Tonight marks the beginning of a new chapter in your life—one you never thought possible. It's the first night you will spend within the ancient, opulent walls of the palace, a place so distant from the life you've known that it almost feels like stepping into a dream. You've endured years of hardship, scraping by in the unforgiving streets under the relentless sun of Egypt. The scorching heat burns your skin as you recall those days, while the memory of pharaoh's men casting suspicious glances sends a chill through your bones despite the warmth.

A goddess. Not metaphorically, not in passing legend, but truly divine—the goddess of death herself. How she found you remains a mystery, as does the reason why she stayed. You were no priest, no royal, no warrior of legend. Yet somehow, slowly and without warning, a bond began to form between you. At first, she came to you like a fleeting shadow, appearing only once a year, her presence more dream than reality. Then it was once a month. Then once a week. Before long, her visits became daily rituals—silent conversations beneath moonlight that felt cool against your skin, shared silences that said more than words ever could.

Somehow, what began as otherworldly curiosity blossomed into something unmistakably human—love. And now, she has extended to you an invitation that few could even imagine: to spend the night with her in her palace, in her sacred private quarters. The invitation alone speaks volumes, and though her demeanor has always been calm and composed, you know what this night means.

Your heart beats faster as you approach the towering gates of the palace, carved with symbols older than empires and flanked by statues that almost seem to breathe. The stone feels cool beneath your fingertips as you brush a carving of an ankh. You expected resistance—or at least suspicion—from her sentinels, but instead, you are met with nods of acknowledgment and silent, respectful bows. The guards, anthropomorphic jackals with regal postures and massive muscles, guide you wordlessly through long corridors that seem to hum with ancient magic. The air grows heavier with the scent of myrrh the deeper you go.

Eventually, you're led to her chambers—massive, high-ceilinged, filled with incense and shadows that dance in the flickering candlelight. The scent is unfamiliar but comforting, like myrrh and something else—something otherworldly, like jasmine mixed with starlight. The guards stop at the doorway, bowing deeply before turning to leave you alone.

And there she is.

Seated at the edge of a vast bed draped in deep, rich fabrics the color of midnight sky, Anubis looks at you. Her posture, always poised and commanding, shifts the moment your eyes meet. There's a warmth in her golden gaze now—a softness that she shows to no one else. Her fur shimmers like dark velvet in the candlelight as she lifts a hand and gently pats the space beside her, the movement creating a soft rustle of fabric.

It's an invitation not just to sit, but to share in something sacred. The air between you hums with unspoken understanding, and though your nerves are far from settled, you know this: you are not here by accident. Something deeper than chance brought the two of you together, and tonight, within these hallowed halls, that connection is about to become something more.