To Love and Blood

Layla has watched her ex-husband and her friend die, and now she is pissed.

As soon as Harrow and his soldiers had left the room, ushabti in hand, Layla rushed forward. First to Marc, who stares back with unseeing dead eyes, then to Kat whose eyes she can’t even see, which is somehow worse.

Layla cries quietly as she drags Kats body next to Marc’s and gently closes Marc's eyes, her tears falling freely and faster than she can wipe them away. She takes a moment to grieve, to muffle sobs against her fist and to curse the world and everything that had brought them to this. But after her moment of grieving, Layla stands, wipes away her tears, and follows Harrow.

She follows him and his soldiers out of the tomb, ducking and hiding to remain out of sight. Her mind set on one goal: Get revenge and save the world.

***

Well death is certainly different than Kat thought it would be. Much more…familiar.

Pale yellow walls stare back at her in the low fading daylight while the Iroise sea crashes in waves outside. The soft scent of salt soaks into everything around, balancing with the smell of lavender and stale air. The pale tan carpeted floor is soft against Kats bare feet, her shoes nowhere to be found.

Slowly, Kat emerges from a vacant daze, coming into her own body and beginning to be aware of everything around her. A hall that leads to the kitchen and the stairs to the upper level is waiting to her right, beckoning for Kat to walk its path. A viridian green couch sits covered in dust, facing the bulky TV with DVDS scattered around it.

Walking forward, Kat crouches down to pick up one of the movies, smiling softly at the familiar Disney movie cover and remembering how she and Claire would spend days just watching it on repeat.

“Claire…” Kat whispers, fear rising in her chest as she remembers Harrow's threats. And now she is dead, and Claire has no idea the danger she's in.

Drawing her knees to her chest, Kat feels her breath shorten as she begins to rock back and forth, closing her eyes tightly against the tears wanting to escape. Her chest feels tight and unbearable, she is sure her chest will explode with the weight of the pressure.

The scent of whisky floats under Kats nose and the air that had felt trapped so tightly all of a sudden rushes out of her lungs and makes them burn with the quick loss.

Standing on her shaky feet, Kat walks towards the awaiting hall to the kitchen where the crashing of the sea is louder and the scent of whisky is stronger. One foot in front of the other, Kat breathes deeply to steady her heart as she enters the kitchen.

It's all as she remembered it. Dark stained cabinets line the walls around the marble kitchen island, cool tiles beneath her feet sending cold shivers up her spine. On the floor sits a child curled into herself, tears streaking down her puffy red cheeks and her snotty nose as she rocks slowly back and forth. A woman with matching chestnut hair is kneeling beside the child, brushing hair back from the child's face and whispering soft words.

“Hello?” Kat says, but the two can’t seem to hear her, ignoring her presence entirely.

Walking forward, Kat can see the dark bruise beginning to form on the child's cheek, hues of purple just beginning to bloom among the dark angry reds. The child's eyes are so tired, lined by dark bags that starkly contrast her deep blue eyes.

‘Ah,’ Kat realizes with a gasp and deepening sense of dread, ‘I remember this now.’

“It's okay, Katalya.” The woman, her mother, is saying, patting the kids head, “He was just upset, your fathers under a lot of stress you know.”

The child nods slowly, sniffling loudly.

“There's no use in crying, ma fille.” Her mother continues, patting little Katalya's back and standing up, “Now go play with your sister, she's upstairs I believe.”

The child looks at her mother and Kat can see the pain in her eyes, the longing for comfort and understanding. Her mother just shoos her along until, with great hesitancy, little Katalya stands and walks down another hallway.

Kat takes a moment to look at her mother for the first time in 18 years, taking in her tired eyes, the sadness lingering as she stares after her eldest daughter.

“Hi mom.” Kats voice cracks as she speaks, pressing her lips together to prevent the tears welling in her eyes. She knows it’s stupid, that her mother cannot hear her, but this memory is all she has to remember, too see her one last time. “I'm sorry I never came back, I'm sorry I left you here with him but I couldn't stay, not after what happened.”

Kat swallows thickly, “I visit your grave sometimes when I can, it's nice there.” Kat sighs and shakes her head sadly as her mother says nothing, not even acknowledging her, “You would be so disappointed in me, maman. I've become just like him.”

