'PS. If by some miracle my dear Cornelius is still alive, give him a kiss for me.'
Madame Destine's quivering fingers laid the letter upon the table. It was like reading a message from a complete stranger, but a stranger who was as close to her as a twin sister. The words – her own words – carried such a strong resonance within her mind, yet still they failed to fan the embers of memory.
'I was here…in Egypt, some twenty years ago…just as you claimed, Ahman? So why can I not recall it? This letter speaks of events I have no memory of. I cannot even remember writing it, let alone witnessing them. It speaks of a task…a path to the truth…truth about this man's betrayal. How can I possibly know where to begin if my memory draws a blank?'
If Destine were to accept the facts as presented, her younger self had been to this country before. Something had happened, something bad, and her memory of the event was clearly waning. Yet she had known that she would one day return to complete the task. As fantastic as it sounded, the letter was undeniable proof of that. But she had not returned to answer her younger self's call…she was in Egypt to defeat the Hades Consortium. The two were unconnected, surely. What were the chances of her coming to Egypt twenty years later, being lost in a labyrinth in the bazaar, stumbling into Ahman's carpet store to pick up the pieces of this puzzle?
The carpet trader let the silence get comfortable before he spoke.
'You really have no recollection of this? Nor when you came to me in distress, begging me to keep the letters safe?' Ahman asked. 'Then we must help you remember, my dear Destine, for if I understand its meaning correctly this letter is far more than just a letter…it is a warning.'
'A warning? A warning of what?' Destine asked.
'In your own words, Madame, of dire things to come,' said Ahman.