Chains of Vengeance

Chapter 53: Speak evil

The crowing of a rooster echoed in the distance, tearing Narinder from his sleep. Unlike the peace he had felt the night before, this morning felt much harsher, fraught with a tension he could barely identify. With a slow, deep sigh, he rose from the bed, stretching his body before slipping into his usual robes.

With elegant, calculated movements, he brushed his fur, making sure each strand was in place, as if that could give him the control he so desperately needed. He made his way to the teleportation zone, where he expected to find Heket, ready to deal with whatever his sister had to tell him.

Upon arriving, however, his gaze stopped on an unexpected figure: the humanoid mushroom he had rescued on his crusade. Narinder blinked in surprise. "Oh, that's right, I brought you too..." he muttered, realizing he had completely forgotten about it amidst the exhausting battle and his thoughts.

The mushroom looked at him expectantly, but Narinder had neither the patience nor the mood for it now. "Well, go with Sozo and then we'll talk." He snapped his fingers and new clothes adorned the mushroom, and motioned for it to find the ant. The mushroom, without protest, obediently walked away.

With the mushroom's departure, Heket finally appeared. Her red frog-like body seemed heavier than he remembered, and her neck, wrapped in bandages, dripped blood and a thick black ichor that slowly fell to the ground. Her gaze was dull, almost empty, and her clothes were little more than dirty rags that barely covered her plump body.

Narinder watched her silently, waiting for a reproach, a look of hatred, something to show him that his sister still had some fighting spirit inside her. But what he heard took him by surprise.

Heket, with great effort, spoke. Her deep, rough voice, torn by the damage to her throat, barely escaped her lips. "...feed me..." It was a request rather than a demand, a weak plea that did not fit the fierce goddess she had been.

Narinder stood still for a moment, stunned. He would never have expected such a reaction from her, so broken, so submissive.

The walk to the healing room was long, or at least that's how it felt for both of them. The silence that surrounded them was almost unbearable, full of resentment, guilt, and unspoken words. Narinder walked with a firm step, but internally he could feel how the discomfort grew with each step they took. Heket, for her part, walked behind him, silently, touching her wounded throat from time to time, not knowing if she hated him or if she simply didn't have the strength to feel anything.

Finally, they reached the healing room. They both entered, and although the place was warm and cozy, the air between them was still cold.

In the dim light of the healing room, Narinder took out a small bottle of antiseptic, some cotton, and a new bandage. His breathing was slow and measured, but inside, fear gripped him, a fear he could not express in front of his sister. Heket, sitting silently, looked at him with her yellow eyes. There was a fury in them, a suppressed hatred that struggled to get out, but her wounded throat condemned her to silence, unable to scream or reproach him for anything.

Narinder kept his face impassive as he began to work, but his mind was in chaos. Every time his hands brushed Heket's skin, he could feel them trembling slightly. He did not have the courage to look her in the eyes or break the silence that hung like a fog between them. In his heart, the weight of fear was overwhelming, but he could not, he must not show weakness.

Carefully, he removed the bandages soaked in blood and black ichor from Heket's throat. She did not move or resist. Narinder moved closer, close enough to see the marks on her skin clearly. They were deep and dark, black lines that seemed to burn with a shadowy vapor, as if the curse he himself had placed on her had never stopped consuming her.