Images of Harrow's face held under water appears in her mind, her hands coated in blood and stained deep red.

Taking one last look at her mother, Kat turns away and follows where her younger self had went just moments before.

Brown wooden stairs lead upstairs, coming to a stop at the beginning of a long hallway lined by doors tightly shut. So many doors. Too many.

“This is not my home.” Kat whispers, narrowing her eyes at her surroundings with new suspicion.

A ghostly giggle floats from behind the first door on Kats left, a voice shrieking in delight and mixing with another in laughter. Hope soars in Kats heart as she throws caution to the wind and opens the door without a second thought, her only goal to get to that voice again.

Stepping through, Kat is transported to a park with green grass that blows in the breeze. A picnic blanket laid on the ground with coloring books scattered over it and two children sitting together in the middle, braiding each other's hair.

Katalyas younger self and a child with lighter brown hair that shines with copper when the sun hits it right. Kat’s older in this memory, almost twelve while the girl with her is about eight.

“Claire.” Kat breaths, stepping forward and falling to her knees before the two giggling children.

For a moment, Claire's eyes meet hers, icy blue staring unseeing back at Kat. That was always the one part of Claire Kat didn't like, those eyes that match their fathers. They still send a shiver through Kat now as she stares at her sister.

The scene shifts around her and Kat is thrust into another memory. Claire and Kat are older, sitting at the kitchen table as they help each other with homework.

“You take the decimal and move it back,” Claire is explaining patiently as a young Katalya follows along, her brows deepening in confusion as she worries her lip between her teeth, “and then you need to divide it by six.”

“Oh, that's much easier than I thought.” Young Katalya says, smiling gratefully at her sister.

Kats shoulders relax and she smiles softly at the memory, until there's a thump from upstairs. And then another. Footsteps stomping down the stairs.

“Go to your room.” Young Katalya instructs Claire, quickly sweeping their books together and ordering them neatly. She turns when Claire makes no move to go, just stares at her with wide eyes, “Go to your room, Claire. Please.”

“I'm sorry.” Claire says softly before ducking her head and scurrying off to safety.

The footsteps grow closer and Kat can see her younger self relaxing her muscles and clenching her jaw, steadying her breaths as the stench of whisky and salt enters the room.

Kats back is to the doorway, she can't see him but she can feel his presence behind her. Kat doesn’t turn around, instead she bolts for the door on the other side of the room and tugs it open, almost tearing it off its hinges as she stumbles back out into the hallway from before.

Her heart beats widely in Kats chest as she sucks in breath after breath until the scent of whisky has faded. Alone in the hall, Kat walks warily past doorways, more careful now. She stays as far away from the doors as possible, never getting close enough to touch the handle no matter the noises coming from behind them.

Finally after what seems like hours but was more likely only a few minutes, Kat reaches the door at the end of the hall. It stands alone and calls for Kat to open it, for an inexplicable reason she feels that it is an escape, a way out.

Solid wood grains run along Kats fingertips as she slowly pushes the door open. Peeking her head around, Kat sees a purple and blue night sky above her with sand dunes cast in purple shadow all around. Torches crackle with orange flames that light the entire area in its rich glow. A mast stands firm and proud at the front with wooden sides running along port and starboard. On the bridge is a steering wheel in front of a table atop which rests a golden scale.

And above all else, is a giant hippo smiling at her.

****

“You kissed her!”

Steven is yelling at Marc in the hallway of the brightly lit hallway of a psychiatric hospital. Marc wears a plain white long sleeve with a stupid tan uniform over it while Steven is wearing a soft blue jumper.

Finally separated from each other and owning separate bodies, Marc and Steven are finally able to actually see each other, touch each other. It's extremely weird, but it is also quite nice, especially now as Steven feels close to punching Marc’s stupid handsome face.

“She was crying! what was I supposed to do?” Marc yells back.

“Well not snogging my girlfriend would be a great start.” Steven scoffs, crossing his arms moodily and looking away from Marc .

“She's not even your girlfriend, Steven.” Marc refutes, crossing his own arms and definitely NOT pouting.

