[center][b]Nin-Anuniti I[/b][/center]

[center][img]https://img00.deviantart.net/7b52/i/2007/105/c/f/evil_swamp_by_najadgr8t1.jpg[/img][/center]

	The Head had long ago lost track of time. The box in which it was locked was sealed by magic. No light or air could penetrate its magical seals, and even if it failed, the box had been buried deep in the muddy ground. But the Head did not know that. It had been so long since it had known anything other than the total darkness of the box that its memories were muddled. It even doubted there was anything outside the confines of the lightless existence that seemed to encompass all creation.

	Oh, The Head had vague recollections. Blurry and faint outlines of images, of things that weren't the silent, stale darkness. But it couldn't really call them memories, for they were barely there. For all it knew, these flashes could just be illusions created by itself so that it could see something other than constant nothing for eternity. But if they were merely false memories, and if this endless void was the whole universe, then how The Head could fabricate these thoughts? Things that did not, do not and will never exist?

	This would certainly be an interesting line of thought to pursue, if only to give The Head something to do. Except that The Head could barely muster a coherent thought these days. 50 years without sustenance tends to do that with the Zul-Agar, specially one as young as it. Not that The Head was aware of this fact. It hadn't been aware of much after the first couple of years. The spells weaved on the box and wards placed above ground had been enough to keep it from starving to death, but little more than that. Reducing The Head to a half sentient, almost catatonic state, with the hunger a dull but persistent 

	That is, until it heard the song started. At first it barely registered to The Head, but it grew louder and louder and louder until it overtook everything else. Even the darkness didn't hold against the enthralling tunes. It was as if the head could see the words and notes dancing around inside the box, a glowing and swirling rainbow of impossible colors and twisting into sickening shapes. Against such onslaught, The Head could do nothing even as its mind was overwhelmed and the spinning notes were replaced by blinding white.

	Then it-she remembered. An unrelenting torrent of thoughts, memories, flashes of events, a million different sensations. All 150 years of life before her imprisonment. Nin-Anunit remembered, her mouth twisting into a soundless howl as her mind struggled so assimilate the wild maelstrom of images flashing before her eyes. A warm liquid slipped into her mouth and the world went still for a terrifying moment and the images faded away.

	Nin-Anunit was now aware of her surroundings. Resting on a moss covered altar atop one of the hills that dotted the Lerin-Gaen swamps. And before her stood a massive human-like figure armored in silver, crimson and brass. Nin-Anunit shuddered as the memories came to her. The last thing she had seen before being put into the box was her brother wiping of the blood of his sword - which she was sure he had left purposefully dull. She had seen Kul-Avarz taking off limbs and heads with but a single blow numerous times. No way he would need 20 to sever her head from her shoulders - Nin-Anunit looked upwards and managed all of three seconds of direct eye contact before the sneering silver mask made her lower her eyes again.

	"It pleases me to see you again, my beloved sister." Her sibling rumbled as he grabbed her by the side of the head and brought her to his eye level. "As decreed by our Beloved Sire, the mighty Serpent-Lion, the first phase of your punishment is over. Now I am to escort you back to our Sire's halls so that you may hear and bear the rest of your sentence. HAIL ASHUR-SHADAM!"

	The surrounding retainers, mostly acolytes who participated in the ritual and a few guards to escort the now sacrificed slaves, took up the chant. As did Nin-Anunit, such blatant disrespect was what had landed her in this situation to start with.

	With the formalities over, Kul-Avarz threw her inside a bag that left half her head poking out and set out on his merry way out of the swamp. Not even bothering to bypass the pile of dead and mutilated slaves. The acolytes and guards followed in silence and at a respectable distance.

	"First thing." He started. "Yata has been ruling the satrapy for the last 30 years. Father locked himself in his chambers and has had very little contact with us these last decades. No one really knows what he's doing. But judging by the amount of supplies he's requesting, it's big."

	Nin-Anunit remained silent. She had nothing to say to that. Whatever father was cooking up was beyond her skill and understanding. Yata, however, was the pressing issue. Being the youngest sister, she had had little contact with her father's eldest besides official functions and ceremonies. Too big of an age difference and vastly divergent interests and paths. Yata was father's right hand, Nin-Anunit was just the youngest of his Spawn, too inexperienced, too weak and useless to deserve any particular interest.

	"Did father leave any instructions to her?" She finally asked as Kul-Avarz lifted the bag to cross one of the deep, fetid streams that fed the swamp. "On what more punishment I should receive?"

	"No, I don't think so." Her brother finally replied after a pause. "Father embarked upon this endeavor in a hurry. I don't think it was something he planned. Yata has had free reign over us all, essentially." He added, hints of displeasure seeping into his voice. She decided not to comment on that.

	"Of course, this might work to your advantage." Her brother continued. "I doubt Yata would spare too much thought to a runt like you. Which is good, the less she thinks about it, the less harsh the punishment will be."

	It took Nin-Anunit far more control to not comment on that. Yes, she was the youngest, but no need to go around insulting her for it. Still, it was her mouth that got her into this mess to start with. So better stay quiet rather than risk angering the powers that be.

	"I don't recall you ever being this quiet, little sister." Her brother mused as a lumbering shape within the bushes ran away at their approach. "I understand that you are yet reeling from your ordeal, but I hope that the experience hasn't drained away your...youthful vigor for good."

	"I have bigger things to worry about." Nin-Anuniti replied. "Pestering the cooks for bleeding hearts can wait until I've regained my place in our father's service."

	"Look at little Nin, all grown up and mature." Her brother chuckled with condescencion dripping from his words - a loud, rumbling thing. Like everything Kul-Avarz did - and ruffled her filthy, stringy and brittle hair with a bit too much force. "Don't worry, little Nin, I got your back."

	Nin-Anuniti relaxed slightly at that. She might have been too young before her punishment and her memories might still be jumbled. But from what she could recall, that was as good as she could get with her brother. So she simply smiled at him and counted her blessings. Praying to the Stars that he actually meant what he said.