The next day offered no clarity like Caspian had hoped.
Instead, it only sharpened how lost he was.
Every thought in his head felt like a severed thread, tugging him in different directions, unraveling him.
The sword…
Heka…
The empire…
It was too much.
Three knocks at the door.
Caspian hesitated before opening it. Two figures stood before him, their faces smooth, unreadable. Haja. Their kind only served the rich, their presence in any household a symbol of status. Never slaves, always servants. They were marked dark lines curling like inked bindings along their wrists, their throats. Markings that told the world their purpose.
One held a tray food. The other, folded clothes.
"Our lord offers this for your use," one of them spoke, voice light, near soundless.
Caspian clenched his jaw. Our lord. That was Seti. The title alone made his skin crawl. He should refuse. The thought came quick, sharp. But it was just as quickly drowned by the hunger twisting inside him, by the grime on his skin, by exhaustion.
So he only nodded and stepped aside, allowing them in.
They moved with the kind of grace bred into those meant to serve—silent, efficient, placing the tray and garments down with precision. Their gazes never met his. Their presence barely disturbed the air.
"We are at your disposal. Should you require anything, ring," the first one said, gesturing to a bell hanging from a rope that disappeared into the ceiling.
Caspian looked at the bell but said nothing. The haja bowed in unison, then left, gliding away like smoke.
For a long moment, he didn't move.
His eyes flickered toward the tray. The scent of warm, spiced food curled through the air, dragging his hunger to the surface, but still, he lingered. His hands curled into fists at his sides.
He sighed, resistance flowing out of him and reached over to the food.
Cold water running down the skin turned out to be just what Caspian needed to get his head straight.
Or
It was more likely the additional crack he had sighted on his belly in the mirror during his bath that brought this clear head.
His only priority was to find the sword, and if seti and his clan were willing tools then so be it.
He could defend himself if it came to it, the way his body felt so full, almost thrumming with energy guaranteed him of that.
Cold water running down his skin turned out to be just what Caspian needed though he suspected it wasn't the water that had cleared his head.
It was the crack.
He had spotted it in the mirror, another fine fracture on his belly, branching out like veins beneath the surface. His body was changing. He didn't know how, or into what, but the uncertainty only reinforced what he already knew.
He had to keep moving.
The sword was the only priority. Everything else... Seti, his clan was just a means to an end. And if Seti- This clan was willing to be used, then so be it.
His body thrummed with energy, a strange fullness humming beneath his skin. If it came to it, he could defend himself. He was sure of that.
It was some time before another knock came.
A single, deliberate rap against the wood.
Once.
Gruff. Unhurried. Unmistakably Seti.
Caspian opened the door to find him standing there, looking more like a man of his station than he had the night before. His long, dark hair had been woven into braids, sharp and intricate, as if each strand had been placed with purpose.
Gold adorned his skin, sparse yet deliberate, glinting like scattered stars, a beautiful contrast on his dark skinat his ear, at his throat, threaded through his fingers. A leopard-skin coat draped over his shoulders, carelessly regal, and beneath it, pale blue silk trousers.
And yet, beneath the wealth, the wildness remained.
Danger wrapped around Seti like a python.
"The Elders of my clan would see you," Seti said, voice smooth, unreadable. "They have something that will aid you immensely."
Caspian nodded.
Seti's brows lifted slightly, like he had expected more of an argument.
"If you are ready, we could go now," he said. "It is my understanding that time is not where your riches lie at the moment."
Caspian met his gaze, then nodded again. "I will meet them now."
A glimmer of something crossed Seti's expression, gone before it could settle.
"Then let us go"
The ancestral home of Kasir loomed before Caspian.
Even at a glance, he knew this was no minor noble estate this was a seat of power. A big fish, even in the complicated web that was the nobility of the empire.
Seti had led him to a place that seemed both fortress and temple, a structure that whispered of secrets older than the empire itself.
A dense green patch stretched before the house like a natural curtain. The ground was rich with cultivated trees, deliberate and controlled acacias stood in careful formation, their twisted branches swaying in the wind, while a great baobab loomed to Caspian's left, its ancient presence commanding reverence.
Seti walked a step ahead of him.
He did not speak.
Caspian appreciated the silence.
And yet, he resented it.
He was not in the mood for conversation, but something in him felt that Seti should speak. That his silence, here, at the threshold of something vast and unknown, was deliberate. It irritated him.
Just before the entrance, Caspian hesitated.
The monolithic structure before him radiated concealed power, its dark, angular walls standing like a guardian of ancient terrible secrets. Black granite he assumed smooth and gleaming despite its age.
Huge pillars flanked the entrance, stark against the night. As they moved closer, he noticed symbols etched into the walls.
They were unfamiliar, but undeniably writing. A story locked in stone.
He loathed to ask Seti what they meant.
He didn't.
He swallowed his curiosity and followed, keeping his stride even.
When they stepped inside, the weight of the place pressed against him.
It felt sacred.
Something in him whispered that he should do something something like what Titi had done before. But he didn't remember the words, and so he stood there, awkward, while Seti bowed low and muttered beneath his breath.
Caspian clenched his jaw and moved forward.
The deeper they went, the more he felt it.
A slow descent into something ancient and alive.
The walls, dark and imposing, closed in around them, the narrow corridors making the path feel tighter, as if the space itself resisted their passage. Torches burned in their iron holds, their flames crackling, but their glow did little to push back the shadows.
The air was thick.
The atmosphere clung to Caspian like a heavy cloak, wrapping him in an almost suffocating presence.
They stopped before massive wooden doors.
Seti turned to him.
"Caspian, they will bring you no harm," he said. His voice was quiet but firm.
Caspian startled slightly at the use of his name.
He considered Seti's words.
They did nothing to calm him.