The following hour proved challenging for Anaïs, whose migraine had worsened after using her magical powers. The sunlight, which had pleasantly warmed her skin that morning, had turned into a harsh glare, painful for her eyes now sensitized by the headache.

When they finally found the vulture's nest, perched three meters high in a crevice with no foothold to climb, Anubis had no choice but to ask the young woman for help by giving her a boost so she could reach Osiris's eye, nestled beside a single egg. There was no sign of the mother, which wasn’t necessarily a good thing. It was strange for the bird to leave its offspring unguarded.

"Hurry, before she comes back," Anubis suggested. "She must have gone hunting."

Anaïs felt around the nest to try to find the eye, as she couldn’t see from her position. She had her arm raised above her head and her cheek pressed against the warm rock of the cliff. Once her fingers finally closed around the spherical piece, a cry rang out. A split second later, she heard the flapping of wings. She didn’t even have time to look up before she felt the vulture’s talons scratch her fingers, trying to make her let go. The bird defended the eye as if it were one of its eggs.

Startled, the young woman let out a small cry of pain, clenched her fist, and jumped backward, which inevitably sent her falling. By reflex, Anubis stopped her fall by catching her around the waist, making her crash into his chest instead of the ground. The bird calmed down upon seeing its attacker retreat but kept its wings raised to intimidate them further.

Anaïs winced as she looked at the few scratches on her hand, now starting to bleed. The pain was manageable, but the sudden rush of adrenaline made her feel dizzy. She remained nestled in Anubis's arms, who clearly hesitated to release her until she was more stable.

"Are you okay?" he asked, visibly concerned.

"A bit shaken," she complained, rubbing her forehead, "but I got it."

Anaïs unclenched her fist, revealing Osiris's eye, much to the relief of Anubis and the satisfaction of Isis. She looked at the ocular piece with a certain disgust at the thought of holding such a thing in her hands before handing it to Isis, who gently wrapped it in a linen cloth for protection. She then carefully stored it in her pouch, now heavier with the eye and her husband’s hand. In her arms, she held his thigh, which couldn’t fit in her bag due to its size. The limb was heavy, but the weight didn’t seem to bother her at all.

"Let’s head back," declared the jackal god, his fingers still wrapped around the young woman’s arm to support her.

Anaïs murmured a thank you, relying on his grip to make her way to the camel without stumbling. Just before she climbed onto the animal's back, the goddess handed her a fresh cloth, nodding toward the superficial scratches on her hand. The cuts weren’t deep, but a few drops of blood had started to form. Anubis helped her into the saddle and made sure she was comfortable before mounting his own and announcing their departure.

It took them nearly three hours to return to the necropolis and cross the portal. The slow agony of the journey was finally coming to an end. The migraine pounding her skull had barely subsided despite the countless gulps of water she had drunk. By now, it was simply exhaustion and overstimulation. She wouldn’t be able to shake it off until she got a good night’s sleep and some peace.

And that was exactly what she had in mind upon arriving at the jackal god’s villa. Anubis had advised her to lie down as soon as they got back and wait until he called her for dinner, and she wholeheartedly agreed with the suggestion. She didn’t feel up to idly waiting for the meal with such a headache. Her body proved her right, as she fell asleep just five minutes after laying her head on the pillow. Just before lying down, she quickly cleaned the scratches on her hand and decided to let them heal in the open air, as they were shallow. She just had to be careful not to rub the wounds against the blanket to avoid any painful tugs. Nothing too serious, though, compared to her headache, which was far more uncomfortable.

When Anaïs emerged from her deep, restorative sleep, she immediately noticed two things: her migraine had finally disappeared, but now she had sore muscles from the saddle ride, and it had been night for quite some time judging by the position of the moon. She groaned as she moved, the pain flaring through her stiffened body, and then her stomach growled with hunger. She hadn’t eaten since midday, after all.

He did promise to wake me up for dinner... Did he forget? she wondered as she slowly got up, careful not to aggravate her aches.

Though the torches warmly illuminated the villa so she wouldn’t get lost in the dark, there was no sound. She assumed Anubis had already gone to bed since she had no idea what time it was. She could estimate time somewhat during the day by observing the sun, but at night, she was helpless.

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In any case, she had only slept for a few hours and still felt the aftereffects of exhaustion from the day. Just because her migraine had finally stopped pounding didn’t mean she had regained all her strength. Along with the mental fatigue from the drastic changes in her life over the past few days, the journey had physically drained her, and using her detection powers had sapped her magical energy. A half-night’s sleep wouldn’t be enough to fully restore her. At this point, she doubted even a full eight hours would suffice.

