"So, can you enlighten me further, My Lady?"
Enkidu-Sa spoke at a measured pace, his mind racing to reconcile the terrifying efficiency of the camp with the girl's description of a man who was 'just a scholar.'
"Hmm? Enlighten you about what?" Siduri turned back to him with a chuckle, the orange flicker of a nearby brazier dancing in her eyes.
"The legends of the King... of Lord Gilgamesh himself," Enkidu-Sa said, plucking up his courage. "Specifically, the stories of how he first drew the 'Wedge of Heaven' ,the Gugalanna. Is it true that he defeated the Imperial host several times while being vastly outnumbered? The scholars in the south say he summoned a storm of light that erased ten thousand men in a single breath."
Siduri's expression softened, though she didn't stop her brisk pace toward the center of the camp.
"Don't go thinking Father is some god descended to earth, moth," she warned, though her tone lacked any real bite. "He is an ordinary man of letters who took up arms because the world left him no other choice. At his core, Father is just like you—a scholar. A scholar who simply happens to fight for the reclaimed future of the world."
Faced with the stiff, nervous energy of the young man behind her, Siduri continued her narrative.
"Those victories did happen," she admitted. "But I can promise you this: Father used his brains to beat those government curs long before he used his blade. His strategic brilliance left even the old veterans—men who deserted the Imperial regulars to join our Auric Reclamation—in absolute awe. He didn't use magic; he used insight. He read the military treatises of the old eras and applied them with a precision that made it look like fate."
"I see..." Enkidu-Sa nodded, though he remained pensive. The more he heard of Gilgamesh's 'normality,' the more extraordinary the man became.
"Alright, we are here," Siduri said, coming to a sudden halt. "Wait outside for a moment until I call for you."
Enkidu-Sa looked up and realized they had reached the Grand Pavilion of the Sovereign at the camp's heart. Guarding the entrance were two veterans of the Urukian Immortals, their heavy brass-gold armor frosted by the night air. They clutched long, archeotech-augmented halberds that hummed with a low-frequency vibration, their eyes cold behind masks of hammered metal.
Seeing Siduri, the two giants gave a slight, respectful nod and pulled back the heavy silk flap of the tent.
"The Commander is expecting your report," one of the veterans rumbled, his voice like grinding stones.
"I was just about to see him," Siduri responded casually. She gestured to the trembling scholar. "This is a man of letters who came to join us today. Don't be rough with him; I'm going to introduce him to Father in a moment."
The veteran sized Enkidu-Sa up, his gaze lingering on the scholar's frail frame and dust-stained robes. "This pretty-boy is the recruit? Figures. Let him wait here then. We'll keep an eye on him."
Enkidu-Sa hardly dared to breathe. He knew that making a sudden move in front of these men, who smelled of ozone and old blood, would be his end.
"Right, I'm going in," Siduri said with a mischievous grin. "No wandering off, scholar."
She stepped inside, leaving Enkidu-Sa stranded under the suspicious glares of the sentries. He stood as still as a statue, praying that the "Grand Marshal" would be as reasonable as his daughter claimed.
"You can come in now. Father specifically asked to see you."
A few moments later, Siduri emerged, a look of genuine joy on her face. Enkidu-Sa practically dove past the guards into the tent, desperate to escape their suffocating scrutiny.
"Hehe! They were just doing their duty!" Siduri teased.
Enkidu-Sa straightened his tattered robes and adjusted his scholar's cap, trying to regain some semblance of dignity as he entered.
The interior of the pavilion was vast. At its center stood a tall man, easily reaching eight feet in height, his back turned to the entrance. He was leaning over a command table, his hands resting on a holographic display of the northern border where the Hross-Horde was mobilizing.
"Good. Siduri, your job is done," the man said. His voice was not a roar, but a calm, powerful resonance that filled the room like the low note of a great bell. "Stand to the side and listen; I want to meet this scholar you've recommended."
As Siduri moved to the side, the man turned.
Enkidu-Sa froze.
As Siduri moved to the side, Gilgamesh turned. Those rubicund, glowing eyes locked onto the scholar. The pressure was still there, but it felt less like a threat and more like a challenge.
"Welcome back, Enkidu-Sa of Lagash," the giant said, a faint, knowing smile playing on his lips. "You look less like you're about to faint today. That's an improvement."
He gestured to the flickering map, where red icons were swarming the northern border.
"You may call me simply by my name. That is my courtesy name among men of letters," Gilgamesh continued, a faint, knowing smile playing on his lips. "I consider myself something of a scholar as well. For now, let us address each other by our style names as equals. There is no need to tremble before me until I decide whether or not to hire you."
He gestured to a stool near the table. "Tell me, Enkidu-Sa of Lagash... when the world is burning, why does a man of the brush seek the man of the sword?"