Chapter Text
Narinder sizes up the lamb kneeling on the stone dais before him. Small, tunic bloodied, limbs bruised and battered. The head upon their shoulders staring wide eyed up at him. One hand on their throat where blood still trickles from their recent decapitation. Their expression is...not exactly fearful. Suspicious perhaps, but he sees anger bubbling under the surface of those dark brown eyes.
Good.
He feels the tension building up in his bones, the metal manacles cutting into his raw wrists. The ones encasing his body pulling tight around him as he strains. This is what he's been waiting for. Hope, for the first time in a thousand years, blooms in his chest.
"Fear not little lamb," They flinch at the sound of his voice, loud in the otherwise silent gateway, "For though you are already dead, I still have need of you."
Their brow creases, a frown pulling at their lips. "I-I-" They break down into coughs, shaking their head. They fall to their knees, blood spewing from their lips. He stares, eyes raking over their hunched form. They settle after a moment drawing in a few ragged breaths.
"I will give you life again," Narinder holds up a finger, "But at a cost. For all I ask is that you start a cult in my name. Do we have a deal?"
The lamb flounders for words, eyes flitting between himself and Aym and Baal at his side. "I... don't... under... stand." Their voice weak and raspy, words gasping out of their severed throat.
Narinder tilts his head, eyes narrowing behind his veil, "You seek revenge, do you not?" He gestures to their still bleeding neck, "On those who murdered you? Burned your village, tore babes from their mothers, slaughtered your people?" With each word he could see the lamb's eyes hardening. "The very thing the bishops wished to prevent they made happen, all that death and for what? For you to end up before me regardless. Become my vessel, gather followers, harvest their devotion to strengthen yourself and exact revenge on my siblings."
The red crown floats down from his head and into the lamb's trembling blood-stained hands, the cuts and bruises fade from their arms, their eyes widen and they look up at him with such fervor it makes him loose a grin.
"I will lend you my crown, my power, with it you can crush the bishops and their allies into dust. So, do we have deal?"
The lamb grips the crown tight and startles as it pools and reforms atop their head, wounds healing, their neck stitching itself up. The lamb takes in a deep, clear breath. They stand and with a fire in their eyes answer.
"Absolutely."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He watches as his new vessel rips through the cultists with an unexpected, but welcome, savagery. He feels giddy, a laugh bubbling up from his chest. The boys look up at him from where they'd settled together after the lamb had gone.
"This is the one," He says to them, "This one will finally set us free. Finally."
He ceases his watch over his new vessel when Ratau appears before them. He was a terrible vessel but remains a loyal follower, the lamb will be in good hands with him as a guide. The boys rise and come over to him, their eyes are wide. Baal places a hand on his arm and says, "Master why do do you weep? Is this not what you have been waiting for?"
It's only then he realises he is crying.
He lets out a wet laugh, "Worry not, kits, for these are tears of joy. That of which I have not felt since you two arrived here and even longer before then." He reaches down and embraces them best he can. They crowd into him, one on either side, clinging to his cloak.
"I cannot wait to show you two the world."
~~~~~~~~~
Not unexpectedly, the lamb ends up back in the gateway shorty after the start of their first crusade. They look surprised.
"Death is of little consequence. Rise once more, vessel of mine. It matters not how many times you are struck down. The Cult shall continue to grow." With a wave of his hand the lamb's injuries begin to mend.
"I cannot die?" They sound reverent, eyes darting from him to the their closing wounds.
Narinder inclines his head, "You can die, but so long as you remain devoted and spread my doctrine I will not let death keep you. You will return each time anew, wounds healed so as to not impede your progress."
They raise a hand to feel the strap at their neck, covering the scar of their decapitation. "Then..." They trail off, eyebrows furrowing. He beckons them closer, they hesitate, just a moment. They throw a glance at Aym and Baal, steadfast beside him, before stepping off the dais and approaching.
Narinder reaches down a hand. One boney finger lifting their chin, another pulling down the strap slightly. A few shades darker than the rest of their skin was the raised, gnarled scar encircling their neck. "Wounds created by a god or in sacrifice to one can only be healed so much." He traces the scar with his thumb, feeling the lamb shiver "This scar will remain until your permanent end."
The lambs lets out a shaky breath, eyes never leaving the veil that covers his face. Narinder feels them swallow before they say, "The other bishops..." Narinder's ears flatten and he withdraws his hand. They look momentarily bereft but continue on, "They have injuries that still bleed."
"As well they should." He growls out, the lamb flinches at his tone.
They glance away from him and after a moment's hesitation say, "Ratau said they trapped you here, that killing them will set you free. This revenge... it's for me as well as you?"
"They betrayed me and left me to rot." He snarls, rattling the chains, manacles cutting into wrists, black ichor trickling down his skeletal arms, "Each of the four chains that bind me are guarded by one of the Bishops. Destroy the Bishops and you break the chain. Break all four and I will be freed." He looks around at the vast space, "Freed at last from this endless, unchanging, eternal hell."
