(Ereshgal POV)
Ennari wouldn't stop crying in my arms. Her shoulders shook against my chest. Every breath came in fragments. The little girl I used to play with, the one I carried on my shoulders, who clung to my neck and laughed like the world couldn't touch her. Was now an adult.
Her reddish hair was longer now, falling down her back. The curls she used to have had mostly straightened out, only a few stubborn waves left. Her face had sharpened; the roundness of childhood had disappeared. But when she clung to me like this, she felt exactly the same.
Realizing we wouldn't be playing like before made me feel sad. Time had moved for everyone else. For me, it had just… cut. Five years missing.
I looked down at her softly.
But… would she still hold onto me like this if she knew what I've become?
Just a body that moved on its own, a heart that refused to beat, a hunger I could barely hold back.
I didn't want to admit it, but being near anyone tempted me, I wanted to feed. Even with her.
She cried for a long while. I didn't say anything. Just held her, one hand on her back, the other on her head, letting her soak my clothes. When she finally began to calm down, I gently moved her back, just enough to see her face. I wiped her tears with my thumb. Her green eyes looked almost red now.
"Seems growing up made you even more of a crybaby" I said with a half-smile.
Her lips trembled.
"A-Are… are you really you?" she managed, still trembling.
I laughed. "Looks like you didn't just turn into a crybaby, you also forgot how to speak properly."
She lifted her hand into a fist and struck my chest. It was so weak it barely counted as a hit.
"Tell me…" she whispered.
I caught her hand gently and held it, feeling the faint tremor in her fingers.
"Of course" I said. "I promised I'd come back healthier and stronger than ever, didn't I?" I flexed my arm. Something that would've made her laugh when she was little.
Ennari didn't react. She hugged me again and stayed like that for a long time.
"I thought I'd never see you again…" she murmured, hiding her face in the same cloth she'd drenched with tears. I slowly wrapped both arms around her again.
Eventually, she calmed down. Her sobs faded into little hiccups.
I invited her in, and Kisaya stepped forward silently, handing her a glass of water. Ennari took it with both hands, still unsteady.
We all sat at the table.
The house felt small with the three of us inside. Ennari took a deep breath, drank, then set the cup down. Her fingers tightened around it.
"If you were alive… why didn't you come back?" she asked, looking at me with reddened eyes.
I'd known she would ask that. Her hands tightened even more around the cup. I closed my eyes for a second.
I had already decided not to tell her what I'd become, not yet. What if it scared her? What if she looked at me and saw someone else entirely? I knew it was cowardly, but I wasn't ready to hear the answers to those questions.
"It was… complicated" I said, shaking my head. "I can't tell you now, but it was impossible for me to return."
It sounded weak, even to me.
Ennari stared at the cup between her hands. Her fingers trembled, leaving marks on the wood where her nails dug in.
She swallowed. Once. Twice.
"Was it… impossible?" she whispered.
She lifted her gaze slowly, and I could see the hurt in her eyes.
"You can't tell me?" she asked.
I opened my mouth, but the words knotted in my throat.
"YOU CAN'T TELL ME?!" she screamed.
She shot to her feet so fast the chair scraped harshly against the floor.
"Do you know everything I went through after you left?!" she shouted.
"Enn—" I tried.
"No!" She spun and pointed straight at Kisaya. "Kisaya stopped talking to me. Mom locked herself inside the palace, I barely saw her. And father only worked!"
Her voice broke. She covered her face with her hands and collapsed to the floor.
Kisaya lowered her head, shoulders tensing, clearly feeling guilty. She said nothing. I knew she felt responsible when it came to Ennari, she'd told me before. Practically treated her like a stranger.
"And you… you can't even tell me what happened?!" Ennari cried again, her voice cracking.
Her outburst caught me completely off guard.
I knew she had suffered, Kisaya told me. Ennari had been alone, more alone than anyone should be. I expected it from father. He had always been better at ruling a city than holding a family together.
But Mom?
Why wasn't she there for Ennari? She was never like that. Not with us.
What happened to her?
I knelt down, bringing myself to Ennari's level. I gently moved her hands away from her face, forcing her to look at me.
Her cheeks were red, tears sliding down without stopping. There was anger in her eyes, but underneath it… there was a child.
"I'm sorry" I said. "I couldn't come back sooner. It truly was impossible…"
She looked like she was about to cry again, but this time it felt less like a storm and more like something breaking slowly.
"I can't tell you yet" I continued. "But when I can, I will."
And that had to be enough, for now.
I hugged her again.
"From now on, I won't leave you" I said with a smile. "I promise."
Ennari stiffened for a heartbeat, then nodded and hugged me back anyway. Her arms wrapped tight around me, as if she was afraid I'd vanish again. We stayed like that for a while. Long enough for my clothes to dry. Long enough for her breathing to calm.
Afterward, we spent some time talking. Ennari pulled out the snacks she'd bought on the way here. I didn't eat for obvious reasons; I just told her I wasn't hungry.
