(Ereshgal POV)
The sun was already high, and the wind carried more dust than air. The farther we went, the harsher it grew—dry ground, cracked earth, the forest long behind us.
The hunger had gone quiet, but it hadn't disappeared. It lingered under my skin, waiting.
Even after feeding on so many animals, it wasn't enough. Their blood calmed the ache, dulled it, but the emptiness remained. I could still feel it in my throat, like a hollow echo that refused to fade.
Still, it was bearable.
For now.
But why had it appeared so suddenly?
I'd felt fine after waking, everything seemed normal, or as normal as it could be. But after the training, it started. A slow pull at first, then sharper, stronger. And it kept getting worse. Why? What changed?
I can't let it happen again. Before it starts, before it gets worse, I'll have to drink blood again.
Kisaya ran ahead, keeping a few paces between us. She hadn't said much since last night. Her silence felt different, heavier somehow. Cautious, maybe. Every so often she glanced back, just for a second… trying to hide it, but her face hadn't changed since the forest, the same mix of worry and fear.
I couldn't blame her.
After what she saw, after what I became, fear was the only reasonable reaction.
Hours passed before Kisaya finally spoke.
"We're not far from Sippar" she said quietly, her voice careful, almost hesitant. She slowed, wiping sweat from her brow without looking at me.
"We made better time than I expected. What's the plan once we get there?"
My mind went blank for a moment. With everything that had happened, I hadn't even thought about what came next.
But Sippar wasn't just another city. The followers of Shamash held power there, and Ishtal was one of his chosen. Even if he came from Uruk, his position couldn't be low. Maybe we should contact him… or maybe finding Ennari first would be safer.
I glanced at Kisaya. "Is there a way to learn anything about Ishtal before we enter the city?"
Kisaya shook her head. "Not really. Information from Sippar never comes easy. Too many of Shamash's followers running things." She continued, her voice flat. "You know the saying: In Sippar, secrets have a price."
Shamash's worshippers had always been fanatics. Justice was their god's domain, but the way they pursued it twisted everything it touched. They didn't serve justice, they worshipped punishment.
"Then what do we do?" I asked.
She thought for a moment. "They should recognize me if I go. As a Captain of Uruk, I should be able to enter without trouble."
I frowned. "Won't that raise questions?"
"Not if I'm careful" she replied. "Darek's report will reach the council before we return. They'll assume my mission led me there." She hesitated. "The problem is…"
"That I'm going with you, right? That would look suspicious."
Kisaya nodded. "Especially with your golden eyes."
Right. That would draw attention.
Even if they believe I'm dead, no one else has ever shared my eye color. It would be too easy for them to suspect.
I was about to answer when the view ahead changed. A white wall stretched across the horizon, tall and immaculate, sunlight reflecting off it like polished ivory.
"We're almost at Sippar, aren't we?" I asked quietly.
"Yes, quite close. Why do you ask?" Kisaya replied.
"I can see the walls." I pointed ahead.
She looked at me, surprised, then turned her gaze forward again to check. Narrowing her eyes, she focused spiritual energy into them; a faint violet glow sharpened her vision. Her expression shifted.
"…You're right" she murmured. "You can see it from here without enhancing your sight?"
I nodded, saying nothing. Her expression had changed again, worried, like before.
We continued in silence.
The closer we drew, the clearer it became, and the more imposing the wall looked. They weren't as vast as the ones in Uruk, but impressive in their own way. A flawless expanse of white stone that seemed to command the horizon. Its presence alone felt deliberate, almost divine.
At its center gleamed a golden disc, massive and bright, engraved with the symbol of Shamash, an eye with four radiant points extending outward. From a distance, it looked like a sun carved into the world.
Near the base, I saw something. When I realized what it was, I frowned.
Kisaya caught my expression. "They call the area outside the wall the Ring of Shadow" she said quietly.
"Why?"
"Because everyone down there was judged unworthy of Shamash's light" she said softly. "They wait for permission to enter… but it almost never comes."
