I head south. To the mountains. I was told they live beyond the mountains. South. Between two lakes, there is an easy pass to the other side. Barren lands. How befitting. The way from the Capital to the mountains consists of boring fields of green. The terrain is so flat that you can see the mountain peaks in the very distance. The few settlements on my way are deserted. In some, I see remains scattered about. Not much is left. Nature has reclaimed the deceased. I carry on. The closer the mountains get, the more desolate the area feels. Settlements look ravaged, burnt. The air is filled with the scent of burnt materials mixed with the foul stench of decay. To top things off, it has begun to rain, making it harder for my horse to traverse the muddy road. I do not give up.
I finally arrive at the twin lakes. To my great astonishment, the pass has vanished. Instead, two large towers have been magically erected out of mountain stone on each side. A large gate, not unlike the one of the Capital, spans across the gap. There is commotion before the gates. It looks like a caravan seeking entry. This gives me time to find cover among the shrubs. I let go of my tired horse and continue on foot.
As I approach the Eastern Lake, I notice shimmering scales right beneath the surface. Wasn’t this Sobek’s pet? He has an affinity for all kinds of non-human creatures. The grandest of them is a serpent that could easily wipe out a settlement with one swift tail swipe. Rumors say it is particularly attached to him and could appear in any water body close to him. Had Sobek become an Ashura as well? Or was he held captive, like my beloved? Incapable of coming up with their solutions, they loved kidnapping the talented among us. And use them. When they grow tired, they send their heads back.
I need to be careful. The creature possesses keen senses. It might alert the guards. I need to approach from the other lake. The rain has not stopped. By the time I traversed the other lake, the expensive clothes I wear have become muddy. I don’t care. I wait between shrubs. And watch. I am close to the gate now and can see who is guarding it. Two Ashura. Judging from their hair, they are Retainers. Not our kind. Good. Ashura from Retainers are weaker than Ashura from our kind. I have no weapon, forgot to take one with me in my haste. I need to sneak in swiftly. I keep observing.
Eventually, a group of Ashura Retainers arrives. They carry a cart with assorted supplies stowed beneath a big cloth. While the soldiers do some banter, I sneak into the cart. It is easy to hide. Even when one of them slightly flips the fabric to inspect, I can withdraw from their gaze easily by pressing my body between two crates. The cloth is folded back in place. I hear them talk. They make nasty remarks about Father. I smirk.
The cart is pushed through the gates. For a while, I hear it moving across a stony path. Then it stops. New voices. They sound like a superior. I instinctively grab a rope lying before me, ready to defend myself. Thankfully, the voices fade away. This is my chance. I carefully exit the cart. I am greeted with a depressing view of a quarry from the top. Hundreds of men and women, all in chains. It doesn’t matter whether human, Retainer, or our kind.
Further, into the mountain, a palace is being built. It resembles the pyramid structure of Father’s castle. But instead of the limestones, it seems it consists of gneiss. It sparkles slightly, even in the rain. I hear footsteps. Behind me is a tent. I retreat inside. The steps draw closer. Somebody enters the tent. It is a male Ashura Retainer, dressed as a soldier. He is oblivious to my presence. Instead, he seems to look through documents strewn on a makeshift writing desk. I sneak up to him. And use the rope to strangle him from behind. He is surprised. Tries to wrestle free. But I use all my strength. Ssh. It won’t take long. Finally, his body grows limp. Life fades from his eyes. I take his clothes and weapon. It is a dull blade, but it is more than I had before. I dump his body behind the tent. Nobody needs to see him immediately. The clothes are slightly too large, but I gauge the flow with the rope I had used before. Quietly, I approach the quarry. My clothes let me blend in with the crowd. Nobody bothers with my presence. Everybody has something to do.
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I am at the very bottom when I hear a familiar voice. “Mistress?” It is a villager. I turn around. He seems both happy and shocked at the same time. This place has not been kind to him. He is full of bruises and cuts. His face is dirty. He looks around, before grabbing me and pulling me into a corner, out of sight. “Mistress!” He repeats himself. Back in the village, this human had always been protective of me. I had never appointed him my bodyguard, yet he swore before my beloved to do all to protect me. He is a strong man, experienced in combat. “You should immediately head back. I beg of you, do not carry on.” He looks genuinely worried.
“I will return to the village to report that you are still alive and somewhat well. Before that, I need to take Ptah back with me.” Upon hearing my beloved’s name, he quietly shakes his head.
“I fear that is not possible.”
“What do you mean? Is he heavily guarded?” Nobody will stop me from retrieving him. But the villager shakes his head again.
“I understand very well that you are not here for the rest of the villagers or me. But-” He suddenly widens his eyes and violently pushes me aside — the next moment, a spear penetrates his chest. The human coughs of blood before death relieves him from pain. I turn around to parry an attack with the blade I stole earlier. My back is pressing against the rock wall. There is hardly any space to maneuver. Before me are three Ashura Retainers, two blade-wielders, and the spear warrior. I keep them busy when suddenly I hear: “What is this commotion?”
I look between the warriors to catch a glimpse. It is Anhur, one of Bastet’s high-ranking lackeys. He has a well-kept goatee. Dark-red hair. Almost black. On both ears, he carries many golden earrings that clank with every move. Leather armor and a blade in his hand. Next to him must be Mehit. They always appear together. Unlike Anhur, Mehit has not completely survived the transition. Her face is distorted, feral. She wears a muzzle. I hear faint, growling sounds. Her hands are cuffed to a chain that Anhur holds. The warriors instinctively give way. Anhur loosens his grip on her. Mehit immediately pounces on the dead body. With a handshake, the muzzle disintegrates, and she feeds off the villager. Blood splatters everywhere, even on me. The sound of her munching on bones is appalling. Pieces of guts and flesh fly in all directions. I am so disgusted that I do not pay attention. A blade pins me to the wall. Pierces right through my upper arm. It hurts. My injury in the shoulder still hurts.
“What do we have here? If it is not dear Sekhmet. Pretty bold of you to just come barging through our door.” Anhur grins. “Our queen would love to have a word with you.” He conjures handcuffs, similar to that of Mehit. They wrap tightly around me. Finally, he lets go of me. Nobody cares about my bleeding wound. Chains form. The Ashura warriors grab one end each and drag me away. In the background, I hear Mehit feasting on the human’s bones. Crack. Crack.