Chapter Text
Chapter 1
Ezra was bored, and a little confused. He had been playing the hiding game for a long time, as long as he could remember. He was supposed to make sure nobody figured out he was a sheep. For a while, he convinced all the grownups that he was a baby llama, but one of them eventually figured him out. He scratched the itchy nubs on his head, wondering what finally gave him away. He had tried to run, he was fast after all, but his tiny legs were no match for grownups. He had only managed to scurry between the legs of two of the ones with hoods before a third had lunged and managed to catch him by his scruff. He kept trying to run and wriggle free when something hit him in the head, and it went dark.
When he could see again he was sitting in a metal box being carried by some grownups. He wasn't sure where they were taking him, but the rules were that when he got caught, the grownups would make sure he saw is Baba again, Baba said so! Ezra was bored though, and managed to stand himself up in the small enclosure, pressing his face to the bars,
"Are we there yet?"
"Shut it, runt," the grownup snapped at him. He was used to grownups treating him like a pest, but it still made him grumpy, so he just stuck his tongue out at the back of the man's head.
Sitting back down, Ezra started idly kicking his hooves against the bars of the box, only for the two grumps carrying him to shake the box harshly.
"Quit that!" the one behind him snarled. He thought they might be some kind of dog from the way they growled the words.
Harumphing, Ezra sat quietly for the next, however long, until the two men dropped his box hard enough he bumped his head on the top. Rubbing the small lump he was sure was forming, he looked up as the lid was taken off and the bigger of the two men grabbed him by his scruff again. He guessed they must be wherever Baba was since they carried him into a big, open room. Looking around though, all he saw was a very big man with an axe, and four shadows with weird pointy bits that didn't look like horns.
Trailing his eyes up the shadows, Ezra felt his heart stop. Crowns.
"Now, even if you get caught, even if you see me, if you see crowns, you run. If the crown people catch you, you'll lose, got that?" Baba sounded scared when he told him that. Baba was never scared.
Ezra wasn't sure what would happen if he lost, but he knew it must have been bad for Baba to be scared. So, Ezra did what he was told, and ran. Or, he tried to. The mean man was still holding him by the neck, and started carrying him closer to the crown people. Ezra panicked and started trying to bat the hand away from his neck to get away, but the man just shook him until his head spun. He heard loud voices above him, but he was starting to sob, not knowing what else to do.
"Baba! Baba help!"
There was a whooshing sound, a thump, and then everything was quiet.
Then everything was bright, white, which meant Baba must be holding him. He tried to hug onto them, but instead, pushed himself up off of something rough and gritty. That can't be right, Baba is soft and warm, so where was Baba? Panicking, Ezra shot to his feet, everywhere he looked was white, so Baba must be here somewhere. Blindly flailing, trying to hug anything, he started stumbling forward.
"Baba, where are you? You said you'd be here! You promised!"
Narinder was eagerly expecting his vessel. He knew today was the day they would finally arrive. He had an entire speech prepared to comfort them and coax them into a deal. What he was not expecting, however, was for the Lamb to be a literal lamb, not even five winters old. He had been about to launch into his pitch when the tiny thing appeared before him and promptly flopped onto their face. His brain stuttered for a moment at the sight of just how small the creature was. He looked to his two disciples, about to tell them to retrieve the tiny ball of grey fluff when it nearly launched itself upright.
Steeling himself to try and deliver his offer again, his mind jumped again when the child started running towards him, crying out for whatever a 'baba' was. He gently brushed through the simple mind of the mortal, gleaning the meaning and understanding the misconception the poor thing was under. Figuring that trying to set a toddler on a war path would be difficult, aside from how his gut twisted at the thought, he may have to take longer to prepare his vessel and formulate a new offer to make them. Perhaps playing to the idea that this was some sort of game would work? His musing was interrupted by a soft thump against his shin.
Looking down, the child, Ezra, had latched onto his robe, burying its face into it.
"Baba!" they cried out, sounding more relieved than any mortal he had heard. His disciples shared a glance, neither sure whether to be outraged at the audacity of the mortal to touch their master, or concerned for the clearly confused infant.
This could work, Narinder considered, gently reaching down and scooping the child into his palm. Ezra briefly resisted, apparently unwilling to let go, until Narinder began raising him up. That was when they first met eyes, two brown and full of wonder and adoration, three red and full of concern and hope. Holding the lamb to his chest, he finally spoke,
"I'm here Ezra, you are safe now," he spoke as gently as he could, not wanting to frighten the lamb. Ezra just nuzzled into his chest, silently sobbing, but clearly feeling more at ease now that he had found his 'baba'.
"I'm sorry Baba," the lamb muttered into his robe.
"Why is that?" he asked, slowly rubbing the spot between the two stubby horns with the tip of his thumb.
"I got caught," he pouted.
"That's alright," he assured, the tiny face turning to look up at him. "What fun is there in a game with no winners?" The lamb looked puzzled. Chuckling slightly and the innocence of the boy in his hand, he explained, "If someone wins, then that means someone else has to lose, yes? You just happened to lose this time." Ezra looked thoughtful for a moment before nodding. The poor thing had been running and hiding for so long, his real father hadn't had the chance to teach him much of anything.
"So what now Baba?" the lamb asked.
"Now we can start a new game," Narinder smiled, finally forming the outline of a plan. Ezra's eyes looked as thought they may fall right out of his skull.
"Are you gonna play too this time?"
"If only," he sighed, mirroring the disappointment on Ezra's face. "but I'm stuck in these chains. I can't move," he explained. The lamb jump up on his palm, looking all around himself, apparently only just noticing the shackles and chains wrapped around his body. The poor thing looked heartbroken, so before they could work themselves up, he pressed on, "that's why our new game will be special. It's a mission." The lamb looked giddy at that. Good, this might actually work then. "I'm going to let you borrow my crown-"
"But you said only bad people have crowns!" Ezra blurted out, looking suddenly horrified. Right, he had seen that in that wooly head.
"I did, yes, but the crown isn't what makes them bad," he said, showing his own crown to the boy. "I'm not bad, but I have a crown too. The other people with crowns are bad, because they put these chains on me." Ezra let out a gasp at that, although his attention was currently on the crown floating in front of him. "That's why I need you to use my crown and go steal theirs from them," he finished.
"But howsa crown gonna help me?" Ezra looked up at him, clearly bewildered.
"Because, little cloud," he had seen the boy's father call him that, "the crowns are magical." to illustrate his point, the crown proceeded to change into several tools and weapons to the delight of the child. "Not only can it become any tool you could ever need-" he deliberately did not tell him they were meant to kill "-it will make you stronger, faster and tougher than anyone without a crown of their own," he finished, willing the crown to float into the tiny hands that were curiously reach for it.
"Can I really use it? I can get your chains off?" the boy asked, stars practically bursting out of his eyes.
"Yes, but not alone," he cautioned. "I must send you back, but you will have someone waiting to help explain. You'll need to build a team of sorts in order to beat the Bishops- the crown people." he added, seeing the question in Ezra's eyes. "Can you do that for me?" The Lamb's eyes turned fierce, or as fierce as a four year old's eyes could be, and nodded, reaching up and placing the Red Crown on his head.