was it?" He seemed a little excited speaking of it. Maybe more than a little.

"But that's really more of a discussion for Vera. The second item at hand..." he thought very carefully about the news from his clerk. This was a local military matter, and Reginald's family or not, despite his own involvement in the situation, a line might be crossed were Peter to be directly involved in the process at this point. "Well, unless you are officially one of my officers, I have to pass it by legal forthwith, and then we may discuss at length. Suffice it to say, the issue related to last evening has wiggled a bit. It shall be handled in-house. Please pay it no appreciable notice until after I have cleared you for intelligence. God and His Majesty willing, that should be later this morning."

The Lord Major picked his paperwork from the table nearby and marked a place with a slip of paper. He slid it back into the manila envelope and tucked it under his arm.

"Ah, it's great to have you back, Peter!" he exclaimed. "Now, breakfast?"