Dawn had broken some time ago. The god of the Nasndernians of Khemet, DiptsurRá, was once again saving the universe with his power. In the instants before he saw the sun, Krarvathar felt two things: contemplation and hatred.
His awakened mind seemed to love questioning, while his draconic nature boiled his spirit against the audacity of that god in changing him. Yet he also felt another sensation—a strangeness.
He was seated on a bench, having remained like that for a while, observing the unconscious body of the young acolyte.
Neftraya had told him the girl would be fine and then left her there, heading to her own chambers. Krarvathar, for his part, felt he should stay by the girl's side.
"She sacrificed herself for you, my lord," were the words the priestess had spoken. Those words left the dragon deeply unsettled. His mind quickly grasped the concept, but understanding it did not make it any less confusing.
After sunrise, Neftraya appeared to inform him that she would meet the pharaoh at a sacrifice in the temple. She mentioned something else about servants to attend to Krarvathar's needs, and that he should remain in her palace until she returned. He simply agreed.
To Krarvathar, the priestess was a woman full of secrets and strange behaviors. But she was still useful.
He looked at an object in the room, and his mind—now tied to Meanings—immediately answered that it was a table. He looked at what rested on the wooden structure and understood: papyri, inks, boxes, candles. Gold.
He looked at himself, and saw confusion.
He rose from the chair. Ever since he had lain in the water to converse within himself, one question had lingered:
"What is the point of knowing everything outside myself while remaining ignorant of who I am?"
Krarvathar had undergone tremendous mental evolution since the early hours—regarding memories, the present moment, desires, and wills—but that did not seem to be all that he was.
The room was suitable for an ordinary person, but to him it felt small, stifling. The smallness of everything still offended his eyes.
The dragon turned his gaze back to the sleeping young Lizhireri, and for the first time he did not feel that powerful natural urge to kill. Moreover, his instinct—now supported by reason—acknowledged that she was necessary.
He had other problems to resolve: the priestess Maelis and the blazing sun in the sky. He walked toward the door to leave the room, and then his body felt a warning—an ancient yet natural pulse.
He stepped out into the corridor. The servants who were there fled to the corners and quickly bowed. Turning a corner, he reached an open colonnade of pillars and arches overlooking the courtyard below. He placed his hand on the balustrade and looked up at the sky: blue, hot, the sun shining.
"The elves are coming. I can feel… that Thswoner." His lips curved into a smile; his fingers tightened and effortlessly crushed that section of the wall, sending fragments tumbling into the courtyard below.
On impulse, he leaped through the open roof and landed lightly on the terracotta-tiled rooftop without breaking it. From there, he surveyed a vast portion of the city of men.
When he had confronted the pharaoh the day before, Krarvathar had been able to stare directly at the sun without concern. Now his eyes felt a slight discomfort. That discomfort was part of his hatred.
"Your insolence will not be forgiven, DiptsurRá. Return my body. Now."
The sun continued to shine in the sky.
"Damned god, hiding behind blinding light, coward." Krarvathar clenched his fists; his black tunic whipped violently in the sudden gust of wind.
"I will kill the elves—not because you wish it, but because I was created for it." He shouted at the sky, his yellow irises staring unflinchingly into the yellow of the heavens.
"Do you think you're the only one who shines on high? Then wait right there—I'll show you just how far my light can reach." He smiled, turned his body toward the direction from which his enemies were approaching—even though they were still very far away—and felt a surge of anticipation, wishing they would arrive soon.
Then he turned again toward the north, the direction Neftraya had gone, for he could sense her presence, and began walking that way.