Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There he stood on the precipice of the abyss and himself. Long had he spent trapped in a void of endless white and rattling chains. To see the night sky- brilliant and dazzling with stars and galaxies swirling like a brushstroke on canvas. It was so liberating, yet at the same time he felt as weak and pathetic as he had ever been.

It had been three whole months since he had been freed from his prison- yet stripped of his godhood. Three months living among loud, annoying, and worthless mortals. Three months trapped in a new prison- only this one was made of flesh and fur rather than chain and void. 

Narinder often came to this spot. It was a cliffside situated far enough from the cult to grant privacy, but not too far that he would get lost and never find his way back. He sometimes wondered if that would be better than living with the heathens of his former vessel’s flock. Then he remembered how much he struggled to do mundane tasks without the help of said vessel. It was a fruitless idea, much like the others he had. Utterly useless he had become.

He heard someone sigh nearby, but it was only his own. He sometimes couldn’t even control his voice. Pathetic. Such is a fitting fate, he supposed. The god who wanted everything got nothing. Nothing at all.

He looked back up at the endless horizon. At the very least, he could see the sky again. He could feel the earth again. It was better than nothing.

The sound of footsteps behind him told him he definitely wasn’t alone now. Had it been a few months ago, he would’ve turned towards the pursuer with a snarl and dagger. Now he simply knew exactly who it was who would find him. They always managed to somehow.

“Lamb.” Narinder muttered. The ringing of a bell as the person approached only confirmed what he had already thought.

“Nari, are you forgetting to sleep again?”

The Lamb; Lambert as he was actually called, always wanted to baby him. It was baffling to Narinder. The very traitor who usurped his power and refused to even finish the job was babying him like any other follower. It was humiliating.

Yet he couldn’t bring himself to be angry.

Well, not as angry. He felt many things towards his former vessel now. Anger. Betrayal. Fear. Familiarity. Companionship. Warmth. It made little sense to him- how he could hate and respect someone at the same time. To call Lambert a friend wouldn’t be a lie to Narinder- but to call him his leader would never be true.

“Of course not, insolent lamb.” The old god huffed, still training his gaze on the sky ahead of him. “I simply wanted some privacy- privacy you are ruining.”

He could hear the lamb chuckle at that. It angered him, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak out at it. “Aww, you really can’t stand being around me?” Lambert whined. The tone he said it with made it obvious he was teasing. Only typical for him.

“Though I really, really hate to admit it.” Narinder sighed, “I do not mind your presence. It is the others that grate on me.”

He could hear the lamb hum at that. “You still not getting along with anyone? They’re not that bad, you know.”

Narinder scoffed. “Please. They are beneath us- not worth the time.”

“Us?” Lamb repeated.

Narinder turned to look at him finally. Shockingly, the Lamb was without his fleece for once. Despite the red crown still placed firmly on his head, the lack of his signature clothes made him seem more vulnerable. More open.

“You are a god, foolish lamb.” Narinder scoffed. “I am immortal- we are both beyond them. Whatever meaningful bond I could forge would be buried six feet under.”

The lamb walked beside him and sat on the cliff. “Baw, I didn’t mean like that.”

This confused Narinder. Lambert patted the spot next to him, and the old god begrudgingly sat beside him. He waited for them to explain.

“You are right- they’re not immortal like us. I like to think of them as flames” Lambert said.

Narinder raised a brow. “Flames?”

“Yeah like, little flames that burn until they go out. The life of a flame and a follower is fleeting but beautiful.” The lamb continued. “You watch the fire light and begin to burn stronger and brighter. You watch it become a roaring, billowing flame; and then you watch it snuff out.”

Narinder hummed. Quite a colorful metaphor he supposed, and not one he necessarily could disagree with. 

“Another thing I hate to admit- you certainly know life and death well. Well enough to be the god of it, that is.” He said.

Lambert gave him a shit eating grin. “Aww, Nari complimenting me for once?”

“Don’t push it.” The cat growled.

