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Strand of Fate (IC)


Supercape

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Half dragging by a wrist the incoherent guard, Weaver followed Al-Hakim in the Sphinx corridors. Neither of them remembered exactly the way out, and the guard was less then useless. They spent several minutes in the increasingly narrow and suffocating monument, up until a hint of claustrophobia caught them. When they were just about to lose hope a French-speaking voice emerged from behind a corner, followed by a dozen of tourists. Saeid snapped his finger and his shirt re-buttoned itself, hiding he Weaver costume. He approached the guide and said to him, in English initially, then starting anew in Arabic, before realizing that the guide probably understood English as well “This man… we found him back there… I think he hit his head, or maybe got sunstroke outside… he needs medical help.†he pointed at Al-Hakim, holding the hand of the guard whose eyes were gazing into emptiness.

After leaving the stunned guard with his colleagues, Saeid grabbed the professor’s arm to avoid losing him in the monument, and silently waited for the guide to finish his tour and get out. He squinted at the sun, looking for a stand where to buy some fresh water and regroup for a moment.

"Professor... do you feel alright?" it was half-rhetorical, but he hoped Al-Hakim already had a similar experience and knew how to deal with it.

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GM

"Professor... do you feel alright?"

"I live" said the Professor in a hollow, empty voice, his voice cracked not just from dryness.

"Although something happened in there, something awful, terrible, and magnificent. I saw..." he trailed off.

"Well, I don't imagine I will ever look at life quite the same again" he finished, giving a weak smile "everything just seems so distant now..."

As the Professor talked, Saeid caught sight of the beggar he had been trailing. No outside of the Sphinx compound, the scrawny man had apparently been let go.

"You..." said the Beggar, sidling up to them and speaking in broken English. "You are Professor, from America, yes? and you..." he continued pointing to Saeid with a bony finger.

"You are weaver? special weaver make...magic?" he asked in his faltering tounge.

"I am Ahmed" said by way of introduction "I know about weavers...they saying me mad, but I know!"

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What? I thought I did such a good job hiding my identity... but this man knows it from across the ocean? Ooooh… Saeid looked up at the beggar that he had avoided a few moments before… though it seemed as if it happened two years ago: his head was still very, very lost in the sensation of infinity.

He answered in English “Yes, I… just lower your voice, please…†he stopped, then repeated the sentence in Arabic “We can speak your tongue, we both understand it just fine.†He looked around to see if nobody was paying attention to the beggar talking about magic, then gestured to his side inviting the beggar to sit with them.

“Hello Ahmed. I’m Saeid and… well, yes I am a “special†sort of weaver, since it seems you already know.†he took a sip from the bottled water – warmer than he had hoped “How do you know that, by the way?â€

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GM

"I know lots of things" replied the Beggar, touching his nose.

"Years ago, I was part of a tribe of nomads. I remember badly, I was only young, but I remember another tribe, the weavers, they came, and they used powerful magic. My tribe...pffft!"

He said this with bulging eyes and venom, kissing his hand and exploding it, indicating a tribe lost to the winds.

"Gone! and the Weavers, left me in Ciaro, with a brutal master, who beat me every day. He was a drunkard old man, a weaver himself, but a normal one, who just played with the cloth of this earth, not others. I ran away as a young man, have to beg to eat! but I never forget the weavers of fate! never!"

He gritted his teeth.

"Now, I have studied them, studied there magic, their touch, their destinies. And I smell it on you. You are touched, yes? beware them! they interfere with destiny! they will own you, and your family!!!"

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Saeid stood in silence for a few seconds after the beggar’s tirade. He was having problems processing information – his head wasn’t responding as usual: he kept dozing off, lost in the sensation of infinite he had experienced.

When he finally realized what the man was saying, he was astonished. “I… I thank you for your advice, Ahmed. I am very sorry to hear about your misfortune, but I think I am going to need to know more.†He paused for a second. Am I supposed to offer him money? This seems genuine, not just a way of getting a few coins, but…

He shook his head “This… “weaver tribe†you speak of, they might know something very important to me. I get that they can be dangerous, yes, but so can I.†he felt his determination growing by the second. Even among the threads and strands extending in front of his eyes, stood a central, fixed point: his wife and their baby.

“So yes, I have weaver magic. If you help me… if you can tell me more about this tribe, and how is it related to what you smelled about me – I may be able to offer you some justice. What do you say?â€

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GM

“So yes, I have weaver magic. If you help me… if you can tell me more about this tribe, and how is it related to what you smelled about me – I may be able to offer you some justice. What do you say?â€

"Very hard to know!" replied the beggar. "Very hard. Very mysterious. Never seen, never heard, always in the background. You know, like a secret society!"