“She could have been,” Steven says quietly, scuffing his shoe against the shiny tiled floor, “if we hadn't died.”

Marc sighs, “Yeah, sorry about that.”

Steven gives a soft weak chuckle and buries his head in his hands as he groans.

He had woken up alone and in the dark, trapped in a large sarcophagus. All he could remember was watching as Marc and Kat fought together up until it all stopped and went dark. Immediately Steven began panicking and banging against the lid of the sarcophagus, desperate to escape and get some fresh air.

After escaping the doctors office, Marc had stumbled down the clinically lit hallways on a mission to find Kat. The hall shifted and moved around him, throwing him off his feet as he tried to make his way to the doors at the end of the hall. He was almost there when he had heard the banging and got Steven out of the sarcophagus.

The first thing the two did was embrace each other happily and wonder over their current separateness, the next was to immediately start bickering. And that is how they are how they are now.

“I finally got up the courage to kiss her and then you swoop in and take over.” Steven mumbles.

With a sigh, Marc says nothing and instead starts walking towards the door again with Steven trailing behind.

The ground rattles with a loud thump, and then another, and another. Something is coming towards them, just beyond the door. Marc grabs Steven and they hold onto each other, both shaking though neither would ever admit it, and wait warily to see what large beast is coming to them.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

A large shadow looms in the frosted window panes on the doors as something pauses just before them.

The doors fly open and Steven shrieks and cowers back while Marc jumps back with a loud squeal that echoes around them.

“Hi!”

A large hippo stands before them, her snout pulled back in a bright smile as her little ears flick excitedly and her eyes gleam happily. The hippo gives a small wave as she greets them. It's dressed in a simple dress decorated with golden cuffs along her wrists and thick plated necklaces, a round halo headdress on her braided black hair.

“Hippo!” Steven shouts, pumping his arms in the air as an excited bright smile takes over his face.

Marc stares wide-eyed at the hippo, wondering what the hell is happening, muttering to himself, “Wow, these meds are really amazing.”

The hippo stares at Marc warily, turning to Steven and asking, “Is he always so intense?”

“Who him?” Steven glances over at Marc who is staring with furrowed brows down at the tiled floor and shrugs, “Yeah, pretty much.”

The hippo nods seriously, her ears flicking as she looks between the two of them excitedly.

“So, are you two, like, twins?” She asks, small dark eyes flicking between the two men, bright with excitement.

“No,” Steven says immediately, pausing and correcting, “Well, yes, sort of.”

The hippo stares at him, sarcastically saying, “Okay great, that really cleared this whole situation up for me.”

“That makes two of us.” Marc mutters, frowning and eyeing the hippo distrustfully, “Just a second ago I thought I'd been shot to death.”

The hippos face becomes apologetic, its large hands worrying about, “Oh gosh! This will really bake your noodle, but I think you were just taking a time out.” The hippo explains, “I'm afraid you're actually quite dead.”

“I'm sorry, what?” Marc gapes, breathes coming quick as panic begins to descend in him, “I’m dead?” He looks to Steven who is much calmer, “We’re dead?”

“Yes.” The hippo says sadly, a sympathetic expression on her snouted face.

Marc turns to Steven for help but is met with Stevens uncharacteristic calmness, out of the two of them Marc had thought Steven would have been more freaked out at the revelation of being dead.

“Yes Marc, I think she's right,” Steven says slowly, stomach sinking, “I think we died.”

Marc’s shoulders drop as he comes to the conclusion that he truly is dead, and this is the afterlife? A mental hospital and an oversized hippo? So many questions brim in Marc's mind, too many to even ask.

As if hearing his thoughts, the hippos eyes light up and she begins to rummage through the pockets of her dress, telling them, “I actually have..hold on a sec, it's been a minute since we've had souls pass through here…excuse me….Ah! Here we go.”

She pulls out a loose stack of yellowed and aged paper note cards laid in a thick stack as she clears her throat and begins to read from the first card.

“Welcome, gentle traveller, er, travellers,” The hippo says, her voice becoming more sure, “to the realm of the duat.”

