Egypt

3,699 years since initial death
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"State your name." The bearded sultan spoke, his blade was placed against his prisoner's shoulder.

He spoke in Arabic, appearing confident that the man he was speaking to could understand the language. Around them, the fires began to settle, as more soldiers marched around them. The battle was already over.

The prisoner paused for a moment as sweat continued to drop. It was no secret that he appeared exhausted. The prisoner's strength had been depleted as he could no longer stand up and fight. This is why the sultan stood so close, knowing his life wasn't in any danger. Finally, the prisoner responded.

"Maalik Seti."

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Before his previous time fighting against the Byzantines, it was a name he hadn't used in thousands of terribly long years. There were rare occasions when he'd mutter it out loud, but to use it once more as a title was something he hadn't dared to try. 

It's a name he could never forget. Although it has changed throughout the years, he could not deny his origins. After much consideration, he felt it was time to return to the one place that began his immortal adventure. His first destination was Giza.

Maalik stood in the center of a field of sand with the pyramids situated to his side in the far distance, the wind blowing heavily against him. There used to be a few palm trees here, and a nearby stream. Life used to flourish in these sands, but nothing remained here anymore. He used to know this place like the back of his own hand. Even now, it felt peaceful just to be standing here once more.

It was the exact same spot he had trained Aisha how to hunt and use a bow.

The thoughts of his family flowed through him. It has been so long since he felt what it was like to have a family. To raise a child with a loving wife, having no worries in the world. No wars to fight in, no conflicts threatening the peace, and no sadness.

Right in front of him was a recently made grave. Above the tomb was a wooden log with one arrow lodged directly in the center of its crest. 

He kneeled down on the sand in front of the grave as he closed his eyes. There was only silence as he continued to remember. Although he wanted to cry, he had no more tears left to shed. He already got it out of his system a short while ago.

"Are you proud of me?" Maalik spoke, keeping his eyes closed. "Or are you afraid of the beast I have become? I made you a promise that I would return. Never in my wildest imagination would I have known it would take this long."

He sighed, opening his eyes to stare at the sand beneath him. There was so much he wanted to say, yet he didn't know how to continue. But he had to say something.

"Aisha. I wish I had known you longer. Nine years was nowhere near enough. I wanted to see you grow taller and stronger. To see you hold your bow firmly and fire an arrow worthy enough to be guided by God himself. But I'm sure I've disappointed you. The memories I hold where I unfairly lashed out at you; they still haunt my mind. I regret it all. I've been hurting this world, recklessly taking away lives and breaking apart families, and I can't help but feel that I'm being punished for it."

"Although it has been an unimaginable amount of time, I still remember you as if we had seen each other yesterday. I can still recall your voice, how you used to laugh and cry. I want to relive it again, yet I can't; not now. I know this isn't the sort of life you've thought I'd have. Perhaps if you too were immortal, it wouldn't have been so bad. Alas, I cannot wish this curse on anyone, especially not you."

"I may have had other children throughout my life, and dozens of families I could never let go of; but you were my first daughter. You were the reason I continued to live, and you still are. One day, we shall meet again. As long as I still live, my mission remains, and we shall be reunited. I'll stand beside you in the desert and hold your hands as you straighten your bow and fire an arrow that will finally strike its target. I will be there to see you succeed. Even if I have to wait a thousand years more."

Just as he smiled thinking about that future, a frown befell him. Another person had invaded his thoughts. "Ada, I'm sorry."

The ceiling that crashed atop of her also crushed his heart in the process. There was so much more he wanted to say to her, but he couldn't find it in himself to continue. He felt sick just thinking about it.

Instead, he rose back on his feet, taking a few steps backwards. He rubbed the sand off his legs, feeling his left hand burn slightly in the process. It's been hurting ever since he made it here, but not enough to warrant his attention.

Packing his remaining belongings and sheathing his staff to his back scabbard, he was ready to depart. He took one last look at the grave concealing his daughter and her fortunes away. This is what she deserved. 

So, he mounted his camel nearby, leaving the one site that contained his deepest thoughts and memories. Now, he only had one more destination left.

