Chapter Text
Narinder hummed contently, clenching and relaxing his left hand, quietly letting himself enjoy the lightness of the limb, no longer weighed down by the chains his siblings cast upon him.
As though a leaf in autumn, Leshy fell.
He’d been the weakest of the bishops, yet the Lamb’s feat had been impressive all the same. But a child when it came to Godhood, yet far more skilled and formidable when it came to the art of slaughter than could have ever been anticipated from such a cute, docile creature.
The refusal to sacrifice their own followers was quite admirable, yet undeniably naive.
An idea to pass. One the One Who Waits had entertained before, yet grew to know a fruitless endeavour. If nothing else, it had been quite impressive how quickly the Lamb’s following grew to love them. To willingly sacrifice themselves in order to push them forward in their task.
Narinder hummed once more, this time, however, the sound grew pensive. Thoughtful.
“Something the matter, my lord?”, Baal voiced his question beside the God, eyes endlessly curious yet all the same concerned.
“Are you not content with your vessel’s work?”, Aym chimed in soon after, assessing the freed limb as though to check for missed injuries.
Narinder looked down upon his two companions, refusing to speak until his own thoughts became clear. The Lamb had skill and talent. Even an abundance of luck. However, they lacked something critical. Something that caused a familiar hunger to surge through the God of death. What they lacked had been a devout devotion to him. The drive and want to release the God who’d revived them.
Lamb’s revenge had been achieved, and now they fought for their following. Or, well, so they claimed.
Although noble on the surface, it was no more selfless than the act of any other God. Devotion was like honey roast. It was like the taste of sweet nectar. Like water to a parched man.
Devotion was what truly fed a God, and the Lamb made sure to feed themselves well.
An irritated hiss left the cat’s lips, his ear flicking in agitation as a conclusion strung itself together with clarity.
“Their devotion falters,”, the God explained to the kits at either side of him, eyes narrowing in annoyance. “Their deeds are admirable, but they need reminding of who they serve.”, Narinder emphasised, knowing that the kits, at the very least, would understand.
And, predictably, they did. The two nodded in unison, comprehending their master’s words completely.
The Lamb had foolishly floated without purpose. They frolicked and expanded the cult of their own sake, not the sake of their God.
A certain reminder was in order.
——
“The cult is flourishing,”, Ratau hummed proudly, looking out over the developed lands. All within paradise worked hard to earn their keep. To make sure that their beloved Lamb had been approving of their work. “Our Lord must be pleased.”, the old rat chimed happily, looking over to the current vessel.
Lamb hummed, the noise noncommittal.
“As he should be,”, the sheep shrugged, trying to brush off the comment, “I’ve killed one of the bishops.”, they spoke proudly, even if a twinge of guilt laced itself into their voice. Nana had died to revive them in that battle. A follower lost.
A friend lost.
“And what a tremendous task that was,”, Ratau praised, “I’m certain you’ll be rewarded for your labour. The One Who Waits had always been generous in his rewards.”, the rat spoke happily, his staff trembling gently under his weight.
Lamb said nothing at first, instead taking a moment to watch the gentle, happy buzz of the cult. A smile formed itself onto dark lips. Their following was happy. Their cult flourished because of them.
“What can he even give me?”, the Lamb rolled their eyes with a gentle scoff, the action far too prideful to befit the young creature. “I’ve no need for him. He needs me.”, they explained easily, as though the conclusion had been a simple truth.
Ratau’s eye widened in genuine horror, his pupil glancing up at the glowing, red eye of the crown and soon back down to its new barer.
“Come now, Lamb,”, the rat warned with sincerity, “do not forget whose power allows you to do this. Do not forget who saved you from death.”
Again, Lamb rolled their eyes. Like a rebellious teen, arguing with their parent over something they’d no experience of.
Clauneck should’ve warned them. Had he not? The duck told Lamb that deals like this were never forged to benefit the desperate, surely. And, in this situation, it had been Lamb that was desperate. Narinder salvaged that desperation, even if his new vessel was yet too stubborn to see it.
“Nana saved me through her sacrifice.”, the Lamb growled warningly, as though purposefully ignoring the truth. Ratau knew, however, that this disrespect had come from a place of hurt. Nana had been the first to follow them. The first to die for them, too.
