'Thank goodness,' she thought, watching the flickering light play over her dusty surroundings, the tiny source of heat feeling good on her exposed flesh. All she'd had on when she'd entered the pyramid was a tight fitting ankle length dress, with two shoulder straps, and a decorative collar that adorned her neck. Regardless of the mind-bogglingly high temperatures outside, the inside of the pyramid was incredibly cold. Waving the torch up and down her body, she rejoiced at the warmth from its flames licking each and every part of her pale flesh. Mere moments later, she decided it was best to get on with the job at hand: survival. Before doing anything else, she crafted two more torches in much the same way as the first, concerned by the sudden silence of the baying mob that, up until a few minutes before, had been clawing and scratching at the blocked entrance way.
With the torches made and ready to be lit at a moment's notice, she set about investigating everything else in the chamber, everything except the mummy, that is. Even though she knew exactly what it was, she still had no desire to disturb it unless it was absolutely necessary and her entire existence depended upon it.
After half an hour, she'd investigated all she could, apart from the mummy and the canopic jars. Her inventory, laid out in front of her, consisted of a necklace of golden flies, a half used scribe's palette with two used blocks of ink (one red, one black); two adzes (small carpenters' tools, one much more blunt that the other): half a dozen reed pens; two beaded bracelets; a glass container shaped like a fish that smelt of perfume; a polished bronze mirror and a small wooden good luck charm shaped like a man. Not quite sure what she'd been hoping for, she was certain it wasn't anything like this.
As the first of her torches started to splutter and die, she lit one of the fresh ones, once again appreciating the heat and light above all else.
After composing her thoughts for a few moments, and warming herself on the freshly lit torch, she knew where to start... well, almost. She had ink, she could write several messages in case escape proved beyond her.
'How to get some water though, that is the question.'
Immediately it came to her. Picking up the mirror, she carried it over to the darkest, coldest corner of the chamber. Taking a deep breath, she exhaled onto the cold surface, her breath condensing instantly as it did so. After a few more breaths, she couldn't see her own reflection any more. Leaving it carefully in the sand, she rushed back to the flickering torch, towering over her pathetic looking inventory. Spending a few minutes circling the crackling torch, warming her tiny body, she wove her way back to the mirror. Sure enough, the condensation had started to turn into water, and as she moved the mirror in different directions, small drops ran down its reflected surface. Taking the mirror back to the inventory, she dipped the tip of one of the reed pens into the moisture on the mirror, before gently prodding it into the red ink in the palette. Repeating the procedure a few times, eventually she had enough runny red ink for her purposes.
Poised with the reed pen in her hand, she stopped to think for a moment. What could she write? Anything too obvious and it would almost certainly be covered up or destroyed by Ptolemy's cohorts. Scanning the chamber for inspiration, she noticed two of the walls were covered in hieroglyphics. Not just a few, but thousands of them.
'This,' she thought, 'could be just what I'm looking for.' It didn't take long for her to realise that everything she required was right here in front of her. Shutting her eyes tightly, she visualised the runny red ink. As she did so, whispered ancient words flowed across her tongue, almost hovering in the air before her. Opening her eyes and looking down at the ink, she seemed satisfied that the mantra she'd cast had worked. Quickly she got on with what she had to do, the unerring silence spurring her on. Halfway through she had to stop and light the remaining torch as the previous one spluttered out of existence. Five minutes later she'd finished her message to the council. It had been easy really, she thought, taking in her masterpiece. Using the ink, she had covered particular hieroglyphs on both walls with the mantra she had cast, having altered the properties of the liquid, in effect turning it ultraviolet. Normal humans wouldn't notice anything, but a dragon trained to switch through their different visions would instantly recognise the message:
"Ptolemy attempting to murder Alexander's sons, so he can be king himself - Aviva Longwings."
Having spent too long admiring her labour, she set about removing the excess ink and destroyed the reed pens, covering all traces of her work. Her top priority had been a message for the council, now that she knew about the underhand treachery that was afoot, knowing full well that if she failed to report in, they would send another dragon to investigate. Whoever it was would find the message and hopefully the council would be able to stop Ptolemy's despicable plan before it came to fruition. Now it was time to leave if at all possible and hopefully report to the council in person. It was time to find a way out.
Standing in the middle of the chamber, next to the sarcophagus, Aviva closed her eyes and once again altered her vision so that she could see in the dark. Mindful to avoid looking at the torch, she took in the rest of the chamber, in particular the ceiling high up above. From what she could see, it seemed to extend to a point, some sixty feet or so above her. Two thirds of the way up, on one of the walls without the hieroglyphs, was what looked like a small hole. What made Aviva think it might be more than it appeared was that the gap itself was perfectly square in shape. During her investigation she'd heard rumours that the humans had added vents to some of the chambers so that the spirit of the deceased could head up to the stars and into the afterlife. Of all the vents she'd heard about, none ever seemed to reach the outside of the actual pyramid itself.
'Still,' she thought, 'it's not like I've got much choice. I just need to figure out how to get up there.'
Aware that the last of her torches was over halfway through its short lifespan, Aviva had a quick scout round in an attempt to find some more papyrus. Unfortunately, she'd used the last of it, and didn't really want to be without a torch, not so much because of the light, although that was partly it, but more because of the heat. Even a small heat source like a torch was enough to warm her up and make her dragon abilities easier to access. With nothing else for it, moving reluctantly to the centre of the chamber, cautiously, she started to slide the lid off the sarcophagus. It was tough going, even with her enhanced dragon strength. Despite knowing otherwise, there was still something eerie and creepy about revealing the contents. As even staler air swished out of the tomb, Aviva held her breath as the mummy inside revealed itself. Determined to take only what she needed, she tore off some of the fabric encompassing the remains of the long dead emperor, knowing it was just what she required to make more torches.