Ptolemy sighed and leaned back in his chair as he finally closed the notebook for the last time. The last entry had almost taken it all out of him, it had taken eight generations, but the family's goal was finally complete. He couldn't help but feel a little unfulfilled though, he couldn't have his children in the house, and he'd basically had to hide them from Menes, but at least they were out there, somewhere, their mothers taking good care of them. Running a hand over his face, he picked up the notebook and wandered downstairs.
"Hey Mom."
Cleo smiled up at him from the couch and motioned him down, her son obliging her by planting a kiss on her cheek. "All finished?" she asked him, eyes drifting toward the notebook.
"Yeah, just trying to find Menes."
"I think he's out in the garden."
Ptolemy gave her a smile and went outside, trying to find Menes. He finally caught a bit of movement in his ancestor's garden, and he hung over the railing, waving the notebook a little, "It's finished."
The old man stopped tending his garden, frozen for a moment, before finally turning around, ancient eyes staring deep into his soul. "I feel no different," he glared at the youngest of the clan.
"Well, it's done," snapped Ptolemy, tossing the book to him, "Believe it or not, I don't care." He stalked back inside the house, leaving Menes in his garden.
"Ptolemy!" cried Seti, the rest of the group sobbing, "You came back inside just in time!"
"In time for...?" Ptolemy started, but glanced to where everyone was looking, "MOM!"
His mother's ghost smiled and put a hand on his cheek, "Don't worry son, it was supposed to happen this way. We'll see each other again, I promise."
The youngest Pharoah cried as hard as he could, but that was only the beginning. One by one, the family surrounding him slowly withered away, fading into dust and shadow like his mother had just done. He stood there, alone, grief-stricken, until the door slowly opened. Menes stood there with murder in his eyes, "I was supposed to happen to me too."
"I don't care! They're all dead, what's it matter?"
"THAT WAS THE POINT!" Menes roared, shaking Ptolemy a little, "SO I COULD FINALLY DIE!"
Ptolemy growled and punched the family's patriarch, "I just saw everyone important to me die in front of my face. What makes you think I care about you?"
Menes' dark eyes darkened even further, and before he knew it, something heavy came down on Ptolemy's head.
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It was dark out, and he couldn't move his arms and legs. Well, he could wiggle them a little, but not much. Someone was grumbling a little ways away from him, at least he thought so, it sounded like the other person was in a tunnel. Ptolemy slowly opened his eyes against his pounding headache, trying to remember what happened. Oh, Menes had knocked him out! The man growled and tried to escape from his capture, but to no avail. He was locked into the Gyro in the yard, and Menes was operating it.
"Well, at least Ramses was good for something," Menes told him, locking their gaze.
"What are you doing?!" Ptolemy yelled, trying to escape.
"You're going to fix this. I need to die!" Menes snapped, "I don't know where you'll end up, but you'd better do it all right, because I will find you if you don't!"
"Menes, no!" Ptolemy's voice faded away as the other man flipped the switch. It went faster and faster, getting brighter and brighter, until he couldn't keep his eyes open anymore.
His last conscious thought was of his children, and how he would never see them again...
To be continued....
