||[Dec. 4th, 2004|02:18 am]
Who: Voldemort and various doomed security guards.|
Where: Thebes, Egypt.
When: Friday night.
The Dark Lord took a deep breath, pushed back his chair, and got to his feet.
Everything seemed slightly hazy, and he was still feverish, and tired, but---
---but that was of no importance.
Thebes would fall at his feet and then burst up into flame. It would be magnificent. He would stand at the gates of the city and watch it collapse, slowly, the smoke spiraling up into the sky.
Voldemort felt a surge of energy well up from within him. He was thinking quickly, as he always did before a mission. But he could control it. He could control it and as he did so the city itself appeared before him, beckoning. The Dark Lord waved his wrist and summoned up a shield, testing out his strength. There. No different from the usual. Voldemort shivered slightly as he stepped into the center of the library. It was harder, but that would only make it more of a challenge. And where there was no challenge, there could be no achievement…
He closed his eyes, concentrating---
---and opened them again on the outskirts of Thebes, near the Valley of Tombs. Muggle tourists walked towards some of the already opened tombs, their inane prattle pushing out into the hot air, polluting it. Voldemort pulled his cloak about him tightly, eyes burning bright red.
After a few minutes at a fast pace he had reached the last of the opened tombs. Sensing the ward around the rest he spun a web of green light out before him and broke through them in a burst of energy. Once inside the enclosure he paused, scanning the lines of guards at the entrances. He did not even need to stupefy them; the sweltering sun was doing that much for him. Still…
…he couldn’t have them going after him as he broke the codes now, could he?
The Dark Lord took a deep breath, gathering his strength. They wouldn’t stand a chance against him, even like this. He had powers they could never even dream of.
Finally, features expressionless, face ashen, and eyes centered straight on his goal, the Dark Lord stepped towards the first group of guards.
The green light cut through the desert air and exploded onto the helpless guard, allowing Voldemort to suck his strength right out of him. He felt a presence behind him and whirled about, wand once again waving through the air.
Within five minutes he stood alone.
“Very well,” Voldemort said to himself, smirking and sitting down in the sand. It was a luxury he normally would not have allowed himself, as his time alone was limited, but he couldn’t very well break the codes when he couldn’t see straight, could he? No. Voldemort closed his eyes, clearing his mind of all extraneous details. Now…
…he was ready.
Half an hour later he was already on his second tomb. The authorities were yet to arrive. After all, it was a long way off and there weren’t many people around to protect the site, really. He had chosen well, indeed.
The Dark Lord worked quickly, stepping back from the various puzzles and curses and letting the pieces fall together in his mind, the patterns pushing and pulling at each other until they were still, perfect.
Suddenly, the sound of voices spun itself out into the desert and the Dark Lord grew tenser, his mind flying forward even faster. There was a certain perfection about solving the puzzles, a feeling of pure control about the way the patterns were put down, one after the other. Mathematics and magic. Voldemort’s two most favorite activities. The excitement was beyond exhilarating.
If he could only get this one, he would be satisfied. Two. That would be more than enough. Then to Thebes, where he would rain fire unto the streets and make the sands shape themselves up into whirlwinds. Voldemort’s eyes brightened as the code suddenly broke open, and he burst in, carefully removed the charms and took the treasures the tomb had to offer before Apparating out again, this time into the middle of the desert. Thoughts raced through the Dark Lord’s mind; for a second he felt as though he was spread across the sky with the world spinning beneath him, bowing before his might. When he had been very young he had searched in vain for the God of the Bible, who had whipped himself into whirlwinds and rained fire upon the wicked; now he could do the same himself. He could and he---
---Voldemort’s thoughts were interrupted as he found himself leaning down on the sand, coughing. No. He would go on; he had to go on. He would always survive, for he was the sand and he was the sea and he was the light that lingered between them. He was at once nowhere and everywhere, all of the time.
The Dark Lord struggled to his feet, shaking the sand from his long black cloak. To Thebes!
Within seconds, he was crossing the city square. Within minutes, fires were flaring up all around him. Exactly one hour later he Apparated back out into the middle of the desert and collapsed onto the burning sands, beyond elated. Voldemort was colorblind – but that did not stop the world from shining for him, sometimes – shimmering so scintillatingly it was almost blinding. Beautiful. Just beautiful.
It took a while for the Dark Lord to realize that he was still lying in the sand, shaking violently. With a last bit of effort he transformed into snake form. It was easier that way. Simpler. Then, hissing, he slithered off and curled himself up under the nearest rock, where he stayed, motionless, for two days.
By the dawn of the third he was home.