He kept his body bent in deference to Weaver.

"But I have found out much! They are everywhere, and date back to the time of ancient kings and ancient empires of Egypt, maybe further too. The first civilisations, they were there. Perhaps even before! Now, they are here, there, but very few in number. Like a spiders web..."

He was sounding feverish in his explanation.

"But it began with the kings. Down the Nile, secret places, tomb's. They are there still. And I think they are watching you already? yes? they watch the Pyramids, the Sphinx. I am sure of it! Hidden places are there...perhaps you already have seen one of their secret places?"

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“I definitely think so.†Weaver shivered once more remembering the sanity-shattering sensation he was subject of in the hidden chamber of the Sphinx.

“We entered a secret chamber in the Sphinx to retrieve… something... something that the professor needed for his research.†he bit his tongue just in time, realizing he was being maybe a bit too trusting. However the beggar seemed sincere, and his mind wasn’t anywhere near the healthy state necessary for the witty verbal fencing he used to tell half-truths.

“So, do you think they already know about me because of my visit to this secret chamber? Do you think they are here, watching us right now?â€

While waiting for the answer, he reached out to Arug Stay hidden near the rooftops. Look if someone is watching me he ordered to the magical rug.

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GM

"They see everything!" replied the Beggar, rolling his eyes in a full circle. Weaver got the distinct impression that the two eyes did not track in precise alignment, as if they were acting independently.

"You managed to enter one of their secret places?" he asked, this time grabbing Weaver by his clothes. The man did not smell good, and his threadbare rags looked positively hazardous in terms of health.

"A place which is here, but not here? tell me, how did you do it? could you do it again???" he looked wilder and wilder.

"I know of a place, a place that has a place behind it, but I cannot enter..." he whispered, conspiratorially "...we can enter, yes???"

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“We could…†replied Weaver “I think I could repeat the passage. However I am not eager to, definitely not unless you tell me moreâ€. He placated the excitement of the beggar by gently putting a hand on his forearm and pushing him back “We got into a secret place inside the Sphinx, but it was very stressful, and we haven’t recovered yet from what happened.†He checked on the professor sitting beside him in silence, to see how he was doing. “Frankly, I don’t know if I’ll ever recover completely.â€

Weaver fixed his eyes on the beggar’s uneven ones. He tried the most trustworthy and soothing voice he could manage “Listen, Ahmed, you are being tremendously helpful, and I think we have a chance of offering you justice by dealing with those weavers of fate. At the same time, we could accomplish what me and the professor came here for, something that I care so deeply, so completely, that to solve it I am prepared to suffer another shock like the one I just received and much, much worse.â€

“But you have to understand, I can’t follow you, I can’t help you, unless you tell me what we are looking for and how it is going to help. Please, friend. Tell me.â€

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GM

"But you have to understand, I can’t follow you, I can’t help you, unless you tell me what we are looking for and how it is going to help. Please, friend. Tell me.â€

"I don't know myself..." replied Ahmed, both enigmatically and emphatically.

"If nothing else, they are mysterious. And powerful. I have survived by being nobody, a beggar, with no import in the world. If you come under there gaze, then woe betide you! that...is when they start interfering...they slaughtered my whole tribe when I was barely old enough to walk. And that, my friend, is the very least of their interfering. They can raise kings, and depose them just as easily!"

He snapped his fingers to emphasise his point.

"Do you want them adjusting your fate? or are you master of your own?"

"And then.." he said, fingering Weavers clothes "...somehow, they have learned the art of weaving, of cloth, of threads and fibre, beyond that of the material world. Flying carpets? ha! the very tip of their handiwork! but this is how they work, my friend, through cloth!"

He fingered his own rags.

"Why do you think I wear such rags? so they have no power over me! Threabare, I call myself, and it is in this manner I rule my own fate, and will have my vengeance!"

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Weaver stood silence, the enormity of what he was about to begin had just hit him. If only half of what the beggar was saying was factually true, then he may have to face a threat never even conceived before in his brief career as a hero. He had lived through the Gorgon Invasion, but that was mayhem and chaos and danger. Punch the bad guys, send them back to the stars. This? This was conspiracy, and strings being pulled, and not knowing about your enemy.

It may have been a consequence of the belief-shattering experience with the scroll, it may have been the steadfast resolve coming from the knowledge that his family was in peril.

