Zeni awoke the following morning to find the fire cold and the armored warrior gone. She rubbed her eyes, looking around the cavern for any sign of her enigmatic companion. "So much for new friends," she muttered, dejected.

As she slowly stretched her aching limbs, she took in her surroundings. The glowing body of the shagallu still lay where it had fallen, the faint light pulsing softly from within. It was a mystery that the armored individual had left the creature untouched, as if unaware of the Ankh inside it. Or perhaps he simply hadn't cared. But Zeni couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the situation than met the eye.

Her gaze fell upon the malevolent-looking scroll, still nestled among the ashes of the campfire. The armored warrior had left it behind—either a careless oversight or a deliberate decision. Zeni pondered this for a moment, her curiosity piqued. Why had he given her the scroll in the first place? Was there something within that he'd wanted her to see?

She found herself contemplating the possibilities, her thoughts a whirlwind of questions and theories. Was the scroll somehow connected to the shagallu and its unusual demise? Was it related to the Ankh, which still lay hidden within the beast's corpse? And why had the armored warrior seemingly left without a word, abandoning her to navigate these mysteries on her own?

Zeni couldn't help but wonder if he had known about the Ankh all along, and if so, had he intentionally avoided it? Was there something wrong with the Ankh, some hidden danger that he had sensed and chosen to keep his distance from?

These thoughts swirled through her mind, a torrent of questions and concerns that threatened to overwhelm her. But before she could attempt to unravel the tangled web of possibilities, she knew she had to start somewhere. With a determined gleam in her eye, she turned her attention back to the malicious-looking scroll. It seemed as good a place as any to begin her search for answers.

Taking a deep breath, Zeni steeled herself and cracked open the scroll, her fingers trembling slightly as she unrolled the dark, intricately designed parchment. Her heart pounded in her chest, anticipation and trepidation coursing through her veins. And with that, she dove headfirst into the unknown, determined to uncover the secrets it held.

Zeni's eagerness transformed into mild amusement as she studied the scroll's contents. Contrary to its sinister exterior, the parchment within unveiled an intricate illustration that seemed, at first sight, oddly fanciful. The drawing showcased a creature sporting the head and body of a tiger-esque big cat, yet boasting the hooves of a horse. A diminutive rider straddled the colossal beast, appearing positively dwarfed by the rhinoceros-proportioned monstrosity beneath them.

Beneath the drawing was a string of characters that Zeni recognized with a certain degree of chagrin as Heka—the language she'd fully intended to learn, but had thus far only succeeded in not learning. She could make out a smattering of connector words that translated to this world's equivalents of "and," "a," and "the," but the rest of the text was a baffling jumble of indecipherable squiggles.

Undeterred, Zeni began to browse the scroll, employing the peculiar method of perusal she had learned since arriving in this bizarre land. She rolled the top portion of the scroll while unrolling the bottom, creating a fluid movement that allowed her to view the central section with the ease of someone who had never encountered such an absurd way of reading before.

As she continued to examine the parchment, she discovered that each section was devoted to some kind of mythical beast, accompanied by auxiliary images highlighting tails, fangs, or other unique features that seemed to mock her lack of understanding. And always, to her utter exasperation, the illustrations were garnished with a generous dollop of text in Heka—the language she was becoming increasingly certain had been created for the sole purpose of vexing her.

Zeni found herself pondering whether the flying creature she had battled in the chamber had its own page among the many portrayed in the scroll. A flicker of excitement kindled within her as she pressed on with her search, the allure of unearthing more about the aerial hellion simply too enticing to resist.

In a relatively short span, her tenacity bore fruit, and Zeni stumbled upon an image strikingly akin to the formidable beast she had battled. Her heart thumped audibly as she stared at the all-too-familiar crocodylian-caracal-jackal chimera, her inquisitiveness provoked by the novel insights that teasingly lingered just out of reach.

Zeni squinted at the characters directly beneath the image, sounding them out until she managed to pronounce, "pimmit." She made a mental note to ask Neith about the meaning of the word when she returned to Kephri's Rest, her curiosity growing ever stronger.

She continued to peruse the scroll, her attention drawn to the smaller, detailed drawings. One depicted the pimmit's wings, surrounded by the indecipherable script. Boy, oh boy, she really felt like she was missing out on crucial information. But another image was far more intriguing. It showed the fearsome beast opening its maw wide, and what appeared to be a ghastly specter escaping from the mouth of a nondescript person sketched within. Above the person's head was the symbol of a scale, which Zeni recognized as a representation of death—having one's heart weighed in the afterlife.

