Miss Persian was hatched a Meowth by the great Pokemon Master Imhotep in 2640BCE. She proved a capable Pokemon companion, acting as his eyes while he slept and adept at finding candies, presenting each one with great pride, until the day there was enough to evolve her into a Persian. Now at her master's side she would guard his household as Imhotep designed his great works for Pharaoh.

Time is a harsh mistress, and the portents told of Imhotep's diminishing time upon the Earth. Although Imhotep's burial place had been prepared, it had already been sacked by robber once, and so he took his companion to temples across Egypt.

At the temple of Bastet, the High Priestess fawned over the Persian and tried to take her as her own. Insulted, Imhotep left the temple.

At the temple of Tefnut, the High Priestess offered a price to Imhotep to buy the Persian. Insulted, Imhotep left the temple.

At the temple of Sekhmet, the High Priestess looked upon the Persian and called her 'sister'. She gave to Imhotep a Sun Stone. "Great Architect," she told him, "Forge her into something new to guard your tomb." Imhotep heaped upon the temple lavish gifts of lapis lazuli and left the temple.

Back at his home he gathered all his stardust and all his candies and combined them into a single candy, shining like the sun. At the gate of his house he told his guards to stay behind, we would be fine with his Persian. He walked with his companion out to the city well under the light of the moon and he caressed his companion's cheek, then gave her the candy.

Light enshrouded the Persian and she lifted into the sky over Egypt, and night became as day, a second sun shone next to the moon and descended again into the city. Imhotep, at last as the light died could see what had become of his companion. A young woman, with the ears, stripes, and tail of a cat, and hair golden like the sun. Crouched and naked, she looked up at her master, gleaming cat's eyes peering through a golden mask of a cat.

Momentarily embarrassed, he laid his cloak around her shoulders and she stood, drawing it about herself, her first words to him, "Thank you, teacher."

As they went back to his house, Imhotep wondered, how is this the fierce tomb guardian he had envisioned. A dainty girl with golden hair?

"May I see your face?" he asked.

"I must not or surely this city will die," she replied.

Not doubting the works of the Gods, they continued on in silence.

Outside the gates to his home, he noticed his guards were no longer there. Pharaoh's brother, and his guards, however, were.

"You will give this one to me, Imhotep," Pharaoh's brother declared.

Imhotep stood dumbstruck. He had hatched his Persian as a child. They had grown together, played together, cared for one another together for four decades. Pharaoh's brother had the right, as a descendant of the Gods, to demand this girl, the work of the Gods. Still, Imhotep replied, "No."

The spear immediately pierced Imhotep's chest, and as he fell, his hand touched his companion's foot, he told her, "Go free."

She stood her ground instead, eyes wide behind her mask and body shaking, and Pharaoh's brother approached her, he bowed slightly to her, as she was indeed a working of the Gods, but he demanded, "Allow me to see your face."

She replied, "I must not or surely this city will die."

"Nonsense," he gestured back to the temples of the many Gods throughout the city, "The hand of one God cannot undo the work of all Gods. Allow me to see your face."

A strangled gurgle from her expiring teacher beside her, "save...yourself...daughter."

She dropped to her knees beside her teacher who now called her daughter, and tears streamed down her cheeks, her hands upon his back. She put a hand to her mask and looked up at Pharaoh's brother.

"Pray to the Gods you hold most dear."

~~~

Across the sands and away from the inferno behind her, away from the screams of horror and the stench of death, the slight figure with golden hair carried the body of her teacher to the tomb he had prepared for himself. And there she prepared his body according to the customs, and there she laid him to rest, and there she stood at the door, transformed to stone, and there she waited, and slept for thousands of years.

~~~

"You really are quite curious, you know, and if you're hearing me, do feel free to change back from stone."

She started at the unfamiliar voice, and the grainy texture blew away from her like so much dust and she sat up straight. She should have been standing all along.

"Oh good heaven's girl, Pip Pip fetch that blanket would you? There's a good chap."

She was indoors. Strange doors, not the familiar sandstone, but dark, unfamiliar wood. And a strange pale skinned man, pale like the ones from north of Lebanon. No, even more pale, ghastly looking, and with an extra eye over his first eye, and facial hair braided like the Babylonians were wont to do, although in a different custom. He was looking modestly away from her as he offered her a blanket of strange and scratchy fabric. Wool? But it did not matter, the air was very cold, and damp, and for the blanket she was grateful. She pulled it around herself.

"Sir Archibald Clarence Chamberlain the Third, adventurer, historian, and sometimes scoundrel in the service of Her Majesty at your service, Madam. Though I'd be surprised if you understood a word of what I said."

"I understand you Sir Archibald Clarence Chamberlain the Third, adventurer, historian, and sometimes scoundrel in the service of Her Majesty," she replied with a blank stare in reply.

"Ah! Delightful, but simply Sir Chamberlain will do, as first name basis might be a bit over familiar at this early juncture. Might I inquire your name?"