It may have been dehydration and a little sunstroke.

But the words of the beggar had stirred up in him a desire of seeing this matter to the end, to give a little peace of mind to that poor soul covered in rags, and to ensure the safety of his son by taking on these conspirators.

“If they catch me, they’ll rewrite my fate. I get it†he smiled the incautious smile of the youth ready to jump down a 30-feet cliff just for the adrenaline rush. “I guess all I have to do is not get caught.â€

“Ahmed, you clearly have a starting point, otherwise you wouldn’t have contacted me. I accept that you lack extensive information, but you said something about another place which is here, but it’s not. Tell me about this place, where it is.â€

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GM

"South!" replied Threadbare, pointing, indeed, Southwards, if Weaver had any sense of direction.

"Down the Nile. Deep down the Nile, and into the desert!" he whispered, leaning close to Weaver "then east, toward's the sun, and there, an old settlement, an outpost, scratching a living in rock and sun. But really, a door, a mirage, to the palace of the weavers!" he hissed.

"We must go there, but be aware, their eyes are everywhere, you must be a nothing, a nobody, they can smell importance. They can smell your cloth!" he said, fingering Weavers rich clothes.

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Saeid thought for a full minute before answering – he didn’t foresee a power such as the one Ahmed hinted at – he had dove into the idea of taking on the weavers of fate with light mind.

“Very well. I said that I would help you and I would.†He told the Threadbare “But I’ll have to arrange some preparations. The best way of proceeding is to meet again in a day or two.â€

He turned to look at al-Hakim “Professor, what do you have to say on the matter? Do you feel secure enough to rest a bit and start the studies on that scroll in the next days? Do you think we’ve been immunized to that… hypnosis, that vision?†he watched carefully to be sure that the professor was answering of sane mind, and not still lost in the sensation of insanity experimented before. “Unless you want to come with us, but I’m guessing it’s going to be risky…â€

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GM

The Professor nodded at Weaver, but he was captured, sucked in, by the whole thing.

"Risky, yes, but I feel safer with you beside me!" he replied.

"My friend, I am an old man. Not finished yet, but I know I have considerably fewer years in front of me than behind me. And at my age, well, I do not embrace death, but it looses its sting, shall we say. And before me is a mystery greater than I have ever known. I am not so old I will be a burden, and I may even be of some use. No. I cannot but go. Hah...perhaps the mysterious folk of our threadbare friends tongue would say it is my fate to go, hmmm?"

The Professor was indeed not going to take no for an answer.

"I can handle some of the preparations. It depends on our plan, how to reach this dusty village. By Car? By the Nile? By Camel? Or do you have a flying carpet? From what this man say's, it seems that the use of more...ostentatious modes of transport will draw their eyes to us, if they are not on us already..."

With that, he shifted his eyes over the surroundings. Something about Threadbare's ramblings, and the mind-shattering experience of the scroll, were enough to make anybody paranoid...

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Saeid gave a nodded to the professor and patted him on the shoulder “If that is your will, I won’t deprive you of this adventure.â€

We shall see if he’s still of the same frame of mind when the shock from the scroll fades.

“As for our transportation, we’ll use the carpet alright… just not in the way you think – and I hope definitely not in the way the weavers of fate expect!†a crooked smile appeared on his face “Let’s arrange transportation in the fastest conventional way. I’m guessing boats down the Nile and then a jeep? I trust your judgment on this regard, professor. I also think we should get provisions, maps and other gear to venture into the desert – I think this hidden place is far from normal touristic routes.â€

“What about the scroll? Do you think we have time to give it a look – with every precaution, of course – before leaving Cairo? We should at least make digital copies and e-mail one of them at your Department in the University – and possibly to Dr. Eldritch too.â€

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GM

“What about the scroll? Do you think we have time to give it a look – with every precaution, of course – before leaving Cairo? We should at least make digital copies and e-mail one of them at your Department in the University – and possibly to Dr. Eldritch too.â€

"Don't you worry about that!" replied the Professor. I will be making more than a couple of copies of this treasure, and e mails are most definitely on the menu. Just because I am a Professor of ancient history, doesn't mean I can't use this modern technology!"

Early Next Morning...

Sleep was disturbed and nightmarish, but waking, the world seemed that little bit more normal, although the memories of that scroll would never go.

The Nile Ship "Alexander" was ready to go, a small vessel used by tourists, who lolled about onboard. It was big enough to have cabins and serve food, but it was still small compared to the larger cruise ships.