The Lamb's eyes are sad when he looks back at them. They quietly ask, "Why? Why would they do that?"
He drops his arms, shoulders sagging. The question leaves him unmoored, though he expected it.
"Why indeed..." He mumbles. He sees his kits glance worryingly up at him. He raises his hand, palm upwards. The dais glows a brilliant red, "Begone now, vessel, you have a task to complete."
~~~~~~~~~~~~
He watched them fight wave after wave of heretics to rescue a young horse from sacrifice. Combat experience, growing the cult, and depriving his traitor brother of power all in one. This would be their sixth follower. It had only been a couple of weeks but they were turning out to be a very skilled leader, if a bit unorthodox.
They loved to run errands for their followers and spent more time than necessary just... talking to them. When instead they could be making their way to Leshy. The cult's faith was strong though, devotion pouring out it's few followers in droves as if they were twenty instead of five. The lamb preached his doctrine with such vigor and life that the new followers were truly firm believers after just a single sermon no matter the circumstance of their arrival. He was impressed.
A defeated mewling coming from the twins caught his attention. They've been roughhousing more often, the prospect of freedom making them antsy. Aym lay atop his brother as Baal scrambled to get out from under him. Narinder plucked him up by his scruff. He huffed and crossed his arms.
"Master," Baal called out, getting to his feet, "Will it be much longer until the vessel frees us?"
He saw through the crown's eye as though it were his own, they could not share the sight of the living world with him, not just yet.
"Soon, my kits," He lowered Aym down next to Baal who stuck his tongue out at him. Aym glowered. He placed his hands on their shoulders, "The lamb has yet to fell the first bishop but they and the cult grow stronger each day. We will all be feeling the sun warm our fur and the soft grass on our paws in no time at all."
They all turn as the dais lights up and deposits the lamb, there is a singular stab wound at the base of their skull.
They looked up at them with a sheepish grin, "That cultist got the jump on me?" They said it as a question as if that is not exactly what happened.
Narinder sighs and drops his hand from the twins' shoulders, "And how is that, vessel?"
They produce a small bouquet of camellias from their fleece. Narinder blinks. The twins gasp.
"I-I wanted to bring you guys something," They say, rubbing the back of their head where the wound is stitching itself back up. "Thought it might... I don't know, liven the place up a bit."
Narinder felt a smile tug at his lips, the lamb did not notice but his kits did, if the slight twitch of their tails was anything to go by. Glancing at them showed their eyes fixed on the flowers.
He opens his hand facing up, at a gesture, the twins do the same. The lamb lets out a happy bleat, Narinder's ears perking at the wholly unexpected sound, and they trot over depositing a couple flowers in each of their awaiting palms. He could see the boys vibrating with restraint.
"Be off you two," They look up at him, pupils wide in excitement, then pounce a little ways away together to admire their camellias.
The lamb watches them with raised eyebrows, "They act as though they've never seen flowers before."
"They haven't," Narinder raises up the flowers in his hand to admire them. He hasn't seen them in a long while either, "They were but babes when they appeared on the dais, mewling and helpless. Eyes must not have been open but a day or so." Some leaves had drops of blood on them from when the lamb had been cut down.
"I appreciate the offering, vessel. But do not let frivolous tasks distract you from your true purpose." He wipes at the blood with his thumb, smearing it across the leaf.
"Of course not, I just thought..." They pause, looking down.
"Ratau told me of how he failed you," they continued quietly, "I don't know if he regrets it exactly but he does worship and respect you still, I guess... I just wanted to show you that I will not fail. I will get you out of here." They look back up at him with determination in their eyes, "I will kill the bishops. I will get vengeance. For the both of us."
They point up at the flower, "Think of it as a token of good faith. That that is not the last you will see of the living world."
Narinder cannot help the low pleased rumble that tumbles out from his chest. He gazes down at them, blinking slow. Their own eyes widening at the sound and darting across the veil as if trying to find a weak spot in the material.
The twins make a sound of dismay, startling them both. Looking over, it seemed as though they had torn some petals form a flower. As much as Narinder would like the lamb to stay on task, he is glad that they did this for them.
"I'm sure you've told them loads about the living world already," The lamb says, "But I could tell them what it's like now, what they'll be coming home to?"
Narinder turns back to them, they're watching the boys with a small smile playing at their lips. Softy he says, "I think they would like that."
The lamb walks over and settles by them. They they listen with rapt attention as the lamb begins speaking.
Narinder tucks the flower into is robes and watches his vessel and his kits.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
The lamb successfully finishes two crusades before ending up back in the gateway. They are littered with puncture wounds.
"There were so. Many. Bats." They say, watching as the holes start to close. The twins snicker from where they stand a bit aways from the god death and his vessel. He no longer required them to be at attention when the lamb arrived. The lamb shoots them a glare and the snickering gets louder.
