I honestly don’t know how I managed, but I actually did it. Every night I grabbed my stuffed hen, reached through an open seam and took out a small vial with a concoction my mother had brewed for me. I swallowed a few drops before tucking it back into the hen and going to sleep.

At first, I didn’t notice anything special, and I began thinking my mother just went a little crazy there. But then I noticed small differences. All the kids began having these vacant stares. As if they were no longer in their own bodies. When they fell and hurt themselves, they would just get up without flinching, without crying. The range of emotions declined over the months. And it scared me. I tried the best I could to pretend to be like them.

But there were times where it hurt. Like the one time when Lilly stumbled and lost her grip while ascending one of the many wooden ladders. She was already almost at the top when she fell to the depths below. There was a loud thud with a cracking noise. My heart stopped and I didn't dare to peek. I thought she had cracked her skull and was lying in a pool of her blood. When I mustered the courage to look, she seemed lucky. Her legs were twisted unnaturally, suggesting they were broken. Yet she got up without a sound, smiling at me with those empty eyes. Slowly, she crawled up the ladder, dragging her leg behind her as if it wasn’t needed at all.

Fuck. That was really scary. Instead of joining her towards the dormitories, I turned the other way, clutching my bag and running as far as I could from the scene. What was going on? Why did my friends become like this? In my heart, the answer was already there: There was some kind of medicine mixed into the food, into the drinks that made them complacent. And because of my stuffed hen, my mind hadn’t turned into mashed peas.

By the time I realized where I was, it was basically too late. I had just entered the main temple. Yes, the huge howling cavity. Strangely enough, the wind fell silent the moment I entered. Instead, the cave was filled with faint whispers and chanting of children. Intrigued, I walked deeper into the cave. Where there more children here? Or were some of us already praying in front of the alleged Sekhmet statue?

The temple was very badly lit. I practically stumbled through the maze inside, guided by the voices of the children. The corridors were small and seemed to have been cut out hurriedly. If Reed had been with me, he’d probably have already stumbled himself into unconsciousness.

Suddenly, I could hear water trickling from afar. The voices seemed to have gotten louder as well. Even though I was scared, I decided to continue following the noises. Finally, I reached a large hall. And with large I mean huge. The ceiling was so high it was completely shrouded in darkness. I could only see the opposite walls because of the soft blue light the magical torches were emitting.

In this dimly lit hall, I finally saw a small stream running through the center. It wasn’t very wide, just a small hop was enough to cross it. On the other side, where most of the torches were hanging, stood an oversized statue of a female deity. It was so tall that her head faded into the darkness. Her arms were wrapped around her body as if she was hugging herself. I guessed that this was the goddess of war. I approached the statue carefully. But in doing so, the voices grew louder and louder, almost unbearable. I covered my ears, looking around confused. Where was everybody? Why did I hear these voices, but nobody was to be seen? As I stood right in front of the stream, I noticed the water was particularly dark and seemed thick. No wonder it kept making weird gurgling sounds. I also saw that left of the statue was another corridor leading away from this room. With nothing to lose, I jumped over the stream and took a closer look at the statue.

Without any warning, the voices stopped. Irritated, I looked around. Not even the stream could be heard. It was as if the world had gone silent. As I stood before the statue, I boldly touched the stone. Of course, nothing happened. What was I expecting? That she would turn to flesh and eat me? Scoffing at my childish expectations, I decided to check out the corridor behind the statue. It was completely dark. Yet I felt something. It was faint, but it felt as if something was leading me on, telling me where to go, which bend to take. Even though I could not see a thing, the strange sensation felt so reassuring that I began walking confidently through the darkness.

And, after a long while, I reached another cavern. This was a particularly small cavern, a few magical torches were enough to illuminate it completely. And, to my horror, I saw that I was not alone.

Chained to the walls was a woman. Her long hair was unkempt and covered most of her face. The clothes she wore were nothing but rags, ravaged by time itself. I couldn’t even make out the color they originally were. The woman was on her knees and didn’t move when I stumbled in. I feared she was dead when suddenly, the chains moved. I shrieked quietly. Slowly, she raised her head. Like curtains, her hair parted, revealing a beautiful but weary face. Finally, she opened her eyes. They were crimson red, burning fiercely.