Kharvathar followed Neftraya into the temple. He already walked much like a human, though with rigid, upright posture. As they passed, the bowed figures on either side rose respectfully.
"They are scholars and followers as well," she explained, anticipating that he might be wondering.
"Neither you nor they have shown fear in my presence," Kharvathar observed. He surveyed the vast chamber of golden and white stone, adorned with intricate carvings and sculptures. Neftraya turned to him while gesturing for one of the attendants to fetch the fabrics from the altar.
"Our inspiration is a form of reverence," she replied.
"I mean your expression—regardless of what you carry within. The humans out there looked at me with terror, and they attacked because of it." Kharvathar explained, glancing around as he recalled how even he himself had panicked upon realizing the change within his own body.
"But you look at me… with normalcy," he found the right words. His mind now processed hearing and speech with ease; the strangeness had faded from his voice.
"We are skilled at concealing our fears, my lord."
"Kharvathar," he interrupted. He understood the term she used, but preferred his name. "This is my name."
Neftraya inclined her head slightly in acknowledgment. She found it intriguing that a superior being preferred to be addressed by name rather than a title denoting his station.
"Kharvathar," the priestess repeated. "I said I took part in your misfortune, but I must admit I did not know this would happen. This new form of yours…" She took the red fabrics from the altar handed to her by one of the servants and approached his bare body. Some of the other attendants dispersed to other chambers. Kharvathar remained attentive to her words.
"Your God did not tell you?" he asked, his tone accusatory. He stood tall—slightly taller than everyone present. Neftraya narrowed her brows.
"Please, allow us to cover you," she requested, raising her arms with the cloths and bowing slightly. Kharvathar looked at the fabrics and recalled noticing that everyone else wore such coverings while he did not.
"Shame… that is the name of the discomfort, is it not?" He remembered feeling a trace of it earlier when he noticed their garments. She was beginning to believe her assumptions were correct.
"You understand that?" she asked, curiosity evident as the other servants draped the cloths over his shoulders and around his waist. The sensation of fabric against his skin was strange to Kharvathar, yet somehow it felt… better.
"I understand many things," he affirmed, meeting her gaze. The air carried the cool scent of incense. "I learn quickly. And from what I have noticed—you still have not answered me. Your God did not tell you?"
"He did—but He took the knowledge from my mind immediately afterward." Neftraya sighed, lowering her eyes to express her discontent. Kharvathar found this odd.
"Then you cannot serve me."
"I can. But we do not need a God for that. What happened to the Lord…" She insisted on the term. "…came from Him, so another path is required to reverse it." She smiled as some servants placed basins on the altar.
"And that path, Lord Kharvathar, is one you will forge—with your mind." She ascended the steps, following his gaze.
"You have learned very quickly, have you not?" Neftraya wanted to test how far she could converse with the mind of the being before her. She noticed his eyes did not move like a human's—they were deep and predatory.
"Is there a problem with that?" he asked. Kharvathar was growing impatient; his instincts warned that she might be deceptive.
"It depends. When did you first awaken? When did you first feel truly yourself?"
Kharvathar paused to consider the question.
"I am not certain, but fragments of memory remain." He narrowed his eyes, studying the altar's carvings—humans with animal features. "Most of my recollection is from before I had thoughts." Neftraya nodded faintly in agreement while adjusting her own white tunic at the bust.
"We learned of a winged being soaring the skies thirty nights ago. Our history speaks of an ancient prophecy preserved in the first temple: that a creature from the heavens would descend upon Namar-Kheph and destroy everything."
She placed her hand on the altar and met his gaze. "When the pharaoh began having his first dreams, I knew the moment was near. I performed a sacrifice and spoke with God—and He showed me you. Flying among the clouds."