I Found

Prologue

The events of this story take place after The Mummy Returns.

Having taken refuge in the calmness of the High Priest's secret garden, I sat gently caressing the paper in my hands. My mind was half invested in the book, as the colourful nature around me took me back to a much challenging time. My thoughts hesitated for a moment. Should I really call it that? For I believe that until now my life had never been empty of challenges.

Rest and peace were never really meant for me. I suppose I should know that better than anyone, for I was a golden woman in the tan scorching Sahara - a person not meant to be told and only answered to the gods and the pharaoh of this great golden land.

Still, I had not always been in my place. I had not always owned a lot or anything for that matter. The start of this life - the previously mentioned cruel period of time - was definitely the toughest and most challenging experience I lived. Weren't all beginnings challenging?

Once, I was the daughter of a well-known dark haired Egyptian merchant. He had lived his life honestly with his wife and son. Then, his also dark haired wife birthed him a blonde daughter who killed her at birth. Driven by anger, something inside the father snapped that day. Because not only was he forced to raise his wife's bastard daughter, but he also had to do so without his wife, the apple of his eye.

The man turned cruel, leaving myself to only know stories of his old kindness from the servants who never looked at me in coldness as my father and my brother did. My brother was always distant. I never really knew him as I should have as his sister. But my father... I knew his force too well.

Each passing year made him colder. Every year on my birthday he killed more of the mercy in his heart. One year, he raised his hand upon me for the first time while my brother stared on blankly. His awful attitude and cruelty cost him much in the market. It made him lose many of his partners until one day as I watched him throw things around in anger, his head snapped to me. The swiftness of his movements were engraved into my memories, for suddenly he was shaking me with his hands on my shoulders, "It is you. It is all you. All your fault. All your fault. All your fault."

The following day, he had taken me and my brother to the palace, asking for audience with our great leader, King Seti. I thought I had known true humiliation before that day. Wrong.

Chained like a rabid animal, my father had me kneel before the pharaoh. Cruelty spilled out of his mouth in the form of words, eating at me. In my fear, I could only comprehend few of what was said.

"Witch."

"...hair not like anyone else in my family or her mother."

"Killed her mother."

"Cursed."

"Witch."

Though, I shook with fear, I could feel a pair of eyes staring at me in a different way than how everyone else was staring at me. The person's gaze urged me to look up.

So, I did.

My eyes, which held unshed tears, met brown eyes.

A stranger's eyes.

The high priest's eyes.

And for the first time in my young life, I begged. My eyes pleaded him to do something, for I could see the doubt in his eyes. I could see him noticing all the false facts in my father's story. I could see him point it out to himself but still remain silent. When he really noticed my gaze, he gave me a look which asked, "Is it true?"