"Suits our needs" said the Professor "My only concern is how to get our beggar friend down the Nile with us. He says he can make his own way down, in his own manner. And despite his shattered mind, I suspect he is resourceful enough to do so. I just wonder if he should not come with us..."

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“It would look suspicious, traveling in his company, but I agree… I’d rather not split up – especially since he’s our only possible guide. When he joins us later for the last details, I’ll try to convince him to accept some decent clothes and take the ship with us – though I foresee some problems in making him wear anything but those rags. If I’m unsuccessful in persuading him, we’ll be forced to give in –most likely he won’t be accepted on the ship as he is, and I can’t risk upsetting him by forcing him to do something he doesn’t wish to.â€

“So, since you arranged everything… how long should it take to descend down the Nile? I have a small diversion in mind, and I’m likely going to need time and privacy to set it up – and it will task my endurance, so I’ll need some time to rest, too .â€

“And what about the scroll? Did you manage to catch a glimpse, some bit that might prove helpful maybe, while digitalizing it? â€

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GM

"Never!" replied Ahmed.

"Don't you understand? The fateweavers have their eye on me! I escaped! I do everything I can to avoid their gaze!"

He hopped from one foot to another.

"There must be another way! Smuggle me onboard! Otherwise, I am taking a camel!...you...can buy me a camel can't you?"

The Professor sighed and pulled Weaver to one side.

"I can indeed buy him a camel. My funds are not unlimited, but should serve for purpose" he explained "it's your call, my friend. Either way poses both risk and advantage, and both are open to us. As for the scroll, I have begun deciphering it. Everything points to the existence of these weavers of fate, although exactly what they do, or how they operate, remains a mystery. There are allusions to them being servants of Logos. The only thing I can say with any certainty is that they are powerful, and do indeed use cloth as a method of magic. They may well be the origin of flying carpets, but we shall never know..."

"And one more thing, I think they are interested in your unborn. There are references to a master weaver, in the land beyond the ocean, a man who knows the arcane ways of the cloth but is not a weaver of fate. He shall sire a child that will influence the fates...or not, but that's how fate works I imagine. Whatever, the fateweavers seem to think this child is of the utmost importance, perhaps a messiah, perhaps...the opposite. I cannot decipher the cryptic messages..."

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Saeid rubbed his temples – this expedition wasn’t starting in the best of ways, and his head still ached from the traumatizing exposure to the scroll.

“Very well. I don’t like doing this here more than I would like it back home, but I’m guessing we’ll need to… lubricate the ship’s crew and captain to take Ahmed onboard – we are almost directionless without him, and though he may seem resourceful, I’d rather keep an eye on him…â€

He took out his wallet “I am not without funds either; in case the captain gets greedy… or worse yet, if he takes us for fools.†He glanced at the docked ship, hoping the travel wouldn’t take too long. "Don't esitate to call me if the latter happens, I'll be happy to help with my finances, in addiction to my skills."

“Oh, and don’t worry about having problems deciphering the scroll, my friend: from my experience in this sort of arcane things, the truth is never evident, not even when you have the whole text spelled out for you.†His grin turned into a stern scowl “Only one thing is sure: for people with millennia of experience, they should know better than to threaten a wizard’s child.â€

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GM

"Good afternoon gentlemen..." said the ticket attendant outside the Alexander.

The ship looked a little worn, but still dripped some elegance and artistry. It looked colonial, and rather old, and it was perhaps not the most sturdy of ships. Apparently, it housed

Twenty guests in the finest of spendours

As you sail down the nile and watch the ancient land steeped in the cultures

With finest cuisine and waiters, the bedrooms first of class

And tea!

The Professor and Ahmed shuffled beside Weaver, a few dozen yards away from the boarding platform. Ahmed was fairly...pungent in his rags.

In other words, he smelled bad.

"So, my friend" said the Professor, pushing his glasses back on his sweaty nose in the midday sun and fanning himself with the tour brouchure. "This is incognito, but our friend here...not so much. How do you propose we get him in...?"

He shuffled the three tickets in his hands nervously.

