She was once an archaeologist in Ancient Egypt, dedicated to discovering as much as she could about her nation's history. Known as Sahirah the Nightwalker, she became notorias for working through the nights and hiding away in the day, for the nights were easier to work by.

Alone one night, deep into a hole of her own making as she dug for a lost statue, the sands shifted. Not in the usual sand sliding from one place to another way, but in a way that some dunes were suddenly there and others were not there. It felt to her as if she had slipped sideways to some other place.

And that she had, as she saw when she emerged from the sands.

Grey, moonlit dunes stretching for as far as she could see welcomed her. It was strangely cold, but not in a way that left you chilled. Dotted among the dunes she could make out flat surfaces that glinted with reflected light, that later she would find were called mirrors.

She wandered for a while, examining the landscape and the mirrors alike, until she was entirely lost. The moons rose and set, but no sun ever arrived. Only small, pale wisps kept her company.

Eventually, she found a patch of reeds and rested there.

Hours or days passed, she could not tell. She was neither hungry nor thirsty, nor bored in this new place. There was the wisps and the mirrors to look for. At some point, she followed a track of pawprints, but she soon lost them again.

But they did not lose her.

A blue hued hound shadowed her, snapping at the wisps that followed in her wake. Gradually he came closer and closer until he could feast on the wisps, and she let him in facination. What was this beast, that ate insubstantial beings?

Over so long this carried on. Her wandering, him following, until some day another sideways slip happened and she was thrown into a world of people and carts and bustling noise. To them, she appeared to be a ghost from the past, pale and dressed in the clothes of another time. To them, she was there to be a guiding hand over their fates, just as any god was.

And god she became, in a way. They followed her, worshipped her and her moonlit appearances, her ghostly soul, until she could take it no more and slipped back to the moonlit dunes of the Duat.

Over and over this happened. She grew to enjoy the trips into the real world, enjoyed to see how, over the years and years that changed society, she was still considered a deity. And over these years the hound she had dubbed Yeth grew hungry for souls, for the wisps were leaving her now.

And so, she became a reaper for her beloved hound