Kami.

The term belonged to the Feacani language— one of the oldest tongues still spoken in this part of the continent —and could be translated to the word ‘spirit’ in its most generic sense. By and large, these creatures were the most powerful ethereal spirits on the continent, a race of well-enhanced monsters that were extremely efficient at converting the natural energy of the world around them into Mana.

However, like any other monster, kami lacked any and all soul capacity, requiring a contract with the existing species of the Continent to exist on the Great Mother’s surface.

That was where bremetans came in. The average bremetan couldn’t boast of incredible lifeforce reserves. Mana manipulation was something beyond their physiological limits. But what they could perform was the Binding Spell.

It was a technique that allowed bremetans to bind a monster to themselves— physical or ethereal —and turn them into loyal pets, familiars, at the expense of a partition of their own soul capacity. These monsters would then be tethered to the real world through their host and, in return, provide them with their arsenal of skills. For the binders of kami, it meant the ability to call upon its ability with mana-based skills, or as the general populace liked to call them, Spells.

And Tanya was no different.

With nary a thought, Tanya focused her will and opened the psychic prison doors inside her mind, the ones that held back the ferocious spirit-beast within.

Zuken had been in the middle of chanting a counter-spell, likely a make-shift shield above the bubble to stop the sand from coming down on them. But she knew better than to bet on a lone shield against a twenty-foot tall column of sand backed by the overwhelming power of gravity.

Ezzeron, she summoned.

The top of the bubble hissed as a layer of ferocious wind swept across its surface, swirling and spinning like an invisible protective barrier.

The rain of sand was strong.

Ezzeron was stronger.

Blades of wind rose out of the air bubble like a bird taking to air, slashing and spinning with all the power of a miniature hurricane. It took the rain of sand and twisted it around, snatching control from it and bending it to Ezzeron’s will.

What was initially an air bubble had now become a protective dome of sand, and everything around it was being blown apart.

Tanya smirked.

This was easy.

Casual.

Boring.

Meanwhile, Zuken’s spell continued to dig deeper.

A vindictive smile split her face as she spied Elena’s gobsmacked expression. Even Zuken was staring at the phenomenon around him with wide eyes.

It made her day.

“That was fun. Too bad we won’t be doing it again!”

She raised her right hand.

Her throat constricted.

A raspy grating sound escaped as Spirit and Spiritist cried out in unison.

“Wind Shear!”

The cataclysmic detonation rang across the desert.

His eyes snapped open.

The first thing he noticed was the cold sweat covering his body. Then, it was how his heart palpitated like an overworked engine. Next was how stiff his body was, stunned in fear. Fear of—

Lukas scrunched his face.

Fear of what? He didn't remember, almost as if it was unimportant.

Feeling no real desire to move, he rested in his frozen state for a while, curious at the strangeness of his ambiance. The entire place felt… cloudy, for a lack of better words. His fingers could feel a soft, silky texture, not unlike the warm covers.

Oh.

He was in a bed.

Sleeping.

Somewhere. In this cloudy place.

Heh. Sleeping among the clouds. That’d be something.

“I see you’re awake.”

He knew that voice. Lukas pushed himself up.

Strange.

His body felt fresh. Supple. Healthy. It was almost like—

“Like it was all a dream?”

A shadowy figure congealed from the mist, slowly forming itself into a slender, feminine shape draped in a cloak and cowl.

His throat went dry. It took him two tries to rasp out his thoughts. “Inanna…”

A low, feminine laugh— one filled to the brim with condescension —filled the entire chamber.

“You’re— you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he asked, his throat painfully parched. What he wouldn’t do for some—

A bottle popped into existence.

—Water?

But he was too thirsty to give the strange phenomenon any further thought. He uncapped the bottle and guzzled down its contents, paying no attention to the little streams of liquid that dribbled out of the corners of his mouth.

It was delicious. It felt like ambrosia— like he was human. Again.

“Thanks,” he sighed, wiping his mouth with his forearm.

Another condescending chuckle.

“Am— am I dead?” he ventured.

“I told you, mortal. You being dead is counterproductive to my desires.”

Inanna’s face was now visible. Her gorgeous eyes, her pursed lips, her high cheekbones, her lush long black hair— every bit as beautiful as he remembered.

The goddess smirked knowingly. That was fine, he kept staring.

“So, I’m alive?”

His mind felt clearer than ever before, and his thoughts were crisp. It was as if his entire being was somehow lighter, as if the burdens he’d carried were—

“The pain,” Lukas’s eyes widened, finally meeting her eyes. “It’s gone! You took it away?”

The goddess laughed, shaking her head. “Took it away? No. I have created a temporary passage to ensure your survival. A window of opportunity. Just enough time to elevate your mind and gain control over your malediction.”

“How long do I have?”