“Duat?” Steven interrupts, eyes lighting up as he's finally able to latch onto something he knows, “The Egyptian underworld..” His eyes grow as his gaze on the hippo becomes revenant, “This is Tarwet, goddess of women and children! And she's guiding us through our journey through the afterlife.”

Stevens brimming with excitement, he has so much he wants to know. The goddess Tarwet is standing in front of him and he can hardly believe it, sure he is scared out of his mind too, but more importantly he's standing in the thick of what he has studied for years. Kat would be so happy.

“Okay,” Marc says slowly, deciding to just accept this and go along with it, “so this is the afterlife?”

“An afterlife,” Tarwet corrects, “not THE afterlife. You'd be surprised by how many intersectional planes of untethered consciousness exist.”

Marc nods along like he knows what's going on. He wishes Kat were here to explain, or at least be just as confused along with him.

“Like the ancestral plane! Oh, just gorgeous.” Tarwet gushes, shaking her head and refocusing, “Anyways, I actually do have cards for all this if you’ll just wait..” Tarwet starts shuffling through the notecards and her large hands send them flying everywhere as she apologises and tries to pick them up.

After fruitlessly trying to gather and reorganize the cards, Tarwet gives up and tries to do it all from memory, or at least as much as she can.

“Right, so,” She begins hesitantly, trying to decide where to start as two identical faces wait and stare up at her, “Because the duats true nature is impossible for the human mind to comprehend, you may perceive this realm as something more easily recognizable to you,” She trails off as she looks at the building around them, “A psych wards a first for me, but we can roll with it!”

“Why would we imagine this realm to be a psych ward?” Steven asks, turning to Marc for an answer of something to explain the weirdness around them.

Marc sighs tiredly and looks around him, at the gleaming tiles, the pale blue walls, the bright clinical lights, before finally responding with defeat, “Because we’re insane.”

Steven goes to interrupt, to refute it, but Marc continues over him, voice rising as he gestures wildly at everything around them, “We’re insane. This talking hippo, talking dead bird, you're outside my body right now. And now the afterlife? Right.”

“But Marc,” Steven says pleadingly, stepping forward to look Marc in the eyes but Marc just turns away and continues rambling.

“Oh man, doctor Harrows right.” Marc mutters, hands going up to clutch in his curly hair and pulling until he can feel the pain against his scalp, “This is an organizing principle.”

“I'm sorry,” Tarwet interjects politely, large head cocked to the side as she gives a hopeful smile, “did you say you know someone named ‘Harrow’?”

Steven nods as he pulls at Marc's arm to get the man to calm down.

“Oh thank goodness,” Tarwet sighs with relief, “maybe you two can help me. There's a woman here who fainted when she met me, she mentioned a ‘Harrow’ too.”

This gets Marc and Stevens attention as the two men turn to Tarwet, giving her their full attention. Their hearts beat rapidly as they both hope that it is who they think, but on the other hand, if it is Kat, then that means she is dead as well.

“Kat?” Marc questions as Steven echos him, each uncertain on what to feel.

“Is that her name?” Tarwet asks happily, Marc and Steven nod, “Wonderful, then you two can help me!”

The goddess turns and leads the way through the swinging doors behind her. Marc and Steven share a worried glance before following after the large hippo. Pushing through the doors, Steven and Marc step onto a large rocking boat that surfs through the sand dune surrounding them, stars blanketing the sky above in a vast expanse of darkness. Fire lit lamps swing with each shift of the boat and orange glowing light sways with it.

“She's just there,” Tarwet says, pointing to a prone body that lays unmoving in front of the free standing steering wheel, “I wasn’t sure where else to put the poor dear.”

Marc can hardly hear above the blood rushing in his ears as he and Steven rush forward, dropping before the body and gasping as they recognize the shade of chestnut hair that gleams like fire in the light.

Steven brushes the hair from Kats face as Marc holds her hand in his and pulls it close to his chest. Their faces crumpling as Kats eyes remain closed and unresponsive.

“Why is she not waking up?” Marc asks Tarwet, fear and anger mixing in his heart and lacing his voice, “Why the hell is she not waking up!”

“Marc.” Steven warns, not feeling it would be great to just throw accusations out at a goddess.