Stopping at the very base of the largest wonder of the world, he paused. The pyramids were nothing like they once looked during their golden age.

Placing a hand over the old, ruined stones; he looked up. It's a long way up there. But it didn't matter. However, once he removed his hand, he flinched at the sudden burst of pain he felt. It was the same as before, but the affliction was worsened tenfold. 

His left hand was glowing again, revealing an inscription of a sail barge. It was the same vision he experienced on the day he had initially awakened from his first death. Although the mystery behind it is still unsolved, he chose to believe it was a symbol of his fate.

He's already searched this whole area for anything that could explain this anomaly, but nothing ever came up. That further proved his theory that this was nothing more than just a reminder of his curse. 

A thought entered the back of his mind that maybe he just wasn't looking hard enough, but he ignored it. He's here now for a different reason. So, he clenched his hand and resisted the burn. It was time to begin.

He placed his foot over the stone, beginning to climb as he stepped over the next stone. The pyramid didn't give him much space to stand on as the vertical climb was becoming steeper the higher he climbed.

One step made him slip as he lost his balance. But he never fell back down. His determination was too strong to have him give up as one hand jolted forward to grab the edge of the nearest stone. Once he regained his stamina, he continued.

Then came the tip. There was once a time when it vibrated and emitted a golden yellow hue every time the sun shined upon it. It matched the pure whiteness of the base of the pyramid, but that was so long ago. Everything now was a polar opposite of the past's glory.

Despite having crumbled like the rest of the pyramid, the tip still had a slight amount of smoothness to its verticality. It forced him to adapt as he held on to each ledge he could get his hands on.

No longer did he have any solid surface to rest his feet on. He dangled from the side, noticing that his hands were beginning to shake and ache. One slip-up, and it's instant death. It shouldn't matter to him, but he isn't willing to die here again. This time, he will succeed. He will live.

With one final effort, he reached the very top. His feet contacted the top of the world, standing on a broken platform barely a foot in perimeter. This was the true test of his balance. He had to stand incredibly still not to fall off from here.

The view is what he had waited for. And the view is exactly what he got.

He could see everything. In the midst of it all, he could see both other pyramids from either side loom high above the earth. Their figures casted shadows that stretched far and beyond, covering the desert in a cold and desolate display of darkness.

The Sphinx below in the distance sat and waited, staring in expressionless disappointment as its presence has long since been abandoned by mankind. An ocean of sand and desert surrounded it, one that has already buried thousands of years' worth of history beneath it.

North of him was Al-Qahira, or Cairo, a vast city still undergoing construction as it endured brutal attacks from the Holy Crusaders. Upon pillars of sand, towers impended above the rural landscape and castle walls defended the communities within. Even from Maalik's standpoint, he could hear the muffled and softly quiet call of Islamic prayer breaching the silence in his ears.

The Nile River was also partly visible, glistening in his eyes as the sunlight reflected off of it. Dots of scattered palm trees were evident, tracing the length of the river. On one side of the water was density, nature and humanity. The opposite boundary of the Nile was only met with a sorrowful display of dull shades of orange valleys that stretched for miles on end. It was devoid of life, essence, and comfort. It only left behind a mysterious identity of complexion as one would wonder of the billion journeys made throughout the depressing and vivid deserts there.

But right underneath the immense wonders of the world, it felt empty. Gone were the lively communities, neighborhoods, markets, trades and culture. Gone was the greenery that struck wonder and awe in any traveler fortunate enough to encounter this dreamland. Gone was simply everything but humanity's pasts and triumphs. 

Time has brought this land to its knees.

Maalik couldn't even recognize his home anymore. Only the pyramids helped remind him of his daunting origins. The legacy he left behind that he continues to hold has faded beneath the Sahara and across the continents. It was all fading away as nothing else remained to prompt his home.

So, he took a deep breath.

He spread his arms out and closed his eyes.

He had to jump.

It only felt right, it's why he had to do it.

But just as his foot was extended forward, he stopped.

He told himself he wouldn't die here again. Even if the satisfaction from the fall was immense, this wasn't right. It's not what his family would have wanted him to do.

