Asura approached the grotesque statue with great trepidation. Her breath caught in her throat, coated in the heavy iron odor choking her. Goosebumps crawled up her arms and legs, prickling all the way up to her neck. Even the seldom sun rays beaming in through the small vents near the roof waned, muted by the sharp atmosphere. Silence engulfed her, sucking even her breaths with it. 

This is never a good sign. 

Forcing a breath through her mouth, she exhaled in an attempt to calm her nerves. Her comrades on the battlefield laughed at her for openly expressing her fear, but it wasn’t the act of suppressing her fear that threatened to overwhelm her. 

Overcoming it felt like a wall full of brambles she had to climb over. A wide, uncovered stretch of path she had to cross, with no cover, completely out in the open with all her vulnerability exposed. She had to know what was on the other side of it, believe that she could find it. 

She knew fear was only temporary, and only by moving through it would she learn anything, experience everything. She had proven it many times with her life on the line, standing amidst a sea of bodies she had slain. 

In the few steps she took towards the statue, her sense of urgency returned, and she forced herself to look away from the bloody face of Piatys. She warily placed her hands on the stone before her, feeling for the smallest crack, divots that would signify wear and tear. Anything that would lead her to a space that could hold the souls she sought. 

Pointedly avoiding the feet of Piatys’s statue, she made her way around to the back of the statue, where the wings of the goddess sheltered a pocket of space tucked behind her. The likeness of feathery appendages cast shadow upon it, making it hard for Asura to see, even with the cloudless day outside. 

Squinting, she approached the space, something about it not quite right. She crouched, and fine dust was ground beneath her heel. She’s seen the priest sweeping before, would he really neglect behind the goddess he worships? 

Sliding her hands on the floor, she felt for irregularities in the surface, stopping when she felt what seemed to be a scratch. Her eyebrows knit into a frown as it lead her finger around in a curve. 

A circle?

She crawled closer, putting her face inches from the ground she was investigating. A handful of light stones weighed in her bag, but she didn’t want to waste them so early in her scouting expedition. 

Carefully, she dug at the edges of the circle, looking for a dip in the stone, and attempted to lift it. With a silent hush, it coaxed open, but stopped. Asura tried to pull it harder, but her hand slipped, falling off the elevated circle. and fell back softly. Righting herself and turning her attention back to her task, she sighed with small relief, only to frown. 

When her hand slipped, the circle was pushed to the side, revealing a lock underneath. The lock had two holes, one shallow and the other looked like a regular keyhole on a door. The shallow lock gave her pause. It looked like the pendant the father always wore. 

Now how am I going to get that off his damned neck without killing him?

She hated restraint. Trying not to kill someone was so much harder than outright killing them. She had no patience to do so, nor would her stamina be infinite. It was better to be quick than drawn out. 

But in the case of killing a Father of the temple, she couldn’t cross that threshold here. Perhaps she could buy a replica somewhere among the shops that existed. 

Pondering her options, an echoing thud sounded from somewhere inside the temple. On alert, Asura hyper-focused on her surroundings, trying to identify where the sound came from. When she didn’t hear footsteps or anything indicating she wasn’t alone anymore, she began to make her way back safely. 

A vibrating movement came from the floor beneath her. She hardly took a step when the floor lifted upwards, grinding softly against its frame. She rolled to the end that still touched the floor, her heart in her throat as she dove for the side of Piatys’s podium. 

“-and that poor bastard lost his house, his wife and his kid. What a waste!”

A tenor voice leaked from the opening, accompanied with the sounds of boots on… wood? It was a soft sound, like the material absorbed most of the impact of all things that touched it. 

“Waste for him, maybe! But them emerald eyes of hers are callin’ to me. Ain’t a waste, I’d say.” Burly and deep, a second voice snickered with delight, following the first voice out. The taps of their boots on stone halted while they closed the door Asura was just perched on. She didn’t dare peek as they finished, praying that a beam of sunlight wouldn’t cast her shadow and alert them of her presence despite her stillness. 

