Silence closed in around me, broken only by the faint crackling of the oil lamp. Its weak glow flickered on the stone walls, casting distorted shapes that danced mockingly. The smell of bitter herbs mixed sharply with the stale odor of blood and sweat, nearly choking me.
I stared at Ereshgal—my cousin, my closest rival, my fiercest ally. The only one I ever believed in after my father died—lying still and pale under bandages soaked through with dark, almost black blood. The wound on his shoulder looked worse now, swollen to the point where the fabric bulged over it. Even through the layers of linen, I could make out the flesh beneath—already darkened, already starting to rot. Twisted violet veins crawled outward from the injury, weaving down his arm and across his chest like cracks in ice. It was the Wendigo's toxin, alive beneath his skin, spreading slowly but surely, as if claiming him inch by inch.
My chest tightened painfully. I dug my nails into my palms until they hurt, barely noticing the sting or the taste of blood as I bit down on my lip. A single thought hammered relentlessly at my mind:
I shouldn't have hesitated. If only I'd ignored him and arrived sooner… this wouldn't be happening.
I reached forward, fingers trembling as I gently pressed a damp cloth to his burning forehead. His skin radiated heat, fever clawing its way through him, relentless and cruel.
"He's burning up"
I whispered, my voice barely audible even to myself.
I didn't move.
Didn't leave.
Exhaustion slowly claimed me, dragging me into reluctant darkness as I rested my head against the rough edge of his bed.
A gentle hand stirred me awake. I jolted upright, heart racing, eyes wide. Ninsun's calm gaze met mine, her expression weary but resolute.
"How is he?"
My voice cracked, betraying the panic I fought to suppress.
"Has the fever broken?"
She shook her head slowly, a deep sorrow shadowing her usually unshakeable composure.
"No. And it won't—not without Alubane."
I stiffened at the name. Alubane—it was gone. I'd overheard the priestesses saying it just yesterday. They believed the last of it had been used in research months ago.
"We can't wait"
I said sharply, voice edged with desperation.
"Send me. I'll bring it back—"
"No" she said softly at first, but then her voice firmed.
"I spoke to Lugalbanda about it. We agreed—he has to go. If we send someone else to retrieve the Alubane and wait for their return, it'll be too late. Ten days, at least. He won't survive that."
My stomach twisted.
"But… what about a chosen? Someone faster? They could—"
She shook her head.
"They're all deployed, already too far. They wouldn't make it in time."
I stepped closer, struggling to keep my voice steady.
"Then let me go with him. As a guard. I can help."
Ninsun's eyes softened, but she didn't waver.
"I know you want to. But the guards have already been chosen. They're preparing now."
I opened my mouth again, desperate for a reason to fight her on this—but her hand touched my shoulder. Not cold this time. Just tired. Motherly.
"I'm not saying this as a queen" she said.
"I'm saying it as someone who's scared for him too. The guards have already been chosen—there's no space to add anyone else now."
She paused, her hand still on my shoulder.
"And you… you need to clear your head. This weight you're carrying—it's not helping him right now. Go train, Kisaya. Let your body move, let your mind breathe. Even just for a while."
I nodded, because I didn't know what else to do. Then I turned away, legs stiff, heart sinking low in my chest.
...
The training ground was cold and gray.
There were the usual ones—Tarin, Neval, Ilkar, Erenai, Darek—but not Ereshgal. For once, there were no metallic clangs, no echoes of sparring swords. The stillness felt wrong. I stood stiffly among the others, every muscle tense. Ashren's voice broke the quiet, calm but edged with tension.
"As you know, you're in the first stage of your divine pact" he began, eyes scanning each face with piercing clarity.
"To move forward, you'll need to deepen your bond with the god who chose you" Ashren said, his voice even.
"Right now, your energy is dull—fragile, unstable. But that can change. That's the point of this stage. You're not stuck here. You can evolve. But it takes more than training drills."
He turned slightly, tone still calm but steady.
"To move from dull to dim—when your energy finally begins to emit a glow—you'll notice real changes. Your body will grow stronger, you'll gain a new rune, and... something else. But we'll talk about that later."
Ashren clasped his hands behind his back, pacing slowly as his gaze swept over the group.
"To reach that stage, one must first master the fundamentals: holding a basic rune flawlessly, and maintaining a steady spiritual flow over an extended period. With enough training and consistency, it's entirely possible."
His gaze hardened.
"But that's not enough. To truly reach the next stage, you have to complete a trial. It's different for each of you. A voluntary sacrifice. An unbreakable vow. An act of compassion. Or defiance when silence would be easier. The clue lies in your divine edict—because your god gave it to you for a reason. Whatever you do, it has to match the will of the one who chose you."
He looked around again.
"It might sound simple—but it's not. It has to come from the heart. If you hesitate, you fail."
"These are the known ways to strengthen the bond—at least in the first stage. But remember: not all blessings evolve at the same pace. Sometimes, the gods expect more. And sometimes... they simply wait until you're ready."
A heavy silence settled over us, broken abruptly by Tarin's mocking voice. He stood casually, a smirk twitching his lips.
"And what exactly are the gods expecting from us…" he drawled, his eyes sweeping coldly across the crowd,
"when even they don't seem to want someone alive?"
Anger surged up before I could stop it, and I stepped forward, fists clenched tight.
"What are you implying, Tarin?" I couldn't hold back.
Tarin shrugged lazily, meeting my glare without flinching.
"Isn't it obvious? We all heard the news. The gods won't heal him. They've decided his fate."
I snapped, lunging forward, my voice rising to a shout.
"You'd abandon him to die? After everything he's done, everything he's faced—he's more than you'll ever be!"
Tarin's smile widened, cruel and sharp.
"Yet my wounds healed" he mocked.
"Maybe the gods have spoken clearly enough. Trying to save him will only provoke their anger."
I lost control, my Edict flaring like fire through my veins. I shoved Tarin violently, my rune sparking, my voice venomous.
"You're pathetic! Ereshgal defeated the Wendigo when you couldn't even stand your ground! And you dare speak of what the gods want?"
Ashren's voice cut through my rage, sharp and commanding.
"Kisaya, enough! Stand down."
Breathing hard, I stepped back, hands still trembling. Tarin's voice drifted after me, low and mocking.
"If anyone needs help finishing him off, you know where to find me."
A fury I couldn't contain burst from within. Before I knew it, I had traced my rune, its glow fierce and violent. My hand found Tarin's throat, slamming him backward into the dirt. Eyes wide with shock and fear stared back at me.
"Say it again" I snarled, my voice deadly quiet.
"I dare you."
A strong grip seized my wrist, dragging me away. Ashren's voice thundered, harsh with authority.
"That's enough, Kisaya!"
I stumbled back, breathless and shaking, my pulse hammering in my ears as I turned and walked away, Tarin's rasping coughs echoing behind me.
Outside the training yard, alone again, my rage faded into a profound emptiness.
Ereshgal would soon be gone, facing a fate uncertain. And I—I stood alone, trapped by my Edict, unable to do anything while everything spun beyond our control.