Another chuckle. “But yeah, I think it’s fun to watch that fire and help it grow. It’ll always fade eventually but you can always remember the sparks and beauty it once had.”

“Fair enough.” Narinder admitted, though it gave him another question. “What of us then?”

“Hmm?” 

Narinder glanced at him. He could see their wool illuminated by the moonlight into shades of pale blue and teal. “You and I. If they are flames then what are we?”

Lambert looked out towards the sky. Narinder could tell this question had perplexed the new god. He scratched his head for a while before his face lit in recognition. It was endearing almost. Almost.

“Stars. We’re stars.” Lambert said.

Narinder fixated his eyes onto the twinkling stars in front of them. They burned bright and powerful in the sky. A beacon for those in the dark and a guide leading them to their final destination. They were beautiful and powerful. Ethereal almost.

The old god couldn’t help but give the faintest of laughs. “

“Yes, I think I could do with being a star.”

They two remained there in silence on the cliffside. Narinder enjoyed this, he had to admit. Without the quips and lectures, the lamb’s presence was enjoyable. They were smart and charming in many ways. It was no wonder they ran the cult so well. Part of him was almost proud of his successor. 

He didn’t want to give those thoughts much time to simmer. He wanted to forget he thought them at all, honestly. He’d simply have to settle being a star with them. At least for a little longer.

Chapter Text

The following day was tiresome- as was much of his new life. Lambert was lenient with him to an extent. It was likely because of how much he had to learn about mortal life and his former status. It felt like pity, but at this point Narinder didn’t care. He still had pride but he’d be lying if he said doing as much work as the others was what his sad, pathetic body needed.

Still, he did need to work. At first it had enraged him- the damn traitor was going to give him orders. Force him to work for a cult that was founded in his name. The anger had been quickly replaced with confusion, though, as the lamb told him right then and there he could leave. Go off in the woods and figure things out for himself.

For some reason, he stuck around. Perhaps it was because he was vulnerable in his new body. Perhaps it was because he didn’t want to potentially use up what little of his power he had left to fight through the wilderness. Perhaps he just didn’t want to be alone when everyone around him died. Whatever the case, he remained.

His first tasks had been simple. Organize bushels of crops. Clean the statue and fountain. Slowly, they began to get more varied and difficult. Chop wood. Mine stone. He couldn’t do as much as the others due to his condition, but he still attempted. Today was no different.

He swung the axe into the body of a mighty oak. It sunk its blade into the bark and refused to budge when he tried to pull it out. Narinder sighed as he pulled and pulled until his muscles ached. His body was so pathetically useless physically. Part of that was due to his unease in a mortal form, but much of it was due to his atrophy in the void. He still felt phantom pains sometimes on his wrists and chest from those damn shackles. 

Growing irritated as the axe refused to budge he felt a burning anger bubble in the pit of his stomach. Suddenly he felt the warmth of fire all around him. Before he really realized what was happening the tree was a pile of smoking embers. He took a step back and flexed his hands slowly.

The jingling of a bell made him turn around. The lamb had a look of slight shock on his face as he looked at the tree. Narinder too, couldn’t help but be shocked at exactly what had just happened.

“I was going to come help you but uh, I think you got it?” Lambert muttered. His hands were hidden within his fleece as they usually were, but Narinder had a feeling they were fidgeting.

Narinder huffed. “My powers are…slowly returning.” 

Lambert nodded. “I can certainly see that. That’s good though. Maybe. At least I don’t have to worry about you getting hurt.”

The old god rolled his eyes. “I can handle myself fine, stupid lamb.” He glanced towards the crown on top of Lambert's head. “Besides, shouldn’t my powers returning concern you?”

The lamb shook his head. “I beat you with all your powers, silly. I can definitely beat you now.”

Narinder hissed. “Very considerate to remind me. You would’ve lost had I still worn the crown.”

“Mmm but you didn’t. So I won fair and square.” Lambert pointed out.

Narinder glared at him. “How is that fair?! It's literally MY crown!”

