Chapter 12. Born in Grief

CYRUS

I stagger into the dark until I reach a tableau covered by lush grasses and flowers whose colors I am unable to distinguish. The full moon beams through the dark clouds, a cold breeze hanging in the air and biting into my lungs.

The vision I just saw sends me wobbling outside, disoriented by the intense headache accompanying it. Having drifted away from the noise, I stand still, shutting my eyes and reveling in the healing the quietude brings. I search my memories to check for pieces to complete the patch of memory but find nothing.

What I am sure of is that I met two significant people in my past life: a woman with intense gray irises and an ominous man with eyes like red hot iron. To remember in full, perhaps I have to find them. But where do I start from? Where do I locate two sketchy people in an enormous universe?

The sound of breaking twigs and slithering footsteps pulls me out of my meditation. I turn, only to see Nabu ambling toward me. I can ma