Shadows of a Lost Mind, Chapter 1

Chapter One

Azzanadra hated pyramids.

Of course, that was generally common knowledge these days, considering there were very few people that didn't know about his four thousand year nap inside the Jaldraocht Pyramid. Everyone knew. Might as well just have Ali the Leaflet Dropper start handing out leaflets about it. Then the few people who actually didn't know would be informed.

He didn't really know why he was here, standing in front of the stupid, four-sided lump of stone that had held him captive for so long. All it was really doing was bringing up bad memories that he'd rather just keep repressed. But here he was. Why?

Well, the truth was really rather odd. He'd come not because he felt like being depressed and angry, or because he liked looking at the dumb thing because he thought it was nice, or even because he'd fancied a stroll in the desert… No, he'd come because he'd felt a call. Or something. He didn't really know what to call it. It was there, though, lurking in the back of his mind, just out of reach, unnamable and annoying. He could almost hear the spooky, ghostly voice going, "Aaaazzanaaaaadraaa…" Shudder.

Against his better judgment, he slowly climbed the long set of stairs that led up to the entrance to the horrible place. One foot, then the other, all the while wondering what the hell was wrong with him. Was this smart? Probably not. Was this going to get him into camel-loads of trouble? Knowing his luck, most likely. Was he doing it anyway? Well, whataya know… He was.

Moron, he told himself. Stop moving. Just… stay where you are. Turn around, even.

But, no surprise, it didn't do a thing. He was still making his way, one foot after the other, up the steps. Dumb, dumb, dumb…

He reached the top.

Now what? he wondered, and, hoping for the best, tried to turn around. No luck. His body just wouldn't listen to him.

Suddenly, knowing that he was defenseless against this… thing in his mind, he felt a terrible sense of fear and entrapment come over him. He was Azzanadra, the mightiest of all the mighty Mahjarrat, the bane of so many weak, pathetic people… and he couldn't do a thing to stop himself from opening this pyramid door. This was wrong. This was so wrong that he couldn't even begin to describe how wrong it was.

Teeth bared, a growl rising in his throat, he tried once again to turn around.

Move, fool!

Nothing.

And then his hand reached out, practically of its own accord, and pushed open the door.

No!

But of course, his internal shout did nothing to stop what was happening. He was still moving, still walking into the hated pyramid.

He felt like killing something. He felt like turning around and running back down the steps and away from here, fleeing for the first time in his life. He felt like making it all. Just. STOP.

But he couldn't. He couldn't do anything except what this unknown power was making him-… Hang on… Could it be?

He shook his head violently, glad that he could at least still do that. That was a ridiculous thought. There was no way that He could be doing this. He was gone. Had been for a long while, longer even than Azzanadra's stint in this vile pyramid. But still, if it was Him… Well, maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

Of course, there was a much larger possibility that whatever was doing this wanted to kill Azzanadra in horrible, nasty ways, or trap him in the pyramid for another four thousand years.

He started fighting again.

It didn't do anything, but it's not like he'd really expected it to. Down the ladder, through the labyrinthine tunnels, past the inconsequential creatures, down another ladder… His feet moved, he followed, to whatever end. He had no choice.

Finally, his feet stopped moving. He looked up and saw that he'd arrived in the chamber at the center of the pyramid's lowest level. Directly in front of him was the altar dedicated to his Lord. Right in front of that was the portal that would get him out of here, if only he could get to it, which he couldn't.

He felt like shouting, "What do you want?!", but he didn't figure that would really do anything… Well, apart from making him feel like a complete idiot. Instead, he just stood there, waiting for his body to do something else he hadn't told it to.

Nothing happened. Surprised, he tried taking a step forward. He could. A step backward? He could do that too. Well.

He was about to make a mad dash for the exit portal when something stopped him. No, this time it wasn't mystical force that seized his limbs… It was a swirling purple portal that was opening up barely ten feet in front of him. What was going on?

Then he saw it; the hood, the shadowed face, the symbol… It was Him.

Shock coursed through Azzanadra. He barely managed to stay upright. How could this possibly be happening?

"M-… Master?"

"Azzanadra. It's good to see you again. And in your true form this time, no less."

Azzanadra growled. Dr. Nabanik… What a farce. Then he noticed something a little… off. "Er… why is your portal a different color?"

"It's a different kind of portal than the last one. That one was merely for communicating. With this one I plan to reenter Gielinor, at long last."

Azzanadra wasn't quite sure how to react. Obviously this was very good news, but the way it had been said… Something weird was going on here. This was too sudden, too random, too unannounced. But he didn't say any of that.

"That's excellent news, Master."

"Yes, I quite agree. Now, prepare yourself. This may come as a bit of a shock."

"Um… what?"

"I'm coming through."

"Okay…"

"Brace yourself."

"Why?"

"Oh, for Pete's sake, Azzanadra! Just do as I say!"

Azzanadra bowed his head. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be impertinent."

"That's better."

He looked up again, curiosity getting the better of him. "But I would like to know exactly what's going on. Why here? Why now? How is it even possible?"

A long sigh came through the swirling portal. "Here, because it's close to the center of your emotions."

"So?"

"You wanted your questions answered. Let me finish."

"Sorry."

"Now, because I can. I've just become aware of the possibility, and how… Well, you'll find out in a moment."

"I will?"

"Yes, now be quiet! I must concentrate."

"Yes, Master."

Silence fell. Azzanadra waited. Nothing seemed to be happening, at least not that he could tell.

This was kind of lame.

He was about to speak up and say so, despite his great respect for his Lord and his great fear of his Lord's wrath, when he felt the strangest sensation go through him. Like a ripple in his very molecules. He tried to open his mouth to make some sound of protest, but he found that he couldn't. His entire body had locked up.

What's going on? he wanted to yell. How many times in one day could a person be expected to lose control of their body and not complain a little? He at least wanted some kind of explanation.

I don't believe an explanation is needed. You'll see for yourself in a moment.

Azzanadra would have jumped if he'd been able to. That voice in his head was most definitely not his own. In fact, it sounded eerily similar to…

A shudder passed through his mind, and he heard one last thing before losing consciousness.

Hello, Gielinor. Guess who's back?