World War Four

7

A man with darker skin and ebony hair greeted me at the door. Hassan still kept the customary Middle-Eastern facial hair style and gave me a smile and a wave as I arrived back to his Saudi Arabian home after a long and irritating flight. My flight was delayed for two days because of the recent crash that I was in! You'd think they would've been kinder to the victims, but no, they had said "Our officials are delaying this flight in case another missile strikes an airplane." But none did. As I opened the door, sand from the Arabian Desert filled his house, so I quickly stepped in and closed the door behind me. I released a sigh.

"Xavier! How was Paris? I see you got your briefcase back. Was the returner kind?" Hassan said without a single pause in his deep, raspy voice and French accent. He took a deep breath and continued. "Was Paris any worse since the last time you've been there? Did you--"

"Enough with the questions, Hassan. I've not been having a great day. Or week, for that matter. What I need right now is a deep sleep and the speech I sent you over email ready to be broadcasted all over Fran--Paysdemort, I mean,--by tomorrow morning," I said with obvious irritation and fatigue. I began to make my way to the all-too-familiar guest room, turning my back on the Arab.

"Of course, Xavier." Hassan regained his usual cool, calm, and collected state. "Your requests should be granted." He watched me make my way up the stairs to the second floor, his voice trailing away as I made my ascent. "Mohammad, you heard him, get the speech..."

The guest room was a light beige color, well suited to the bright sunlight of the Arabian Peninsula. The sheets and blanket were lightly colored as well, probably to protect aginst overheating. To my dismay, there was nothing dark in the room. At all. In my American home, I surrounded myself with dark objects--mainly because I'd like to think that the dark colors match my soul quite well. Also, things that are much too light give me a major headache. I probably would've been in pain if it weren't the middle of the night, so I left that problem for the morning. I walked over to the off-white mattress without changing into any kind of sleepwear and climbed into bed. I was asleep before my eyes even had the chance to close.

Nightmares haunted my sleep. Nightmares of death, destruction, disarray. A snake as massive as the City of Paris slithered through the air, hissing in delight. It's green scales glinted in the fading light as it crashed through the city. Destruction and death followed it. It ran over people on the streets of Paris, toppled buildings, and devoured automobiles. Suddenly, the city faded to gray until everything was colorless except the horrid thing causing destruction. The name for the snake was on the tip of my tongue. I knew what it was, I just couldn't place it. However, as soon as the snake laid its glittering, malice-filled eyes on me, I remembered. Apophis. The Egyptian snake of Chaos. In its reflective eyes, I saw myself, but not myself at the same time.

My face looked the same, with my usual boring brown hair and hazel eyes that weren't absolutely horrible. I wondered why I couldn't have anything interesting, like blonde hair, blue eyes, or red hair, green eyes. But no, I was stuck with brown and brown. But that's beside the point. What really shocked me was the fact that a huge, golden disk surrounded my head, wreathing it in an ethereal light. The shadow of a hawk's head covered mine, translucent and frightening. I remembered them! They were the signs of Ra if I could remember my Egyptian mythology correctly.

I then realized. It was a metaphor. I would be the one to rid not only Paysdemort of Chaos but the whole world, too. Just as Ra did to Apophis, I would slay Chaos and bring Order to the world once again! But I had forgotten one thing. In Egyptian mythology, Ra had never slain Apophis. No, he had only been able to hold him off for the daytime. But in Ra's journey through the Underworld every night, Apophis would return again to fight Ra. But nonetheless, Greek mythology is not true, it is just a very interesting aspect of culture in history.