“You gave it to me. Can’t ask for a gift back, Nari. It’s rude.” Lambert said with a giggle.

“I’m the fucking God of Death! I don’t care what’s rude!” Narinder growled.

Their bickering stopped when the sound of a wooden staff on dirt grew close to them. They turned to see a familiar face looking at them both. Well, with their one still working eye that is.

“You two argue like a married couple.” Ratau sighed. His voice was deep and thickly accented. “It was amusing at first, but it gets old.”

Both Narinder and Lamb scowled in indignation and embarrassment.

“Silence, old worm!” Narinder barked

“N-no, I was just messing with him!” Lambert yelled.

The staff stomped against the ground. “Then learn to get along! Married folks never can, so it’d help tell the difference.” He laughed at his own joke.

Narinder glared at the rat in front of him. “Why are you even here, old man?”

“Son, I’m only forty and you were a god. I think the only old man here is you, so pipe down!” Ratau retorted.

With a flick of his tail, Narinder took a step towards Ratau. Before he could go further Lamb held an arm in front of him. “Hey! No fighting Ratau, and no taunting Narinder either.”

“Of all the people to say…” Narinder began, but he was silenced by a jab to the ribs. Lambert glared at him and he was forced to shut his mouth. 

“Hmmph, fair enough.” Ratau hummed. “I came here to ask a favor of you Lambert.”

Lambert raised a brow. “Oh, what’s wrong? Did someone scam you in knucklebones again?”

Ratau shook his head. His thin, scarred tail wrapped around his staff. “No son, this is much more serious. A certain…person is after me again.”

Narinder spoke up. “Don’t tell me it’s that damn fox demon again. He constantly stalked you when you wore my crown.”

“Was he around that long?” Lambert asked. “I remember talking to him a few times, but I never knew he was after Ratau.

Ratau grunted. “Aye, he’s after me. I don’t honestly know what else he wants, but he’s started trailing again.”

“So he wasn’t after the crown, then.” Narinder said. “That’s odd. I assumed that was why he wanted you so bad, but perhaps he was just hungry.”

Another jab to the ribs. “Fine! That was too far, sorry!”

Ratau sighed. “I don’t even blame you for thinking so. I have a past with him, but nothing left unresolved. There’s no telling what he wants now.”

“Don’t worry Ratau, I’ll take care of him.” Lambert assured. “If you know where he is I’ll take care of him even now.”

It was Narinder’s turn to jab Lambert. “Foolish lamb! You really think a demon is so easy to kill?”

“I mean I beat you, so surely a demon isn’t- wait he’s an actual demon?” Lambert asked.

Narinder sighed. “Demons come in many shapes and forms. None of them are very pleasant.” 

“How did you get mixed up with a demon, Ratau?” Lambert questioned. Ratau’s eyes narrowed and he seemed to look off somewhere in the distance for a moment. After a brief pause he spoke up once again. “Nothing to worry about much son, just the same kind of stuff you get into. You forget I used to be a cult leader like yourself.”

He continued speaking. Narinder could notice his thin tail begin to unravel from the staff as he relaxed. “I’m not sure where he is right now. I just got the same chill I used to get whenever he chased me before.”

“Well alright.  Don’t worry. If he gives you any trouble let me know and I’ll take care of it.” Lambert said proudly.

The two began to talk a little more idly afterwards, which was getting boring for Narinder. The ashen cat walked over to the smoldering tree and weighed the axe in his hands. He brushed off a bit of soot and looked over to the lamb. A thought traced his mind and he decided it was the best way to get a point across.

Without warning he flung the axe towards Lambert. In a flash the red crown formed into a blade and tore through his pitiful axe with ease. Lambert looked at him with shock as Ratau simply closed his eyes.

“Did that feel dirty? Good. That’s how demons play, Lamb.” Narinder informed, striding back over to the two. “I know how you work. I observed you through the crown for a long time. Your reckless attitude will have you gutted against someone like him.”

Lambert sized Narinder up and down for a moment. His eyes moved in such a way that Narinder could tell what he said was processed. The brief expression was gone in an instant though, as Lambert grinned at him. “Aww, you’re worried about me Nari?”

