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They were rowing in a boat. Or rather, he was. A paddle in hand, back facing Al-Haitham as he rows. The sky was pretty purple and the water a dark black. If Al-Haitham was more interested in the water, he’d see skeletons and hear moans of constant agony. But he wasn’t.
He was interested in the person occupying his… friend's body. “You’re alive,” The voice says without turning to Al-Haitham, “Why did you come to the world of the dead?”
Al-Haitham sighs and focuses his attention on the starry sky. It was warping in on itself and Al-Haitham knew he was closer to where he was, “It is the first time in these eons that I’ve been crossing the River Styx for an alive person.” He turns a bit and he only glances.
Just a glance is all it took for Al-Haitham to cough and look away. Cyno is beautiful. His cloak is the usually cloaked ears of a jackal, his hair is still as white as a sunbeam, and his eyes a lovely rosy red. He’s looking at the water as if it were the most interesting thing, his lips smiling and his eyes fond. Al-Haitham fiddled with his hand before stopping.
“I came to find this god…” Al-Haitham replies, “He took someone important from me.” He looks at Cyno. If only he had a mora, he’d play with it, “He has been possessed by the lord of the dead. He enjoys his vessel.” Enjoys a vision.
He notices a purple glow coming from those jackal ears. There he is. “I’m not going to solve this with violence,” His eyes start to harden, “I’m going with the deal route.”
Bandages with runes begin to surround Cyno and he grins. It was natural yet the most unnatural thing he could see. “What do you think? Anpu.”
It surrounds the left side and his red eye becomes black with a tinge of gold shadowing the outside of his eye. The boat was still rowing. “The feeble scholar who wants to trade with a god,” Its voice isn’t Cyno but it was raspy and hoarse as if it was thirsty and needed Al-Haitham’s soul to quench his thirst.
“What’s your chip?”
Al-Haitham finally stands and holds his hand out, hoping he touches it. And Anpu does. It’s repelled and what stands before him isn’t Anpu but Cyno. His eyes were closed but they were calm. His mouth was in a straight line but he was but when they opened, Al-Haitham could tell he was annoyed . “Haitham,” He says with a huff, “You’re crazy.”
Al-Haitham smiles, “So you say,” He notices that the paddle is dropped into the water, “Why are you here?”
Cyno lets his hand go free from his cloak and the bandages appear again only to get the paddle, “I only am here to fulfill my deal, Haitham–” He uses the paddle to turn around. To the entrance. Al-Haitham glares at him, “--I suggest you leave.”
“What? N–”
A paddle connects to Al-Haitham’s head and before he loses consciousness, he is grabbed by the end of his cloak and laid down gently on the wooden boat. “I’m sorry, my lotus,” A gentle voice hits his ear and gives him a peck, “But I must stay. Goodbye.”