[While Setarek received the news from the elf and Uras had his encounter with Jóarnaliel]
Neftraya preferred to wait a while before bringing Lizhireri to Kharvathar. The priestess told the girl all the information she needed, for God Amophf had said to her, as she returned from her conversation with the pharaoh: "As soon as he entered himself and searched his mind, I felt the golden eyes staring at me. He did not recognize me, and I left."
Knowing that Amophf's presence—even in his weakened power—had been perceived by Kharvathar was something she should have foreseen.
However, Lizhireri's existence was a great trump card, as the pharaoh's First Wife had told her years ago when she left the young woman in her hands to train.
Kharvathar had spent considerable time floating and thinking in silence, and he had made great progress. The same being who had entered the pool was not the same one who opened his eyes upon hearing the priestess's approaching footsteps.
He submerged the lower part of his body underwater, remaining in an upright position.
"I brought you new clothes; I saw you tore the old robe." The priestess smiled, gesturing toward the young woman carrying fabrics of black and red. Lizhireri felt her heart race when she met Kharvathar's gaze. By instinct, she bowed her head.
"I followed your advice," he returned his gaze to Neftraya, his voice deep but calm. "Indeed, I learned much by looking at myself." Kharvathar began to emerge from the water.
Neftraya smiled, satisfied. Lizhireri bowed, raising her arms with the fabrics.
"And how do you feel now?" Neftraya was curious to know about this evolution of his. Kharvathar took the fabrics from the young woman's hands and unfolded them.
A single glance at the cloth was enough for the Meanings to appear in his mind, and he understood how to dress. Unlike the last one—a random assortment of cloths—this was a black tunic that covered his shoulders, descending over his chest to the knee, yet leaving his arms bare.
The other fabric, red, wrapped around his waist.
"For lack of time, I have not yet had a garment made to your measurements," the priestess smiled. Lizhireri turned her gaze back to Kharvathar; the young woman was in awe.
"It will serve." He observed his body in the new ensemble.
"My lord is—"
"More human?" He interrupted her, completing the thought, and gave a smile that Neftraya interpreted as presumptuous.
"I am a little more certain of myself. But that does not mean I have set aside my desires." He pointed out, wanting to avoid any confused thought on her part.
"Yes. Indeed, that is why I brought her." Neftraya presented the girl.
"My lord," the girl's brown cheeks flushed. She believed she was seeing a physical god, and that was one of her greatest desires.
Kharvathar looked at the girl.
"Neftraya." It was the first time the dragon had used her name. He then fixed his gaze on her. And also for the first time since the priestess had courageously approached the dragon after his fall, she felt fear when looking at him—despite the calm expression she returned. "I felt in my mind, during meditation, an invasive gaze. Was that your doing?" This was one of the hypotheses the dragon had reached, and he decided to ask.
Her heart pounded fast, but it did not disturb any calm muscle in her face. Hours earlier, her attempt to help Kharvathar had not failed—but it had been made with another intention.
"Yes," she admitted, fearing he might somehow discover it. "To help awaken your true being."
It was not a lie, merely a half-truth.
Neftraya had dared, based on the fact that Kharvathar still did not understand about the gods. But she was prepared—always had been—since Amophf showed her the visions and she had tormented Uras with them. Without fear of death and love for the unknown—that was what drove her.
"I understand," Kharvathar said, surprising Neftraya by not pressing the matter further. He looked at the girl. "And what will she do?"
"What I could not do." The priestess smiled.