The old god literally couldn’t help but growl at the taunting. “You’re insufferable.”

---------------------

It was night again, and Narinder couldn’t stop his mind from wandering. Ratau and Lambert had talked for a while more before they parted ways. Along the way back it had been hard to pay attention to what Lambert was trying to converse with him. Thoughts in his mind kept playing of Lambert meeting some terrible demise against that fox. 

It was stupid. Why did he care so much? Lambert was his only friend now, but he still could barely stand his presence sometimes. Why would he care if they died? Just another person he’d soon forget like anyone else he met. 

Maybe he was afraid of forgetting their face.

He gazed listlessly outside the window of his shelter. As a general rule of the cult, those who had been there the longest and served most faithfully were awarded the best shelters. These typically were quaint one room bungalows which helped members store possessions and sleep much soundly.

As one could imagine, the cult didn’t take it well when Narinder was given one a month ago. He was grumpy, didn’t work as much and hadn’t been around very long either. Regardless, Lambert didn’t necessarily hide his favoritism. Perhaps he didn’t need to as any dissenters knew it would be a fruitless effort.

Narinder’s home was small and simple. A far cry from the temples and palaces he had in his youth, but a welcome retreat from his prison of old. Much of what very little he now owned he took pride and care in. He was still a god at heart, after all. A few of these knick-knacks littered his home. Books were among his most prized possessions and one of his few personal pastimes. Reading the stories mortals could come up with was compelling he had to admit. They didn’t hold a candle to the books and legends of the old kingdom, but they suffice for now. He found it particularly amusing how little of the past mortals really got correct in a lot of these books. He had lived the truth of  it himself, even if it were now just a far memory.

Narinder had just picked a book off his shelf to lay down in bed with when he heard a knock at the door. After having to restrain himself from tearing his bedsheets in frustration with his claws, he threw the book onto the bed and went for the door. He knew it was either the lamb or a brainless follower asking him something stupid. In either case, he was going to tell them to fuck off.

That was until he opened the door. Of course, Lambert was there and an instinctive part of him was ready to tell him off. He took a look at the lamb’s face, though, and any desire to lash out faded away. His pupils were dilated and bags sunk into his eyes. Even his posture was shivering a little as he approached the door frame.

“H-hey Nari. Can I uh…talk to you for a bit?”

Narinder squinted his eyes trying to understand what exactly was wrong. “Why are you shivering like a newborn lamb?” He asked. Though he withheld his initial anger, subtlety was never his strong suit.

Lambert sighed. “I…I had a bad dream. A really bad one. I just need to get my mind off it for a bit.”

Narinder contemplated this for a moment. He really didn’t want to talk to Lambert- he just wanted to sleep. Still, this was by far the most exhausted and afraid he’d seen them in…honestly forever. When they were brought to his prison from the gallows their fear had become shock and soon after unhinged excitement. Ever since they bore the crown, they had been a beacon of power and charisma.

It was odd to see them like this. Somewhat disturbing even.

“Make it quick.” Narinder huffed, stepping aside to let the lamb in.

Lambert stepped inside and gripped his hands against his arms. He managed to stop himself from shaking after he took a few breaths. He wasn’t wearing his fleece, which meant he had probably rushed here right after the nightmare. Narinder could see the long, jagged scar around his entire neck. A permanent memento of the lamb’s first and last true death.

“Thanks…” Lambert said, slowly composing themselves. They still looked utterly exhausted, but it was a step better. He sat down on the floor with his legs crossed and his arms tucked in. “Um, I’m not sure what to talk about. Anything to just get my mind off this.”

Narinder flicked his tail. “I am curious as to what scared you so, but I will honor this. He plopped down on the floor with his arms and legs sprawled out. He looked at his friend and took a moment to think of something that they could talk about. Eventually he decided he could perhaps be a little more personal. Just to help them feel better.

“Do you mind if I talk about my siblings?” Narinder asked.