"I have none. I was sometimes called Delightful, or Clever, or Brave."

The man sat back in his curiously wooden chair with a metal creak under his portly weight. She had never seen a man quite as overfed as him. And he smelled bad, though not as bad as some peasants might have. Apparently he merely ate poorly, but put some thought into hygiene. "Well, my little friend here is a man of few words, but he certainly had one for you. I believe he was trying to say, 'Seshmet'. Come out here you little scoundrel, and say hello."

A little squeal and a Meowth timidly poked his head over a stack of dusty pieces of leather bound parchment. He found his courage and jumped onto his trainer's lap and mewed at his trainer's visitor. She smiled back, and corrected, "Sekhmet. Your pronunciation is terrible."

Without missing a beat Sir Chamberlain replied, "And yours is rather good for someone who has likely never heard Her Majesty's English. Still, I believe Pip Pip has a gift for you, don't you?"

The little Meowth shook his head a vehement no.

"Pip Pip..."

Pip Pip grumbled and clambered over the desk to offer a candy to the visitor. She took it and touched her fingertip to his nose, then touched her forehead to his, "Thank you, little brother."

Pleased, Pip Pip settled into her lap and beamed up at her as she parted her lips and the candy disappeared into her mouth. She stroked his whiskers as she looked across the table at her host.

He regarded her coolly for a moment, then assured, "Worry not, none of my balls could hope to contain you, and I'm not sure there's a Master alive who could. It is an honour, though, to meet such a legendary creature. I'm not sure you even fit the definition of Pokemon anymore. I do have some information of interest to you, though, free of tariff and solely as a gesture of goodwill, but if I might pry, what did Imhotep," he paused and his eyes asked the question if he had pronounced it correctly, she nodded and he continued, "What did he use to evolve you?"

She did not reply to his question and instead, agitated, asked, "Where is he?" He took a breath, and began to reply, but she stopped him and continued, "I apologize, thank you for your hospitality. I will tell you. Twenty-seven deben of stardust," Sir Chamberlain's monocle slipped slightly and he caught it and put it back, "Many many candy, I don't know how many precisely, though it filled three sacks used for barley." She pointed to one of the sacks hung from the walls from a spike, "A little bigger than that." Sir Chamberlain nodded, an eyebrow up a bit, "and a Sun Stone." Sir Chamberlain's monocle popped out for real. He fumbled with it and was about to clean it in his shirt when a deft hand snatched it away. His visitor staring at it in fascination.

He gingerly reached out to collect it, "My eye is a bit weak without that, would it be a terrible trouble to have that returned, ah thank you, ta." He cleaned it with a breath and a wipe on his shirt, and replaced it upon his cheek. "So, yes. Your... trainer?"

She nodded and added, "Before he died he called me daughter."

Sir Chamberlain nodded, his hand absently reaching for where Pip Pip usually sat, and the little Meowth scrambled across the table to receive his pettings, a wide smile on his little face. The gentleman continued, "I should like to hear your tale in full if convenient, but I do have news of your... father. Over the millennia you'd gathered quite the body count, I'm told the skeletons were piled waist high around the tomb entrance, at least until the sand dunes buried it. I suppose you'd never guessed anyone might bother to dig their way in from above. I'm afraid he, and you initially, were taken by the French on their way to the Louvre, but were waylaid by corsairs south of Greece. Her Majesty's Navy intercepted a ship with you aboard, but the other artefacts of his tomb were already sold to a Chinese noble and are likely on their way to Hong Kong. As for you, welcome to London. Your hosts are the Royal Adventurers Society, Pokemon Research." He leaned in with an impish grin, "And should any of those rogues out there when it's time to meet them toss a ball at you, I strongly suggest throwing it right back."

~~~

Three Adventurers, she recounted with smug satisfaction, three adventurers she deposited on Sir Chamberlain's desk in their own pokeballs. She spared them the humiliation of seeing her again as she answered interview after interview from those select few allowed to know even who or what she was. She twirled the parasol over her head as she ambled down the deck of the steamer. She wished she'd had such a thing in Egypt, rather than basking under palm leaves. Much more self sufficient, even with the oppressive constriction of a corset. Such was the price of hiding in plain sight, that, and the widow's veil she'd been advised to wear. No one pestered her that way. Hong Kong was visible in the distance.

~~~

"I'd heard you were coming," the man said at the end of the gangplank as she made her way ashore. He opened his jacket to show that his trainer's belt had no balls in the holders, "And I have nowhere near enough badges for you. So please, be my guest instead."

She stopped a few paces from him, "You are Jeffry?"

He replied, "Chang." As was his expected response.

"You may speak Chinese with me."

"Others would be suspicious, my Lady."

She curtsied the way she'd been taught, even though she'd been instructed not to do so for a Chinaman. But it was her way, and Jeffry Chang was her host. All humans looked the same to her.

