(Kisaya POV)
The blade moved fast, straight, and hard.
Steel struck stone just shy of the etched line, sending a sharp ring through the air. My shoulder flared from the force, a dull ache rolling down to my elbow.
Not an injury, just effort. The kind that reminded me I was still here. Still grounded.
The training grounds had mostly emptied. Morning drills were over, and most had already left.
I stayed behind. As usual.
It was easier to stay when fewer eyes were on me. Easier to move the way I needed to, without having to explain anything. The heat in my arms, the pounding in my legs—it kept me aware.
Alive.
If I let it cool, the silence would follow. And when silence came, the past returned.
Especially his.
I lowered the sword and took a deep breath. Then I sat down, arms crossed, the burn still humming beneath my skin.
Around me, a few chosen tested runes inside the controlled field—just as I had, once. Each one demanded perfect control of shape and flow. When the energy wavered, even slightly, the rune collapsed.
Some managed to stabilize. Most didn't.
Too slow. Too sloppy.
Everything had changed too fast. And none of it for the better.
They were trying. I'd give them that.
But trying doesn't win wars.
Fifteen seconds to activate a reactive rune. Fourteen to lose focus under pressure.
One mistake for every heartbeat.
Weakness piled like ash.
I turned to the scribe nearby. Laris, a tall, brown-haired young man, serious-faced, still holding on to whatever idealized version of me he'd built in his head.
"When did he say this unit should be ready?" I asked.
He straightened. "By the end of the month, Captain."
I looked back at the field.
"We're halfway through the month. They won't make it... but he won't accept a no for an answer."
The boy didn't reply.
Smart.
We left the training grounds in silence, heading toward my office in the eastern wing of the palace.
The guards at the door straightened as I passed.
I nodded.
Inside, the air was cooler. Thick stone walls and narrow slits kept the heat out. Light came through a single high window, casting sharp lines across the table in the center of the room.
I sat cross-legged on the low stone chair beside the table and picked up the latest reports. The clay tablets were stacked neatly.
Duty recorded in script.
The scribes had compiled the latest reports: frontier activity, unrest in the outer garrisons, creature sightings near rural zones, tension among mid-level officers.
Too many irregularities.
I began to read. The names blurred after a while. Dates, times, terms repeated like drills in my head.
Still too slow. Still not enough.
Progress wasn't measured in numbers. It was measured in survival. And I had no interest in excuses.
The door slammed open.
"Captain."
Darek's voice. Of course.
He crossed the floor fast, boots thudding against stone. I didn't move. Not until he was close enough for his breath to reach me.
We were the same age. I still couldn't believe someone that loud had made it this far.
I could practically feel Laris frowning behind me.
"How many times have I told you to knock before barging in?" I said, still looking at the reports. "And maybe try walking in like the building isn't on fire."
"Right. Sorry." His tone dropped, just a little. "I was in a hurry."
I looked up.
"What happened?" I asked.
"One of the teams we sent to the Elamite temples. Akhem's group. Didn't make it." he replied.
I didn't blink.
"We only found remains" he added.
A slow breath left me. "A shame. They were good soldiers. Have someone notify their families."
I turned slightly. "Was the mission completed?"
Darek nodded. "Yes. Totally and completely. That temple was handled later. Also, we found some clues about the leak."
"Good. I'll review everything later. Now tell me why you came in person—because I could've learned all this when I got the report."
Darek's tone tightened. "There was a situation with Akhem."
I paused.
He continued "I found him in a chamber. Dead. But the body was dry. No blood. Completely drained."
That didn't make sense. It didn't align with any known pattern.
"Do you know the cause?"
"No." Darek shook his head. "But I have a feeling we should investigate. Something drained his blood. Two clean punctures—deep enough to punch through the neck. Whatever did it could be dangerous."
More problems.
I glanced at the window. The light was gray again.
"Have them sweep the perimeter. Double patrols. And no one goes near the temple until we know more."
Darek nodded and left.
I got up and walked past the weapons rack and toward the wall, where a polished steel plate reflected me in fragments.
Funny.
A distorted Kisaya, bound by an edict that forbade her from suppressing emotion—yet with so little left to feel.
The eyes staring back weren't mine anymore.
I looked toward the east—toward the temples.
"That place" I whispered.
"It seems like it never lets me go."
The image came without asking. Ereshgal, standing before me—arms crossed, black hair falling messily over his brow, golden eyes calm but lit with quiet amusement, and that maddening half-smile he wore whenever he knew he was getting under my skin.
And now there was no one left who did.
A tear followed.
Just one.
Silent, uninvited, but required.
The kind the edict demanded.
I should've done something.
...
The following weeks blurred into routine, each one marked by the same reports arriving like clockwork—same pattern, same outcome.
Patrols lost. Caravans ambushed. Bodies drained of blood, eyes wide with nothing left behind. Day or night, there was no logic to it
No tracks. No signs of struggle.
Just... absence.
I stopped reading the details. They were always the same. A copy of a copy, pressed into clay by tired hands.
I'd doubled the patrols. Then tripled them. Shifted routes. Increased perimeter scans. Even deployed chosen.
It didn't matter.
And I couldn't send stronger Chosen without pulling them from the city's defenses—and I wasn't about to gamble with lives for something I couldn't even find.
I was tired. Not in body. In repetition.
Then, finally—something different.
A knock.
The door opened, and Laris stepped in. His eyes were wide, and for once, he didn't speak immediately.
"Report" I said.
He swallowed. "We found one. A survivor."
I sat up straighter. "Alive?"
"Unconscious. Stable. Found near the northeast edge. We brought him in just before the perimeter shift."
I stared at him, letting the words settle. A survivor meant a story.
Maybe an answer.
"Keep him under guard" I said. "Inform me the moment he wakes."
Laris hesitated. "Captain... will you be questioning him yourself?"
"Yes."
I stood.
Finally, something to work with.