(Ereshgal POV)
Morning had arrived, and the room was all light, walls washed to a pale gold, dust motes drifting like slow sparks above the jug and the plant. The lamp's wick had burned down to a lump of cooled black. I hadn't closed my eyes once.
More than two days now without sleep.
And I didn't feel tired.
Do I even need it anymore?
I pressed my fingers to my throat. My skin was smooth and cold. The thirst was already starting to bother me, but it was bearable—for now. By afternoon, I'd probably have to feed again.
All night I'd done what I'd avoided since I woke: I'd thought. Not about what to do next, about what I'd turned into
I raised my hand, closed it slowly, watched the tendons shift under skin that no longer warmed. This power. I clenched my fist and held it there, feeling the strength build beneath the surface.
I wasn't human anymore.
But I wasn't useless either.
It isn't purely evil. Just wild, unknown, still beyond my understanding. But that doesn't make it wrong. It's power, and power is never gentle. Without it, a king is nothing.
A weak king doesn't protect his people; he buries them. In a world ruled by gods and monsters, fear doesn't keep you alive, strength does.
After everything I'd learned since waking—about my sister, about Uruk—I finally understood.
This power still frightens me, maybe it always will.
But it's mine now.
It may destroy me one day. Until then, it's my weapon.
And I'll use it.
Slowly, I loosened my grip. The tension left my hand.
"Good morning, Eresh."
Kisaya's voice came from the other bed. She pushed herself up on an elbow, hair tangled, eyes clearing.
"Good morning, Kisaya" I said. I pointed to the corner of my mouth. "You slept well."
She blinked, rubbed one eye, then touched the corner of her lips. A thin line of drool. Color struck her cheeks like a slap.
"How could you say that right when I wake up? Have you ever heard of manners, Eresh?"
I laughed, and for a moment, the air felt lighter.
Kisaya moved to the jug, poured water into the basin, and splashed her face. I followed, even though I didn't need to.
Still grumpy, she dried her hands, but her expression softened almost immediately.
"How did you sleep?" she asked.
"I didn't."
Her head lifted lightly.
"I don't think I need to sleep anymore" I said. "At least, I don't feel like I do."
Worry returned to her face, the same look she'd worn since I woke. It seemed almost permanent now.
"Don't worry" I said. "I feel fine. But I'll need to drink again this afternoon."
Kisaya nodded, her face tightening. She already knew what I'd done yesterday, and that it probably wasn't safe to do it again.
"Then I'll stay close" she said, forcing a small smile. "In case anything happens."
We didn't stay long after that. Within minutes, we'd gathered our things and stepped outside.
The city in the morning felt completely different. The light made everything look sharper, cleaner. The walls shone as if they'd never seen dust. The streets were straight, the corners swept, every wall freshly white. Even the air felt clear and dry, untouched by night.
Voices filled the roads, merchants calling, children shouting, sandals tapping against stone. Sippar glowed under the sun, like it had never known darkness.
It felt strange, too… perfect.
"I've been expecting you" a voice said.
The same acolyte from yesterday was waiting nearby, hands folded, posture straight. He bowed the moment he saw us.
"The High Chosen is waiting. Please follow me"
So Ishtal didn't want to waste time. Good, neither did I.
We followed. The city kept surprising me. Stalls stood open for a moment, then not, the sellers moved without worry. Their confidence wasn't faith, just habit. Even the thieves here must be obedient. Order makes hunger look like discipline.
I kept my hood low, but eyes still turned my way before quickly looking elsewhere. People here trusted their gates like they trusted their gods, if you'd made it inside, you had to be clean. And if you weren't, the city would make you.
"We've arrived" he said. "The High Chosen is inside." He bowed again and left.
The acolyte stopped in front of a house, large, built from pale stone.
Kisaya stayed outside.
We'd agreed I would go alone. With Ishtal, she was an open book, her Edict gave her away, and he was the kind of man who noticed everything.
I stepped through the door.
Ishtal sat in a wooden chair with a cup of wine in his hand, watching me with quiet interest.
"Could you take off your hood?" he asked, casual as a nod. "I'd like to see you."
I raised my hands and pulled the hood back.
For a heartbeat, his eyes actually widened. "It really is you. I expected as much, but… seeing it with my own eyes is different."
He paused, sighed, then smiled.
"It's good that you're alive, little brother."
I narrowed my eyes. The word good didn't fit in his mouth. "Is it really good, Ishtal?"
"Haha, you wound me, little brother. Of course it's good! More than you know."
I didn't care to follow him into whatever game he thought we were playing. "What did you want to talk about?"
"Don't rush. For now, sit down and have some wine." He gestured to the chair across from him and the cup waiting on the table.
I sat but didn't touch the cup. I wasn't going to try it, my body would probably reject it.
"Why did you leave Kisaya outside?" he asked, his smile fading into something almost sad.
I didn't answer. His question wasn't real, it never was.
After a pause, the smile returned, smoother than before. "Does it have something to do with her divine edict?" he asked.
I didn't even move a muscle in my face. I hated that part of him. My hand tightened under the table. He hadn't changed, always calm, always talking like every word was a way to pull something out of you.
"Where is Ennari?" I asked. "I didn't come here to listen to you play games."
"Before that…" He tilted his head slightly.
His expression didn't change. In the next breath, his spiritual energy flared, sharp, gathering in his arms and legs. He moved before I could react. One step, and a blade was at my neck.
"Why aren't you breathing?"