BEAUTY AND THE BEAST

Chapter 6: Catch the Afterlife

Asterion-no longer just the Minotaur-stumbled out of the cave where Anubis had left him. Tears still streaked his face as he approached the royal troops who had escorted Anubis but now stood frozen, bewildered. In the distance, the cavalry that had been chasing the Minotaur began to appear, and slowly, the soldiers regained their senses.

The royal secretary and commander of the special forces exchanged confused glances. What are we doing here? Even the carriage they had used to transport Anubis now stood empty, as if the god had vanished without a trace.

But almost immediately, a strange compulsion overtook them. They remembered why they were here: to capture the Minotaur. A shiver of fear rippled through the ranks as their minds were flooded with memories of the beast, though now he stood before them in human form.

"Prince Asterion?" one of the soldiers muttered in disbelief, recognizing him by the remnants of royal garments. Though the Minotaur was once a feared creature, he was still the son of the Queen, raised under the King's roof.

Stunned silence followed. No one dared speak further, much less ask about what had transpired.

But among them, one soldier, harboring a deep grudge against the Minotaur, drew his sword. He lunged at Asterion, but despite losing his monstrous form, Asterion's body was still a weapon, hardened by years of battling through the labyrinth. He deflected the attack with ease.

The cavalry arrived soon after, their original purpose fogged by the same compulsion that overtook the others-they were here to escort the Minotaur, though they struggled to believe it.

As they prepared to return to the palace, Asterion caught a scent on the wind-a scent that still lingered, one that belonged to Anubis. His eyes flicked to a distant temple, and he raised his hand to stop the procession.

"What is that building?" he asked.

The commander and the royal secretary exchanged glances. Perhaps it was curiosity, or perhaps it was that Asterion had rarely left the palace. The commander replied cautiously, "It's the temple of Anubis, My Prince."

Asterion's expression remained unsatisfied.

"The temple is where people bring offerings for their deceased loved ones, so that Anubis may guide them safely to the afterlife," the commander explained.

Asterion's brow furrowed further. "Who exactly is Anubis?"

The royal secretary answered this time. "Anubis is the protector of the dead. He guides souls through the afterlife."

Still unsatisfied, Asterion stared at the temple. "Take me there."

Without argument, they complied. The carriage stopped before the towering statue of Anubis, its jackal head looming high above the temple courtyard. Asterion dismounted and approached the statue, his eyes full of pain and confusion.

He turned to the royal secretary. "Do you know how to meet him?"

The question hung in the air, startling the secretary, but he answered cautiously. "Meeting Anubis, My Prince, is akin to meeting death."

Asterion's face twisted in frustration. "You mean... you have to die to see him?"

The secretary nodded solemnly. "Yes, My Prince."

The realization struck Asterion deeply. If meeting Anubis was the same as death, then how had he encountered the god? His mind spun. "What if Anubis comes to you?" he asked sharply.

The secretary hesitated, aware of the weight of Asterion's words. "Anubis... does not visit the living without reason. He remains in the valley of the dead, guiding souls to the afterlife."

"He came," Asterion insisted, his eyes piercing. "I met him."

His words sounded like the delusions of a child recounting a fevered dream, but no one dared challenge him. Asterion was no longer just a prince; he was something more-something powerful and dangerous.

The royal secretary lowered his gaze, searching for a response that wouldn't incite Asterion's wrath. "Perhaps the royal shaman can provide the answers you seek, My Prince."

Meanwhile, in the valley of the dead, Anubis stood before the restless souls, his voice calm yet commanding. "Cross over to the afterlife. Find peace."

Some souls obeyed, resigned to their fates, but not all. The souls of those sacrificed to the Minotaur cried out in anguish, their anger unquenched. These were the souls of the unwilling-the ones dragged to the labyrinth, left to die at the hands of the beast, and they could not forgive.

Their wails of injustice echoed through the realms, reaching the ears of the gods. The Minotaur does not deserve redemption, they screamed. He does not deserve to walk among the living.

Anubis stood silently, knowing that for these souls, peace would never come.