"I thought I'd seen monsters before."

  Zeek took a long drink from the cy cup in his hand, the mead was hot and thick on his tongue. The fires of Kemet flickered far below them, painting gold across the stone as the wind rolled softly through the upper courtyard where he and Verris sat. It was quiet up here, sacred, even; a pce meant for meditation and penance. Neither man spoke for a long while, each just cautiously sipping the mead in front of them, their eyes grim and troubled.

  He set the cup down, fingers twitching in recollection of their unyielding grip on his daggers as he stood, frozen in fear, while Heka tore through the cultist and attacked Amon.

  "Heka, she... she was something else."

  Verris sat across from him, arms resting on his knees, Regalia pnted beside him, heavy and ever- present. He hadn't touched his drink, not yet.

  "You're not wrong," Verris muttered. "I've gutted things that scream like demons, stared down beasts with bck blood, mangled gluttonous stone golems... But whatever that was back there..." He finally lifted the drink to his lips. "My legs wouldn’t bring me close to whatever that was.” He looked down at his shaking hands, almost confused, “Regalia had never felt so heavy. Is this what fear feels like?”

  Zeek nodded, jaw tight, “How could it be anything else? That, whatever we saw in Heka, was death given shape, walking among us as if we were no more than pythings." He shuddered for a moment, the vision a nightmare in his mind, "I saw it in her eyes. For a moment, I thought she'd kill him. Amon. Gods... and he didn't even flinch."

  Verris tilted his head. "Maybe he wanted her to."

  The words hung there, heavy and real. Zeek let out a breath and looked up at the sky. It was almost too perfect—clear, quiet, unassuming. Kemet had always been beautiful from a distance… but no longer, not after what he’d seen tonight. Fear twisted in his chest, this was no zombie or undead, no twisted amalgamation of limbs, this was the closest to a true horror he’d ever seen. “She may well be the goddess of death made flesh.” This new fear of what may lurk in Kemet’s night sky was as tangible as the weapons that failed to defend him from it.

  "She may well be," Verris replied ftly. "Fear is a luxury, and where we’re going, it’s best not to have any left. Better the reaper at my back than at my throat, right? As long as we have Amon, we should be able to keep her in check," he shuddered, “Or at least on our side.”

  They sat in silence again, watching the torchlight flicker across the abaster statues of the divine figures Kemet so proudly dispyed. In the dark, the faces of the gods seemed less welcoming, more menacing now.

  "We’ll need to move soon," Zeek said finally, breaking the silence while adjusting the colr of his cloak. "There’s an outpost—Gate of Kal'Tas—northeast of here. Traders mentioned it’s the only path through the mountains to Estus."

  "Estus," Verris tasted the name like a foreign fruit on his tongue. "The city just beneath the clouds?"

  Zeek nodded. "Built in a valley between two peaks. Heavenward spires of gold and cream stone. It’s said the people there descend from angels; supposedly they’re divine. They keep their streets clean and their temples cleaner."

  Verris paused, a grim expression spreading across his face. "After what we’ve seen, I’d had my fill of the 'divine’. Either way, it sounds like a pce that wouldn’t look too kindly on our fire-weaving companion."

  "Or the woman made of smoke and screams."

  Verris chuckled once, hollow and dry. "We’ll need disguises, or at least for the material one of them."

  Zeek leaned back, eyes closing for a moment. "I’m sure Amon’s people burned more than a few bridges over the centuries. Kemet doesn’t have many friends in the world. The outpost might turn us away outright once they see his robes.” He looked down, rubbing his eyes, “Or his skin.”

  "Then we lie. Or kill. Or both."

  Zeek opened his eyes. "Preferably neither. Not until we know what we’re up against. I’m not keen on seeing Heka do… that… again."

  Verris drained the st of his drink and set the cup down with a clink. "If Estus has gear worth buying and bdes worth hiring, we better make it there in one piece. I’m tired of fighting things I can’t kill."

  Zeek smirked faintly. "You and me both."

  They stood, brushing dust from their cloaks. As they moved to leave the courtyard, Zeek paused to look back toward the city. Somewhere behind one of those stone towers, Heka and Amon were no doubt locked in their own silent war.

  And if that war didn’t end with peace, the whole world might burn with them.

  JP-Haseo