Marc ignores Steven, instead tightening his grip on Kats hand and whispering desperately, “C’mon kitty Kat, wake up.”

“What happened?” Steven asks, glancing at Tarwet over his shoulder as the hippo watches sadly.

Tarwet shrugs helplessly, “She arrived here and fainted upon seeing me.”

“Should she be taking this long to wake up?” Steven asks, frowning down at Kats smooth and unbothered face.

Tarwet looks thoughtful, “I'm not sure… seemed very distressed so maybe that's making it take longer?”

Voices float around Kat, aimless if the dark fog enveloping her senses. She tries to focus her mind but it slips through her hands like water, never able to catch it for long enough to understand what's happening. Dizzy and scared, Kat tries to make a sound in this empty darkness.

“Steven,” Marc gasps as a pained grunt escapes Kats lips, “Steven, she's waking up.”

Nothing makes sense anymore, everything is too confusing. Light streams through her eyelids and Kat is suddenly aware of the smooth floorboards against her back and the way her whole back feels like it's been bruised, her joints stiff.

“Kat? Please wake up.” Steven whispers, brushing a strand of hair from her face as it twitches but her eyes remain closed.

The voices get closer and more clear as the light becomes too bright and demanding. Her lips feel dry and the taste of death lingers on her tongue as she swallows. She keeps her eyes tightly closed as memories resurface and she remembers exactly what had led to her current situation.

“I swear to god, if there is a giant hippo here when I open my eyes, I am dying again.” She croaks, voice dry and rough.

“Oh thank god.” Steven gasps, shoulders slumping as he releases a heavy breath and Marc echoes his relife.

“Steven?” Kat asks, voice small and hesitant as she cannot bring herself to open her eyes yet.

Steven nods, but realizing Kat can't see that, says, “Yeah, it's me love. Oh, uh Marc's here too.”

“Hey, kitty Kat.” Marc speaks, undeniably fond as he gives her hand a reassuring squeeze, a smile cracking his lips as he tells her, “Bad news, the hippo’s still here.”

Kat smiles and gives a light laugh as she slowly pries her eyes open and is met with Steven's worried face and Marc's face filled with relief.

She doesn't bother to question how or why the two of them are in separate bodies, she figures that humanoid hippos and being dead are weird enough that she doesn’t even care how anymore, just glad that they are there.

“Er, hello." Tarwet greets her, Kats eyes darting up to the giant hippo and widening comically as her face pales.

“Uh guys…the hippo is talking.”

“Yep.” Marc fights back the laughs that tug at his lips as Steven shrugs sheepishly.

Kat nods along, confusion creasing her brows as she sits up, groaning as her muscles ache, and blinks harshly against the light. Her heart hammers as she finally sees Marc and Steven clearly. Marc’s harsh lines of his face and the tension in his body next to the way Stevens face is soft and happy as his shoulders slope forward and into himself.

Without a second thought, Kat launches herself forward and pulls them both into a tight hug, breathing in the comforting scent of mint, old books, and the musk of cedarwood. Strong arms encircle her and Kat feels at home, relaxing into the embrace easily.

“Awwww,” Tarwet gushes, watching the three as she comically fans her hippo face, “this is just too cute!”

“I'm so glad you're both here,” Kat sighs in relief, vision blurring as tears well in her eyes, “I thought I'd lost you both forever.”

Kat pulls back, taking in Steven and Marc fully as Tarwet coos as she watches them.

“We’re here, kitty Kat,” Marc assures her, Steven nodding beside him and smiling reassuringly, “never gonna leave you.”

Kat gives a watery laugh and happily nods, stretching and standing up. Her eyes fall on Tarwet who stares at her curiously, feelings of guilt shining in her small eyes.

“Sorry for startling you.” Tarwet apologizes, a sheepish smile on her face.

Kat blinks before smiling and waving it away, “Don't worry about it. You're Tarwet right?”

Tarwets eyes light up and she nods and rushes forward to wrap Kat in a tight hug, bumping Steven and Marc out of the way as she does. The hug is tight and Kat struggles to breathe, but still at the same time, it reminds her of Bastets embrace and brings her comfort to have that connection again.

