Black Butler: Sands of Eternity

The Immortal Princess Prologue

Neitha was the only daughter of Pharaoh Amenrekh and Queen Seraphi, rulers beloved for their wisdom and kindness. At the tender age of nine, Neitha's world was upended when her mother fell victim to a mysterious and incurable illness. The royal healers and priests were powerless, and whispers of divine punishment swept through the palace.

Each passing day, Neitha watched her mother's vitality wane. Yet despite her suffering, Queen Seraphi always held Neitha's hand, comforting her with stories of the gods. "Life and death are but two sides of the same journey, my little lotus," her mother would say. "But the journey is easier when you are not alone."

Neitha prayed fervently to the gods for a cure, but none came. Her desperation drew her to the Temple of Nephthys, the goddess of mourning and protector of the dead. In a moment of grief, Neitha performed a forbidden ritual, offering her own life force in exchange for her mother's solace in the afterlife. She placed an offering of alabaster incense and lotus flowers before Nephthys's altar, and with trembling hands, recited an incantation inscribed on the walls of the temple.

The air grew heavy with divine presence. Nephthys appeared, her shadowy form radiating both sorrow and grace. She commended Neitha's bravery and selflessness, but the goddess explained that such a gift could not undo death. Instead, Nephthys offered Neitha a choice:

Let her mother pass into the afterlife alone.Bind her soul to her mother's, granting her immortality so they would never be parted.

Without hesitation, Neitha chose the second path. She was warned that immortality came with great responsibility and pain, as she would walk the earth long after her kingdom faded to dust. Yet, Neitha's love for her mother outweighed all fear.

Through the power of Nephthys, Neitha became a lich—a guardian of the dead and a bridge between the living and the afterlife. Her aging slowed to a mortal pace to preserve her ability to blend with humanity, but she was now a being tethered to eternity. Her once-vibrant heart grew still, replaced by the quiet hum of divine magic.

Though Neitha remained at her mother's side until her final breath, her role as a lich meant she could not follow her into the Field of Reeds, the Egyptian paradise. Her immortality was a bond to protect the living and honor the dead.

At seventeen, Neitha roams the world, guided by an innate sense of those who desecrate the dead or disrupt the balance of life. She wears a scarab pendant gifted by Nephthys, a symbol of her eternal duty. Though burdened by her role, Neitha carries herself with the grace of a princess, embodying both the wisdom of her ancestors and the strength of a protector.

England- Year 1843

Alois Trancy paced the dimly lit hallways of Trancy Manor, his bare feet whispering against the cold, tiled floor. His volatile moods had carried him here, deep into the manor's labyrinthine underbelly. Claude Faustus followed at a measured pace, his gloved hands clasped neatly before him, a picture of calm.

"You said there was something interesting down here, Claude," Alois said, his voice sharp with impatience. "You'd better not disappoint me!"

"Your Highness," Claude began, his tone devoid of inflection, "what lies below is a relic acquired by the late Lord Trancy. It has remained undisturbed until now."

The young earl's piercing blue eyes narrowed. "Undisturbed, you say? Show me."

They stopped before an iron-wrought door, its surface tarnished with age. Claude produced a brass key from his coat and unlocked it. The door groaned open, revealing a chamber illuminated by flickering torches. The air was thick with the scent of decay and ancient dust.

At the center of the room stood a grand sarcophagus, its surface engraved with hieroglyphs and adorned with faintly shimmering gold. Alois approached, his hand hesitating over the intricate carvings.

"A mummy?" he asked, wrinkling his nose. "How grotesque... but also exciting!"

"Not a mummy, Your Highness," Claude corrected, stepping forward. "This sarcophagus contains something—or someone—far more unique. Shall I open it?"

Alois nodded, his usual bravado faltering for a moment. Claude's white-gloved hands moved with precision, unsealing the lid and sliding it aside.

Inside lay a figure as striking as the desert dawn. A young woman, her skin a radiant gold that gleamed even in the dim light, lay undisturbed. Her black hair fell in glossy waves around her shoulders, and her closed eyes gave her an appearance of serene slumber. She wore traditional Egyptian attire, her garments embroidered with symbols of the gods. A scarab pendant rested against her chest, glowing faintly with a subtle, otherworldly light.

Alois gasped, his earlier bravado giving way to awe. "She's beautiful..."

As if in response to his words, the air around them grew heavy, and a sudden gust extinguished the torches. Alois staggered back, clutching Claude's arm.

"Claude! What's happening?"

The scarab pendant flared, its light casting eerie shadows across the chamber. Slowly, the girl's eyes opened, revealing irises the green of Nile reeds. She sat up with a fluid grace, her movements otherworldly yet regal. Her gaze swept the room, lingering on Alois before settling on Claude.

"Who dares disturb my rest?" she asked, her voice a melodic blend of authority and weariness.

Alois, recovering his composure, stepped forward, pointing a finger at her. "I'm the master of this manor! Who are you?"

The girl tilted her head, studying him with an intensity that made him squirm. "I am Neitha, daughter of Pharaoh Amenrekh. This land is far from my kingdom, yet I remain bound to this world by the will of the gods."

Claude interjected smoothly, his tone respectful yet detached. "Lady Neitha, you were brought here long ago as a... prized acquisition. It seems the previous lord had a penchant for collecting rarities."

Neitha's expression darkened. "A collector's item?" She stood, her presence commanding despite her slight frame. "I am no trinket to be owned."

Alois, despite himself, felt a twinge of admiration. "You've got spirit," he said, smirking. "I like that."

Neitha turned her gaze back to him. "And who are you, boy, to claim ownership of this place?"

"I'm Alois Trancy," he declared, puffing out his chest. "And you're in my house now!"

Neitha's lips curved into a faint, enigmatic smile. "A child playing king. How quaint."

Alois bristled. "Claude! Say something!"

Claude, unperturbed, inclined his head toward Neitha. "Your Highness, Lady Neitha's presence may offer... advantages, should she choose to remain."

Neitha crossed her arms, her golden skin glowing faintly in the dim light. "Remain? And for what purpose?"

Alois stepped closer, his earlier indignation replaced by curiosity. "Maybe you'll find it entertaining. This place could use someone interesting, and you certainly fit the bill."

Neitha regarded him for a moment, her green eyes unblinking. "We shall see, little master. But do not mistake my presence for servitude."

Alois huffed but found himself oddly intrigued by her. As they ascended from the chamber, the dynamic between the three remained uncertain—a fragile balance of curiosity, defiance, and unspoken potential.