(Ereshgal POV)
"I need to drink blood again" I said.
What Ishtal had said could wait. The only thing that mattered now was the blood.
Should I look for animals in the city? No. We'd draw too much attention, and if bloodless bodies turned up inside the walls, that would create a real problem. Going outside the city again might be safer, but after yesterday…
"Eresh…" Kisaya's voice.
I looked at her, she had already set her spear aside and was now playing with her thumbs. A small chuckle slipped out of me. She looked nervous.
"Don't worry about Ishtal. Judging by how he reacted, I doubt he'll do anything" I said
"It's not that" she replied immediately.
"Then what is it? You can tell me"
She held my gaze. "Why don't you drink my blood?"
…What?
"I think it's a good idea. If you take just a little, it could keep that thirst under control for a bit long-"
"Stop right there" I raised my hand.
"I'm not feeding on people. I'm not a cannibal. Animals are one thing, but I won't feed on humans. Whether it's you or anyone else."
I left no room for discussion.
Kisaya looked down. Guilt spread across her face like a stain. "Sorry… I didn't think about it."
I smiled, stood, placed my hand on her head, and ruffled her hair. "It's fine. I know you're just worried about me."
"Eresh! I'm almost twenty-three, for the love of the gods!" She blushed hard and tried to push my hand away.
"Come on, do you know how long it's been since I've done this?" I said.
She lowered her arms, still red. Looking at the floor, she muttered
"Fine."
I laughed and let go.
"Back to the problem… I need to drink blood soon" I told Kisaya. "Any ideas?"
She brought a hand to her chin. "It's complicated… you need the blood of several animals, right?"
I nodded.
"The temples usually use animals for sacrifices, but taking their blood would be a problem. On the other hand, we could look for animals outside the city, like the ones you fed on yesterday, but…"
"The security's probably been tightened" I finished for her.
Kisaya nodded.
I sat back down and pressed my palms to my eyes. What could we do? Between my fingers, the coin pouch Ishtal had left us came into view on the table.
An idea hit clean and obvious.
I grabbed the bag. "What if… we buy them?"
…
Moments later, the two of us were walking through the market.
The street was overflowing with people, far more than when we'd passed through earlier. Their voices clashing and drowning each other out. The sound didn't rise and fall; it pressed in from every side. Beneath it, a deeper rhythm—dozens, hundreds of heartbeats—turned the street into something alive.
The noise hit me hard, loud enough to scrape at my skull, I raised my hand to my ear, frowning.
"You okay, Eresh?" Kisaya asked immediately.
"Yeah… it's just really loud" I answered.
She studied the crowd, then me. "Let me handle this. Wait for me by the statue of Shamash at the entrance we passed."
I nodded.
The noise pressed harder against me.
I reached the statue of Shamash, a tall relief set on a stepped base, the sun disc carved with clean, radiating lines, a raised right hand in judgment, a set of scales abstracted at the waist. Light gathered on its face.
Standing near it made my skin prickle.
I pulled the hood lower, sat on the lowest step, and waited.
My chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. I needed the practice. What happened with Ishtal wouldn't happen twice.
Waiting gave me time to think.
We can buy today… but what about tomorrow? What am I supposed to do then? I'll probably have to go outside again.
At some point, an onion rolled and bumped against my foot.
I looked at it and picked it up.
A moment later, hurried footsteps. A woman's voice rang out:
"Darim, how many times do I have to tell you not to play with food?"
I looked up.
She looked tired. Dark circles framed her green eyes, and her chestnut hair was slightly tangled. Even like that, she was undeniably beautiful. Something about her eyes drew me in, though I couldn't explain why. She wore a simple dress, a basket hooked in her arm filled with greens and roots.
When she reached me, she looked at me. "Sorry, my son thinks it's a ball" she said with a laugh.
"Don't worry, Ari. Here's your onion" I replied automatically, smiling.
"…Eh?" She blinked, surprised.
"Do we know each other?" she asked.
What? Why did I say Ari? It came out of me naturally. But this was the first time I had ever seen her.
"Hello? Anyone there?" she asked, waving a hand in front of my face.
"Yes… yes, sorry. What were you saying?" I asked.
"That, do we know each other? Or maybe you knew my husband?" she asked.
"Your husband?" I replied.
Her expression changed, a flash of sadness she didn't try to hide. The moment I saw it, something tightened in my chest.
"Yes… Akhem. He died a few weeks ago. He was the only one who called me Ari" she said, her voice carrying a quiet sorrow.
I didn't know anyone named Akhem… but the name stirred something in me. Why?
"I knew him" I lied, handing her the onion.
"Well, if he spoke of me, you must've been a good friend" she said, giving me a sad smile.
We stood in silence.
It was awkward.
"Mama!" a boy called nearby.
I turned toward the child. He looked three or four, with bright eyes and a small basket held tight against his chest. The ache surfaced again—sharper this time—and I pressed a hand over my own.
It hurt.
"Yes, yes… mama just got distracted. Don't worry" she said quickly.
"Well… we'll be going. Take care…" she said.
"Ereshgal. My name is Ereshgal" I replied.
"Take care, Ereshgal" She smiled faintly and walked away, holding the boy's hand.
I watched them go, unable to move.
What was that?
Why did I feel that sadness just from speaking to her? It felt like I'd known her and the boy for far longer than a few minutes.
And for some reason… I wanted to protect them.
Both of them.
My hand curled into a fist before I realized it.
Kisaya arrived a little later, leading six sheep tied with rope. As soon as I looked at her, she placed a hand on my face.
"Are you okay?" she asked, deeply concerned.
"Yes, why do you ask?" I said.
"Then why are you crying?" Her eyes softened, almost breaking, like she might cry herself.
"…What? I'm not cry—"
The words stopped as my hand moved. My fingers brushed my cheek, and I felt a warm, wet line clinging to my skin.
I blinked, stunned.
I hadn't even realized it was there.