“Tarwet,” Kat begins hesitantly after the hippo sets her down again, fidgeting with her hands as she avoids the goddesses eyes, “If I’m dead, then what happens to Bastet?”

Tarwets whole demeanor softens, “Bastet said you were a sweet one. Well, to answer your question, she will be fine.” Tarwet hesitates before continuing, “Most likely, she will find another avatar.”

“Oh, I see.”

Kat cannot help but feel disappointed. She knows that Bastet would need to find another avatar in order to be able to continue to have an impact on the mortal world. But still, to know that she will be replaced, while understanding of it, hurts.

Kats arms hug herself tightly as she keeps a strained smile on her face and walks over to the constantly tilting golden scale and pretends to examine it. Marc watches her go, sharing a worried glance with Steven.

“Where did you say we’re going?” Marc asks Tarwet, eyes remaining trained on Kats tense figure before glancing at the large hippo beside them.

“We’re sailing to the Aaru.” Tarwet answers, gesturing to the soft orange light that rests where the dark sky meets the shadowed sands in the distance.

“To the field of reeds, right Tarwet?” Steven questions excitedly, passion growing as he stares in wonderment at the duat.

“Ah, so he's the smart one, ey?” Tarwet teases happily, her bubbly personality bright and surprisingly comforting in their situation.

Kat turns back around with a soft smile, uncrossing her arms as she walks over to Steven and Marc, her bare feet creating soft footsteps on the smooth wood. Her and Marc share a smile as they watch Steven bursting with pride.

“Yeah,” Kat says fondly, eyes lovingly tracing the edges of Steven's smiling lips and the crinkle of his eyes.

Marc huffs a chuckle as he watches Kats soft expression, slowly realising that he feels no ill will, no jealousy. Well, that's a lie, there's a bit of jealousy, but not the overwhelming kind that he had first experienced when trapped in the body. Maybe it's the way Kat leans lightly against him, her head resting on his shoulder, or it's the way he cares for Steven.

“What's going to happen now?” Marc asks Tarwet, catching the hippos' attention.

“Well, if your hearts balanced in life, then you will spend eternity in paradise.” The goddess explains, moving about the ship and setting up the scales.

“The field of reeds.” Steven supplies easily.

“But before we get there,” Tarwet continues, “I've just got to do a quick little…”

Tarwet trails off as she thrusts her hands into Steven and Marc's chest, rummaging around as Marc shouts and bats at her arm while Steven just stands there looking mildly uncomfortable. With a gasp, the goddess pulls her hands out, two blood-dried hearts, pure white and crystalline, in her large hands.

“Oh goody, it worked!” Tarwet exclaims, turning the hearts in her hand carefully, “Here was little old me worried I would blow your chests wide open.”

“What!?” Steven and Marc shout, eyes widening.

“You didn't know it would work!?” Kat asks incredulously, suddenly feeling faint again.

Target shrugs guiltily and putters over to the scales, setting both hearts on one side of the scale and a fluffy snowy white feather on the other side. The weights begin the tilt up and down, not stopping for even a moment as they steadily shift weights while Tarwet stares intensely at them.

“Wait, what's she doing?” Marc whispers to Kat, his breath brushing her ear and sending goosebumps down her arms.

“She's weighing your souls, the ka, against the feather of truth, maat,” Kat whispers back, pointing to the light feather on the other end of the scale, lowering her voice to a secretive whispers as if she were telling a scary story at midnight, “If the heart is heavier, you get fed to Ammut ‘the devourer’ and cast into darkness. Oooooh”

Marc rolls his eyes as Kat makes a ghost sound and wiggles her fingers at him teasingly, asking, “And what happens if they balance?”

“You're taken before Osiris,” Steven says, joining the conversation as his eyes stay warily trained on the shifting scales, “and welcomed to the afterlife, to the field of reeds.”

“Okay, and what's that?” Marc asks, amazed Kat and Steven even know this stuff as it all goes over his head.

“It's paradise,” Steven answers with a content, wistful smile.

Marc nods, not mentioning that he feels like a field full of reeds is less than paradise.

Kat looks over at Marc, chuckling as she realizes his thoughts, and notices what he's wearing for the first time. A beige shirt like one worn by patients at hospitals with a white long sleeve underneath. Tilting her head, Kat leans closer to examine the fabric closer.

