PROLOGUE: The Fall of Urukalil

The great City of Urukalil, which had stood proud in the desert for over five hundred years, was falling.

Zagin could hear the muffled sounds of chaos outside while she floated listlessly within the shallow pool where she’d delivered numerous holy edicts and prophecies as the Oracle of Nanshe. This was the place she had predicted the return of the Child of Sin—a destructive monster from her kingdom’s founding legend—and the downfall of the Kalil Dynasty. The sacking of Urukalil, too, had been predicted by Zagin.

She delivered the final prophecy mere hours before the city came under attack, prompting an evacuation that was never meant to include her. Left behind, she could only watch the passage of time from dawn to sunset, reflect on her life, and pray.

Zagin was named for her deep blue eyes, which were like the precious stones inlaid into the eyes of statues. Such a blessed name was a sign she was cherished. But now, those beautiful blue eyes could only stare fixedly towards the heavens that were visible through the glass dome covering the inner sanctuary, awaiting death.

Her sight was failing—it had been for a long time—but Zagin could still make out the full moon at its apex in the sky. Its bright light refracted off the water in the shallow pool, reflecting onto the polished marble walls, making it seem like everything was underwater. Zagin would have liked to drown in it.

Shouts drew near while the temple was ransacked. Thunderous booms indicated to the helpless Zagin that the heavy doors of the inner sanctuary were finally breached.

Perhaps if she had not been left paralyzed from the poisons ingested over and over as Oracle, she might have tried to flee herself. For even as Zagin wished to end the miserable existence that was thrust upon her before she’d even come of age, deep down inside, she still wanted to live.

“There’s someone in here!” came a man’s shout. “A girl!”

“Is she alive?” asked another man. Their voices were partially muffled by the water in Zagin's ears.

“I’m not sure…” responded the first one.

Zagin closed her eyes. A tear rolled down her cheek only to assimilate with the surrounding water.

How would she meet her end? Unable to resist, would she be toyed with by the invaders? Or would they just torture her for having a hand in propping up a tyrant king? The unending possibilities of human brutality plagued her mind as Zagin silently prayed for even a small mercy.

To her surprise, she could only hear a single pair of footsteps approach her. Zagin listened to the rhythmic jingling of chainmail while the soldier crossed the stone floor and stepped into the pool. Her eyes fluttered open when she felt him kneel beside her.

Moonlight formed a halo around his head as he looked down on her. Her vision had become terribly myopic, but Zagin could still discern the look of disgust on his face as the soldier removed his horned helmet.

How wretched she must have appeared in his eyes with her balding head, jaundiced skin covered in weeping sores, and dried blood crusted around her mouth.

The soldier pulled her thin, frail frame into his arms with the same delicate care afforded to a newborn baby. Now closer, Zagin found herself breathless as she took in his beautiful features—high cheekbones, sharp eyes, and hair as red as blood.

He must have been a messenger sent by Nergal himself to escort her to the underworld. Truly, only an attendant to the gods could ever be so beautiful.

“Surely not all Maidens of Nanshe are as pitiable as you?” His lips pulled into a sneer as he continued to mock her. “It seems servants of the gods are still thoroughly used up in this country.” The soldier clicked his tongue and shook his head in mock sympathy. “Did they leave you behind because they no longer needed you? Such is the fate of those who follow the descendants of that treacherous viper, Kalil.”

While Zagin could hardly be considered a follower of King Kalil, the Oracle of Nanshe was a tool at his disposal in the pursuit of absolute power. The redheaded man spouted nothing but venom, but he was detestably correct in his assertions.

Zagin wanted nothing more than to spit in his face. Yet alas, all she could do at that point was glare. When his amber eyes, which seemed to reflect light, met Zagin’s blurred gaze, his expression softened.

“Though I cannot help but ponder how you ended up in this state,” he murmured while caressing her cheek softly. “Can you speak?” Lowering his voice to a nasty hiss, he added, “Will you plead for your life like all the others? Or will you die like the dog you are?”

Zagin’s lips, tinged blue with cold, trembled as she tried to speak. Her throat and mouth were dry with dehydration in stark contrast to the soaked linen tunic clinging to her weak body. Though she lay in water, Zagin could not turn her head enough to drink nor drown.

The soldier leaned in to hear Zagin’s whispered words. Strands of his long, wild hair tickled as they brushed past her face and dipped into the water. Zagin could feel the warmth of his breath against her cool skin while he listened closely.

Through labored breath, she finally uttered a single, raspy request. “Kill…me…”

Grant me salvation through death.

“Very well. I will gladly put this feeble dog out of its misery,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to Zagin’s forehead. “Let’s hope you still have the gods’ favor.”

There was malice in his words, but tenderness in his touch. Zagin let out a long sigh as he laid her back into the pool.

In the end, the altar where she’d been the mouthpiece for the gods would become her tomb. She closed her eyes a final time, knowing it was the end, relieved to be freed from the miserable existence of Oracle.

There was no acceptance on her part. Who would accept such a shameful, pitiful way to die? With no proper send-off, would she even exist in the afterlife?

The thought of being denied a reunion with all the loved ones who’d gone before her was too painful. If only she could have lived and died happily instead.

Zagin held one final prayer in her heart. Gods Above, please let me find happiness after this life.

She didn’t even hear the soldier unsheathe his sword, nor did she feel his final blow. Instead, Zagin woke up in her comfortable bed, alive and well.

Zagin, the cherished blue stone of the gods. Perhaps it was her eyes that indicated their favor of her.