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Egyptian Legacy

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This story is No. 2 in the series "Egyptian Legacy". You may wish to read the series introduction and the preceeding stories first.

Summary: Revamped. Sequel to "Interference." Xander has to meet his destiny as the Protector of Man with Imhotep by his side. But to do so, he must forget his past and begin again.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Stargate > Xander-CenteredAlmadynisFR1546,18046620,20416 Feb 0829 Sep 08No

New Beginnings

Egyptian Legacy
New Beginnings

Disclaimer: I don’t own Halfrek, Xander, Imhotep, Ardeth, or any SG-1 characters. Plotline is mine. Caelynn is also mine.
AN: This is a revamp of the original story I started in February. I have kept a lot everything of the original up to the end of chapter two, where it starts to differ dramatically.

Thanks for your patience.

The Prophesy of the One Who Sees

“The One Who Sees as the Protector of Man will not know his abilities or his heritage, both being lost to the generations. He will use his abilities, with the help of the soul that resounds with his, to bring back balance to Home-That-Was and to Home-That-Is as well as to the rest of the stars.

“Before his twenty-second year, the Protector of Man will have brought back balance uncounted times to the place where all non-science intersects. If born in this place, his abilities will be suppressed more so than if not. If born in the place of his Responding Soul, these abilities will be brought forward, though he will not know how to control them and will suppress them of his own free will. If he does not find his Responding Soul before his twenty-fifth year, all will be lost and he will be born again.

“When the One Who Sees does find his Responding Soul in time, it will be revealed to him through any number of ways that he is of the Ancient line and will then be told to seek out the Legacy. If a Stargate has not been found, he will have to begin again. If it has occurred that a Stargate has resurfaced, he must seek out his heritage and claim that which is his.”

* * *

The brunette sat in a comfortable leather chair, holding an ancient black leather bound text in his lap. He was reading from the glow of a gentle yellow lamp sitting on a cherry-stained wooden side table, in the middle of a large library. The walls were covered in bookshelves that contained nothing but books, from floor to ceiling. The only strange things about this little scene were the man’s eyes, which were a gold-flecked brown, and the fact that the pages the man was “reading” from were blank, though they appeared to be in the middle of the large tome.

When the door swung open with a soft hiss of wood against carpet, the man looked up with an expectant smile only to have it disappear in an instant, instead filled with suspicion and distrust at the sight of the newcomer. The man that entered the room was dressed in an old fashioned cream colored tunic and leggings, but his feet lay bare to the dark blue carpet. His hair fell to his shoulders in golden waves as his blue eyes shone with humor and wisdom. He held his hands up in surrender, though his eyes caught the fact that the brunette didn’t relax at the gesture.

His eyes never leaving the other, the first gently set aside his book on the table, keeping his place carefully with a bookmark, and got to his feet. With a voice that was at once intimidating and silken sweet, the brunette ask, “What do you want?”

The other man smiled then in genuine affection, “I wished to see my son. How are you settling in?”

The brunette’s eyes narrowed in wariness and for the moment ignored the first part of the intruder’s answer. “Considering six months ago I was told I wasn’t human, peachy with a side of keen. Who and what are you? What are you doing here?”

Hands still in a placating signal, the blue-eyed male tried to diffuse the situation he could feel start to occur. “I am glad you are well. Some would call me an Ancient and I am here to help you as much as I am able. We know you are learning quickly, more quickly than expected,” he gestured to the blank book, “but one of the Imposters has been trying to find a Legacy and is very close to succeeding. If it does get the information the Legacy contains, your job will be that much greater. Perhaps impossible.”

The brunette waved the other over to a hidden chair similar to his own and went to a shelf off to the left. Tilting the spine of one book caused a side-panel to open, revealing a steaming hot tray of tea and biscuits. When the two of them were both settled with their impromptu brunch, the brunette sighed and sat back staring into concerned blue eyes for several moments. Exhaustion clear in his posture and expression, he asked, “I have been fighting for so damn long…when this one is over, will it be the last?”

The blond hesitated, his mind going over what he was able to tell the young man and what would just confuse him. If he was honest with himself, the man before him was learning at a far greater rate than any of them had fully realized, and was wiser than most humans already, though he hid it most of the time to keep others at ease. The man might understand the full answer, but he was not authorized to tell him; for at the moment, it didn’t matter. There were too many variables anyway to answer him with any kind of accuracy. “If all goes well, the balance will be restored. That is all I can say for certain.”

Brown and gold eyes looked at him a moment longer before nodding, “I guess it was too much to hope for. So, how much are you able to help and in what way?” One eye opened to judge the other’s reaction, though it was only a solemn nod.

“I have been sent to answer as many questions as I can without throwing off the balance overmuch.”

The brunette gave a snort to indicate his thoughts on that, “Let’s start with an easy one then…what’s your name?”

The blond smiled widely and he inclined his head again as if greeting an equal, “I am your father. While in time I hope you may call me such, for now I will settle for Caelynn.” While the answer was not complete, it was as close as the young man could understand at that time.

Brown eyes went up in surprise, as he translated the word, “Wind?”

