Harry Walsh
Location: Qasr El Nil Barracks
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.
~x~
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 Drake
Location: Qasr El Nil District - National Hotel
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.
~x~
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?
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