Sehrti’s first instinct, as always, was to run. Although now, with a great, swirling apparition drifting down the corridor toward him – one that claimed godhood, no less – there were few that could find blame in his actions.

He sped himself to another of the doors along the hall and pulled at its handle with all the might he could muster. Ignoring the fact that he had seen the same trick fail only moments before, he tugged and yanked until his arms were sore from overexertion.

Before long, he found himself no better off, with his back to the wall and Zi’at floating mere inches from him.

---

There was a strange, slipping sensation and Sehrti felt the need to steady himself. A breeze whipped past his sensitive Elven ears, causing them to twitch. The void which sat at the centre of this divine being seemed to pull at him too, demanding that all things be devoured.

“Be not afraid. My presence here is temporary…” Zi’at’s voice was just as disorienting as his appearance. Each word seemed to peter out unnaturally and abruptly as it moved into the next; it was like each had been taken from a separate sentence and strung together after-the-fact.

“What do you want?!” Sehrti could not bring himself to make eye contact. He only found himself staring into that same blackness that threatened to take him, as he returned his hand to the door handle and gripped tightly.

---

“I am no-one of importance! Certainly no-one a god would be interested in!”

---

The ancient, cracked lips upon Zi’at’s face downturned slightly. There had once been a time when the Elves would have recognised him and understood the meaning of his presence on the physical plane, but clearly that time had long since passed. The mortal was terrified.

“I have but a passing interest in you. What is important is that in your coming, you honour an ancient agreement between myself and your people.”

“I… don’t understand.” Sehrti replied, hesitantly. After he did so, the eldritch god finally retreated somewhat, floating back into the middle of the passageway and gesturing with a gnarled talon towards the Sultan’s door.

“The Sultan, leader of your people, is dying. For all his might and influence he, like the smallest and most insignificant of insects, finds his end before him. These are his final moments – which I have now halted, heralding your arrival.”

---

“Dying?”

That was it, then. Sehrti finally had his answer, the reason as to why he had been summoned here. However, there were now a hundred more questions teeming at the tip of his tongue. Most prominent of all was:

“Why me?”