Uras'Diptsur stared at Krarvathar for what felt like an eternity. The pharaoh knew that this being who had taken human form was no God, but something born of the son of darkness. Still, there he stood—motionless: a destructive beast that had regained control of itself.
"Baræshadã…" The dragon uttered the name in a calm voice. His chest expanded as he drew a deep breath. He moved his arms and fingers slightly, feeling his own body. His adaptation to this form was already complete, yet traces of his true nature lingered: when he thought of beating wings or shifting paws, his human arms twitched. He felt clipped, yet adapted.
"Is this name familiar to you?" the dragon asked, turning toward Neftraya and Uras. The yellow of his irises glowed brighter than the hall's oil lamps. The mention of the name had awakened an intense memory: a being wrapped in white, with wings that seemed endless, shining red in an ethereal white world—where only he, a creature shrouded in mist, was the darkness.
"It is not a name familiar in our tongue. It carries more eastern characteristics," Neftraya replied after a brief silence, methodical. She stood closer to Krarvathar now.
"Ámon," Uras said abruptly, raising his eyes to them. Neftraya frowned.
"The exiled God?" the priestess asked.
"My father once told me of a group of southern priests. They worshiped the God Ámon, brother of DiptsurRá, but who was exiled, according to them," Uras explained. He was breathing more heavily than usual and avoided meeting Krarvathar's gaze. "What I know is that this God never existed, according to my father. He was merely a fugitive foreign deity trying to pass himself off as one of ours."
"And what would be the connection to this other name?" Neftraya asked, showing no trace of curiosity.
Krarvathar snorted. To him, none of this helped; the meanings offered no answers. He glanced toward the opening in the ceiling where the elf's mist had dissipated.
"They are coming."
"You can sense them?" Neftraya sounded impressed.
"In some way, yes," the dragon replied.
"You need to leave this place." The pharaoh's instinct for leadership overcame his fear; he did not hesitate to command Krarvathar. The impulse of a God-on-earth stirred within him. "I will not allow my kingdom to become a battlefield."
Krarvathar met his gaze. This time, Uras'Diptsur did not look away. The pharaoh's hands were sweating, and his breathing remained heavy.
"I believe that is a good idea. A dragon needs open air, does he not?" The priestess supported the pharaoh's order, striking at the core: Krarvathar's longing to return to who he truly was.
"I need my true form back," Krarvathar said, brows furrowing, almost demanding. He still felt weak in this body, and the logical, uncomfortable thought came to him—that he might not be strong enough—which irritated him. "Before coming here, I looked at the sun. Your God did not answer me." He spoke as though insulted.
"The Gods are… difficult. But please, consider the purpose of this new appearance. You have changed on the outside, but what of the inside?" She smiled, persuasive. "You said a God cannot change what you desire. The same may be true of who you are. Do you remember when I asked to look inside you?"
The priestess placed a hand on one of his forearms and lifted her neck to meet Krarvathar's gaze.
"There is no need for divine intervention in what you yourself can accomplish." Deep in her heart, Neftraya believed in the unique potential of a being completely severed from the divine.
Uras looked at the woman in surprise. It was strange to hear such words from a priestess, but his greater concern was the dragon.
"So, what will you do?" the pharaoh asked.
Krarvathar smiled, confident.
"Our alliance is sealed. I will do whatever benefits us both, pharaoh." Besides, he already longed to leave this place full of blocks and stones.
"We will help you. You will not be alone," Uras nodded firmly. That was his certainty—what, for him, DiptsurRá desired.
A priest came running and stopped abruptly at the entrance of the hall.
"Your piety, most exalted… but Prince Setarek… we found him collapsed in the temple corridor."