To the onlookers, the guards, the startled maids, and his own sister, Nwadimma, he looked like a man possessed. His gaze was hollow, fixed on a horizon only he could see, searching for the shimmering outlines of souls that shouldn't be there.
That night, no one in the palace slept. They watched from the periphery as their ruler paced the stone corridors like a caged animal, his mind a whirlwind of insecurity and divine revelation.
As the first grey light of dawn touched the horizon, the week-long grace of Keles reached its end.
The transition was violent. One moment, the world was a vibrant, terrifying map of spiritual energy; the next, the "curtain" slammed shut. The brilliant glows and the twin-faced horrors vanished, replaced by the flat, mundane reality of stone walls and morning mist.
