"As you have most likely been made aware of," the old man said above the gallery noise, "we all have a name, known only to one another, that identifies us by our personality, intellect, and character." He lowered his voice as the crowd noise subsided. He looked at me as he continued. "These bodies we have now will wither and eventually fail us. They are transitory. When it dies, the name by which the outside world knows it dies as well. Every one of us will see each other in many different forms, but we will know the transcending, surviving individual within, and that is what our names are for. Do you have a name by which you would like to be called?"

I stood up to address him. "I do. I choose Evan, for I start in this journey as the man I am now."

"So noted. Welcome Evan," he said.

The members of the gallery left their seats and walked toward me. Their collective voices came as one continuous polyglot greeting.

"Welcome home brother."

"I'm glad you made it."

"Evan, I like that name. It suits you somehow."

"I've so looked forward to meeting you, Evan."

I acknowledged their comments as quickly as I caught them, trying to shake as many hands and greet as many faces as possible.

"Attention, can I have your attention please!" shouted the Egyptian. "Before we get carried away, I think it would behoove us to begin Evan's welcoming ceremony."

"Oh that's right, I almost forgot," the bun woman said.

"Yes, the welcoming ceremony," came a voice from the back.

"Places please," said the Egyptian, motioning everyone close to the opening in the curtain next to the stone wall.

The crowd assembled in two parallel rows, like receiving lines. Three members of the panel came over, leaving the old man and the Egyptian standing near their seats. I stood between the two lines, unsure of what to do. I looked back toward the panel for guidance but was distracted by the black, semi-clothed figure that emerged from the other side of the curtain and faced me. He was enormous, standing almost a foot taller than me. His ebony arms and legs were as thick as tree trunks. He wore only a pair of baggy, fire red silk pants and a tasseled fez.

I smiled nervously and took a step back. He closed the distance between us just as I looked over and saw the Egyptian remove the spear from the wall above the panel. I quickly moved away from him but it was too late. His black python arms enveloped me and in seconds I was immobilized with my arms pinned behind me. The Egyptian, spear in hand, walked casually to the opening at the end of the lines as I bucked in a panic against the giant's vise-like grip.

"What in the world is going on here?" shouted Samas behind me.