As they drew closer to the temple, its immense size and deep decay became

  immediately apparent.

  What had seemed like damage from simple erosion revealed, upon closer

  inspection, clear traces of attack.

  The gouged and broken sections bore unmistakable marks of siege weapons.

  There were areas roughly patched or covered over, but even there the scars of

  arrow fire were visible.

  The temple had been built on a limestone base, with its entrance and pillars

  erected from fine granite.

  Its surface, stained yellow by loess and time, spoke silently of the many years

  it had endured.

  ‘This is way too obviously suspicious.’

  ‘You can see signs that it was attacked and destroyed by an army in the

  past.’

  When Wadji tried to run ahead, Elaton quickly grabbed him.

  ‘Wadji, this place is suspicious. Be careful.’

  Wadji continued translating the old man’s words.

  “A long night will soon come. How about resting your bodies under the warm

  protection of Mehen?”

  The old man had unkempt, frizzy hair and a deeply wrinkled face.

  Ela asked in a low voice,

  “Who is Mehen?”

  “He’s a gigantic serpent who protects the sun god Ra.”

  The old man gestured toward the temple entrance, urging them to come inside.

  The five siblings and Wadji stood there silently for a moment.

  A massive serpent relief was carved above the entrance.

  Judging by its style, it clearly dated back to a much earlier era.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  At last, Azael spoke.

  “Thank you for the welcome. We were looking for a place to stay anyway.”

  As Azael followed the old man, the others went in after him.

  Uneasy, Ela whispered,

  ‘Are we really going in like this? It looks dangerous.’

  ‘Just follow him. We won’t know what’s here unless we go in.’

  Chastened by Tamar’s curt reply, Ela checked her equipment and tightened her

  focus.

  The old man raised his voice and called for the lower priests.

  One by one, priests emerged from the darkness and lit oil lamps.

  As the flames flared to life, an interior corridor adorned with ornate reliefs

  came into view.

  Most of them depicted scenes praising a colossal serpent.

  The old man led them to a dining hall and invited them to sit.

  As each took a stone chair, priests brought out food and laid it before them.

  There was hard ritual bread, dried meat, and beer with a sharp, sour smell.

  Their simple fare reflected the temple’s straitened circumstances.

  Tamar was the first to touch the beer, bread, and meat.

  She gauged whether there were any dangerous substances such as poison or

  sleeping drugs.

  When she nodded, the others began to eat.

  “Wanderers, you may rest here and ease your weariness before departing. If I

  may ask, where are you headed?”

  “Heliopolis. There’s someone who needs treatment.”

  At the mention of Heliopolis, the old man’s brow twitched almost

  imperceptibly.

  He was still smiling, but that subtle shift weighed heavily on the air.

  “You’re going to a great city. But the sanctity of this place is second to

  none. May I ask who it is that needs healing?”

  Wadji answered without thinking.

  “Me. I lost my memories.”

  The faint smile on the old man’s face deepened slightly.

  Suddenly, a cold wind swept through the dining hall.

  The shadows cast by the flickering lamps slowly grew, as if being swallowed by

  the darkness.

  The old man nodded and continued.

  “Amnesia, you say… It may be cured by the blessing of the great serpent…”

  Azael set down the beer cup he was holding and looked steadily at the old

  man as he spoke.

  “There are many great serpents. For example… Apophis.”

  The old man also set down his cup.

  And in an instant, the darkness lurking in the dining hall surged forth and

  engulfed the group.

  *Patreon is now open. You can enjoy the next episode and illustrations there.

  *For managing the series, I will upload twice every three days.