Although he didn't know much about Egypt, there were still some very famous figures that Dawn recognized.
Looking at the face before him, both familiar and strange, a sense of absurdity rose in his heart, and he couldn't help but call out its name.
Clack—
The jackal-headed man began to move slowly.
The rough walls seemed to ripple with folds as though something had brushed against them.
Then, large chunks of plaster started to peel away. The hanging picture frames seemed to decay in an instant, turning into rotten wood that crashed to the floor.
Pop!
The light source on the ceiling suddenly went out.
Damn it!
Dawn snapped back to his senses, grabbed his wand, and the words for the Shield Charm rushed to his lips.
But the next moment—
A sudden, stabbing pain blocked every word in his throat!
Dawn looked down in disbelief.
Right then…
A plain-looking spear had pierced clean through his chest!
"Fuck…"
The curse slipped out of Dawn's mouth by instinct.
Pop!
The spear was pulled back!
A gush of blood was violently dragged out with it!
It felt as if a hollow had been carved into his chest. The strength in his limbs drained away rapidly. His back hit the wall, leaving a streak of blood as he slid to the floor.
But—
Though he couldn't move, it was as if he could see through the darkness, watching everything with perfect clarity!
Anubis withdrew the spear and placed the scale in his right hand on the ground.
He removed the heart impaled on the spear and set it on one side of the scale. Then he took out a light feather and placed it on the other.
Creak—
Creak—
The scale made a sound that set his teeth on edge. The two pans began to sway up and down on the pivot.
Slowly.
The side with the feather rose, while the heart was pressed lower and lower.
.....
!!!
Dawn's eyes snapped open. He bolted upright in bed, gasping for breath.
His back was soaked with sweat.
He whipped his head toward the door. But in the faint light, there was only a quietly closed door panel.
The walls of the room were smooth.
No fallen plaster, no shattered frames. Everything was exactly the same as before he'd gone to sleep!
Even the detection charms he'd set before bed hadn't been disturbed in the slightest.
So…
Was it a dream?!
Dawn pressed a hand to his chest, which still seemed to ache faintly.
Had he dreamed of the Egyptian death god Anubis because he'd heard so much about pyramids and pharaohs during the day?
He pressed his other hand against his throbbing temple.
No…
No, that wasn't it!
This couldn't have been just a dream!
His face darkened as he reached for the switch by the bed, letting warm light spill into the corners of the room.
He was used to dreaming, especially when he was younger—he often dreamed of scenes that felt like memories from another life.
But even in those dreams that stayed vivid after waking, any injury inside them never carried over to reality.
Yet that dream with Anubis… had been far too real. Even the pain was crystal clear!
"Damn it, could it be a curse?"
Egypt was famous for such things, and the thought made him grit his teeth.
But… when exactly would it have happened?
He frowned, mentally retracing his steps that day.
The bar. The bookshop. The camel ride back. Gringotts. Dinner. Finding the inn. Studying Egyptian Translation: English Edition.
Then, at ten in the evening, washing up and lying down to sleep.
At that thought, he glanced at the clock.
It was now four in the morning.
Dawn took out a bottle of invigorating potion, downed it in one go, then stepped barefoot out of bed. He stared at the Egyptian Translation: English Edition on the table and sat down to think.
If it was a curse, who could have placed it on him?
The bar owner?
He frowned deeper.
He'd been careful—so careful that he hadn't taken a single sip of the iced water the bar owner had poured for him.
If someone could curse him just by talking, Dawn would never believe it.
Then maybe… the scrawny old man in the bookshop selling fake amulet charms?
If he had to make a suspect list, that man was definitely more suspicious than the bar owner. He had been going on and on about curses, after all.
But what would give him the ability to do something like this?
Dawn flipped through the book in front of him again. He was sure it was nothing but an ordinary book.
Could a curse really attach itself to one of the fake rings he'd seen earlier?
That was ridiculous!
So…
What was going on?
His mind turned again to that Egyptian woman with the golden bracelets.
She hated British people, so in theory, cursing him would make sense. But just like with the bar owner, he didn't believe anyone could curse him through conversation alone!
Dawn recalled, one by one, all the people he'd interacted with that day.
Other than those three, most had been Muggles—he was certain of that; he could see the haze of magic, after all.
Or could it be… that he'd unknowingly violated some taboo and brought the curse on himself?
His thoughts grew tangled.
They circled back to the dream itself.
He got up and opened the bedside cabinet.
Perhaps because this hostel hosted foreign travelers, there were several magazines in foreign languages in the room.
One of them was in English.
Dawn returned to the desk, laid the magazine flat, and turned to the section on Egyptian mythology.
Anubis…
In Egyptian mythology, "the afterlife" was an extremely important concept. Some ancient pharaohs made themselves into mummies, hoping to continue their rule in the next life.
Thus, Anubis, who presided over death, was deeply revered, and his image often appeared on tomb murals.
Dawn frowned and flipped the page.
After a long passage of text, the next page held a large illustration of an ancient scale—with a heart on one side and a feather on the other.
He thought of what Anubis had held in his right hand in the dream.
In Egyptian mythology, the heart was seen as a symbol of the deceased's deeds and moral character in life, while the feather represented justice and truth.
If the heart's weight was equal to or less than the feather, the deceased was deemed innocent and allowed to enter the eternal world.
If the heart was heavier, it meant the person was guilty, and their heart would be devoured by the monster Ammit, causing a "second death"—never to be reborn.
Dawn pressed a hand to his chest, frowning as he read the description.
In the dream, he had awoken because his heart was lighter than the feather.
Did that mean…
If his heart had been heavier than the feather, he would have died under this curse?
But what was the standard of judgment?
Even he didn't think of himself as embodying justice or truth—so why would his heart be lighter than the feather?
His brow furrowed tighter and tighter.
He had never expected that on his second day in Egypt, he would run into something this absurd!
Dawn gritted his teeth.
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