She furrowed her brow, trying to reason out the meaning of the picture.

"So, the pimmit... yells at ghosts?" she mused aloud, her voice echoing slightly in the still chamber. "Or maybe it releases the souls of the dead from their mortal confines? Sends them to…the afterworld?"

The more she pondered, the more her thoughts became entangled in a web of possibilities, each more baffling than the last.

Zeni sighed, wishing she had a better grasp on the Heka language. For now, the secrets of the pimmit remained tantalizingly out of reach, like an itch in the center of her back that she couldn't quite scratch.

Zeni peered at the image a little longer before glancing over at the corpse of the glowing shagallu. Then she returned to the picture. Suddenly, a lightbulb went off in her head.

"Hold up," she muttered to herself, scratching her head. "The shagallu’s dead, and it has no visible wounds. The, uh, armored dude said the…pimmit did it? What if the shagallu's ghost got…eaten by the beast? I mean, I have no idea how that would work, but that’s less strange than some of the things that have happened to me in here. Like how I’ve suddenly developed a habit of talking out loud to myself."

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

With new determination (despite being quite sleepy) Zeni rolled up the scroll and sealed it. She’d made a decision.

After considering a moment, she placed the maleficent spool of parchment in her pack and nodded. She’d decided the scroll was hers now, a weighty, spooky-looking apology gift from the big metal brute who’d left her high and dry in the ring room. Then she stood up, brushed herself off, and approached the shagallu. She had been a bit trepidatious before—considering she wasn’t sure why the Ankh would be ignored by the warrior, but now…now she thought she was being silly. She wasn’t about to let some mild anxiety ruin her perfectly good opportunity for ultimate power.

Resolute, Zeni reached out to claim the Ankh, bracing herself for whatever consequences her actions might bring. She had no idea what would happen, but she supposed she was ready for it. Or at least, she pretended she was. After all, didn’t the old saying go something like, "fortune favors the brave?" Zeni was nothing if not…kind of brave.

Who knew what would happen next? Zeni certainly didn't. But she was eager to find out, like a kid on Christmas morning.

Once more, she reached out with her Ka, flowing through the same motions she’d performed the previous afternoon, locking on to the sensation of the Ankh until it sprang to life again above the fallen shagallu. The symbol was unchanged, just simmering; sparkling in the air above the heap of dead, slate-blue flesh. So she made the connection again, and felt her own Ka mingle with the energy of the Transformation Ankh.

She created the bridge once more, careful to keep an eye out for any more rogue monster-y sorts looming in the rafters of the shifting sands chamber, and then pulled. Just like before, the Ankh’s energy began piping its way toward her own body, inching closer—ever closer. Until finally she—

A message suddenly sprang up in front of her, startling her so badly she almost dropped the connection. She shook her head, reading the notification carefully as she felt her jaw drop lower and lower.

HELLO SEEKER!

It looks like you’re trying to entwine with an Ankh. Before you attempt to put the Ankh into your sekhem (or somewhere else, on accident) be warned: this is no simple task. The Ankh is not just a trinket to be tossed about like a hot radish! No, it is a powerful symbol of power that must be anchored with great care and precision.

First and foremost: what’s a sekhem you ask? Great question! The sekhem are the energy centers throughout the body where Ka is most easily gathered—but you probably already knew that, right?

You must choose which of your sekhem will be the vessel for the Ankh's power. Will it be the utchat in your head, the ib in your chest, or the sahu in your abdomen? These are the primary energy centers, the core of your being, and they will resonate with the Ankh in different ways.

Choose wisely, dear seeker, for the type of Ankh you create will largely depend on where it is anchored. Will it be a cerebral Ankh, a heartfelt Ankh, or a gut-driven Ankh? The choice is yours, but remember: mistakes are easy to make and impossible to undo.

So heed this warning, dear seeker, and approach the Ankh with respect and humility. For if you treat it lightly, it may very well treat you the same. And we wouldn't want that now, would we?

–Ptahnefer; deity (I’m new.)

Zeni wasn’t sure what to make of this. She’d never encountered anything like this before.

“Puh-TAH-neh-fer?” she pronounced aloud, not sure if she’d gotten it right. “That’s an, um, unusual name.”

She reread the message, watching as once she finished a second time, the words began to fade from view. She pondered this revelation.