“A year and a day. Give or take. Assuming you survive everything that befalls you by then.”

A year and a day? 366 days? No, that was assuming that days were calculated in the same timeframe in this world. He’d need to get into the gritty details later.

More important questions needed answering first.

“Why?” he croaked. “Why did you save me?”

The goddess arched an eyebrow.

“I thought I had made it quite clear. Losing you is counterproductive to my goals.”

“Me dead is counterproductive to your goals,” Lukas argued. “Saving my sanity and bringing me back to health, not so much.”

A part of him wondered why he was arguing with the being that took it upon herself to save his life, despite the more cynical side of him screaming that there was a reason for it. It was a dichotomy that was enough to drive a man insane. Again.

Sometimes, his resident goddess really irked him.

Damn this woman!

Inanna looked on, mildly amused. “You are correct. It wasn’t. I saved you for my own, selfish pursuits. Would you like to know what they are?”

“As if you’d tell me if I asked you why,” he muttered.

“Of course I would.”

“...Oh.” For once, he had nothing to say.

His thoughts— or lack thereof —only seemed to increase her amusement.

Mindscape, Lukas reminded himself. He was inside his mindscape, a place where thoughts were louder than words.

Damn this woman! Again!

Inanna looked to her right, towards the cloudy walls.

“I… am a predator. A ruler. A hunter. A slayer. I believe you mortals have an expression. Give a man a hammer, and every problem looks like a nail.” She looked back at him, her expression clouded. “Did I say that right?”

“For the most part,” Lukas swallowed. “What about it?”

The goddess gave him a smile. It took everything to not sigh and melt into bliss at her expression.

“Predators…” she began to speak again. “It is our nature to test our prey for weakness. You, a mortal, chose to defy me. It is only natural for me to test you.”

“...Test? Another one?”

The goddess chuckled some more. “What you lack in strength, you make up in sheer stubbornness and willpower. Maybe when you survive this anomaly, I will test you again.”

When. Not if, but when. There was a firmness to her words, an additional surety that wasn’t there before. Just what had happened to bring about such a drastic change in her thoughts.

Inanna glanced up at him, and for some reason, he felt utterly naked. Completely vulnerable. Exposed for anyone with eyes to behold.

And for the barest of moments, the feeling went both ways, as Lukas saw a deep sadness in her eyes.

But it was gone as quickly as it came. For she was the tyrant Queen all over again.

“You were dying. On your last breath. And still, you chose to defy me.”

“I did.”

There were no two ways about it.

“May I ask why?” the goddess asked, her tone bordering on respectful. “What is so abominable about my offer that you’d choose to embrace death over me?”

Her eyes were open, clear. Demanding an honest answer.

Lukas felt compelled to give her one.

“Because I don’t want to become a monster. Someone who kills indiscriminately. I can’t be trusted with that kind of power, because once I get used to it, I won’t be able to stop myself from becoming—”

“Finish your sentence, mortal.”

“...”

“Like me.”

Lukas kept his gaze averted. “...Yes.”

Sympathy flickered through Inanna’s eyes for a moment, before they became cold and aloof once more.

“Besides,” he continued, “I like my freedom. I’d rather be weak and myself, than a slave to someone else’s whims.”

“A slave,” she repeated, “Is that what you see my offer as? Slavery?”

“You pretty much outright told me that your offer binds my will to you. I like my freedom too much to accept terms like that.”

“Even at the cost of your life.”

It wasn’t a question. Just a statement.

“Yeah.”

Her lips pursed. A pregnant pause overtook the room, making Lukas squirm in anticipation.

Then, finally, Inanna smiled.

“I chose well.”

“...Was that another test?”

She ignored him.

“My true self is trapped somewhere in the Akkadian Underworld. In Ereshkigal’s domain. Along with all my powers. This me…” She gestured to herself, and even that trivial gesture possessed enough grace to make Lukas want to go green with envy. “This is but a shard. A shadow, if you will. A culmination of whatever fragments managed to escape from the true Supreme Queen that is Inanna.”

Lukas stayed silent, his surprise overwhelming his ability to speak.

“My real form is bound there, past the Seven Gates. Holding my authority, my power and my Truths captive.”

Holding her powers captive? He had already witnessed her as she was— powerful beyond measure. Beautiful beyond description. A true goddess in every definition of the word.

“But you—you’re— you’re powerful. Back with that khorkhoi—”

Inanna lifted her head and laughed. “Your ignorance is almost endearing, mortal. You truly believe that such a paltry exercise of lifeforce and mana is power? You still have a long, long way to go.”

He scrunched his face. A part of him realized that this was the first time he was having an open conversation with the goddess. Even back when she was sharing information with him and teaching him about the unfamiliar world around him, there was something forced about it.

A byproduct of their bargain.

But this? This was raw. Direct. One-on-one.