“What are you wearing?” Kat asks, looking up at Marc who shifts nervously, sharing a secretive glance with Steven.

“Not sure, I just woke up like this.” Marc lies, voice rougher than normal and harsher as he refuses to look at Kat.

Kat steps back with a frown, worry creasing her brow before she shakes her head and dismisses it.

“So if we don't balance, we get thrown overboard?” Marc asks, quickly changing the subject.

“No unbalanced souls on my boat,” Tarwet agrees, “them's the rules. So, fingers crossed for you guys eh?”

“What about me?” Kat asks, teeth worrying her bottom lip as she looks out at the sand, “When will my soul be weighed?”

“Oh, after these two, don't worry, your turn will come.” Tarwet speaks reassuringly, unaware that her words just deepen the dark pit in Kats gut.

Kat already knows what her soul will reveal. She already knows she will be swallowed by the sands and left to the march of time. Her soul is covered in blood and death, her hands caked by it. Her soul will never match the feather of truth, no, it will weigh down the scales and sign her doom.

Kat is already dead, she knows she has nothing to fear anymore, but the extinction of her very being makes her nerves shake and her heart quicken. Would it be a never ending darkness after being swallowed by Ammut? Or would there be just nothing, no consciousness to even observe anything around her? These questions haunt her mind as she tries to put forward a confident exterior and just appreciate her time left.

“I don't care what the hippo says. There's no way we’re ending up down there.” Marc mutters with Steven and Kat huddled on each of his sides, “And we’re not going to the field of reeds either.”

“All right,” Steven agrees slowly, mouth twisting in a frown, “what are you proposing?”

“If it comes to it, kill the hippo, steal the boat. Ow!”

Marc glares at Kat and rubs at where she had just smacked him on the back of his head. She raises a brow back, daring him to say something.

“We are not killing Tarwet, Marc.” Kat crosses her arms and Steven nods his agreement.

Marc is about to respond, probably something moody that will make Kat roll her eyes, when Tarwets sweet voice interrupts them.

“Uh, guys?”

They turn to see Tarwet looking worriedly down at the scales, her snout in a deep frown. The scales glint in the firelight as they continue to shift back and forth with no indication of slowing down or stopping.

“Why’s it doing that?” Marc asks, walking closer to the scales, “Why is it moving like that?”

“I don't know,” Tarwet shakes her head helplessly, “I don't have a card for this.”

Kat bites her cheek to prevent herself from laughing, this is not the time, but a giant sad hippo moaning over the lack of cards to read off of is ridiculous. Instead, Kat stands beside Tarwet and examines the scale, trying to find any fault in it. She finds nothing but she's also not a goddess and has no idea how this realm even works.

“Oh.” Tarwet exclaims, picking up the crystal hearts and turning them in the light as she examines them, “It's the hearts, they aren't full.”

Kat leans over Tarwets arm curiously, trying to see what the goddess does. All Kat can see is two beautiful hearts and the men they come from.

“And trust me, I'm a half full kind of gal,” Tarwet continues, sending Kat a knowing wink, “but, it's like they each feel incomplete.”

Kat frowns and finds her expression mirrored on Steven and Marc's faces.

“What does that mean?” Marc asks, dark brows furrowing.

“Without balanced scales, the duat will eventually claim your soul.” Tarwet shrugs helplessly.

“Okay, how can we fill them?” Kat asks, her mind setting into its trained instinct of problem solving.

Tarwet thinks for a moment before her eyes light up, “This boat contains all of a life's memories.” The goddess turns to Marc and Steven, telling the two men, “Now, I don't know what you two guys have been hiding, but my advice, get in there and show each other the truth.”

Marc and Steven nod seriously, for once agreeing with each other.

“And you,” Tarwet continues, turning to Kat, “I suspect you have been hiding things from yourself.”

Kat opens her mouth to argue but thinks better of it and closes her mouth, settling on a miffed frown instead. Turning from the goddess, Kat walks over to join Steven and Marc against the side of the boat.

“Okay, how are we going to do this?” Marc asks, looking between Steven and Kat.