“That is true and I do not mean to demean such an act,”, Ratau spoke carefully, stepping towards the Lamb, reaching out his hand as to gently reassure the other. “She’ll be missed dearly, but do not forget that she’d been saved for him. By extension, her life had always been his-“
“Her life was no one’s but her own,”, the Lamb insisted lowly, yet made no effort to remove themselves from Ratau’s comforting touch, “Prematurely cut because of my mistakes.”
“Nana was saved in The One Who Waits’ name. As were you, Lamb. Do not forget this, lest you wish for his gift to be revoked.”, Ratau insisted sternly instead of humouring the new vessel’s self pity. There was no use in encouraging such thoughts. “We all live for him. By being an extension of his will, you’re the one that gets to witness our bloom and wither,”, Ratau’s voice bore reassurance, yet remained grounding, “there is beauty in death. There is beauty in our God, too.”
The Lamb snorted at the comment.
“Didn’t expect you to swing that way.“, they shrugged playfully.
“Lamb-“, the old rat was about to scold, yet the infant God shifted atop their hooves before more could be said, turning to face Ratau with a small, amused smile.
“Relax,”, they reassured, “I think I understand. Though I can’t help but notice he does little,” they shrugged again, “I don’t see him unless I die, which I don’t plan on doing again.”
“It’s not something you plan-“
“Point being,”, Lamb interrupted, placing both hands at both of the rat’s shoulders, “unless you tell me he can bring Nana back or something, I’ll just keep doing what I’m good at.”, the sheep spoke jokingly, about ready to leave and continue their tasks.
But instead of a defeated sigh from the rat, Lamb was met with an awkward, uncertain smile.
“… well, you see-“
——
“You’re back.”, Narinder stated plainly, his voice void of surprise. “Slitting your own throat is a rather classic, though incredibly agonising death. I doubt you’ll commit such an act again. Willingly, anyhow.”, the cat continued, looking down at the Lamb as they gasped for air, clutching their throat, searching for the cut that formally resided there.
“It’s how I’ve been killed,”, the small, fluffy creature stood up to their feet, regaining lost composure after their uncomfortable, self inflicted death. Lamb’s God towered above as though an unmoving mountain, “I figured it’d be a lot faster.”, they’d admitted sorrowfully.
“You’ve died of decapitation,”, Narinder pointed out with a roll of his eyes, “decidedly not through the suffocation on your own blood.”, there had been something incredibly smug about the way the cat spoke. “I must admit, however, that I admire your lack of hesitation when it came to the act.”, the cat praised, his voice a pleasant purr.
Something stirred within the Lamb. Unfamiliar and warm, the heat travelling up to their cheeks.
Narinder’s voice had been like a dulled razor, yet so inevitably sweet all the same. Despite their nonchalant approach, Lamb associated the voice with light. With life as opposed to death.
Lamb swallowed thickly before speaking, Ratau’s words of ‘beauty’ suddenly at the forefront of their mind.
“I’ve come to ask a favour.”, the sheep stood tall and confident, no longer the small, trembling creature that first arrived in the cat’s domain. Aym’s tail flicked in agitation at the Lamb’s demanding tone, Baal, on the other hand, tightened the grip on his weapon.
Narinder hummed noncommittally, raising his now-free hand up a fraction, instructing the two young cats to settle down. Both did so immediately without question, bowing their heads down in respect of their master.
“I suppose you’ve earned a reward,”, the cat mused, reaching out towards the sheep expectantly. Lamb didn’t so much as flinch as the clawed hand reached them, simply stepping atop the palm as instructed. “Speak, then. What flavour does thou propose?”
There was a gentle tilt to the One Who Waits’ head. One that Lamb would refer to as adorable, had they been delusional.
At that point, Narinder rose his palm up, the Lamb levelled with his three crimson, piercing eyes.
It was in that moment that a single, selfish thought came to the Lamb. One that lasted only a second before vanishing into the depths of banishment where it belonged. It had been ridiculous and, frankly, unlike themselves.
‘You could bring Nana back after the next bishop. Indulge in this God. The favour could benefit you both.’
Lamb couldn’t even begin to try decipher what his own mind meant by ‘indulging’ in the One Who Waits.
“I want Nana back,”, Lamb spoke decisively, no room for argument or his own intrusive thoughts, “she died to save me, yet I believe her death premature.”, they reasoned.
Narinder hummed, the sound utterly amused.
