The sky dawned with a grayish hue, overcast, as if it sensed the heaviness the day would bring. Alfia jolted awake, drenched in sweat—though this time, she didn't scream. She slowly sat up on the makeshift bed of dry leaves and old fabric. Her hands trembled, but her gaze was fixed on the ground. A shaky sigh escaped her lips.
She had dreamed of death.
Not her own—but Enkidu's.
In the dream, he and King Gilgamesh faced a monstrous creature, an abomination that roared with the fury of the heavens: the Beast of the Gods—Gugalanna.
An indescribable being, its size so immense that one couldn't tell where its body ended and the sky began. Tornadoes and storms cloaked it, its mere presence wreaking havoc upon the world.
Enkidu and Gilgamesh fought side by side, as if the fate of all existence depended on it. And they succeeded. They defeated the beast. But victory came with a price.
Ishtar, enraged, demanded that the gods kill one of them for slaying a divine creature. And as one created by the gods, the condemned was Enkidu.
She saw him collapse slowly, his body falling into Gilgamesh's arms—arms that held him with desperation. The king wept. Gilgamesh wept. A king who feared no god, broken by a death he could not stop.
She saw him scream in fury, cursing fate for claiming his friend, shouting that he should have been the one to die.
And Enkidu's final words:
"I'm just one of the countless weapons in your collection. There's no need to cry—there are greater treasures yet to come," he whispered, seeing Gilgamesh's tears.
"Fool!" the king shouted at him.
"In this entire world, only one shall ever be my friend. And for that, his worth will never fade—not even in eternity!"
Those words still haunted her, even awake. She didn't know why, but something in them left a strange weight in her chest. As if a piece of that pain had remained within her.
—
Later, while walking in silence along a path strewn with roots and dry leaves, Alfia could no longer keep it in.
"I saw you die," she murmured without looking at him, her voice low, almost as if she were speaking to herself. "I saw that king… Gilgamesh. He cried for you."
Enkidu walked a few paces ahead, but his steps slowed. He stopped. The wind blew softly, as if it, too, was listening.
"It was my fate," he said with that unshakable calm of his. "That's how my life ended. We defeated the beast, and I paid the price."
She frowned.
"The gods killed you for that?"
"They reclaimed me," he corrected. "It wasn't hatred. It was punishment. I simply returned to where I originally belonged."
An uncomfortable silence fell, full of thoughts neither of them knew how to voice.
"Do you miss him?" she asked suddenly, unsure where the question had come from. Part of her regretted even saying it.
"Always," Enkidu replied without hesitation. "I often wonder what became of his life. When I died, he was left alone—without anyone who truly understood him, without someone to walk beside him as an equal. And it hurts to think of the solitary pain he must've felt afterward."
She glanced sideways at him. He didn't seem sad. He didn't seem to feel anything at all.
"You don't look it."
"Not everyone who smiles is truly happy, master."
—
Days later, they shared a simple meal by a stream of crystal-clear water. A few fruits, hard bread, some dried meat. Alfia chewed with a bored expression, as if the taste offended her.
"This forest can't hold us forever," she said suddenly. "You brought me here to recover, and I've spent my time hiding. I can't keep doing that."
Enkidu split an apple with his bare hands, effortlessly.
"Then let's leave."
"That easy?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Wherever you go, I will follow. If your path is uncertain, then so is mine."
She let out a quiet huff.
"You take things too literally."
"I'm a weapon. Following is what I do best."
"You're not a weapon. Not completely," she muttered without looking at him, and popped the last piece of bread into her mouth.
After that, they packed what little they had. Alfia glanced at herself in a mirror—her signature green and gray eyes, her silver hair.
"They'll recognize me if I show up like this, Enkidu. Years may have passed, but the gods—and the ones from back then—they'll remember me," she said.
He looked at her and nodded.
"Then you'll have to change something. What's the one thing they'd remember you for the most?"
Alfia stared at her reflection for a moment. She saw her hair, the simple white clothes Enkidu had made for her after her usual garments were destroyed long ago. Finally, her gaze fixed on her eyes.
"My eyes. That's what people recognize me for the most."
"Then we change their color. They're certainly striking. Something simpler would be best," Enkidu said.
Alfia sighed and nodded. She touched her long hair and glanced at him.
"I'll dye my hair too, just in case."
With that, she began preparing an ointment to change her hair color after gathering the necessary ingredients.
Soon, a dark paste was ready. It smelled awful, but Alfia applied it throughout her hair, down to the roots, unfazed by the scent.
While she waited for it to dry, she turned to Enkidu—who was playing with a lion.
"Enkidu, I don't remember any method to change eye color. We'd need a first-class mage for that."
Enkidu stopped playing, making the lion look disappointed. He smiled and scratched its mane as it purred.
"I have to go, but if I return, we'll play again. Okay?"
The lion nodded its large head, seemingly understanding, then quickly left.
Enkidu smiled and looked back at Alfia, who was watching him in silence, lost in thought.
"I don't have abilities that can reshape physical traits like your body," he said, "but I can try something small with magic."
"You know magic?" Alfia asked, surprised.
"My class is Lancer. My magical ability is close to zero," he explained with his usual calm smile. "But I can manage tiny changes—like eye color."
—
Some time later, Alfia stepped outside the house with jet-black hair cascading down her back. Her once green and gray eyes were now violet. She wore a simple black-and-white outfit she'd made herself, with a pair of sturdy boots.
Enkidu stood beside her, carrying the few things they'd built together over the years.
"All right, let's go, Enkidu. Let's head to the center of the world."
Enkidu smiled and nodded.