(Ereshgal POV)
The first breath felt wrong.
Cold and dry, it scraped through my throat, uncomfortable in a way I couldn't explain. A few slow blinks, and the world came into focus—too fast, too sharp. Night no longer felt dark. Every shape, every texture, was too defined. Leaves above me showed every vein. Dirt clung to my fingers, rough and grainy. Even the air carried weight, pressing against my skin.
I pushed myself up, carefully.
My limbs responded, but not as they should have. Movement felt distant, like something in me had changed the way I moved.
Where was I?
A hand went to my throat without thinking. There was something there, an absence, not pain exactly, but a dull pressure.
Hunger, maybe. But not like anything I'd known. It wasn't sharp, not overwhelming, but it lingered. A slow discomfort deep in my chest, spreading just enough to make me notice.
A glance around revealed nothing but silence. It pressed in from all sides, unnatural, heavy. Even the leaves above barely moved, their sound distant and subdued. My fingers brushed over cold, uneven soil. Bare skin dragged across the ground, but the contact felt dulled, like the sensation was passing through a layer of cloth. Everything felt slightly removed, as if the world was close but unreachable.
My gaze settled on a figure, rigid and tense, gripping a spear. I recognized her instantly, though she appeared older, more worn by time and hardship. The shock of her presence rattled something deep in my chest, but even that emotion felt somehow dulled.
"Kisaya?" My voice emerged steady, surprisingly calm.
Her eyes were wary, searching. "Eresh?"
A cold thread of uncertainty coiled through me. "Yes… what happened?"
She stiffened further, knuckles white against her spear. "When my father died, what gift did you give me?"
I blinked slowly, processing her suspicion with detached curiosity. "Why are you asking that now?"
"Just answer me!" Her voice broke, louder than it should have been.
"Fine" I raised my hands, signaling calm, though I felt no urgency.
"The ring. That ugly thing you complained didn't match anything, yet you never took it off. Even now."
She let out a long breath and lowered her shoulders. The tension in her body eased, and for a moment, her expression settled into something close to calm.
"Thank the gods…"
My gaze flickered downward, drawn to the tear in her armor, to the dark stain of dried blood soaking the fabric beneath.
Something stirred inside me. The faint hunger from before sharpened.
"What happened to you?" My voice came out sharper than I intended. I tried to stand, but my legs gave out immediately, dropping me back to the ground.
Nothing felt right. My limbs were slow and uncoordinated, as if they didn't quite belong to me.
Kisaya laughed softly, a brief, weary sound, tinged with sadness. Her smile faded quickly, replaced by a seriousness that drew me back into the moment.
"Eresh… what's the last thing you remember?"
I frowned and pressed my hand to my forehead, trying to steady myself as the memories returned, fragmented, sharp, and hard to follow.
"The Wendigo…" I murmured. "That fight… the wound in my shoulder. Then the pain. The cart."
My breathing slowed.
"The Children of the Guardian" I continued, my voice tightening. "And then…"
I hesitated. My tone shifted, colder now.
"Namur."
My fists clenched before I realized it. I waited for the pain to follow, something, anything. A sharp pull, a dull ache, even a throb.
But nothing happened.
I looked down.
My shoulder was whole. Skin smooth and unbroken. Not even a scar.
What happened?
Slowly, I turned toward Kisaya. Realization dawned slowly, crystallizing in my mind. I sighed, feeling oddly detached from the words even as they left my lips.
"You saved me, didn't you? Thank you."
"Saved you from what?" she asked sharply, a strange note of urgency in her voice.
"From Namur. And the Wendigo wound, obviously."
Kisaya froze, eyes wide with disbelief. "Wait, wait..." she interrupted hastily, breath catching. "That's the last thing you remember?"
I nodded, confused by her reaction.
She paused, uncertainty written across her face. After a slow exhale, she looked at me and spoke carefully.
"Try to feel your heartbeat."
Why is she asking that?
My hand moved to my chest on instinct, fingers pressing firmly over where the beat should've been. For a moment, I waited, expecting the familiar rhythm beneath skin.
Nothing.
I pressed harder, changing positions.
Still nothing.
No pulse. No movement.
I froze, hand still against my chest, searching desperately for something that wasn't there.
What… what is this? Why can't I feel anything?
Why is there no heartbeat?
I stared at Kisaya, wide-eyed, searching for answers. She shook her head slowly, her expression tight, serious, almost regretful.
"And… you're not breathing either" she added softly, almost like she didn't want to say it out loud.
I blinked.
Not breathing? My eyes dropped to my chest, watching carefully.
Nothing.
No movement.
No rise, no fall.
I forced myself to breathe in, slowly. The air entered my lungs without resistance, but it felt… unnecessary.
I held the breath. Ten seconds. Twenty. A full minute. Still no urgency. No discomfort. I exhaled.
Nothing changed.
Again, I inhaled. Again, I felt nothing.
No tightness.
No instinct pushing me to breathe again. My body was calm. Completely still. I could stop breathing altogether—and I knew, with absolute certainty, that I would remain standing. This wasn't normal.
"What is this…?" I whispered. "Am I dead?"
A creeping panic whispered at the edge of my mind, slipping slowly through my veins.
Kisaya stepped closer, cautiously. Gently, she raised her hand to my face, her palm cupping my cheek. Her touch was tangible. I could feel the weight, the shape—but warmth and coldness eluded me.
Only pressure.
"You're cold" she whispered. Her eyes shimmered with tears, sadness warring with relief.
"But… you're alive."
A faint smile broke across her face, tears spilling freely, shimmering in the moonlight. Joy and sorrow entwined.
"Hey… what's going on?" I asked, my voice low, unsure how to read her tears.
She hesitated. Her eyes searched mine, as if waiting for a reason to stay silent.
"Eresh…" Her voice trembled, fragile. "It's been more than five years."
I stared, comprehension slow to dawn. "…What do you mean?"
She took a shuddering breath.
"Since you fought the Wendigo."