“You think she’d scratch your eyes out first? Or try and cut-”

With a soft click, the voices and boots receded behind the door the priests go in and out of to the left of the altar. 

Still breathing slow and shallow, Asura waited for several seconds before she brazenly poked just one eye out from her haphazard hiding spot. 

“Excuse me.” Barely a whisper brushed past her ear. 

Flinging herself forward and scrambling to her feet, she faced her visitor with wild eyes. Her blood cold in her veins, her body felt stiff like her soul had forgotten to move with her. She barely stifled a scream at the intrusion. 

Braided hair wrapped in gold twinkled in the dim light of the temple, and a sharp set of eyes were trained on her. His hands were brought up in wordless apology. 

Kiln had scared the sense right out of her. She decided to ignore the twinkle in his eye as he shifted on his heels in a crouch. 

“Is this the door you’ve been looking for?” He tapped it with his finger, reaching a long arm to the corner of the stone door she had just fled from. 

“I don’t know yet.” She said truthfully. 

Why are you here?

But instead of wondering, she asked him directly. 

“What are you doing here?” She dusted off her clothes nonchalantly. 

“Hunting. Just like you.” 

At first a wave of surprise washed over her. It quickly clouded with suspicion. 

“Is your prey a little girl?” Her hand twitched, craving the taste of her sword hilt. 

Kiln’s eyes are directed at her, and he gave her a lopsided smile. 

“Both girls and boys.” He wiggles his fingers in a mocking way. 

Right. He would have killed me by now if he had wanted to. He must be here on the Prince’s orders. 

Her cheeks burn, thankful that it’s too dark behind Piatys to see the specific shade of red her face had turned. 

Feeling with his hands, Kiln deftly found the covered keyholes and brought out a leather pouch. Picking two different kinds of tools, he inserted it into the deeper lock along with the second one. After several heartbeats, his voice is quiet but firm. 

“Hold this.”

She took the tools and held them as directed. After checking her position, he reached around his neck and pulled out a pendant with a crescent moon pinching an hourglass, pressing it into the shallow indentation. 

Click. 

He grabbed the brass ring surrounding the locks and pulled the door open, its mechanisms allowing entry. 

“After you.” Kiln muttered as Asura takes her first step into the cellar, still holding the tools. 

A wave of mildew, iron, something foul and yet sweet reached her nose. 

How could I ever forget this smell. 

Nausea and disgust battling it out in her stomach, she stepped onto the mossy path. 

That would explain the lack of sound. 

The moss eventually ended, but thankfully, it was still lit. This made Asura both grateful and nervous, as it meant the two men would be back, or there were still men in here somewhere. 

She gripped her dagger that she begrudgingly took from her father’s linen drawer. She wouldn’t be able to wield a sword skillfully enough to kill a man, but she could wield a dagger well enough. It wasn’t a sword hilt, but it was better than nothing. 

Hearing a crunching noise, she paused, Kiln following her lead. She crept up to the edge of the current tunnel where it branched off, and peered around the rough corner. 

It appeared to be a child, hunched over and eating something. Their head swiveled from side to side in the effort of tearing with their teeth, and the arms jerked back with the force of the release. Asura thought she caught a glimpse of a hairless tail. 

She began to step forward, but Kiln gripped her shoulder firmly. 

He tapped his temple, urging her to think. He pointed at his wrists, then his ankles, shaking his head. 

Either this child is too far gone to think of escaping, or they’re a lookout. 

Both options made Asura feel pity, but she couldn’t risk being discovered this early in her task. 

Retreating in favor of a different route, she tiptoed backwards and began towards a different opening, several yards to the left. After several careful steps, she couldn’t hear Kiln’s steps behind her anymore. A flash of green eyes spooked her from the darkness of the corridor, and she involuntarily gasped. 

“Hello, little mouse.” A low voice reverberated in the space, jolting Asura and sending shivers up her neck. 

She looked up further and found a crouched man in the dark, perched up on a plank of wood. She couldn’t see his eyes, but knew they were focused on her. It even sounded like he was smiling.