Caelynn smiled as he nodded, “You are getting better with languages.”

“I’ve always been able to pick up any language I hear fairly quickly. Written takes a bit longer, but I can still do it. I seem to have a knack for them. The only one I’ve ever forgotten is that one.” He pointed to the book behind him with a thumb.

Caelynn nodded, “That was the convergence’s influence. It helped protect you while you grew, so now that it is gone, you must be more careful than before. There is no magic in your aura to warp technology around you, you must be careful near such things as well.”


Long into the night, the two men talked. Caelynn answered as much as he was able, until he felt the sun stirring and rose to leave. Smiling over his shoulder, the blond gave his son one last look before walking out the door. It would be many months before he son would be able to answer such a smile with his own.

* * *

Xander bolted upright from the intensely vivid dream, sweat coating his skin, chilling him. He barely spared a glance that the spot next to him was empty before racing to his sitting room where a computer lay available to his fingers and sat. Quickly logging in, he set to work.

Ever since Willow had taken up magic, she had leaned more and more heavily on it rather than technology. In a fit of boredom one day, Xander had asked her to teach him all she knew about computers…and hacking. When they were still in high school there had been more than enough time to show and guide him. So, while other did book research (and went to college), Xander honed his hacking skills as well as his muscles patrolling and later with construction.

Xander had been the one to break into the governments archives to look for Initiative files. He was the one who knew how to shut Adam off, though it was Willow and Giles that had figured out how to do it without getting any of them killed. But after the Initiative was destroyed, his skills began to rust with the more magical-related problems of Glory and the Three Twerps who didn’t have a record.

Even so, Xander knew what he was looking for now and in the vague area of where it might be. Time to break his record no-hacking streak.

* * *

Major Samantha Carter picked up the phone mid-Jack rant. Colonel Jack O’Neill watched as his second in command’s eyes widened and suddenly turned to her computer and began typing. With one hand on the keyboard, the other hung up the phone.


She glanced up at him as if she had forgotten he was still there. “Sir, do you remember about two years ago a hacker was able to get into our files and pretty much every other branch of the government?”

“Not really, but keep going anyway.”

“Yes sir. All we ever found was that the hacker’s computer was somewhere in the Western United States and his handle was White Zeppo.” She fell silent, still typing quickly.

“So, what does that have to do with why you are typing so damn fast?”

“White Zeppo just hacked into the SGC’s mainframe.”


“I am trying to track him as fast as I can, sir. He’s good, but it looks like he’s a little rusty, we’re closing in on his IP address. We are also recording what he’s been searching for and copying.”

“How was he able to do this in the first place?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

Jack shut his mouth with a snap. If Carter didn’t know, he sure as hell wouldn’t either. All he could hope for at the moment was that they could catch this Zeppo. Why now, though? What was so special? Anubis hadn’t been in the US two years ago, so that couldn’t be it… After what seemed like hours, but was only about ten minutes, Carter grinned, typed faster and then stopped.

“We have an address.” At her CO’s look she related her findings, “Cairo, Egypt.”

“Looks like we’re going to Egypt.”

* * *

Xander had found what he was looking for…the Stargate. What he had mis-translated as 'the Ring' in Giles’ book was what an archeologist named Daniel Jackson had correctly translated as 'the Stargate'. He was annoyed that of all the things he could have messed up translating, of course it would be something important! But in spite of everything, and how had an Egyptologist come across the Ancient language (not to mention be able to translate it correctly when he, who had known the language since birth, hadn't)? There it was, complete with pictures…and an address.

Xander grinned as he let the person who was tracking him get his address then logged off. If he hadn’t been trained by Willow, this S. Carter would have probably caught him easily. He got up and went to find his bodyguard and his love.

Time to take the President up on that little offer…

* * *

“Say that again?” Colonel Jack O’Neill stared at his superior, genuine surprise on his face.

“I talked to the Cairo law enforcement, explained the situation and they politely told me that I must be mistaken and hung up.” General George Hammond spoke again, slower and with simpler words, so that it had a higher probability of getting through to his top man.

“What about the President? Did you talk to him?” his voice incredulous, Jack persisted. “Did you explain that someone broke into his top secret military computer system?!” With each word, Jack’s pitch rose so much so that by the last word Hammond was wincing.

“Lower the volume Jack and yes, I did. He told me not to worry about it. And when the President of the United States tells me to do something, I have to do it.” He continued to look at his subordinate and thoughtfully said, “You look stressed, Colonel. Maybe it’s time you took some vacation leave.”

O’Neill just stared at him in astonishment at this new development. After just a minute of his open-mouthed dumb-founded expression, the Colonel struck a perfect salute, turned smartly on his heel and left the room.

George shook his head, a slight smirk on his face, and snorted to himself. He knew that very soon he would probably have to deal with two angry government leaders and if he was at all honest with himself, he was just fine with it.

* * *

Xander sat cross-legged in the center of his room at the Cairo palace, eyes closed. The furniture had been moved to hug the walls, giving the triumvirate enough space for the spell.

