How much time has passed he cannot tell, when Anubis says, “Servant!”

He stands, turns.

“Approach!” says Anubis, and he does so.

“You may rise. You know what night tonight is?”

“Yes, Master. It is Thousandyear Eve.”

“It is your Thousandyear Eve. This night we celebrate an anniversary. You have served me for a full thousand years in the House of the Dead. Are you glad?”

“Yes, Master…”

“You recall my promise?”

“Yes. You told me that if I served you faithfully for a thousand years, then you would give me back my name. You would tell me who I had been in the Middle Worlds of Life.”

“I beg your pardon, but I did not.”

“You…?”

“I told you that I would give you a name, which is a different thing altogether.”

“But I thought…”

“I do not care what you thought. Do you want a name?”

“Yes, Master…”

“… But you would prefer your old one? Is that what you are trying to say?”

“Yes.”

“Do you really think that anyone would remember your name after ten centuries? Do you think that you were so important in the Middle Worlds that someone would have noted down your name, that it would have mattered to anyone?”

“I do not know.”

“But you want it back?”

“If I may have it, Master.”

“Why? Why do you want it?”

“Because I remember nothing of the Worlds of Life. I would like to know who I was when I dwelled there.”

“Why? For what purpose?”

“I cannot answer you, because I do not know.”

“Of all the dead,” says Anubis, “you know that I have brought only you back to full consciousness to serve me here. Do you feel this means that perhaps there is something special about you?”