Despite the ridiculous wording, she’d gleaned that there was apparently a bit more to the whole Ankh business than she’d been aware of. She thought about Neith’s explanation, and didn’t recall any instance of her mentioning different…sekhem to utilize if, and when, she found her own. So what was the deal?

“Maybe she thought it was so unlikely that I’d find one, that she’d have plenty of time to teach me all about the process before I had to worry about it?”

That made sense to her. It stood to reason that Ankh’s were exceedingly rare, so why would anyone assume she’d stumble on to one on her first night in the dungeon? As far as she knew, only one person in Kephri’s Rest had an Ankh, and Aken hadn’t gotten his in a dungeon at all.

Sighing, she thought about how inconvenient it was for her to have to decide this second. She wished she could just whisk it along with her and get some advice once she returned, even if it meant waiting to anchor the Ankh.

“Ha!” She laughed. “Ankh-er.”

Then her merriment echoed back at her in the empty chamber as if ridiculing her, and she felt a little foolish on having made the pun.

She thought about Aken’s Healing Ankh, and thought she remembered seeing the energy emanate from his head for a moment before traveling to his hands. Had that been the utchat sekhem, or was she just making that up? She wished there was a manual or…

Her thoughts trailed off as she remembered, there was something of a manual that she had available to her. Quickly, she opened up what she had learned was called her “codex” and mentally fixated on the “library” section. She recalled this often updated when she learned new things about the world. Sure enough, after scrolling through some of the knowledge she’d already gained, she noticed a new entry: Sekhem

“Oh hell yeah!” She shouted, hearing it return to her in the reverberation, but not caring so much this time. Puns might be embarrassing, but exclamations of smarty-pantsness were always in style.

[Personal Library] Entry On Sekhem

Sekehm are a fundamental part of anchoring and entwining Ankhes. There are three primary sekhem, each located in a different part of the body.

* The Utchat sekhem is located in the head, and is associated with the power of the mind. In one’s codex, this is often associated with the Prowess Markers of Intellect, Clarity, and Perception.

* The Ib sekhem is located in the chest, and is associated with the power of the spirit. In one’s codex, this is often associated with the Prowess Markers of Attunement, Influence, and Adaptability.

* The Sahu sekhem is located in the abdomen, and is associated with the power of the body. In one's codex, this is often associated with the Prowess Markers of Vitality, Potency, and Deftness.

Zeni, in her signature indecisive manner, ruminated on the sekhem options as though perusing a fine wine list or browsing an extensive buffet. She cast her gaze upon her Prowess Markers, noting with a dash of smug satisfaction that her Intellect, Clarity, and Perception were much beefier than any of the others. The utchat sekhem appeared to be her natural companion.

The metaphorical coin within her mind began to flip. Should she embrace the utchat sekhem, that cozy cerebral nook, and bolster her already formidable mental abilities? Or, should she venture into uncharted territories and anchor the power within one of the other sekhem, bringing balance to her personal Force? Decisions, decisions.

Zeni chewed on these thoughts, feeling the weight of an irreversible choice pressing down upon her. She replayed her dungeon escapades like a mental highlight reel, assessing how her innate talents had served her thus far. A pickle of a decision, indeed.

At last, after much mind ping-pong, Zeni elected to anchor the Ankh in her utchat sekhem, that clever little headquarters of hers. She wagered that by amplifying her already impressive brain stats, she could turn herself into a veritable mental juggernaut. Tempting as it was to balance out her weaker areas, she heeded the time-honored advice: dance with the one who brought you.

With her decision cemented, Zeni inhaled deeply, readying herself for the mystical macramé that was the entwining process.

Zeni, standing at the threshold of the entwining process, was poised to embrace the Ankh when, lo and behold, a new message from Ptahnefer materialized before her. Its words danced across the page, infused with the same zany wit that had graced the previous missive.

Aha! the message exclaimed, like a festive jack-in-the-box.

It appears we've stumbled upon an additional anchor location—a veritable sekhem storage artifact! How splendidly serendipitous!

Zeni blinked in confusion, her train of thought momentarily derailed by this unexpected development. Undeterred, she continued to read.

Would you care to place the Transformation Ankh in the location so charmingly designated as 'scarab'? The choice is yours—do mull it over. But don’t take too long.

* Ptahnefer; deity (I’m new.)

Perplexed, Zeni paused, allowing the information to marinate in the cerebral soup of her mind. As she pondered this cryptic proposal, her gaze drifted downward, coming to rest upon the gift that the wanderer Rashek had given her not long ago: the silver scarab beetle badge pinned to her shirt.

“Um…what?”