With the idea of making herself a small, varied cold meal, Anaïs headed toward the pantry. As she entered the room, a delicious smell of stew teased her nose. It came from the adjoining room, which served as a kitchen. At the back, there was a large pot hanging over cold embers. That was where the delightful aroma, which deepened her hunger, was coming from. The food, however, was cold judging by the lack of fire, but there was the possibility of rekindling it since there were still some intact logs nearby.

"Do I eat it cold, or do I risk using my magic and hope my migraine doesn’t come back?" she muttered aloud, thinking she was alone.

"Let me handle that," Anubis's voice echoed from behind her.

Her heart skipped a beat, and a small yelp of surprise escaped her lips as she jumped, startled. She hadn’t heard him approach at all. He moved forward with a smile, though there wasn’t a trace of mockery in his expression, and knelt in front of the pot to use his powers to reignite the fire.

"Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you," he said as he stood up.

"What time is it?" Anaïs asked, finally regaining her composure and calming her racing heart.

"Eleven o’clock. You were so exhausted, I didn’t want to wake you. I asked a servant to inform me if you left your room. I figured you’d be hungry."

"You must be tired too. You didn’t have to wait for me to wake up…"

Anubis leaned against the brick wall, a guilty grimace replacing his usual stoic expression. He rubbed his face, as if trying to erase any trace of emotion, and then sighed.

"I feel guilty," he admitted after a few seconds. "All of this, everything that’s happening to you, it’s because of me. Because I tried to take the amulet from you by force. I made you leave your time, your whole life. You died because of me, and now you have to push yourself, using your powers despite the pain, just to help us move forward in our quest... I’m truly sorry."

Anubis was sincere—she could see it in his eyes. He was almost vulnerable, and while it touched her to see him open up like this, his words made her somewhat uncomfortable. They were a painful reminder that her previous life hadn’t exactly been what she’d call ideal. Yet, he had chosen to trust her with his feelings and ask for forgiveness. Didn’t she owe him the same in return?

"I’m a bit relieved, you know," she began, locking eyes with him. "By how things turned out. My life before... it didn’t suit me. It had no flavor. Ever since my parents died, even though I experienced moments of happiness... it was never the same. Having big ambitions when you come out of an orphanage is complicated. I knew I’d struggle my whole life because of my past. Aside from my best friend, I had no one, and even though it pains me that I won’t see her again, I know she’ll be just fine without me. She’s always been the braver, more optimistic one between the two of us…"

She couldn’t say exactly when, after the stew was ready and they had moved to the sitting room for her to eat comfortably, she ended up sharing her past life with Anubis. She told him about her parents’ death, her early days in the orphanage, the years that followed, and how her mental state had evolved. He had heard some of these events during the weighing, but he didn’t protest when she repeated certain anecdotes, seemingly understanding that she felt the need to talk about them now. In the tribunal, the judges had mainly listed a series of facts, and she had been forced to present reasonable arguments. There hadn’t been time to discuss how she had emotionally experienced everything or how much she valued and cherished her life. Nor had anyone asked about how the dark cloud of depression had threatened to consume her in the final years of her life on Earth.

For an hour, he listened attentively, never interrupting or minimizing her feelings by telling her to simply move on. How many times had she heard those words from adults during her first year at the orphanage? People who meant well told her to focus on the future, not to dwell on the past, and to abandon those negative thoughts as if it were a choice and she was never making the right one. As if she chose to be haunted by the loss of her parents and her entire childhood. As if there were a switch to erase her trauma and accept how her life had changed in an instant. It had only taken a fraction of a second, the blink of an eye, for her childhood dreams to be shattered. Even if they had good intentions, how could they tell her to forget it all and act as though nothing had happened? Wasn’t it more likely that her sadness made them uncomfortable and evoked pity, and they simply didn’t want to confront their own emotions?

But there wasn’t a hint of pity in Anubis’s gaze. Only kindness, and all the attention he could muster. Sometimes he asked a few questions to encourage her to talk more, to reassure her that she wasn’t boring him, but he never commented on her stories or argued with her feelings. Perhaps that was why she ended up confiding her entire life to a man she had only met a few days earlier. Or maybe it was simply because she felt an undeniable connection with this extraordinary individual, despite how little they knew of each other.

The answer wasn’t clear, and it didn’t matter. In this moment, she felt safe—safe enough to trust him and reveal her vulnerabilities. Something deep within her—perhaps her instinct—whispered that he wouldn’t betray her, that she could open herself to him. She just hoped her intuition was right, and that it wasn’t some cruel trick of her overactive imagination.