Green Sahara, Western Nile Delta, 4899 B.C.
He emerged from the muddy waters of the Iteru River. Mother's vital liquid left his skin sensitive to the sunlight. He grunted. The human who had been fishing on the bank moments ago stumbled and fell. Irion laughed, though it sounded more like a low, reverberating bellow.
"Great Lord Sobek," the human revered him.
Irion passed him by, drooling at the appetizing scent of a sentient creature. He left the marshes, approaching the grasslands. The decadent life of humans was laid out before him. For a million years, his species had been hunted by the Deviants; yet, somehow, these soft cockroaches refused to go extinct.
'In reality,' Mother's voice said in his mind, 'they are thriving.'
He refused to answer; Mother's pride in such lamentable beings as humans annoyed him. She called them her children as much as she did the Deviants. He assumed that was why the supreme leader, Kro, prevented the intelligent Deviants from devouring these creatures.
"Welcome, my lord," a woman greeted him.
She was small, even by the standards of her species.
"Salak," he growled.
"At your service," she gave him an impeccable bow.
"Prepare a meeting with Bakare," he ordered. "I will be waiting for him."
The woman bowed and moved away. The sun began to sting his skin. He waited there for nearly an hour.
'I swear I will kill that vermin if he doesn't arrive quickly,' he complained in his mind.
'You will not,' Mother responded.
Irion shuddered. Mother's voice was heavy with anger, and she projected images of his clan's destruction into his mind. He trembled, bowing his head.
"My lord," a silky voice interrupted him.
He turned his head toward the source. Standing before him was the expected human. He was tall, dark-skinned, and had a well-groomed beard.
"Bakare," he greeted with a grunt.
"How may I serve you, my lord," the human said, smoothing his garments.
'Peacock,' Irion mocked in his mind.
"Gather your armies," he purred. "Your moment has arrived."
"And against whom must I lead my armies?" Bakare asked in a honeyed voice.
"To the south," Irion growled. "The Eternals have founded a new settlement in honor of Arishem, the destroyer of worlds."
"I thought those lands belonged to your brother, Lord Irion," he commented with narrowed eyes.
"They did," Irion roared. A shiver ran through him as he heard the humans moan at the sound of his voice.
"I see."
"Prepare yourself, human," he growled from his throat.
"I will not fail you, Lord Irion," Bakare smiled with pressed lips and a tilted head.
"I will see to it," the Deviant hissed at him. "You already failed five thousand years ago with that simple Yagahl tribe."
"Yes, lord," he nodded with clenched teeth.
"I will be here at dawn on the seventh day," he turned his back. "You will march with the Sheta clan."
"I am honored, my lord," Bakare responded in farewell.
Irion paid him no mind, desperate to return to his waters.
'I will avenge you, Y'frat,' he thought with a huff.
'Kill the humans who dared betray me for Arishem,' Mother ordered.
"Yes," he gurgled beneath the water. "All allies of the Eternals must die."
Green Sahara, Lake Moeris - City of Al Fayyum, 4899 B.C.
The world spun as Perseus swept his feet. The air left his lungs, and soon he saw only the blue morning sky. He let out a dry groan, trying to catch his breath again.
"You've improved," the Eternal commented.
He entered Serq's field of vision, offering a hand. Serq took it, ending up on his backside with his elbows on his knees. The small sting of failure pricked his chest. Panting there on the ground, he thought about the last year of hell he had been subjected to since meeting the 'non-gods' called Eternals.
It had been a bitter pill to swallow when Perseus sat him down and explained the reality of the situation surrounding his strange group. They had been very strange days, especially when they told him he would be the new king of the city they were building. Serq was certain that no one had worked on the social skills of the guy named Ikaris.
"Again," Perseus ordered him.
Serq stood up, struggling with the dull pain of his battered limbs.
"Good," Perseus praised him. "You are learning."
Everyone could complain about Perseus's methods (in fact, they did, all the time), but never about his results. He could see that in the new groups arriving. Since Apep was killed by Perseus, the Great Lake of the South has been a place of welcome for new groups seeking refuge from the demons.
"By way of blows," Serq complained.
"Yes," Perseus shrugged. "That is how the best swords are forged."
Serq cursed his tendency for metaphors. 'One of his eccentricities,' Sprite had told him. He would believe her if he weren't the only one suffering from this 'eccentricity' of Perseus's. He had seen how he trained the others, with a knot in his throat at the thought that he might seek to replace him with others, and yet Perseus never used more than the minimum words for each session.
"You're doing it again," Perseus called his attention.
"Sorry..."
"On guard."
He barely had time to raise his sword and block Perseus's attack. His arms vibrated from the impact, and Serq was disarmed with a strange spiraling movement.
"Not everything is brute force," Perseus reminded him in a whisper.
Serq knew it. Gods above, he understood the concept, but it was impossible to apply.
"This is impossible," he huffed, rubbing his wrist.
"Because you want it to be impossible," Perseus sighed. "Using a xiphos is as simple as hunting..."
"And it took me years to be good at that," Serq rolled his eyes.
"Precisely," Perseus smiled with far too many teeth.
"What?"
"You've only been training with me for a year," he reminded him.
"I know that..."
Serq froze, staring into space.