Lambert’s eyes widened. “T-the bishops? Um…no, I’m sorry.”

Narinder blinked. “Your nightmare was about them, wasn’t it?”

Lambert rubbed the back of his neck. His hand disappeared within his matted wool. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I just…had a dream about my family.”

Immediately Narinder knew what was wrong. His siblings; in their utter stupidity, decided the best way to prevent his revival was to kill off every lamb. It was foolish, brutish and cruel. Even he, the god of death, found the slaughter to be senseless. He supposed it was his fault it even happened in the first place, though. If he had never grasped for that further reaches of power then maybe the Lambs wouldn’t have been killed. 

Guilt was a feeling he wasn’t all quite used to yet.

“I understand.” Narinder said. He was about to say that they could switch the subject, but Lambert spoke up.

“Actually…can you tell me about them?” They asked.

Narinder looked at them skeptically. “Are you sure? You wanted to get your mind off this, not back on it.”

Lambert nodded. “Yeah but if I knew who they were, maybe I could humanize them. I don’t know.”

The word ‘were’ elicited a feeling that Narinder didn’t want to think about. “Those heretics are not worth humanizing. Hardly deserve it.”

A moment of silence.

“Shamura was the eldest.” It came naturally to him. Speaking of his siblings. “They were remarkably wise and guided all of us to our positions of power. The Age of Crowns was brutal, but they had led us through to the end.”

“Age of Crowns?” Lambert said. “What was that?”

“A longer story. One I can tell you later.” Narinder replied, “After Shamura was Heket. A strong woman and fearless leader. She commanded people and spoke in such a way that simply demanded authority. Of course, she never dared to overstep Shamura.”

Lambert hummed as Narinder spoke. His arm was propped on his leg and his head now rested in his hand. 

“Kallamar was a coward, but astute. They were aware of everything at all times and could hear even the drop of a needle. That’s where much of their fear came from, I suppose.” Narinder explained, “Knowing the whispers of dissenters in the dark, but being unable to truly stop their plots.”

“Leshy was the youngest.” Narinder continued, “A god of chaos and disorder. Though Shamura was known for their visions, Leshy’s eyes saw the world in another way. He could see the foundations of anything around him and would know exactly what piece to push to make it tumble down.”

Lambert nodded along. He looked at him with expectant eyes, and Narinder looked down at his hands. He let out a deep sigh. “I was Narinder. Second youngest of the bishops.”

Another pause.

“The others were kind. They were my family at one time…” Narinder felt his throat getting dry, but he continued to speak. “Shamura was a parental figure to me. They knew exactly how to overcome any obstacle, and without them I’d have surely perished.”

Another pause.

“They were the first to notice my impatience.” He said, words slipping a little. Syllables getting crossed and squeaked. “Death waits as a shadow among all mortals, but the build up of its power takes time. I hated waiting.”

Lambert looked at him with pity. He didn’t need his pity. He looked away. “Shamura was the one to tell me how to get stronger. Maybe they felt bad for me. In the end, it was what doomed us all.”

Lambert sat up. “Do you miss them?” He asked. Indeed, the conversation seemed to have helped ease their nerves at the cost of Narinder’s. He took a few deep breaths before sitting up himself.

“I don’t know.” He answered honestly.

Lambert hummed in understanding. “Thank you for sharing that with me.” He said. The two made eye contact- Crimson eyes meeting crimson eyes.

“Assure me seconds at dinner tomorrow if you are grateful.” Narinder said.

Lambert chuckled a little. At least that had helped somewhat. “Goodnight, Nari. I appreciate that you could…be open with me.”

Narinder turned his head to the side and crossed his arms. “Only to get you out of my house.”

Lambert rolled his eyes, now seeming fully composed and back to his usual self. He walked past Narinder and stepped into the door frame. He turned his head back; the moonlight illuminated his wool with a striking blue glow. “I miss my family too. Another thing we have in common, I guess.” 

And with that, they left.

Narinder stared after them as they walked off. His eyes narrowed and he shut the door.