(Namur POV)
He always picks the worst path.
Ereshgal slipped into the cursed ground where the Guardian's Child had appeared, the bloodstained wind curling around his silhouette. I watched him shrink into the distance, his posture broken but stupidly proud.
I felt nothing. As always.
"Hopefully I won't have to get my hands any dirtier" I murmured, voice light, almost amused. Was it a good joke? I had no idea.
I did not move. Not yet. The Edict held me back. There was no real chance to act until the moment was right.
Azel lay unconscious nearby, the fire beside him nearly out.
I turned back to the cart and grabbed Gamir's body without even looking at him. Now that he was dead, he was useless.
One detail returned to me.
It had been in a tavern, under low light, just after the mission was assigned. My rune was already traced, just in case. My face showed honest concern, the kind any normal person would have felt in that moment.
"We should turn it down, Gamir. Doesn't feel right. Smells like a trap."
He chuckled. Took a drink, grinning like he always did.
"They all do. Doesn't mean we run. Came from the king, Namur."
I leaned in closer. Added weight to my words.
"You've got a family. If something happens... no one's coming for us."
His hand went to his scarf. A gift from his daughter. For a moment, he almost listened. I saw it in the way his grip loosened, in the small pause before he answered. Then he forced himself back into place.
"Exactly why I can't sit this one out."
He had every reason to stop. He ignored them. That was enough for me. I had given him his chance, and my Edict was satisfied.
I took his scarf as proof, then grabbed the body.
I dragged him to the reeds and dug a shallow grave. I covered him, placed a stone on top, and looked at it once.
Not to honor him, only in case I needed to find him again. When I left, he was nothing more than a place in my mind.
When I returned to the fire, Azel was still unconscious. I did not bother checking his pulse. I sat down beside him and waited.
Time crawled.
But there was still no opening. I could not go after him. The Edict remained there, pressing at the edge of my thoughts. It was not a feeling, but it was the closest thing I had to one.
Eventually, Azel stirred.
I traced the rune in silence. Almost at once, my face began to change. Sadness touched my eyes, concern tightened my brow, and sincerity settled over the rest. Everything in the right place.
"Didn't expect you to wake so soon."
The voice? Perfect. Azel blinked, coughed. Reached into his coat with trembling fingers and showed me a dull ring.
"Helps me recover spiritual energy. But... where are the others?"
New? It seemed useful. I would take it later.
I lowered my gaze, shifted my weight, and let the pause last long enough to seem difficult. Then I furrowed my brow.
"Gamir didn't make it. Another one showed up after you passed out. He… tried to hold it off, but he didn't stand a chance."
I swallowed hard.
"The prince… he fell off the cart in the chaos. I couldn't reach him. I… lost sight of him."
Let silence speak. I held Azel's eyes with quiet grief.
"I sped up to get you out. It was all I could do." Truth and lie, woven in perfect tension.
Azel struggled to sit upright.
"So… that's what happened" he said quietly.
There was no anger in his voice "But there's still a chance he's alive, right?"
I gave a slight nod.
"Then you need to go after him. Try to find him. Just be careful… if they catch you..."
I crouched beside him, placing a hand briefly on his shoulder.
"I'll be careful." My voice was warm, exactly what it needed to be.
But the words didn't matter. I just needed the right moment. So I stood, tested the threshold. And the Edict... loosened. Ereshgal had finally entered the space where gods allow knives.
His blood was now legal.
Azel's trust meant nothing. But it made the moment look clean.
Then I turned.
Night had already settled, smothering the sky in silence. I started walking without hurrying.
If he's still breathing, it's only because I let him.
Just a little longer.
I will finish what the gods won't.
And no one will know. Because my voice will be calm, my hands steady, and my face kind.
Almost at once, I spotted the blood trail. It weaved through the grass, staining crushed blades and broken stalks, wide at first, then thinner as it continued.
"Losing more than he should. Won't get far."
The vegetation had been disturbed, bent, torn, and trampled in places. Drag marks cut through the dirt. His left leg was failing. One arm had dragged behind him for part of the way. The wound was getting worse.
And still, he kept going.
I kept a fast pace, but never careless.
"If any of the Guardian's spawn linger, I can't afford mistakes."
Halfway down the path, a faint glint caught my eye among the reeds. The sword was there, half-buried in the soft soil, its blade tilted upright.
Ereshgal's.
I crouched and brushed it free. The grip was still warm, the blade stained with blood that had already begun to dry.
He was falling apart faster than I thought.
But the trail continued, faint but steady. It led into a narrow pass hidden by thick brush. A natural arch marked the entry.
It was dark inside. I focused, channeling just enough spiritual energy into my eyes to see. Anything more would've been wasteful.
Within those walls, the air pressed in like stone. I didn't rush. Every step was measured. If there was danger here, it wouldn't announce itself.
The blood trail led me forward.
Symbols covered the walls, carved deep and worn smooth with age. I studied them briefly, careful not to touch. Not without knowing more.
Beneath my boots, the stone was stained, dark, old. Whatever had caused it wasn't recent. And yet, the space didn't feel empty.
Has this cave always been here? At the end, the tunnel opened into a wide chamber.
And it became clear, this wasn't a cave. "A tomb. Or an old temple."
A figure lay still at the center of the chamber. I moved closer, slow and quiet.
Its skin looked like cracked clay, flaking at the joints. The fingers had curled inward, as if grasping for something that had long since vanished. The body showed no sign of blood, wounds, or even hair. What remained was dry beyond recovery.
But that wasn't the strange part.
The flesh around the mouth had contorted, frozen in a shape that didn't make sense. It looked like it had screamed... inward. Not out of pain or fear, but as if something had been pulled out of it from within.
And not recently.
For a second, I sensed it. This thing didn't belong. Not to the logic of the world.
It wasn't Ereshgal. The shoulder was whole, uninjured.
I stepped back.
Gave the chamber one last look. Was this why the Guardian's Children were here?
I didn't wait for the answer. I turned and left, fast.
"Whatever happened… it ended here."
I stood in silence for a moment, staring at the sword in my hand. The hilt rested against my palm.
"No lies needed. The sword is enough."
When I returned to camp, the fire was burning low. Azel was still awake, his eyes tracked me. I crouched beside him and extended the sword. Didn't speak right away. Thanks to my rune, my expression became what it needed to be: grieving, weary, and believable.
Then I said it.
"He didn't make it."