(Ereshgal POV)
I walked calmly toward the market, though this time I was not going there to see Arisha. Even so, the place I actually meant to visit was close by. I glanced back naturally, and almost immediately caught sight of someone hiding in the distance.
'Seriously? Nadira's replacement is this bad?'
I shook my head. Losing him would be easy.
Once I entered the market, I let the crowd swallow me. I moved with no apparent hurry, blending in with the people passing between stalls, baskets, and animals. Then I changed direction a few times, looping through the busiest sections before slipping between a few houses at the edge of the street.
By the time I was sure he had lost me, I turned back toward my real destination and kept walking.
A few minutes later, I arrived. High walls stood in front of me, along with a gate that made it clear this was no ordinary house. I passed between the buildings across from it, then jumped up onto one of the roofs. The moment I landed, I crouched low and hid myself at once. Then I looked forward again.
I did not need to see it to know what it looked like. Liraya had been there more than once, and nothing had changed.
Behind the walls lay a courtyard, with several rooms built around it. In the center, a few people stood on raised stone platforms, their heads lowered, eyes fixed on the ground. Others walked around them slowly, watching, speaking in low voices as if discussing livestock.
Which, in a way, they were.
Slaves had become more common over the years.
Three hundred years ago, during my grandfather Enmerkar's reign in Uruk, there had been none. That changed when the cities began fighting over fertile land. Prisoners of war were the first to be taken, and from there, the practice spread without much resistance.
For years, they had been used only for heavy labor. Construction. Agriculture. Work no one else wanted to do. But that had started to change.
Lately, more and more people of influence kept them close, not just as workers, but as part of their inner circle. I even remembered my father considering it once, weighing the idea of owning slaves instead of relying only on servants.
I looked down at the courtyard again.
The ones displayed there were not meant for labor. They were meant to be seen. High quality, if such a thing could be said. And the people walking among them were not ordinary buyers either. Most of them likely belonged to the circles of a high chosen.
I sharpened my hearing and focused. Voices overlapped at first, blending into noise. I ignored them, one by one, filtering until only a few remained. Then one stood out.
"Do you have any other questions?" I recognized it immediately.
Kalam.
The owner of the place. One of the few granted permission by the high chosen to sell slaves in Sippar.
And the man whose blood I intended to drink.
I adjusted my hearing, narrowing it until only that conversation remained.
"Just one. Why are their tongues cut?" a man asked.
'Of course. He was selling those again.'
Most people only became slaves under three circumstances. Prisoners of war. Those who sold themselves to pay debts. Or criminals punished for breaking the law. In Sippar, the last case worked differently, since there was the Ring of Shadows. After that, the temple or the palace marked them and handed them over to sellers like Kalam.
That was the system.
Kalam did not limit himself to it. He brought in innocent people from the mountains, or from distant lands. Age, origin, circumstances… none of it mattered. And the first thing he did was cut their tongues, so they could not speak.
The man who had given me the tablet when Darim was taken had been one of them.
It was not illegal. But...
"They are precautions we take with certain goods" Kalam replied calmly. "To make sure they… behave. I trust that will not be an issue."
The buyer let out a short laugh. "Not at all. I plan to use them as laborers."
"Excellent. Dis, take them out while I finish the contract."
"Yes, master." Dis answered without hesitation. Kalam's favorite slave.
A moment later, I saw him step out of the office with four slaves following close behind. Inside, the exchange was already underway. Payment first, then the record. Names, ownership, terms. Everything written down and sealed on a clay tablet.
I kept listening.
Conversation after conversation passed, but none of it was worth holding onto. The same exchanges, over and over again. By the time the sun had set, the place began to quiet down. One by one, the buyers left. The last torches were put out, leaving the courtyard in darkness. Then came the final orders.
"Go to sleep." The slaves moved without a word.
Little by little, the sounds faded, leaving only the slow rhythm of breathing and steady heartbeats. I stayed there for a while, listening, until I was certain everyone inside was asleep.
Only then did I move.
I dropped from the roof and approached the wall, clearing it without effort. When I landed in the courtyard, I stayed still for a moment, listening. Nothing changed. No one stirred.
'Good.'
I moved forward in silence, heading straight for the office and ignoring the rest. I could have gone in through the window above his room, but that would almost certainly wake him.
I passed by the storage room first, then the quarters for the lower-value slaves. That one did not even have a proper door. Just a piece of cloth hanging over the entrance. A faint breeze shifted it aside, and for a brief moment I saw inside. They were packed together. Bodies pressed close, lying on the ground over thin layers of straw.
I kept walking.
The office was ahead. Kalam's room connected directly to it. Of course, this one had a proper door, but this was Sippar, so there was no lock.
I opened it slowly and stepped inside. I passed by the desk, glancing at the clay tablets stacked across it. Records. Every slave he owned, every detail written down. Names, traits, conditions, prices… and the name of whoever held their contract.
Some slaves had broken theirs and tried to escape before, but it had never mattered. Every one of them bore a mark on the inside of the left wrist, a diamond-shaped brand whose details changed depending on who owned them.
I reached the door to Kalam's room and stopped there, listening again to make sure no one else had stirred.
Nothing.
I pushed the door open slowly.
It gave a faint creak as it moved. Inside, Kalam lay asleep with his back turned, facing the high window on the far wall. For a moment, I thought the sound had not been enough to wake him.
Then his voice broke the silence.
"Dis? Is something wrong?"
Even now, the thought that someone else might be inside his room never crossed his mind.
"Dis?"
I kept walking.
When no answer came, Kalam began to turn. He did not get far. I was already beside him. One hand covered his mouth, the other pinned him in place before he could react.
He struggled at once, muffled sounds slipping through my fingers, but nothing I could make out.
"Stay still, or I kill you."
He froze.
"Tomorrow, when you wake up, if you tell anyone what happened here… I will kill you. Do you understand?"
He nodded.
That was another reason I had chosen him. He was smart enough not to speak. The marks on his neck would be obvious if anyone looked closely, and I did not want any of the high chosen to notice.
Last time, I had drained Liraya in seconds. This time, I would be more careful.
"Do not let anyone see it until it heals."
My fangs slid into place, and I sank them into his neck. His body trembled for a brief moment before the paralysis took hold. The instant I tasted blood, I drank.
Too fast.
'Ah… so good'
I closed my eyes.
No… not this much.
I tried to stop. My body did not listen.
I kept drinking without pause.
Stop.
Stop.
STOP.
I tore myself away.
The force I had been holding back surged all at once, throwing me backward. I slammed into the door, crashed through it, and hit the wall of the office hard enough to feel it crack behind me.
At once, I heard movement. The slaves woke up abruptly, voices rising in confusion. One set of footsteps broke away from the rest, heading straight for the office. I pushed myself up immediately and slipped back into the room.
Blood was still running from the four punctures in Kalam's neck, thin lines trailing down his skin. He was unconscious, his heart still beating… but weaker now.
I did not stay.
I jumped toward the window on the opposite side, the one I had avoided before, and slipped through without slowing. The moment my feet touched the ground outside, I ran.
Behind me, a voice cut through the noise.
"Master!"
Dis.
A few turns between houses, a few more steps into the dark, and the sounds faded behind me.
I slowed down.
A faint smile formed on my lips.
'No memories at all.'