“Two more spaces. He’s off the board.” I smiled as I plucked off my third piece. That made the score 3-1 in my favor. With two left on the final row, my victory was all but assured.

“Hm.” Dedún frowned. He could not understand just where he went wrong in his assessment of the game board. A look of clarity came over him and he threw his paddles with reassurance. That made me nervous.

3 white paddles

The lion plucked his trailing piece and moved it from square 19 to square 22, wrapping it over his second to last piece. That put all four of his pieces either on the last row or just on the corner.

“You’re close, but you can’t catch up at this rate.” I probed. Perhaps he would open up and reveal his strategy once more.

“Indeed I cannot.” His mouth contorted into the semblance of a grin. Jagged obsidian teeth sparkled in the hazy light of the chamber.

“You’re awfully happy to be on the losing end of this match,” I replied, tossing my paddles.

Four whites - move and throw again

I moved my trail piece from square 27 to square 30. The second throw gave me the chance to move again. Just like that, another piece off the board. Only one more on Square 29 remained.

“Fortune ebbs and flows, Puck. The faces of many gold coins have made their acquaintance with the tomb of Lord Thutmose III. And just as many take their leave. No wealth is permanent.”

How thoughtful. Though if he knew that I had cheated him, perhaps he would not be offering me platitudes.

“Then what’s the point of stockpiling it all in here? Aren’t these tombs laden with riches for use in the afterlife?” I watched him cast his next throw haphazardly.

Two whites

He moved his front piece to 26, just shy of the trap on Square 27. That wouldn’t catch him again.

“They are reminders. Testaments to the glory of the inhabitant of this resting place. His soul is what carries true wealth. Nobody can rob a man of the brilliance of his spirit - forged by the fires of lifelong trials and tribulations.”

“That is quite profound.” I mused. I was more interested in the wealth that put food in my stomach, a nice roof over my head, maybe a few shiny gadgets to play around with. Life in death was immaterial to me.

“I sense your misgivings. You would not be the first.”

I rolled my next hand.

1 white paddle - move and roll again

And that was the game. A quick move forward, reroll, and my last piece was off the board.

“Lord Shai - fate - has calculated every grain of your life. As the sands fall he is there to catch them. He waits for you at the end with the great judge to tally your deeds.”

“If they are all fated to happen, then what is there to judge?” I said. No event could truly be prophesied. Everything had a chance; the odds of occurring were based on countless factors. It was impossible to account for them all, much less free will.

“Destiny is not so simple. Every man has been ascribed a path to follow. A higher calling, if you will. It is his to follow or reject.” Dedún rose from his haunches and offered a bow.

I offered a short nod in reply.

“I’d rather make my own path.”

“It seems you already do, Puck. You are quite the clever man.” The lion reached down for the box containing my prize and plopped it on top of the sarcophagus. “Not many could calculate the exact angle at which to drop these flimsy wooden paddles. Though, a more clever man wouldn’t be caught in the act. This is not your first time being caught, either.”

The statue released the clasp of his wooden box. A soft glow broke through the haze of the room as the lid revealed its mystical contents.

“A bold man may strive to change his fate, and may even succeed in doing so, but a wise man knows when it is right to resign himself to its workings.”

I swallowed the saliva that had been pooling in my mouth. The incense had dulled many of my senses, including feeling in my face. I was surprised I could still think coherently. Something about what he said resonated in the dullness of my mind, like a rock clinking down the sides of a chasm.

Dedún nodded, encouraging me to take my prize. I reached out to pull them from their bed of velvet. They were light as air, their delicate weave of a masterful single-thread design. Even with the gemstones weighing on them, it felt as if I clutched nothing in my sweating hands.

I slipped them on. The lips of each glove stopped directly at the line on my wrist. The fingertips fit snugly to my own. No loose fabric dangled from my hands.

“Quite a nice fit,” I muttered.

“A perfect fit.” The lion replied.

Silence filled the air, interrupted only by the occasional crackling of a torch. I supposed this had meaning as well, but I chose not to indulge him further. The odds of the gloves being pure coincidence were low, sure, but I had to continue my journey.

“So then, that is all? No punishment for my underhanded tactics? No lever to pull and throw me into a cage to be tormented for all eternity?”

“Oh no. Like I said those days are far behind me. I don’t have room in this stuffy place for such a thing.” The lion chuckled, carefully putting his Senet pieces back into a compartment of the playing board.

“Well, I will be taking my leave. It was a pleasure playing with you.” I said, a little put off by the deity’s demeanor.

I made my way over to the door on the opposite end of the room. It slid open as I approached.

“The pleasure was all mine, Puck. Do take good care of those gloves. They are one of a kind.”

----

In the hallway outside I could finally catch my breath. My chest ached as the crisp air pushed out the fog inside my lungs.

When I could stand without bending over, I examined my haul more closely.

Item Equipped:

[Mythical Gloves]

Gloves of Heka

Magical Item

In one hand and out the other. The gloves can displace any palm-sized object within a 5m radius into the hands of the wearer, and can likewise be placed anywhere in range. Nobody except the wielder may be looking at the object, and the palms must be closed.