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“Put on your most respectable face, my friend†said Saeid to the professor “and keep Ahmed close and quiet – I know it would be hard, but it’s just for a few minutes.â€

Saeid put on his best salesman smile and produced the tickets from his pocket as he greeted with a firm handshake the officer overseeing the boarding process “As-salÄmu ‘alaykum, officer.†he bowed briefly and kept his voice as soothing as possible. “Here’s the tickets for our little party.†He pointed at the professor and Ahmed “Yes, yes, I know, it’s him, I know you want to talk to Mr. Hegazy, but please…†he laid a hand on the man’s arm, leaning in as if confiding a secret “as you may know, the most egregious philosopher just came back from his retire in the desert, where he lived and fasted for weeks. The experience – needless to say – opened up his mind to a whole new paradigm of thinking – something that could very well propel into the international scene the Cairo University Department of Philosophy – alma mater of Mohamed Nasef - Yes! Mr. Nasef who, I’m sure you know, could very well win the next elections in July.â€

The words danced out of Saeid’ tongue, mesmerizing the baffled officer. “We, as his colleagues, are very excited! Now, my good friend, I know it will be hard, but we would most certainly be grateful if you could help us keep his presence on board as much of a secret as possible.†his fingers slipped from the forearm to the hand of his interlocutor, and left there a fifty dollar bill “he’s going to be in his cabin, trying to entrap in paper the deepest thoughts, before they vanish. You want his next book to be a success, right?†Saeid’s smile was that of an old friend. “If the trip goes undisturbed, there could be more for you… and a coupon for the book, of course! And who knows - a good word with the University maybe, if you have kids...†he ended his pitch with a wink.

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GM

The ticket inspector gave a long look at the ragged beggar and then looked back at Saeid.

"Philosopher? Looks more like a beg..." he began, as Saeid stuffed the bill in his jacket.

"*Ahem* Looks like a philosopher to me...if ever I saw one" he said with a wink and a smile. He proceeded to let the trio on board.

"Get him a shower though, my friend, he smells so bad that there will be a fuss. And, I would stay away from the dinner reception on board tonight...too many questions..."

Later that night, in the cabin...

Ahmed had grumbled about his shower, but taken one anyway, using up an entire bar of soap and not taking off his rags.

"These rags are mine! They are my protection!" he insisted, without elaborating and looking more than slightly deranged when he said so.

A knock on the door came - the steward.

"Dinner is served in 5 minutes!" he announced "we would be delighted to serve you, finest Egyptian Cuisine! and Tea!"

"Excellent!" said Ahmen, dripping wet but (relatively) clean. "I haven't had a good meal in months. And can't fight an ancient cult on an empty stomach!"

With a smile on his face, and dripping soapy water, he marched towards the cabing door.

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“Wait, wait!†screamed Saeid as he jumped forward grabbing the beggar by the shoulder. “Ahmed, please, I’ll bring you the banquet of a king, but here, in the name of the Merciful.â€

He looked at the professor, with an imploring look. He leaned in and whispered to him in English “What do you say, we take turns making sure he stays locked in? The other guests didn’t see him, and it looks like the crew got my message along with my bribe… but if he starts making a ruckus, it would be very conspicuous.â€

“Are you ok with me going out to eat, maybe scout a bit the rest of the passengers – let’s hope we’re not being followed – then I’ll come back with dinner for our friend here and you can relax a bit yourself?â€

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GM

The professor nodded silently at Weaver's proposal.

Ahmed was rather both vexed and pleased at the same time. He was initially vexed at being cooped up, but then clapped his hands and rubbed them together gleefully.

"A banquet fit for a King you say? a King?" he gave a toothy grin, or rather a grin full of teeth and gaps.

The food was good, but not excellent. "Very satisfactory" concluded the Professor. To Ahmed, who looked like he had not had a square meal in years, it was a feast that he gorged himself on without hesitation or restraint.

The sun grew low and red, and eventually set on the banks on the Nile. The ship carried on, at a modest pace, gentle and quiet.

"I suggest we turn in now, we have a big day ahead of us" said the Professor, kicking of his shoes and waistcoat, tucking the urn under his pillow (and giving a careful eye on Ahmed) and settling down to slumber.

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Saeid wished good night to the professor and the beggar and went to bed himself, knowing that the following day would be the true start of their trouble. He had problems falling asleep: his mind kept jumping from the thought of his pregnant wife, to the vague and uncomfortable information Ahmed had given him about their enemies, to the sensation of emptiness and madness that he had experienced not two days ago.

He thought about his idea of making a puppet out of his clothes: imitating life it was a difficult kind of magic, and he spent almost an hour recalling all of his studies, trying to individuate and correct any flaw in the spell he had in mind. When he was satisfied, he decided it was time to put his mind at rest, for real this time.

Before closing his eyes, though, he reached out to Arug, wrapped under his bed. Go lay in front of the door. Keep guard during the night he told to his sleepless sidekick.

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