Narinder smiles, its been a while since he's heard them laugh.
"Fret not," He addresses the lamb, snapping their attention back up to him, "Each death serves as a learning experience, vessel. You are doing well. You have already killed two of Leshy's most devout."
Their expression sours, "Yeah and now they're followers in the cult."
"You must use everything to your advantage, Lamb, once you have amassed a proper following you will be able to be more particular in who you let remain follower and who you do not." Narinder's eyes dart over the lamb as they sigh and rub at their face, they seem tired.
"I understand, I just don't trust them." They shake their head as they say it. There are dark circles under their eyes, Narinder wonders if they've been resting at all or if the stress of their task is finally weighing on them.
"As well you shouldn't." The Lamb raises their eyebrows at that, "Amdusias and Valefar are my some of my brother's closest acolytes. While he still lives there is nothing stopping them from turning against you, and spreading dissent throughout what little cult you've built up so far."
They groan, "They're always together, I know it's probably because they're familiar with each other, but I still don't like it."
"Let me grant you this," He reaches down, touching his middle finger to their forehead. They stiffen, eyes shining red, and black ichor dripping down their cheeks. He releases them after a moment and they fall to their knees.
"W-what did you do?" They panted, blinking blackness out of their eyes.
"The power to read the minds of my feeble little followers. Worry no longer about secret plots, for they will be known to you. If discovered, a few days in the stocks and some re-education should suffice before anything gets too out of hand."
They stare at him then, silent and unblinking. A low rumble of laughter tumbles out of him.
"Nice try, vessel," He reaches down at taps the top of their head, "You will have no luck using that on me here." He ushers them towards the dais.
"Worth a try." They say, bowing to him with a flourish, arms spread, and a wide smile gracing their lips, before being whisked away back to the cult.
He stares at the dais a long while after they've gone.
~~~~~~~~~~
They just killed Leshy.
His little brother. Who always pestered him to play. Who always looked up to him with bright eyes and an even brighter imagination. Who used to pop up from underground and scare the daylights out of him. Who used to love to just lay and listen to the sound of the forest with him...
He had watched as they battled him. Swift with their attacks and dodging his with ease, as if they were born to it. His war cries becoming more and more desperate as the lamb landed strike after strike on him, cleaving away flesh and leaf alike. The final blow came as their axe split his skull when he tried to crush them. He went still and their axe transformed into a dagger. They cut his still beating heart from his battered body.
The body of his brother. Who had looked upon him with derision as he struggled against the chains they had sprung on him. The God of Chaos chastising him for going too far above his station. Who he had savagely and gladly clawed the eyes from as he wailed in agony.
The first bishop dead, the first chain broken. He was well and truly on his way to freedom.
He summoned them to his domain. They stood on the dais, blood and brains coated them in red, but not a drop of their own. Their eyes blazing bright. They looked ethereal.
"Leshy fell before you like a grain of sand before a tidal wave." The God of Death said to his Vessel, "And without a scratch on you," Their eyelids flutter as he swipes his thumb across their cheek, wiping away some of the ichor, "Impressive."
They beam up at him, "It was exhilarating. I can't believe I actually killed a god. For all his talk of me being weak and cowardly and foolish, he went down easy. It wasn't much of a battle." They sounded breathless.
"Your victory here is commendable, you have done what many could not." He grabs their hand between his thumb and forefinger their grip is tight and trembling, "I will happily watch the rest of my siblings fall to your bloodied hands."
They hummed happily. "Oh," with a start, they slip their small hand from his and produce from their fleece Leshy's heart, still dripping, staining the ground at their feet, "I wasn't sure if you'd want it but it somehow felt...appropriate? To take this from him after all he's taken from us."
Narinder took in the sight. His vessel, a lamb, stained with the blood of a god, offering up the heart they tore out of his chest.
He broke into a grin, "I did not make a mistake taking you as my vessel, little lamb." His grin widened as he watch their skin darken, "But more apt it be your trophy than mine, do with it what you will, I want naught for it."
The lamb nods and tucks it back under their fleece.
"Though, if you want the power it wields," He smirks behind his veil, anticipating their reaction, "you must eat it."
Their face scrunches up in disgust, "You're joking."
He chuckles, "Not at all. The others will be more formidable than Leshy was, I can keep you from death when you fall to them but you must grow your power, grow the cult," He produces the camellia from where he had it tucked into his robes, "If you wish to keep your promise."
They still look apprehensive but the expression fades into a smile as they look at the flower, "Not to worry, they won't stand a chance against me. I will get stronger and I will kill all of them for you." Their gaze lands back on his veil, not quite meeting his eyes but close, the devotion he sees in them is palpable.
Narinder hasn't felt this way in a thousand years, longer if was honest. He likes this one.