“Do you, now?”, he questioned, his other hand lifting slowly before descending down onto the Lamb. Gently, the God of Death began to stroke the fluffy wool atop their head, the red crown jumping down as to allow its God uninterrupted access. “And what gives you the right to decide such things, wee sheep?”
“They died for me when they hadn’t a need.”, the Lamb countered, yet subconsciously melted under the soothing touch of the imposing God.
“Is that so? From what I’ve seen, you’d been skewered by Leshy.”, the cat pointed out, yet the amused tone nor the petting ceased.
“But you’d have brought me back.”, the vessel spoke with full confidence, earning themselves a hum from Narinder.
“Perhaps,”, he shrugged, “but I had warned I’d need sacrifices in order to return you to good health. Nana was a willing participant.”, at those words, Lamb’s fists clenched.
“They’ve no right to decide such things,”, they insisted venomously, suddenly pushing the hand that had been stroking them aside. Both kits tensed at the action, yet Narinder looked less than bothered. “They’re not divinity.”
“Oh,”, Narinder laughed suddenly, the sound endlessly amused, as though Lamb had said the funniest thing imaginable, ”surely you do not dub yourself divine, my vessel?”, he then further challenged, looking down at the small creature in his palm, so full of life and fire that it made him nostalgic.
The Lamb before him bristled, much like a cat. It only quirked the cat God’s lips further.
“I am an extension of you,”, they explained, “my word is divine, is it not?”
Ah, youth.
Youth and their endless naïveté. Their desire to prove themselves yet be their own.
“You’re a vessel,”, the God explained, “you are my will, Lamb.“, the cat smile, the gesture baring teeth, “those you indoctrinate do not worship you. They worship my power. My ideals.”, the cat’s face inched closer, his eyes fierce as they looked down upon the sheep in his grasp. “You worship me, Lamb.”
Under the intense gaze the Lamb’s usual confidence faltered. They didn’t want to agree with the God, yet they couldn’t even begin to deny anything, either.
But devotion, it was-
“Calm your mind, little Lamb,”, the cat purred once more, seemingly relishing in the discomfort of the sheep, “I know of your conversation with Ratau,”, the revelation did the opposite, in fact, as the sheep’s heart now thumped dangerously, “your devotion is… lacking, let’s say,”, the cat lowered the sheep back down to the ground. Hesitantly, the Lamb stepped off, their legs akin to jelly, “yet your faith’s intact.”, he mused further.
Lamb looked up at their God silently, awaiting the inevitable punishment or the disapproving words. But Narinder’s smile never faltered, his eyes glinting dangerously.
“Alas, I’m aware this Nana meant a lot to you, as such it is a request I intend to fulfil.”, Lamb’s eyes widened at the God’s words, mouth opening and closing dumbly in a thousand unspoken, yet bewildered, thanks.
“You… you’re not angry at me?”
“For what?”, the cat asked earnestly, the question genuine, “for relying upon yourself as you’d always been forced to do?”, Narinder waved a dismissive hand, “you’re doing well. More than well. You’re exceeding all of my expectations.”, the cat praised melodically even without singing, the strange warmth from before fluttering inside the sheep’s stomach as though butterflies.
‘I need his approval. I need him.’
“But-“, Lamb began, yet was quietly interrupted by a raised had. They were quick to swallow their words, just as Aym and Baal had been before.
“Calm,”, he spoke again with amusement, “all I ask is you improve thy devotion. Kill in my name. Feast in my name. Exist in my name.”, once more the cat purred, and Lamb swore they’d felt the earth under their hooves rumble beneath them.
“So I just… think of you?”, the woolen creature asked uncertainly.
“And is that so much to ask?”, the cat asked earnestly, yet Aym and Baal both smiled knowingly. The sheep would know it to be bordering on sinister had they been able to focus onto anything other than the three-eyed cat before them.
Lamb sighed in audible relief.
‘A loving God. So different compared to the other bishops. Is this why they’ve sealed him?’
“I can do that.”, they spoke certainly with a confident nod.
Narinder’s smile couldn’t stretch further, his teeth glinting as though illuminated.
“Good, my sweet little Lamb,”, the sheep’s short tail wagged instinctively, eyes unable to look away from their God, “do my will, then. Free me, and you shall be rewarded.”
So Lamb nodded, their eyes just as determined as before.
“Anything for you.”