Setarek had left the mansion of Naiizhis's father—his fiancée—only a short while ago. A few hours had passed since dawn; he had dozed off while listening to his future father-in-law speak of attacked caravans and the young woman who desired his protection.
He simply hadn't expected her to follow him.
"Look, Setarek, the canoes have already arrived! They're from the delta—see the colors!" She hugged him from behind atop the camel. "Let's go!" She squeezed his belly, laughing.
The prince wanted to return to the palace quickly to meet his father again, but he hesitated: he had heard that the temples were performing a joint sacrifice, though he didn't know in which one his father was present.
The soldiers recognized him. The prince passed through the gate into the area where the air felt cooler thanks to the new canal—excavated a few years earlier by his father's order to bring the sacred waters of the great river to the distant palaces and temples on the far bank. A wide stone avenue ran alongside the artificial canal, its edges reinforced with polished limestone blocks. Long, narrow canoes glided slowly, laden with ripe dates, rolls of white linen, jars of oil, and baskets of still-living fish.
"It's impossible for them to be from there. It would take several days, and my father ordered that nothing come to the capital during this moon season," he explained. Still, he guided the camel in that direction.
Farther ahead, the path opened into a large covered area: tall sandstone columns painted red and ochre supported a dense roof of woven reed mats interwoven with linen cloths to block the merciless sun. There, beneath generous shade, stretched the canal market—not the chaotic bustle of the main riverbank, but an orderly place frequented by nobles, priests, and foreign merchants. Men and women sat on low platforms, offering Nubian amber, Punt incense, lapis-lazuli necklaces, and fresh beer in sealed jars. A royal scribe moved among them, recording exchanges on clay tablets, while temple guards watched to ensure no tribute escaped the gods.
A heated, intense conversation in the group caught his attention. He halted the animal.
"I've never seen anything like it. Maybe an animal?" asked one of the men, his beard painted blue—he was not Nasdernian, but spoke the language well.
"It was a man. A large man with long hair, brown skin," replied a woman born in the city, firmly. "He leaped over the buildings and didn't break them!"
"An invader from Azhuur?" cried another woman, frightened. Everyone there turned upon seeing the animal and the prince.
"What are you talking about?" Setarek demanded.
"Holy son of God, Prince Setarek! Surely you can explain what happened!"
The prince furrowed his brows; he was as ignorant as they were.
"Setarek, could it be the monster you mentioned?" Naiizhis asked from behind him, and the prince understood.
"Tell me: what did you see? Quickly—where?"
"Farther north, Prince. The people were anxious after the pharaoh's order for the temple sacrifices; many went to Dipt-hjoser to see the pharaoh, but they saw something else." She placed her hand on her own dark face. "Oh, I was there. I'm sure: tall, broad arms, wearing something dark—not our style of clothing."
"A demon from Azhuur! I knew they would want revenge someday," said the other woman, terrified, speaking like someone familiar with ancient tales.
"Dipt-hjoser…" The prince paused for a moment, his gaze sweeping over the gleaming merchandise in the filtered light before turning to the opening in the walls that led north—where his father was, where the dragon was. The camel surged forward at the prince's command, ignoring Naiizhis's protests and the shouts of people along the way.
It didn't take long to reach the open area leading to the temple. To the prince's surprise, it was crowded with people.
"Get out of the way," he demanded as he dismounted the camel.
"Wait, Setarek, I'm coming with you!" The young woman, in some way, found it thrilling and grabbed his arms.
"Prince!" One of the soldiers noticed him, and the others turned. They stood at the foot of the first columns' staircase, preventing the crowd from advancing.
"Tell me: what happened?" The prince stared at the young soldier, who was about his own age.
"We were guarding the area as His Majesty ordered, under General Nahkit-Sen's command. Then someone… something appeared. It fell from the sky and walked."
The prince followed the path to the temple, fifty meters ahead: statues lined the way alongside enormous, beautifully carved columns leading to the main structure.
"He continued toward the temple. We drew our weapons, but he kept going as if we weren't there. Until the general came out of the temple and saw the creature. I've never seen him so pale—and he's as dark as amber…" The soldier widened his eyes. "The general ordered us to do nothing. He… seemed to know the creature."
The prince nodded and looked at his fiancée.
"Go home. The soldiers will help you return."
"No way!" she protested. The prince glanced at the soldiers and then ran toward the temple, ignoring Naiizhis's complaints. He had no time for that. He understood why Nahkit-Sen had let the creature pass: the general had been in the sanctuary when the dragon fell.
"Damn it!" The prince reached the main entrance. Nahkit was there.
"Setarek…" The man who had witnessed countless deaths in wars now stared in fear like a child. "Wait!" he pleaded as the prince snatched a sword from a soldier and dashed inside the temple.
The Son of the Setting Sun knew that blade would do nothing against Krarvathar, but he felt better holding a khopesh in his hands.
A shiver ran up his spine, forcing him to stop abruptly.
The floor beneath his feet was polished green stone, reflecting the flickering lamplight, while golden walls rose around him. The shadows they cast did not seem natural—they stretched too far, twisting as though they had a will of their own.
The young man frowned. He did not recognize this place. Then he heard it—low, whispering in a high-pitched tone—a voice saying his name.