With each step, the walls looked even more pristine—bright, unblemished, almost sacred. In contrast, the ground below told another story. Tents and broken carts covered the sand. Smoke from cookfires mixed with the stench of decay. Children crouched near puddles of foul water, drinking without hesitation. Thin men watched from doorless shacks, their faces hollow, their eyes dulled by waiting.
Merchants shouted over each other, fighting to sell scraps to the desperate. Pilgrims knelt in the dust, whispering prayers to a god who'd long stopped listening.
Beyond them, the gates of Sippar gleamed like a false heaven.
Outside the domain of the god of light, justice, and truth, there shouldn't have been this much misery.
"That's justice?" I muttered, my voice low.
Kisaya didn't answer. She didn't need to.
We slowed to a walk, moving deeper into the Ring.
The stench was overwhelming. Rotting food, human waste, smoke. The air itself felt sick. Flies swarmed over everything that didn't move fast enough. The sound of coughing echoed from every direction.
Every heartbeat around me—weak, irregular, but alive—reached my ears like a whisper. My throat tightened. The hunger stirred again. I clenched my teeth and looked away.
Control.
Kisaya noticed me stop. "Eresh?"
"I'm fine" I said quickly.
Kisaya nodded, but didn't move. "Do we go in?" she asked.
"It's better if you go alone" I replied. "Try to find information about Ishtal. Once we know more, we'll decide what to do."
She drew a breath. "It's fine, I'll think of something. Let's go in together."
"No." I shook my head. "It's better if I stay here. The fewer eyes that see me, the safer we'll be."
Her jaw tightened. "If something happens, I won't be able to help you."
I met her eyes, irritation creeping in. "You don't have to protect me. Or are you just making sure I don't make a mistake?"
"That's not it" she said sharply, stepping closer. "You were barely standing yesterday. I just…" Her words faltered, eyes flicking down before meeting mine again. "I don't like the idea of leaving you here alone."
For a moment, I didn't answer. The honesty in her voice—raw, unguarded—cut through everything else. I'd been so sure her silence was fear of me. But this wasn't fear. It was concern. Genuine.
The thought hit harder than it should have, and I found myself chuckling under my breath. Her brow furrowed. "What's so funny?"
"Nothing" I said, softer this time. "Just… I thought you were worried I'd do something reckless."
Kisaya frowned, still not convinced.
I met her gaze, more relaxed now. "Go. I'll stay close. I promise not to start any fights, or drink anyone dry."
She blinked, surprise flashing across her face, caught between disbelief and a faint smile. "That's not funny."
"It wasn't supposed to be" I said, still faintly smiling.
Her shoulders eased just a little. "Fine. But don't go far. I'll be back soon."
I nodded. "Be careful."
Kisaya hesitated one last time, then turned and slipped into the crowd. I watched her go, the noise of the settlement swallowing her figure. For the first time since the forest, the silence she left behind didn't feel like distance.
I found an empty spot beside a broken wagon and sat down. The crate creaked under my weight. Around me, life carried on, slow, fractured, desperate.
A woman argued with a merchant over a loaf of bread. Two children fought over a piece of cloth. A man prayed to the wall as if expecting it to answer.
I watched it all in silence. The world looked clearer than ever, every movement precise, every detail too sharp. I could hear the scrape of sandals on stone, the rattle of breath in sick lungs, the pulse of veins beneath skin.
The clarity wasn't comforting, it was suffocating.
I pressed my palms together and looked down at them.
My skin was pale, smooth, and still, without a tremor or a pulse. If I hadn't known better, I might have believed they still belonged to me.
Hours passed. Kisaya still hadn't returned. The hunger had grown worse; if she took a few more hours, I'd have to leave the city and find an animal. Otherwise, it could get dangerous.
I lifted my gaze. The sun was beginning to sink, painting the walls of Sippar in shades of orange. Above the gate, the golden disc caught the fading light and flared blindingly bright. I squinted and turned away; even the afterimage burned behind my eyes.
At that moment, a movement caught my attention. A child ran past, laughing, clutching something that looked like fruit. I almost smiled, until the scent reached me.
Blood.
His hand was bleeding.