Putting his foot back in place, he stood tall and sighed. The wind blew against him, causing his dark clothing to ripple. Then came the call of a falcon. Just as the sun's rays shone across his back, he turned his head to spot the bird fly past him.

He's come a long way, and there was still more time to set an impact. He carefully crouched until he leapt. Sliding down the vertical tip, its rough edges tore into him and burned. This was fastest and semi-safest descent, just until the smooth base deformed and presented him with the cracked edges and crumbled blocks. It forced him to turn over just as his unpleasant slide reached its end. His hands reached for anything to grab a hold of, and he stopped himself from tumbling down unceremoniously. 

Once he completed his climb back onto solid ground, he began his embarkment. His nostalgic trip down memory lane in Egypt was over until another thousand years or so. The next stop was Syria, and from there, he would finally reach Jerusalem.

It was there that he encountered the Crusaders and the Templars. They offered him tranquility and peace, and he accepted them without thinking much of it.

Soon after, Maalik realized the region was at the brink of war. Tensions rose as the Christians often had trouble with the Ayyubid Dynasty, almost resulting in terrible conflicts. The sultan, Saladin Ayyub had united most of the Arab world together even after recently securing the country, Yemen. With his grand Muslim army, his dynasty stretched from the far reaches of Egypt and even reached Syria, pushing back the opposing Zengid Dynasty in the process.

The Red Sea was entirely under Saladin's control, and after striking back against the Christians, he destroyed a grand Templar fortress in Northern Palestine called Chastelet. Because of this, the king of Jerusalem called for a truce between the Muslims and the Christians.

Raynald of Châtillon, a Christian leader, was the first to break the truce. He raided a Muslim caravan in Tayma, stealing their possessions and taking prisoners. At the time, Maalik was entirely against this decision. A truce was already in place, breaking it was unnecessary and reckless, it was only going to result in more battles.

This was another case of leaders killing one another over power and land. Maalik was sick and tired of it all. He was ready to leave and return to Ireland or maybe even travel south into undiscovered land in Africa; but it wasn't that easy.

The Crusaders needed help against Saladin's threat after the truce was broken because of their own stupidity. Seeing that Maalik looked to be the perfect age of a warrior and had the strength of one, he was forced into the army.

Much to his own disappointment, he hated them. They made him fight in a war he had no interest in. But that wasn't even the worse part. These Crusaders and Templars were incompetent. Even the most brutal vikings still carried respect for one another, something these soldiers knew nothing about. However, after the death of Jerusalem's king, a new man was named king. Guy of Lusignan.

This brought back hope that war could be avoided, as Guy was seen as a fair ruler, one who acted on behalf of his nation's security. He was able to sign a second peace treaty with the sultan, Saladin. Because of this, the people could rest easily once more without fear of war.

Finally, Maalik could pack his belongings once more and leave this wretched country before any trouble emerges. That was until Raynald of Châtillon struck again.

Shortly after this peace treaty was signed, he turned against his own advisers and sought for violence. Along with his own men, he raided a second caravan, this time slaughtering innocent Muslim people in December of 1186. Saladin was rightfully enraged by this, vowing that he would kill Raynald with his own hands.

It was because of Raynald's lust for war and blood that Saladin decided to give him exactly what he wanted. He was going to deliver a war larger than the Crusaders have ever seen. With the entire Arab World under his control, there will be nothing he won't destroy until he delivers vengeance for all those who have suffered and died by Raynald's hands.

His anger was simply beyond words.

It was beyond bounds.

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Historical Notes:

Raynald of Châtillon was the only Christian leader to offend and purposefully aggravate Saladin. He often raided innocent caravans and threatened the route of Muslim pilgrimages with a naval fleet in the Red Sea. He was responsible for breaking the peace between the Christians and Muslims just because he personally felt it didn't 'bind' him. His refusal to pay for compensation was the final straw as Saladin found it impossible to forgive him and launched an invasion worthy enough to annihilate the largest armies in the world.

Saladin's name in English literally translates to: The Righteousness (Goodness) of the Religion.

Saladin (Salah al-Din Yusuf ibn Ayyub)

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