Like his words traveled past the veneer of a vengeful goddess, past all the rage and malice that coated her rough exterior and straight to the person hidden within.

To Inanna.

It felt strangely cathartic.

“So,” Lukas started awkwardly, “you want to free yourself from Ereshkigal’s domain and go back to your true form. That’s what you were trying to do, and what you want me to help you with?”

“For better or worse, yes.” The goddess stared at him, her expression quaint. “This form of mine has knowledge, enough to fill several oceans to the brim. What it lacks is—”

“—the ability to sustain it,” Lukas finished for her. “It all adds up now. You aren’t trapped in the pendant, you’re taking shelter in it.”

Inanna didn’t answer. She didn’t need to, when silence itself was good enough as a confirmation.

“You don’t need me to get you out of anything. You want to find your true self and merge with it. And then what? You’d be whole again?”

“Not quite. I am Her without Her Truths. Without Her Divinity. But She is not me.”

Lukas didn’t understand, but something in her serene expression told him that he was not supposed to. Instead, he frowned. “And you couldn’t have told me all this earlier? Before the entire remorseless tyrant queen business?”

“Keep your sympathy to yourself, mortal. I do not want it. I do not need it. You are aeons away from performing what this form of mine can conjure. I need a suitable vessel, someone who possesses the qualities necessary to hold my vigil and do what is required. I have no use for a weakling.”

“But I am a weakling,” Lukas argued.

“For now,” Inanna agreed. “Physical and mental prowess can be easily gained. Spiritual, not so much. But when even your mind and body gave way, your spirit remained firm. You passed the test.”

“And how do I know this isn’t another one of your lures?”

Inanna smiled, spreading her arms grandly. “Oh, but this is a lure, mortal. Only this time, I do not offer pain or strength. I offer something far more difficult to come by.”

“Which is?”

“The truth,” she stated simply. “Now that you have proven yourself worthy of the road that lies ahead, I offer you the chance to witness the naked truth for yourself. To choose for yourself. You know what I am, and what ends I can go to in order to get what I want. And yet, I ask you to help set me free.”

She pinned him with a stare. “The question remains... will you?”

Inanna really did have a penchant for asking the difficult questions. And she was right— he knew who she was. He knew what she was. Someone who could be polite and civil as it suited her. Someone who could deceive better with a single arching of her eyebrow than most men could in their lifetimes. Someone who was cultured, high-class, and beautiful beyond comparison.

Simply put, she was a monster.

And here she was, asking him— an aspiring lawyer —to help her.

To enter the den of the monster, for the monster’s sake.

“And if I refuse?”

“I let you go,” the goddess shrugged. “All debts forgiven, all transgressions ignored. The next time you and I speak, it will be as if it were for the first time.”

Somehow, Lukas found himself trusting her words.

“You’re not going to try and keep me from running off?”

“I have told you this before, mortal. I have no use for an unwilling vessel. Besides, do you see an offer upon the table?”

There wasn’t. This time, it was his silence that served as confirmation.

And he knew that she knew it, too.

This wasn’t a bargain— this was a calculated first move. And every single possible response had been properly considered.

Damned if I do. Damned if I don’t.

He exhaled.

“The way I see it,” Lukas spoke up, “you and I had a deal. I was supposed to help you regain your freedom, and now I finally see the big picture about how long this deal is really gonna take. I’m not even at the starting line yet. Getting out of this anomaly isn’t a milestone, it’s a requirement.”

“A shortcoming that you yourself have to overcome.”

“Listen,” Lukas all but growled. “You want me to survive so I can help you. If I’m gonna be fighting on your side, you need to stop making it difficult.”

Inanna chuckled.

“It wasn’t a joke! I barely survived the monsters so far, and I can’t get any more powerful if you hang that damn offer over my head like a sword. You’re a war goddess. Teach me how to fight, how to take down the powerful monsters I have no business standing against. Tell me how to hone the powers in me so I can learn how to use it properly from the start.”

Inanna folded her arms, pushing up her ample chest. “For someone willing to die mere moments ago, you speak a great deal.”

Lukas didn’t rise to her taunt. Either of them.

“But… I suppose your argument holds some merit. Let us assume I am inclined to aid you. What stops you from betraying me at the very end of it all. What guarantees that you will not simply abandon me the very first chance you get?”

“As if the Supreme Queen of An and Ki depends on other people to get what she wants.”

“Flattery will not get you out of this one, mortal.”

“But honesty will,” he challenged. “You can read my every thought. Look me in the eyes and tell me I’m planning on betraying you.”

She met his eyes.

Her lips looked incredibly kissable up close.

“I….” he trailed off, “have nothing to offer you but my word.”

“The word of a mortal,” she drawled, tasting the words. “Such a thing had no relevance in my era.”

“Welcome to the twenty-first century.”