Thinking back, Xander wanted to rage and curse the idiot in the presidential office of his former country. The current President, and Xander was so thankful that not only could he not be re-elected but that it was an election year and in another few months he could deal with a hopefully smarter man, was a polite asshole through the entire conversation.

When Imhotep had sand-stormed his way into the White House, Xander in tow, almost every alarm had been simultaneously set off by the intruders. Which only succeeded in giving the humans a headache and amusing the immortal. After everything had calmed to a reasonable level, the President and his two “guests” had that free lunch Xander had been promised, along with the rest of the Scooby gang, for the whole Initiative thing. Xander carefully explained the hows and whys of the problem and when he was done as the President looked from his face to that of Imy’s and back. Then watched as the man called security to escort them out of the building.

Which is what led the rulers of Egypt to casting the very dangerous spell that was currently underway. Xander, painted in kohl hieroglyphs, was sitting on a large kohl ankh that had been centered in a circle and aligned to the main four directions. Ardeth was standing stiffly by the door, ready to break the circle if anything went wrong (namely Xander’s death) and Imhotep, also covered in black symbols, held the Book of the Living gently in his arms as he began to chant steadily. One by one, Xander’s memories flashed before his closed lids, starting when he was about three and continuing on to the present, even memories he didn’t know he had and ones he had forgotten completely.

Xander watched as he and Imhotep had their first argument, the one that had occurred just hours before, over how necessary this spell actually was. Imhotep, red in the face from his anger and fear, was throwing out every argument he could think of as Xander stood silently watching him. When Imy had said his piece, Xander looked at him with his golden-brown eyes and stated quite simply, “If I have to endure pain and risk death to spare others, I will.” After that Imhotep could say nothing, only capturing his love in an intense hug and Xander ignored the things that could only be rain.

So, here he was, the Doughnut Boy, the Zeppo, the one who needed to be protected from even a simple vampire. Xander gave a small sigh as he felt the first twinges that announced the beginning of what he knew would be the migraine from hell. While the people who would be effected from this spell would only get Xander placed in already existing memories, Xander himself would have to have completely new memories implanted into his mind, a culmination of all those effected’s patch-worked memories.

One of the many reasons this spell was never used was that no one had ever survived, neither the caster nor the recipient. The victim would die from either exsanguination and/or massive brain hemorrhaging as the caster left the world due to magic overdose and withdrawal. It was one of the most dangerous spells the Ancient Egyptians had created, in the same category as the Hom-Dai. And it was the most intricate of all the spells in the Books, not only for the potential effects should it ever be successfully cast and the absolute power and control required to survive the spell, but also the death rate. According to what records they could find on such short notice, the spell had been tried seventeen times. No one had ever completed it or survived, and in one case, the resulting backlash of power caused the end of the Roman Empire.

Finally, the memories came to the present and Xander took a breath to calm his nerves. Now it was time for the “fun” part. He nodded to indicate his readiness and, as his eyes were still closed, could only hear the emotions in his lover’s voice when the chanting began again. Love, sorrow, fear, support, apology. As the chanting continued Imhotep’s voice started to change, beginning with a hollow quality as if the room suddenly had much better acoustics, and then it seemed as if more than one person was speaking through his love in perfect synchronization.

Even though he had braced himself for what he knew was coming, when the pain did hit, Xander felt as if someone had punched him in the gut, but unlike an actual hit it didn’t go away, only applying more and more pressure. His breath had left him in a ‘whoosh’ of air and it took a lot of his willpower to force himself to gulp in oxygen every couple of seconds, focusing on counting the seconds so that he wouldn’t miss and hopefully push back the pain. But it just got worse from there. When he had felt the slam to his privates, Xander’s mind began to fill with images and information that were his new memories being burned into his mind. Flashes of people, places, events, things…none of which he had ever seen or done. And as Imhotep’s voice grew with power, volume and intensity, so did the pace of the flashes grow until everything was a blur and Xander could no longer differentiate the sensations and input. The longer it went on, the more the pain grew and the faster it went. Vaguely he heard a man begin to scream and while one part of his being wanted to rush to aid him, the majority vote ruled, vetoing such a stupid idea when it now took all he had just to continue breathing.


Soon, the intensely agonizing burning, clawing, tearing, brutalizing sensations bombarding his mind were too much and his body began to shut down not long after from oxygen deprivation.

* * *

Halfrek bolted upright from where she had been watching the proceedings with popcorn. Her mouth hung open in shock and horror. How was she supposed to explain this to Anya? This was a common consequence in most wishes, but this time it had happened purely by accident!

Alexander LaVelle Harris was lying on the marble floor in Egypt, stretched out beside his soulmate’s body, pale and drawn. Not far away, another man that was supposed to be protecting the other two was also sprawled on the floor.

All three were dead.

* * *

Alexander Raine Harris blinked open two pure sky-blue eyes. It took him a few minutes of laying on his flannel sheeted twin bed before he remembered. But when he did, his smile would have brightened the sky itself.

He started his new job at NORAD today!

Okay, what do you think of the revamp? Like? Dislike? Suggestions?
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