“You two go be honest with each other, I'll go back to where I first arrived.” Kat suggests, already dreading going back into that house.

“You want to split up?” Steven questions, worry painting his face.

Kat nods, giving an unconvincing smile as a pool of apprehension settles in her gut, “We need to. I'll meet you both back here, yeah?”

With a final hug to both, Kat closes her eyes and steps back through the doors that lead to her childhood home. Walking through the entryway, Kat is hit by the smell of whisky and blood. It fumegates every inch of air in the room and gives no release even when Kat opens a window to try and flush the smell out.

Nausea rolls in her stomach as Kat forces her eyes open and comes face to face with Claires tearful eyes and blood stained fingers. Looking down at herself, Kat sees that she's wearing a white dress that's been adorned with a bright red stain over the neckline. The pain comes all at once and Kat is aware of her cheek throbbing and the sting of tears soaking into the cut below her left eye, the crunch of her nose as Kats fingers trail over the shifted bridge.

“I'm so sorry, Katalya!” Claire cries, wanting to hug her sister but worried of hurting her, “It's my fault!”

Claire is thirteen in this memory, Kat doesn't remember this moment.

“What happened?” Kat feels the words come out of her mouth, despite her not meaning to say anything.

It's like being trapped in her own body. She is aware of herself but has no control over what she does. A prisoner in her own flesh and painted with her own blood that drips from her nose.

“I broke a glass,” Claire says slowly, not meeting Kats eyes as she nervously toes at the tiled floor of the kitchen, “and papa found it and asked who had broken it…” Claire's tears well up again as she chokes out, “I panicked! I didn't mean to say it, I'm so sorry Katalya!”

Ah. Now Kat remembers this.

Sighing, Kat feels her lips pull into a smile as her arms bring Claire into a tight hug, whispering to the young girl, “It's okay, I understand.”

“Really?” Claire sniffs.

“Really.”

Kats eyes close and she's somewhere new, no longer even in her home. The stench of trash invades her nose as her eyes try to adjust to the darkness of night. Bricks line the walls around her, blood spattering them. A small shift of a sneaker and the sound of sniffling brings Kats attention to the hunched figure of a teenager, a kid, huddled as far back against the wall as he can get.

‘Oh god. Oh no.’ Are the only thoughts playing on repeat in Kats mind as she feels her feet walking closer to the kid who tries to make himself even smaller, eyes wide and fearful. The weight of a blade in her hand, heavy and damning.

“Please,” The kid whimpers, tears falling down his young face, “Please don't kill me.”

Kat can’t stop her feet as they just keep marching forward.

‘Please, please, stop.’ Kat screams in her head, no noise coming from her mouth as she wrestles to find control.

The kid's whimpering suddenly stops as blood splats grossly across Kats face, coppery and dark as it drips down her face and into her clothes. Wiping it from her eyes, Kat sees the hole in the kid's forehead, the material of his brain lying inside, damaged beyond repair.

Kat feels herself turning as her face contorts into a dark rage upon seeing the man behind her, holding the still smoking pistol.

“What did you do?” Kat hears herself shout, voice trembling with emotion as the blood feels cold on her face.

“You weren't going to do it, so I did.” The man, Viper as he called himself, says snidely, “It's not my fault you failed to prevent this.”

“He was a kid!” Kat screams, her heart feeling like it's being torn apart in her chest.

“You were supposed to make sure he didn't find the blueprints, you failed.” The Viper sneers, “His bloods on your hands, bitch.”

Kat blinks and her vision is filled with red, consuming her in its fire and ravaging her mind and heart with rage.

When she's able to see again, the Vipers body lays motionless in front of her, limbs twisted unnaturally with a face forever frozen in terror.

Kat remembers what happened next. She remembers wrapping the kid's body in sheets and delivering it to the parents, disappearing before they could see her. She remembers watching the funeral from afar, weighed down by the knowledge that she had failed, that she had caused this. Kat remembers the rumors that would fly around about her, that she was the assassin without morals, that she kills kids and partners without care.

She can't take it anymore, and is relieved when her eyes close and dizziness overtakes her, taking her somewhere new. She can only hope that this new place is better than everything else, somewhere she can just rest. Kat is so tired.