The Armor Chooses

The armor chooses its wearer.

A/N: So, confession time. I've been re-watching this series recently, and I've wanted to write something about it for close to fifteen years. This is my first attempt with these characters.

With that being said, I present these vignettes in the order I wrote them. No more than that. I apologize for any mistakes and hope you enjoy!

Anubis

Rain dripped off the roof, pooling by the buildings and in the low areas of the yard. It seemed to come in sheets, pouring straight down into the new shoots of grass, knocking delicate petals from the trees and soaking into every inch of his cloths. Even as the water made rivulets down the contours of his face and body, he enjoyed each drop. This was new life, a new year and the renewed campaign. His chance to prove himself superior to all others.

This year he would show himself as the utterly merciless warrior he knew himself to be, finally earn the respect he deserved. He turned toward one of the outbuildings, intent on training despite the rain, when a soft call startled him. Not a child's voice, or a woman's, but like a sob of pain and despair that carried only far enough to insight curiosity. Had he heard it or was it a trick of the weather?

It came again, though different. This time power tugged his heart, followed by a moan of the dying. He scanned the woods beyond the yard swiftly. Then, without another moment of hesitation, ran toward the path that had never been there before. Through the young shoots of new trees, mud splattering around him, he chased the sounds of battle, pulled by the call that wrapped around him like chains. Whatever was out there, he would possess it.

He lost all sense of distance and time, hurdling through the rain slicked forest. His pace matched a beat that echoed in his head and heart. He could have chased the power that whispered promises of glory for many more kilometers when the trees broke.

Within the clearing, over a swollen stream, a bridge stood in a state of disrepair. Boards had rotted thru or fallen off years ago. Yet the path seemed to indicate it still received some use. Halfway across the span of the bridge, a suit of armor sat empty; patiently offering him an empty glare through the helmets styled facial guard.

This had called him. This armor would deliver to him all his deepest desires, destruction and enemies he would smite with ease. All of it would be his! At a slow jog, he crossed the clearing, his foot poised above the first whole plank of wood when a voice boom out from all around.

"I do not think you truly desire this armor," it said with a strange accent.

"No, I do! Please allow me to prove it!" he shouted, then lowered himself to one knee and bowed.

"Then dedicate yourself to my service and then you may prove yourself worthy!"

"I vow to serve loyally, Master. I am yours to command!" a peal of thunder punctuated his pledge and the voice laughed.

"Then rise and begin your service, Anubis, Demon of Cruelty."

He stood, and stepped out on the bridge, his arm extended to grasp the helmet. His fingers brushed the bottom edge of the neck guard and darkness rose up around him. Lightning and cherry petals flashed around him, as the roar of thunder tore through the sky. Light slowly filtered past the guard of his helmet, offering him glimpses of his body, sheathed in its new armor. Power ebbed and flowed through his limbs in time to his heart beat.

Yes, the glory he had sought for years was not to be found out there, but rather, here, with a new master, a new purpose! As he marveled at the energy flooding his body, on the other side of the stream from which he had come, a gateway opened. He lifted his eyes to take in its mammoth size. Twice as tall as the surrounding trees, its doors were thrown back, inviting him to take his rightful place in a new world.