Beneath the temple of Anu in Uruk, a man descended a narrow stone staircase, a torch burning steadily in his hand. With each step he took, the air grew colder, pressing faintly against his skin.
These stairs were rarely used.
At least, they used to be.
Lately, that had changed.
The flame flickered as he continued downward, shadows stretching along the walls carved from ancient stone. The deeper he went, the quieter it became, until even the sounds of the city above seemed distant.
He allowed himself a faint smile.
'It's a shame I won't be able to visit him like this anymore' he thought.
His fingers brushed the scar along his left cheek as he continued descending until a corridor came into view, its walls lined with torches burning steadily on either side. The air here was colder still, thick with the scent of damp stone.
Reaching the bottom, he placed his torch into an empty bracket on the right wall and moved forward.
His footsteps echoed as he walked, the sound bouncing faintly off the stone. Along both sides, iron-barred doors stood set into the stone walls, each leading to a narrow cell. Some were occupied and some were not, but he ignored them all, because the only cell that interested him was the one at the very end.
A dull thud echoed from his left.
"Please… please! If you release me, I swear I'll serve you for the rest of my life. Just… please… let me go."
The voice was hoarse, desperate, cracking between words.
He did not even slow down. The pleas followed him for a few more steps before fading into the cold air of the corridor. Only when he reached the very end did he stop, he stood before the final cell and looked inside.
The man sitting against the far wall was naked. His hair hung in a matted clump around his face, stiff with dirt and dried blood. His body was covered in scars, fresh wounds, and deep bruises. Several fingernails were missing, the skin around them raw and torn.
And yet he was still sitting upright.
"After all this time" the man with the scar said quietly, "you still haven't spoken?"
The prisoner slowly lifted his head.
His eyes were dull with exhaustion, red from sleepless nights, yet there was still pride in them. The quiet pride of the man he had once been. If anyone who had known him in his prime were to see him now, they would struggle to recognize him.
Lugalbanda.
King of Uruk.
He tried to open his mouth to speak, but his lips barely parted. His throat was too dry, too raw. No sound came out.
Only a faint, broken breath.
"Look at you… the divine king who can't even speak." The man stepped forward and unlocked the cell. The door creaked as it swung open. He approached slowly, then pulled a waterskin from his belt and held it near Lugalbanda's lips.
The king did not react. For a moment, he simply stared ahead. The man sighed, grabbed him by the jaw, and forced the waterskin against his mouth. Water spilled down his chin as he swallowed reflexively. A second later, he began coughing.
"What do you want now… Kudur?" Lugalbanda managed at last, his voice rough and cracked.
Kudur smiled faintly.
"The same as always" he said "your confession."
Silence followed. Even if he wished to leave this place, that was one thing he would never give him. He had done nothing of what he was accused of.
What king would confess to crimes he had never committed?
"You're the one who did all this" Lugalbanda said finally, lifting his head despite the weakness in his body. "You know I'm innocent."
Kudur laughed softly.
This was usually the point where he left, only to return the following month and repeat the same ritual. But today was different, this might be the last opportunity he would have to speak with him.
He could not waste it.
He brought his palms together, and a bronze spiritual zone spread from him in an instant. The air shifted faintly as the energy settled, enclosing the space in a muted glow. He held it for a few seconds, searching. Once he was certain they were not being watched, he let the zone dissolve.
It was only natural. After so much time, most had lost interest in the fallen king, their curiosity fading and whatever pity they once felt slowly disappearing.
He was the only one who still came to visit, aside from the torturer, and that one would not be coming anymore.
Lugalbanda stared at him.
Every time Kudur had come before, he had never formed a spiritual zone. That alone told him something was different. Still, he was not prepared for what came next.
"Oh, I know" Kudur said softly. "And yet your face barely changes."
He grabbed Lugalbanda by the hair and forced his head up until their eyes met.
"What about this, then?"
His smile widened as he leaned closer, his lips near Lugalbanda's ear.
"Who do you think took care of your precious son of the prophecy?" he whispered.
For a moment, Lugalbanda simply stared at him, the words not fully sinking in.
Silence stretched.
"…It was you as well?" His body tensed. For an instant, he tried to move, to lunge forward despite the weakness in his limbs. But his hands were bound. A divine artifact restrained him, suppressing his spiritual energy completely, leaving him unable to summon even a fragment of power.
Kudur threw his head back and laughed.
"Why… why?" Lugalbanda asked, his voice breaking as he let himself slide back against the wall. "Haven't we lost enough family already?"
He had always known his brother wanted the throne.
But not like this.
Not to this extent.
He had believed there was still a line that would not be crossed, especially between them, especially after their six brothers had died fighting for King Enmerkar.
Even when Kudur rebelled, Lugalbanda had spared him in the end.
'It seems I was the only one with a limit' Lugalbanda thought.
Kudur was still laughing.
"That face" he said between breaths. "That's the one I've been waiting to see for years."
He took a slow breath to steady himself, the laughter fading as he looked at Lugalbanda like he was nothing.
"You denied me what was mine by right" Kudur said calmly. "What did you expect?"
"But the prophecy! It was the word of the gods!" Lugalbanda shouted back, his voice rough and weakened, yet still carrying what little strength he had left.
Kudur laughed again.
"Even after he wasn't chosen, even after the gods refused to heal him and let him die, do you still believe the prophecy was real?"
Lugalbanda looked at him in silence. He knew there was truth in those words, but knowing it and accepting it were not the same.
"On the other hand" Kudur continued, tilting his head slightly "I should thank my nephew."
He watched his brother closely. The shock had not left Lugalbanda's face. The pride that had lingered in his eyes was beginning to fade.
"Because you, in your desperation to find him, even broke your own edict. You left the city exposed. You made one poor decision after another." He smiled. "For that, I'm truly grateful."
Lugalbanda did not respond.
There was nothing left to say.
Satisfied, Kudur stepped out of the cell and began walking back toward the staircase, a faint smile still on his lips.
"Don't worry" he added without turning back.
"Even if I can't kill you now, when I become king, it will be the first thing I do."
"I won't make the same mistake you did."
Lugalbanda listened as his brother's footsteps gradually faded into the distance.
Silence settled over the corridor once more.
He lowered his gaze to the floor, one question lingering in his mind.
'Where did I go wrong?'
He had been certain the prophecy was true. Certain his son was the one who would lead Uruk into a new era.
So why?
Why had he died?
He closed his eyes briefly.
'I should have trained him like any other heir.'
'I was convinced he was different.'
But deep down, Lugalbanda understood something simple.
In this world, there is no medicine for regret.