He bowed in reply. As they wound their way into the crowd he explained, "Your father was taken from the harbour to a boat to be taken to the mainland and then by another boat to Shanghai. We intercepted the second boat posing as a Japanese privateer ship. Your father is returned to the tin Hau Temple, which is where we are going by boat as it is remote from the city. There is a Pokemon Grand Master there who has a wager for you. He believes he has a ball strong enough for you. He is a man of his word, and promises if you allow him to make his best attempt, and if he should win, he asks that you be a guardian of the temple. In either way, your father is welcome to rest at the temple, and you would be most welcome to stay as well, as guardian, or as guest."

Without missing a beat she replied, "For the sake of my father and in gratitude for the kindnesses the temple has shown so far, I will take his wager.

~~~

It was indeed a very strong ball. Any ordinary pokemon would have been overcome, and even she resorted to removing her mask. The ball contained most of the fire but the scorch marks still jetted out in all directions and the chagrined grandmaster gathered his feet underneath himself and bowed to his opponent.

She stood before him and bowed in return, offering back the broken pieces of the ball in her hands. "This was very strong and you should not hesitate to use them until you have one even better. May I stay as guardian nonetheless?"

"We would be honoured, Lady Guardian," he replied as he accepted the broken ball.

"Be kind to my people, Grand Master."

"I fear your wrath too much not to," he replied with a cheeky grin.

~~~

"My lady!" the young monk called, "My lady! The Americans have come for you and your father!"

She gathered her robes about her and crossed he floor to open the door, "Not the British? Sir Chamberlain said-"

"Please, my Lady, you must go now! The British could not be here and the Japanese are coming!"

She touched the young monk's face. He was not allowed to touch a human woman, and he recoiled instinctively, "Take my blessing, monk. For my oath is to my father but my heart is with this temple." She produced a Master ball and gave it to the young monk. "Go to the mountain and challenge the dragon there. Tell him that I sent you. He will understand, and may come aid you, if you're strong enough."

With wide eyes, the monk took the ball with great reverence. The very ball that his temple had perfected decades ago... with the Lady's help. Strong enough to hold even her.

She instructed him, "Be kind to my people."

He bowed deeply and ran to the mountain to find the dragon.

And she fled with her father's sarcophagus to the sea and the waiting American submarine.

~~~

"Agent Johnson, that was not my understanding at all. I was to remain watching over him wherever he was to go."

"And I assure you we have top men looking after his security." The agent struck a match and lit the cigarette between his lips.

She slapped the cigarette out of his mouth with a lighting flick and ground it under her heel. Speechless, Agent Johnson stared back while his partner laughed.

The Englishman stuck out his hand in greeting, "Sir Chamberlain, British Special Operations in conjunction with the American Special Security Service, I believe you knew my grandfather."

She smiled and took his hand, "Charming to finally meet you, Sir Chamberlain. I have a wager for you both."

Agent Johnson rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. "Lady, we have the-"

"Yes, top men, I understand that. Now, understand that empires rose and fell while I slept, and I have stood guard over him for more than four millennia. I will make an attempt to take him from you. It is up to you to prove yourselves capable."

She turned on heel and strode down the dock and into the city of San Francisco.

"I like her," said Sir Chamberlain.

"Neither of us have big enough balls for her," replied Agent Johnson.

~~~

Gliding through the shadows of the warehouse, she knew he was here, somewhere, she could sense him, and there was something else as well. Something distorting her ability to see where he was precisely. And she found it, the thing that was clouding her vision, she slipped up to the top of the pile of crates and looked down the other side, nothing, no one, anywhere, just her, her father somewhere, and this... curious crate. She lifted the lid with a creak noisier than she liked, and looked inside, eyes widening at what she found.

"I wouldn't open that, if I were you," Agent Johnson's voice called from behind. "I know I wasn't terribly polite at our first meeting, and it appears I greatly underestimated your hunting prowess. So, please accept my apology. But do not lift that lid."

Sir Chamberlain rounded the corner at the other end of the line of crates, "This warehouse really could use some tapestries, the decor is simply dreadful. Oh, hello, my Lady, Sekhmet were you called at one time? Bearer of the light of the sun, or the Eye of Ra? Also known as Mighty One?"

The two men approached casually, both held open their jackets to show they had no pokeballs with them. She peered into the crate one more time and then pushed the crate lid back down. She ran an index finger along the side of her mask, and nodded. The two men stood side by side across the aisle from her, Sir Chamberlain nodded, "Precisely."

She nodded her head and turned to the side, "The last thing he said to me before he died, was to go free, and and save myself. But I did not, not until he was safely at rest. I know now that he is safe, and even if his body is not ever safe from desecration, your empires are built on the foundations of his, and in this I know he has achieved immortality. I leave you in peace now, Gentlemen." And she strode down the middle of the aisle towards the sunlight.

"Are we really going to let a weapon of that kind of power walk out of here, Phil?" asked Agent Johnson.

"We are men of honour, Thomas, even if you have an American way of showing it."