We laughed and talked about things from long ago—moments that, for me, were only weeks behind me, but for them, were years in the past.
Old training sessions. Her getting in the way. Me getting in trouble because she followed me everywhere. Kisaya chasing us both when we ran where we shouldn't. Petty arguments over stupid things that suddenly felt precious.
As expected, she had become a chosen.
Of Nanna, goddess of love, joy, and devotion.
And her edict… you must keep any promise you make.
These gods… is this all a game to them? It's like she's forced into a divine oath every time she opens her mouth with the wrong words. Every promise is a chain.
What's the point of that? I clenched my fist under the table as hard as I could. Are they enjoying watching us like this?
"For now I'll stay in the city" I said once I'd calmed down. "But soon I'm going back to Uruk. Do you want to come with us, or stay here?"
Ennari's face lit up instantly. She couldn't hide how happy she was.
"I'm going! I'm going!" she said immediately, punching the air playfully. "I've been stuck in this city forever, with that idiot Ishtal."
I laughed. He was an idiot. I looked at her, she tried to look tough, but there was no real danger in her expression. It was like watching a kitten pretend to snarl. More cute than threatening.
"Perfect. That was my main reason for coming here" I smiled.
Her mouth fell open slightly. Then she looked away, cheeks lightly flushed.
"When are we leaving?" she asked, practically vibrating with impatience.
"Not yet, soon" I replied. "I need to settle a few things with Ishtal first."
Her shoulders dropped slightly, but she still nodded.
The following days passed quietly. Quietly on the surface, at least.
Ennari came by every day. Little by little, she was becoming her old self again—even if, to me, she'd never changed at all. Now she practically tore the door open every time.
She'd even asked if she could live with us, but I refused, saying the house was too small for three people. I also told her to come only in the afternoons, pretending I was busy in the mornings. The truth was simpler: I had to drink blood.
Even began to take her training more seriously after I told her she needed to defend herself. She complained, of course. Rolled her eyes. Called it annoying. But she did it.
During these days, I also learned more about the city.
What I found surprised me.
Not in a good way. At first, people looked normal. A little stiff, a little guarded, but normal. They walked, talked, traded. Laughed sometimes. But inside, they felt dim.
Afraid.
Because of them. They called themselves The Eyes of the Sun, devotees of Shamash. They walked in groups throughout the city, pairs or trios, always watching. Always listening.
There were no guards or police here. They were the justice system: a twisted, forced version of justice.
Even accidents resulted in people being taken away. Later, they appeared in the Shadow Ring outside, often mutilated, marked, unable to return to the city.
That was why the ring stayed. Why the camps, tents, and makeshift shelters stayed crowded around the walls. Their families, friends, and belongings were here. Their work, their hopes, their memories. Everything tied them to Sippar.
Leaving everything behind wasn't an option for most of them.
Not when all they had left was the slim hope that they'd be allowed back in. That they'd prove themselves worthy of Shamash's light again.
…
It was late afternoon, like every day.
I was heading out to check on Arisha and Darim. By now it had become part of my daily routine.
Experimenting with my hearing, I realized I could isolate sounds from nearly a quarter mile away. So I moved around within that range. I never stayed in one place too long.
"Darim, don't run!" Ari shouted.
"Mom! Look how fast I am!" Darim yelled, his tiny footsteps tapping brightly against the ground.
A smile formed on my face. The sound of his steps, the wobble in his balance, the way his voice rose at the end of every word.
Then I heard it.
A dull thud.
A body hitting another. Small weight against something heavier.
"Darim!" Ari screamed, now running. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! My son is young, he doesn't know what he's doing!" she said quickly, voice trembling.
My brows furrowed.
Who did he bump into? I focused on listening to the sounds around Arisha.
"You haven't taught your son not to run in the streets?" a deep voice said. Calm. Condescending. "As you can see, he obstructed the path. If he'd run into someone carrying something fragile, the consequences would've been serious"
Ari swallowed hard. I could hear it. Her heart was pounding in her chest.
"Please, forgive him, sir. I'll teach him properly when we get home" she said, voice cracking.
My fists tightened at my sides.
The man's heartbeat quickened too, not with fear, but with excitement.
He was enjoying this.
I moved.
"It doesn't matter. Sippar is just" he said. "The rules are for everyone."
He reached toward Darim.
"Stop."
I grabbed his wrist.
What was he about to do to my son?
His skin felt warm under my fingers. I squeezed, hard enough to nearly break it. Bones strained under my grip. Tendons shifted.
I looked at him. One of those devotees… thinking he could get away with it. He couldn't.
His two companions moved defensively, stepping forward.
"What do you think you're doing?!" he shouted, trying to yank his arm back.
After a few seconds, I released him. He stumbled back, clutching his wrist, his eyes wide with fear and barely contained anger.
"Assault!" he shouted, scrambling for the only weapon he knew, authority. "Arrest him! You'll be punished and exiled!"
I raised my hand slowly.
"I dare you" I said. My voice came out too soft for the anger burning in me.
"Try."