"Did he finally get it?" Sprite snorted, standing next to her fellow Eternal.
"I hope so," Perseus told her. "Now he must think as he ought to think."
The two of them walked away. Serq followed them with his eyes, shoulders hunched and hands limp at his sides. He didn't know how long he stood there, watching the retreating figures. Finally, with a stinging nose:
"This sucks," he sighed.
"Did he give you the talk too?" a voice asked him.
Serq bristled like a cornered cat and turned violently. Kingo was looking at him from an armory shack, sitting in the building's shadow.
"I don't know..." he admitted. "Is this talk common?"
"No," Kingo sighed, inviting him to sit beside him. Serq obeyed; he winced as the bare ground pricked his skin. "But I heard it for almost a century when he was training your sister."
'His sister.' The thought caused his insides to churn. She was Perseus's pride; he always heard about her and how perfect she was. Compared to her, what was he?
"What do you mean?" It didn't make sense what Kingo was telling him.
The Eternal chuckled lowly.
"The runt spent nearly three-quarters of a century eating dirt," he told him.
"How long?"
"Five and seventy summers," Kingo grumbled.
"Oh," Serq whispered.
"Yeah: 'Oh,'" Kingo laughed. "Just don't tell her I told you this."
Serq nodded wordlessly. Seeing him, Kingo sighed.
"If you keep forcing it, you'll only hurt yourself," he said, looking at the sky with stormy eyes. "Believe me, that doesn't help anyone."
"What would you know about it?" he blurted out with more force than he intended.
Kingo stifled a giggle.
"I know where you are, kid," he patted the human's leg. He stood up, walking away toward the Domo. He stopped, without looking back. "Let this old-timer give you some advice: polish the basics."
And he left him there. Serq watched the retreating Eternal's back with a knot in his throat. Kingo seemed strange to him; he never expected him to give good advice—he had always considered him the 'loud one' of the Eternals. The seriousness in his voice at the end made a chill run through Serq's body.
"The basics," he whispered, bringing his sword to guard.
Green Sahara, Lake Moeris - City of Al Fayyum (The Domo), 4899 B.C.
"How did it go with the human?" Ajak asked as soon as the bridge door opened.
"Could have been Ikaris," Perseus muttered.
"But you aren't," Ajak turned. "Answer."
"Fine..."
He said no more, giving her a steely look.
"That doesn't answer my question," she narrowed her eyes.
"As far as Serq is concerned, that is all you care about," Perseus approached the Eternal leader, raising his chin.
"I must know to inform Arishem—"
"Phastos's scanners detected a large group from the north!" Sersi burst in with bright eyes and a wide smile.
"Duty calls," Perseus said in a raspy whisper.
Ajak did not follow them immediately. She was clenching her jaw so hard her teeth felt cushioned. Her shoulders were slumped, and her right hand was trembling; her face was contorted in a furious grimace.
She hated how everything had twisted since Uruk. Killing Deviants was supposed to be simple, but now her family was splitting, and the worst of them all was Perseus. He was so focused on humans that the only other Eternal he was attached to was Sprite. And his children... she was afraid of what those powerful humans would be capable of, those in whom Perseus took care to cultivate an almost fanatical loyalty. It was very hard. She believed that by allowing the connection between them, he might connect with Arishem's design. She was wrong: Perseus found greater comfort with humans than she expected, and soon enough, he showed his true power: the semi-Eternals.
She left the bridge to reach Phastos's chamber, walking with measured steps. She found them inside, all of them. They were watching on the screen as red silhouettes of humans walked in perfect alignment in fifty-by-fifty grids. Ajak counted at least a dozen of those formations. She felt a punch in her gut.
"It is the largest group we will ever receive," Sersi chirped.
'Never change, Sersi,' Ajak thought with almost physical pain.
"Those aren't refugees, Sersi," Perseus growled.
It was the first time she had seen him almost murderous; he filled the entire room with the smell of ozone.
"What do you mean?" Sersi asked with a trembling voice.
"Battle formation," he hissed, spinning on his heels.
"What are you going to do?" Ajak asked him, raising her voice.
Perseus stopped, turning to face her.
"Prepare the humans for war," he responded, his eyes glowing blue.
"We cannot interfere in human squabbles," she reminded him.
Perseus approached her until their noses nearly touched. Ajak returned his gaze with hard eyes, ready for the argument. But Perseus said nothing; instead, he smiled. She felt a gag reflex just seeing him.
"Do you really think so many humans could gather without Kro's permission?" he asked in a vicious purr. "Remember that he is intelligent..."
He turned abruptly.
"Prepare for battle," he growled to the rest.
Kingo and Thena didn't even hesitate to follow him. Ajak watched them leave the room without looking at her. She looked back at the rest: Makkari gestured to Druig before following the other three; Gilgamesh apologized to her with his eyes before retreating.
"It isn't true," Sersi's eyes were misty.
Ajak felt her heart break. It was too early...
"Perseus is right," Ikaris spoke, as if his words pained him.
"I'll tell him you said that," Sprite smirked. He ignored her.
"We must be ready," he looked at her with dull eyes and slumped shoulders.
The Eternal leader stopped feeling the ground.
'The mission shouldn't be like this,' she thought, watching the last of the group's combatants leave the room.