As I came into a small room they were there, The Others. One by one they bowed their heads in recognition and mumbled words that were either too terrifying to remember or so incomprehensible that the mind forgot them on purpose. My guide to this dark world motioned for me to sit in the circle as the others, who I had not recognized in my bewilderment, were sitting. They each wore the same black cowl, like that of the Dark Man who wanders the desert, so that none except my guide knew who they were. I tried to speak to my guide in Coptic and he held his fingers. Behind the largest of them was a large shelf, notched into the walls, which contained several cloudy urns with names written on them. In the center of the circle an earthen statue resembling a variation of the Sphinx sat. I could faintly smell embalming fluids and realized that in the next room was a preparation room where bodies of long forgotten corpses were reduced to their base salts. I thought to myself that must be what was in the urns I saw. As I approached the circle I could hear the small group of worshipers, if you could call them that, murmuring still. I felt their unseen eyes roaming over me and their eagerness to begin their work grows. The face of the Sphinx stared at me in a terrifying way that made me want to forget, but the more the priests murmured their blasphemy the more the statue burned its terrible gaze into my soul. As my terror mounted my vision grew dimmer so that it resembled that of a foggy looking glass. I looked around, confused, and felt the searing pain of irons burning my skin. It cracked and sizzled under a hot iron blade and I struggled to get away. I stood to leave but what seemed to be a large man with talons grabbed my shoulders and held me down. I heard the smooth voice of my guide talking in a strange language to the fearsome circle and they all laughed. Then he spoke to me. “What do you know of Arcane magic?” I did not know anything and my mind was racing from both the pain of being scalded and the disorientation of being aroused from sleep. I babbled something in my language but it must not have been what they wanted as I was treated to a second series of scalding on the other side of my cheek. The priest folded his arms in a frustrated manner and he asked me again. “What do you know of Arcane magic?” I shook my head in a horrified manner and tried to show my hands in a pleading way as I told him I knew nothing in my language. To my surprise my attention was suddenly drawn to the restrictions upon me. When I moved my hands I heard the rattle of the chains that bound me. Then they were unexpectedly jerked back. My guide shook his head to the other priests and then asked me a second question. “Where can treasure be found?” I knew not of any treasure and I shook my head feebly as I had before. The large clawed man behind me chuckled in a threatening way. Just as he was about to scald my thigh; my guide held up his hand and made a motion with it that I did not recognize. My entire body filled with the most ghastly pain I had ever experienced and then my vision faded to nothing more than the dimness of a speck. And like that I was removed from a world which frightened me so.