Even in the poorly lit tunnel, the diamond-studded knuckles sparkled. The white lace of my gloves flexed with every movement of my hand. It truly felt like I wore nothing at all. I worried about their durability but decided not to test their mettle for fear of causing damage.

Could displace any palm-sized object, huh? How exactly did that work? Do I just…

Thwack.

The cool embrace of metal met with my palm through the thin material of the glove. Just as I envisioned, one of my grenades had made its way from my belt into my outstretched hand.

Oh hell yes.

I rolled the grenade a bit further down the hall, careful not to depress its charger. Nothing happened when I pictured it in my hand, so I took a step further.

Thwack.

There it was, clasped under my folded fingers like a thermite-loaded Lot ball.

The things I could do with this sneaky piece of technology.

And that’s all it was. The realization dawned on me that, for a minute, I almost bought the whole “this is fate, these were meant for you” crap that Dedún tried to sell me. These gloves were nothing more than a series of 1s and 0s. Code written specifically for me, generated by my encounter. No shit they were tailored to my size. This whole thing was a simulation.

I don’t know what I had been smoking in that room, but it had scrambled my brains pretty damn good. Maybe that’s why so many ancient religions played heavy with inhalants.

Down the tunnel, I spotted another doorway. No turns to make, no forks in the road, no deviations. I pulled out my tracking device and pointed it straight ahead.

The tip lit up.

I was going the right way at least. Still, the lack of choice set me on edge. Nothing was preventing me from walking straight into a trap.

I closed the distance between myself and the next room. On the door, a pair of halberds crossed over a shield. Engraved into the sandstone was the image of a bird of prey. Its wings unfurled to reach the edges of the shield. Sharp talons protruded from its outstretched legs. Its sharp beak was propped open; I could almost hear the predator’s shrill call.

The door did not open when I pushed on it. I examined it closer.

A parting bisected the carving, disappearing as it reached the top and bottom edge of the doorway. A faint blue light emitted from between the two sides of the door. I wedged my fingers in and began to pull apart. Despite the sandy stone’s bulk, they slid apart with ease.

Inside the room, I located the source of the light. A blue crystal nestled in the basin of a metal lattice podium. The crystal emitted a beam of light from its tip, which met with the arch of a grand gate on the far side of the room. The entire gate glowed in the same shade of blue, covered by the crystal’s energy.

The gate and its crystal were in an elevated portion of the room, reachable by a grand marble staircase that ran up the middle between two elongated platforms. These platforms were extensions of the second floor and acted as a kind of terrace, each secured with a railing.

Over a dozen sarcophagi lined the sides of the ground floor in rows of four - none were as ornate as the one Dedún watched over. These looked to be framed in wood and cast in a rough metal before being stained with red and brown paints.

The ceiling was supported by two columns of four pillars on the ground floor, which separated each row of sarcophagi from the other. At the top level, at the edge of the staircase, three more sarcophagi surrounded the crystal in a triangular formation. A pillar sprouted from the base of each of these coffins to also aid in the support of the roof.

And walk into the trap I did.

In response to my thought, the door behind me slid shut. I didn’t bother to turn around to try to pry it open. There’d be no point in going back anyway, this was the way forward.

I could’ve told you what happened next.

The lids of each sarcophagus popped open. As the thick slabs of metal rolled away, skeletal figures adorned in bronze armor emerged from within. The sixteen skeletons on the ground floor were dressed uniformly. Each wore an armless breastplate, a conical helmet with a nose guard that protected much of their center face (if you could call it that), and three pairs of curved plates that fell to cover their waist and groin. Again, not much left to protect there, but it looked sharp.

The skeletal guardians each bore a wood-handled polearm with rusted blades attached by two strands of warped metal on the edge of the shaft. The unwieldy weapons took two hands to use but could easily cover a distance of two or three meters. I wouldn’t want to get close to them if I could help it.

Atop the elevated platform, the three central coffins opened to reveal a more diverse cast. Two archers armed with longbows and a singular warrior clad with a curved sword and black iron shield covered in jagged spikes that protected him from ankle to neck. On his head, he wore a helmet of similar shape to his buddies on the ground level, but this one was polished steel instead of the brassy burnish of their inferior models. A plume of black feathers sprouted from the triangular crest on its cranium.

I must have misjudged the size of their coffins from this distance because these three stood about 4 meters tall. Their bodies nearly met with the ceiling of the room itself. If they wanted to walk through the gate they stood to protect, they’d have to stoop their heads just to fit.

The warrior, who I presumed was the leader from his fancy headgear, belted something out in a harsh-sounding tongue. His eyes glowed blue like the crystal he stood guard over. I had no idea what he said, but I’m sure it was something to the effect of “you’re going to die here, nobody passes through this gate!”

Not very intimidating from a guy that had been killed once before.

The soldiers on the ground floor shuffled from their resting places, forming up ranks between myself and the staircase. The freakishly tall archers took position above, one on either platform. They drew back the cords of their hefty bows, training their barbed arrows on my form.

Well, at least this was the right direction.